65
Mal. Saying, ['Cousin] Toby, my fortunes having cast
me on your niece give me this prerogative of speech,'—
Sir To. What, what?
Mal. 'You must amend your drunkenness.'
Sir To. Out, scab!
70
Fab. Nay, patience, or we break the sinews of our plot.
Mal. 'Besides, you waste the treasure of your time
with a foolish knight,'—