Twelfth Night p2

Twelfth Night p2

Storyboard Text

  • Bolts and shackles
  • And then to have the humor of state, and after a demure travel of regard, Telling them I know my place as I would they should do theirs, to ask for my kinsman Toby-
  • O'peace, peace, peace! Now, now
  • Shall this fellow live?
  • Seven of my people, with an obedient start, make out for him. I frown the while, and perchance wind up watch, or play with my- some rich jewel. Toby approaches, curtsies there to me
  • Though our silence be drawn from us with cars, yet peace.
  • And does not Toby take you a blow o' the lips then?
  • I extend my hand to him thus, quenching my familiar smile with an austere regard of control- Saying "Cousin Toby, My fortunes having cast me on your niece give me this prerogative of speech-"
  • What, what?
  • "You must amend your drunkenness."
  • Out, scab!
  • "Besides, you waste the treasure of your time with a foolish knight-"
  • Nay, Patience, or we break the sinews of our plot.
  • "One Sir Andrew-"
  • That's me, I warrant you.
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