From Twelfth Night Act Two, scene three:
SIR TOBY BELCH Come on; there is sixpence for you: let's have a song.
SIR ANDREW There's a testril of me too: if one knight give a--
FESTE Would you have a love-song, or a song of good life?
SIR TOBY BELCH A love-song, a love-song.
SIR ANDREW Ay, ay: I care not for good life.
FESTE [Sings]
O mistress mine, where are you roaming?
O, stay and hear; your true love's coming,
That can sing both high and low:
Trip no further, pretty sweeting;
Journeys end in lovers meeting,
Every wise man's son doth know.
SIR ANDREW Excellent good, i' faith.
SIR TOBY BELCH Good, good.
FESTE [Sings]
What is love? 'tis not hereafter;
Present mirth hath present laughter;
What's to come is still unsure:
In delay there lies no plenty;
Then come kiss me, sweet and twenty,
Youth's a stuff will not endure.
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