ABSTRACT
Twelfth Night. Feste, the clown, licensed fool, enters to his drinking-companions, Sir Toby Belch and Sir Andrew Aguecheek. The latter, delighted to see him, greets him with the following reminiscence.
Sir Andrew… In sooth, thou wast in very gracious fooling last night, when thou spok’st of Pigrogromitus, of the Vapians passing the equinoctial of Queubus: ’twas very good, i’ faith: I sent thee sixpence for thy leman: had’st it?
Clown I did impeticos thy gratillity: for Malvolio’s nose is no whipstock, my lady has a white hand, and the Myrmidons are no bottle-ale houses.
(II, iii, 11. 22–9)
