Antonio.
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, tho' so much,
As might have drawn one to a longer voyage;
But jealousie what might befal 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;
But were my worth as is my conscience firm,
You should find better dealing: what's to do?
Shall we go see the relicks of this town?
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 duke's gallies,
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.
Th' offence is not of such a bloody nature,
Albeit the quality of the time and quarrel,
Might well have given us bloody argument:
-- 357 --
It might have since been answered 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 th' Elephant.
Seb.
I do remember.
[Exeunt.
John Bell [1774], Bell's Edition of Shakespeare's Plays, As they are now performed at the Theatres Royal in London; Regulated from the Prompt Books of each House By Permission; with Notes Critical and Illustrative; By the Authors of the Dramatic Censor (Printed for John Bell... and C. Etherington [etc.], York) [word count] [S10401].