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SECOND OFFICER.
Antonio, I arrest thee at the suit
Of Count Orsino.
ANTONIO.
You do mistake me, sir.
FIRST OFFICER.
No, sir, no jot; I know your favour well,
Though now you have no sea-cap on your head.--
Take him away; he knows I know him well.
ANTONIO.
I Must obey.--This comes with seeking you;
But there's no remedy; I shall answer it.
What will you do? Now my necessity
Makes me to ask you for my purse. It grieves me
Much more for what I cannot do for you
Than what befalls myself. You stand amazed;
But be of comfort.
SECOND OFFICER.
Come, sir, away.
ANTONIO.
I must entreat of you some of that money.
VIOLA.
What money, sir?
For the fair kindness you have showed me here,
And part being prompted by your present trouble,
Out of my lean and low ability
I'll lend you something; my having is not much;
I'll make division of my present with you:
Hold, there is half my coffer.
ANTONIO.
Will you deny me now?
Is't possible that my deserts to you
Can lack persuasion? Do not tempt my misery,
Lest that it make me so unsound a man
As to upbraid you with those kindnesses
That I have done for you.
VIOLA.
I know of none,
Nor know I you by voice or any feature:
I hate ingratitude more in a man
Than lying, vainness, babbling, drunkenness,
Or any taint of vice whose strong corruption
Inhabits our frail blood.
ANTONIO.
O heavens themselves!
SECOND OFFICER.
Come, sir, I pray you go.
ANTONIO.
Let me speak a little. This youth that you see here
I snatched one half out of the jaws of death,
Relieved him with such sanctity of love,--
And to his image, which methought did promise
Most venerable worth, did I devotion.
FIRST OFFICER.
What's that to us? The time goes by; away.
ANTONIO.
But O how vile an idol proves this god!
Thou hast, Sebastian, done good feature shame.
In nature there's no blemish but the mind;
None can be call'd deform'd but the unkind:
Virtue is beauty; but the beauteous-evil
Are empty trunks, o'erflourished by the devil.
FIRST OFFICER.
The man grows mad; away with him. Come, come, sir.
ANTONIO.
Lead me on.
[Exeunt Officers with ANTONIO.]
VIOLA.
Methinks his words do from such passion fly
That he believes himself; so do not I.
Prove true, imagination; O prove true,
That I, dear brother, be now ta'en for you!
SIR TOBY.
Come hither, knight; come hither, Fabian; we'll whisper
o'er a couplet or two of most sage saws.
VIOLA.
He named Sebastian; I my brother know
Yet living in my glass; even such and so
In favour was my brother; and he went
Still in this fashion, colour, ornament,