Seb.
I would not, by my will, have troubled you;
But, since you make your pleasure of your pains,
I will no further chide you.

Ant.
I could not stay behind you; my desire,
More sharp than filed steel, did spur me forth;
And not all love to see you, (though so much,
As might have drawn one to a longer voyage,)
But jealousy what might befall your travel,
Being skilless in these parts; which to a stranger,
Unguided, and unfriended, often prove

Rough and unhospitable: My willing love,
The rather by these arguments of fear,
Set forth in your pursuit.

Seb.
My kind Antonio,
I can no other answer make, but, thanks,
And thanks, and ever thanks: Often good turns^{6 note}

Ant.
To-morrow, sir; best, first, go see your lodging.

Seb.
I am not weary, and 'tis long to night;
I pray you, let us satisfy our eyes
With the memorials, and the things of fame,
That do renown this city.

Ant.
'Would, you'd pardon me;
I do not without danger walk these streets:
Once, in a sea-fight, 'gainst the Count his gallies^{9 note},
I did some service; of such note, indeed,
That, were I ta'en here, it would scarce be answer'd.

Seb.
Belike, you slew great number of his people.

Ant.
The offence is not of such a bloody nature;
Albeit the quality of the time, and quarrel,
Might well have given us bloody argument.
It might have since been answer'd in repaying
What we took from them; which, for traffick's sake,
Most of our city did: only myself stood out:
For which, if I be lapsed in this place,
I shall pay dear.

Seb.
Do not then walk too open.

Ant.
It doth not fit me. Hold, sir, here's my purse;
In the south suburbs, at the Elephant,
Is best to lodge: I will bespeak our diet,
Whiles you beguile the time, and feed your knowledge,

With viewing of the town; there shall you have me.

Seb.
Why I your purse?

Ant.
Haply your eye shall light upon some toy
You have desire to purchase; and your store,
I think, is not for idle markets, sir.

Seb.

I'll be your purse-bearer, and leave you for an hour.

Ant.

To the Elephant.—

Seb.

I do remember.