Maria's lines in Twelfth Night

Maria. By my troth, Sir Toby, you must come in earlier o' nights: your cousin, my lady, takes great exceptions to your ill hours.

Maria. Ay, but you must confine yourself within the modest limits of order.

Maria. That quaffing and drinking will undo you: I heard my lady talk of it yesterday; and of a foolish knight that you brought in one night here to be her wooer.

Maria. Ay, he.

Maria. What's that to the purpose?

Maria. Ay, but he'll have but a year in all these ducats: he's a very fool and a prodigal.

Maria. He hath indeed, almost natural: for besides that he's a fool, he's a great quarreller: and but that he hath the gift of a coward to allay the gust he hath in quarrelling, 'tis thought among the prudent he would quickly have the gift of a grave.

Maria. They that add, moreover, he's drunk nightly in your company.

Maria. And you too, sir.

Maria. My name is Mary, sir.

Maria. Fare you well, gentlemen.

Maria. Sir, I have not you by the hand.

Maria. Now, sir, 'thought is free:' I pray you, bring your hand to the buttery-bar and let it drink.

Maria. It's dry, sir.

Maria. A dry jest, sir.

Maria. Ay, sir, I have them at my fingers' ends: marry, now I let go your hand, I am barren.

Maria. Nay, either tell me where thou hast been, or I will not open my lips so wide as a bristle may enter in way of thy excuse: my lady will hang thee for thy absence.

Maria. Make that good.

Maria. A good lenten answer: I can tell thee where that saying was born, of 'I fear no colours.'

Maria. In the wars; and that may you be bold to say in your foolery.

Maria. Yet you will be hanged for being so long absent; or, to be turned away, is not that as good as a hanging to you?

Maria. You are resolute, then?

Maria. That if one break, the other will hold; or, if both break, your gaskins fall.

Maria. Peace, you rogue, no more o' that. Here comes my lady: make your excuse wisely, you were best.

Maria. Madam, there is at the gate a young gentleman much desires to speak with you.

Maria. I know not, madam: 'tis a fair young man, and well attended.

Maria. Sir Toby, madam, your kinsman.

Maria. Will you hoist sail, sir? here lies your way.

Maria. What a caterwauling do you keep here! If my lady have not called up her steward Malvolio and bid him turn you out of doors, never trust me.

Maria. For the love o' God, peace!

Maria. Nay, good Sir Toby.

Maria. Go shake your ears.

Maria. Sweet Sir Toby, be patient for tonight: since the youth of the count's was today with thy lady, she is much out of quiet. For Monsieur Malvolio, let me alone with him: if I do not gull him into a nayword, and make him a common recreation, do not think I have wit enough to lie straight in my bed: I know I can do it.

Maria. Marry, sir, sometimes he is a kind of puritan.

Maria. The devil a puritan that he is, or any thing constantly, but a time-pleaser; an affectioned ass, that cons state without book and utters it by great swarths: the best persuaded of himself, so crammed, as he thinks, with excellencies, that it is his grounds of faith that all that look on him love him; and on that vice in him will my revenge find notable cause to work.

Maria. I will drop in his way some obscure epistles of love; wherein, by the colour of his beard, the shape of his leg, the manner of his gait, the expressure of his eye, forehead, and complexion, he shall find himself most feelingly personated. I can write very like my lady your niece: on a forgotten matter we can hardly make distinction of our hands.

Maria. My purpose is, indeed, a horse of that colour.

Maria. Ass, I doubt not.

Maria. Sport royal, I warrant you: I know my physic will work with him. I will plant you two, and let the fool make a third, where he shall find the letter: observe his construction of it. For this night, to bed, and dream on the event. Farewell.

Maria. Get ye all three into the box-tree: Malvolio's coming down this walk: he has been yonder i' the sun practising behavior to his own shadow this half hour: observe him, for the love of mockery; for I know this letter will make a contemplative idiot of him. Close, in the name of jesting! Lie thou there,

for here comes the trout that must be caught with tickling.

Maria. Nay, but say true; does it work upon him?

Maria. If you will then see the fruits of the sport, mark his first approach before my lady: he will come to her in yellow stockings, and 'tis a colour she abhors, and cross-gartered, a fashion she detests; and he will smile upon her, which will now be so unsuitable to her disposition, being addicted to a melancholy as she is, that it cannot but turn him into a notable contempt.

If you will see it, follow me.

Maria. If you desire the spleen, and will laugh yourself into stitches, follow love. Yond gull Malvolio is turned heathen, a very renegado; for there is no Christian, that means to be saved by believing rightly, can ever believe such impossible passages of grossness. He's in yellow stockings.

Maria. Most villanously; like a pedant that keeps a school i' the church. I have dogged him, like his murderer. He does obey every point of the letter that I dropped to betray him: he does smile his face into more lines than is in the new map with the augmentation of the Indies: you have not seen such a thing as 'tis.

I can hardly forbear hurling things at him. I know my lady will strike him: if she do, he'll smile and take't for a great favour.

Maria. He's coming, madam; but in very strange manner. He is, sure, possessed, madam.

Maria. No, madam, he does nothing but smile: your ladyship were best to have some guard about you, if he come; for, sure, the man is tainted in's wits.

Maria. How do you, Malvolio?

Maria. La you, an you speak ill of the devil, how he takes it at heart! Pray God, he be not bewitched!

Maria. Marry, and it shall be done to-morrow morning if I live. My lady would not lose for more than I'll say.

Maria. O lord!

Maria. No. madam, he does nothing but smile: your ladyship were best to have some guard about you, if he come; for, sure, the man is tainted in's wits.

Maria. How do you, Malvolio?

Maria. Why appear you with this ridiculous boldness before my lady?

Maria. Lo, how hollow the fiend speaks within him! did not I tell you? Sir Toby, my lady prays you to have a care of him.

Maria. La you, an you speak ill of the devil, how he takes it at heart! Pray God, he be not bewitched!

Maria. Marry, and it shall be done to-morrow morning, if I live. My lady would not lose him for more than I'll say.

Maria. O Lord!

Maria. Get him to say his prayers, good Sir Toby, get him to pray.

Maria. No, I warrant you, he will not hear of godliness.

Maria. Nay, pursue him now, lest the device take air and taint.

Maria. The house will be the quieter.

Maria. You may have very fit occasion for't: he is now in some commerce with my lady, and will by and by depart.

Maria. Nay, I prithee, put on this gown and this beard; make him believe thou art Sir Topas the curate: do it quickly; I'll call Sir Toby the whilst.

Maria. Thou mightst have done this without thy beard and gown: he sees thee not.