SCENE II.
Enter Antonio, and Officers.
Vio.
Here comes the man, Sir, that did rescue me.
Duke.
That face of his I do remember well;
Yet when I saw it last, it was besmear'd
As black as Vulcan, in the smoak of war:
A bawbling vessel was he captain of,
For shallow draught and bulk unprizable,
With which such scathful graple did he make
With the most noble bottom of our fleet,
-- 436 --
That very envy and the tongue of loss
Cry'd fame and honour on him.—What's the matter?
1 Off.
Orsino, this is that Antonio,
That took the Phœnix and her fraught from Candy;
And this is he, that did the Tyger board,
When your young nephew Titus lost his leg:
Here in the streets, desperate of shame and state,1 note
In private brabble did we apprehend him.
Vio.
He did me kindness, Sir; drew on my side:
But in conclusion put strange speech upon me,
I know not what 'twas, but distraction.
Duke.
Notable pirate! thou salt-water thief!
What foolish boldness brought thee to their mercies,
Whom thou in terms so bloody, and so dear,
Hast made thine enemies;
Ant.
Orsino, noble Sir,
Be pleas'd that I shake off these names you give me:
Antonio never yet was thief, or pirate;
Though I confess, on base and ground enough,
Orsino's enemy. A witchcraft drew me hither:
That most ungrateful boy there, by your side,
From the rude sea's enrag'd and foamy mouth
Did I redeem; a wreck past hope he was:
His life I gave him, and did thereto add
My love without retention or restraint;
All his in dedication. For his sake,
Did I expose myself, pure, for his love,
Into the danger of this adverse town;
Drew to defend him, when he was beset;
Where being apprehended, his false cunning,
Not meaning to partake with me in danger,
Taught him to face me out of his acquaintance;
And grew a twenty years removed thing,
While one would wink: deny'd me mine own purse,
Which I had recommended to his use
-- 437 --
Not half an hour before.
Vio.
How can this be?
Duke.
When came he to this town?
Ant.
To day, my Lord; and for three months before,
No Interim, not a minute's vacancy,
Both day and night did we keep company.
Samuel Johnson [1765], The plays of William Shakespeare, in eight volumes, with the corrections and illustrations of Various Commentators; To which are added notes by Sam. Johnson (Printed for J. and R. Tonson [and] C. Corbet [etc.], London) [word count] [S11001].