Emp. No, not for my affairs;
But, for your own, too much.
Seb. You talk in clouds; explain your meaning, sir.
Emp. Explain yours first.—What meant you, hand in hand?
And, when you saw me, with a guilty start,
You loosed your hold, affrighted at my presence.
Seb. Affrighted!
Emp. Yes, astonished and confounded.
Seb. What mak'st thou of thyself, and what of me?
Art thou some ghost, some demon, or some god,
That I should stand astonished at thy sight?
If thou could'st deem so meanly of my courage,
Why didst thou not engage me man for man,
And try the virtue of that Gorgon face,
To stare me into statue?
Emp. Oh, thou art now recovered; but, by heaven,
Thou wert amazed at first, as if surprised
At unexpected baseness brought to light.
For know, ungrateful man, that kings, like gods,
Are every where; walk in the abyss of minds,
And view the dark recesses of the soul.
Seb. Base and ungrateful never was I thought;
Nor, till this turn of fate, durst thou have called me:
But, since thou boast'st the omniscience of a god,
Say in what cranny of Sebastian's soul,
Unknown to me, so loathed a crime is lodged?
Emp. Thou hast not broke my trust, reposed in thee!
Seb. Imposed, but not received.—Take back that falsehood.