William Shakespeare: Twelfth Night

ACT II. 5. SCENE V. OLIVIA'S garden. (continued)

SIR ANDREW.
'Slight, I could so beat the rogue:--

SIR TOBY.
Peace, I say.

MALVOLIO.
To be Count Malvolio;--

SIR TOBY.
Ah, rogue!

SIR ANDREW.
Pistol him, pistol him.

SIR TOBY.
Peace, peace.

MALVOLIO.
There is example for't; the lady of the Strachy married
the yeoman of the wardrobe.

SIR ANDREW.
Fie on him, Jezebel!

FABIAN.
O, peace! now he's deeply in; look how imagination blows him.

MALVOLIO.
Having been three months married to her, sitting in my state,--

SIR TOBY.
O for a stone-bow to hit him in the eye!

MALVOLIO.
Calling my officers about me, in my branched velvet gown;
having come from a day-bed, where I have left Olivia sleeping.

SIR TOBY.
Fire and brimstone!

FABIAN.
O, peace, peace.

MALVOLIO.
And then to have the humour 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.

SIR TOBY.
Bolts and shackles!

FABIAN.
O, peace, peace, peace! Now, now.

MALVOLIO.
Seven of my people, with an obedient start, make out for
him: I frown the while, and perchance, wind up my watch, or play
with some rich jewel. Toby approaches; court'sies there to me:

SIR TOBY.
Shall this fellow live?

FABIAN.
Though our silence be drawn from us with cars, yet peace.