Org. Tush, I warrant thee. [The Fiddler plays and sings any odd fey, and Orlando wakes.
Orl. Who is this? Shan Cuttelero! heartily welcome, Shan Cuttelero.
Fid. No, sir, you should have said "Shan the Fidideldero."
Orl. What, hast thou brought me a sword? [Takes away his fiddle.
Fid. A sword! no, no, sir, that's my fiddle.
Orl. But dost thou think the temper to be good?
And will it hold, when thus and thus we Medor do assail?
[Strikes and beats him with the fiddle.
Fid. Lord, sir, you'll break my living!—[to Orgalio]
You told me your master was not mad.
Orl. Tell me, why hast thou marr'd my sword?
The pummel's well, the blade is curtal short:
Villain, why hast thou made it so?
[Breaks the fiddle about his head.
Fid. O Lord, sir, will you answer this? [Exit.
Enter Melissa with a glass of wine.
Orl. Orgalio, who is this?