William Shakespeare: Twelfth Night

ACT III. 4. SCENE IV. OLIVIA'S garden. (continued)

VIOLA.
Methinks his words do from such passion fly
That he believes himself; so do not I.
Prove true, imagination; O prove true,
That I, dear brother, be now ta'en for you!

SIR TOBY.
Come hither, knight; come hither, Fabian; we'll whisper
o'er a couplet or two of most sage saws.

VIOLA.
He named Sebastian; I my brother know
Yet living in my glass; even such and so
In favour was my brother; and he went
Still in this fashion, colour, ornament,
For him I imitate. O, if it prove,
Tempests are kind, and salt waves fresh in love!

[Exit.]

SIR TOBY.
A very dishonest paltry boy, and more a coward than a
hare: his dishonesty appears in leaving his friend here in
necessity, and denying him; and for his cowardship, ask Fabian.

FABIAN.
A coward, a most devout coward, religious in it.

SIR ANDREW.
'Slid, I'll after him again and beat him.

SIR TOBY.
Do, cuff him soundly, but never draw thy sword.

SIR ANDREW.
And I do not,--

[Exit.]

FABIAN.
Come, let's see the event.

SIR TOBY.
I dare lay any money 'twill be nothing yet.

[Exeunt.]