Sebastian.
Antonio.
Will you stay no longer? nor will you not that
I go with you?
Seb.
By your patience, no: my stars shine
darkly over me; the malignancy of my fate
might perhaps distemper yours; therefore I crave
of you your leave, that I may bear my evils alone.
It were a bad recompence for your love, to lay any of
them on you.
Ant.
Let me yet know of you, whither you are bound.
Seb.
No sooth, Sir, my determinate voyage is meer extravagancy:
but I perceive in you so excellent a touch of modesty,
that you will not extort from me what I am willing to keep in;
therefore it charges me in manners the rather to express my self:
you must know of me then, Antonio, my name is Sebastian, which
I call'd Rodorigo; my father was that Sebastian of Messaline,
whom I know you have heard of. He left behind him, my self,
and a sister, both born in one hour; if the heav'ns had been
pleas'd, would we had so ended! but you, Sir, alter'd that, for
some hours before you took me from the breach of the sea, was
my sister drown'd.
Ant.
Alas the day!
Seb.
A lady, Sir, tho' it was said she much resembled me, was
yet of many accounted beautiful; but tho' I could not with such
-- 487 --
estimable wonder over-far believe that, yet thus far I will boldly
publish her, she bore a mind that envy could not but call fair:
she is drown'd already, Sir, with salt water, tho' I seem to drown
her remembrance again with more.
Ant.
Pardon me, Sir, your bad entertainment.
Seb.
O good Antonio, forgive me your trouble.
Ant.
If you will not murther me for my love, let me be your
servant.
Seb.
If you will not undo what you have done, that is kill
him whom you have recover'd, desire it not. Fare ye well at
once, my bosom is full of kindness, and I am yet so near the
manners of my mother, that upon the least occasion more, mine
eyes will tell tales of me: I am bound to the Duke Orsino's court;
farewel.
[Exit.
Ant.
The gentleness of all the gods go with thee.
I have made enemies in Orsino's court,
Else would I very shortly see thee there:
But come what may, I do adore thee so,
That danger shall seem sport, and I will go.
[Exit.
George Sewell [1723–5], The works of Shakespear in six [seven] volumes. Collated and Corrected by the former Editions, By Mr. Pope ([Vol. 7] Printed by J. Darby, for A. Bettesworth [and] F. Fayram [etc.], London) [word count] [S11101].
