Twelfth Night; Or, What You Will

by William Shakespeare

MALVOLIO.
'You must amend your drunkenness.'—

SIR TOBY.
Out, scab!

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 't was I; for many do call me fool.

MALVOLIO.
What employment have we here?
[Taking up the letter.]

FABIAN.
Now is the woodcock near the gin.

SIR TOBY. O, peace! and the spirit of humours intimate reading aloud to him!