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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