SCENE II.

_A public Square._

_Enter_ SEBASTIAN _and_ 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; I fear'd besides 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 doubt, Set forth in your pursuit.

_Seb._ My kind Antonio, I can no other answer make, but thanks, And thanks, and ever thanks.--What is to do? Shall we go see the reliques 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 Orsino's gallies, I did some service; of such note indeed, That were I ta'en here, it would scarce be answered.

_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. [_Exeunt._