Toby approaches;
curtsies there to me.
Sir Toby. Shall this fellow live?
Fabian. Though our silence be drawn from us with
cares, yet peace.
Malvolio. I extend my hand to him thus, quenching my
familiar smile with an austere regard to control.
Sir Toby. And does not Toby take you a blow o' the lips
then?
Malvolio. Saying--Cousin Toby, my fortunes having
cast me on your niece, give me this prerogative of speech;--
Sir Toby. What, what?
Malvolio. You must amend your drunkenness.
Fabian. Nay, patience, or we break the sinews of our
plot.
Malvolio. Besides, you waste the treasure of your time
with a foolish knight--
Sir Andrew. That's me, I warrant you.
Malvolio. One Sir Andrew--
Sir Andrew. I knew,'twas I; for many do call me fool.
Malvolio. What employment have we here? [Taking up the letter.]
The letter and his comments on it are equally good. If poor
Malvolio's treatment afterwards is a little hard, poetical justice
is done in the uneasiness which Olivia suffers on account of her
mistaken attachment to Cesario, as her insensibility to the violence
of the Duke's passion is atoned for by the discovery of Viola's
concealed love of him.
THE TWO GENTLEMEN OF VERONA
This is little more than the first outlines of a comedy loosely
sketched in.
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