This fellow is wise enough to play the fool;
And to do that well craves a kind of wit:
He must observe their mood on whom he jests,
The quality of persons, and the time;
And, like the haggard, check at every feather
That comes before his eye. This is a practice
As full of labour as a wise man's art:
For folly that he wisely shows is fit;
But wise men, folly-fall'n, quite taint their wit.

[Enter SIR TOBY and SIR ANDREW.]

SIR TOBY.
Save you, gentleman!

VIOLA.
And you, sir.

SIR ANDREW.
Dieu vous garde, monsieur.

VIOLA.
Et vous aussi; votre serviteur.

SIR ANDREW.
I hope, sir, you are; and I am yours.

SIR TOBY.
Will you encounter the house? my niece is desirous you should
enter, if your trade be to her.