Vio. [Takes up the ring.] I left no ring with her: What means this lady?
Fortune forbid, my outside have not charm'd her!
She made good view of me; indeed, so much,
That, sure, methought, her eyes had lost her tongue,
For she did speak in starts distractedly.
She loves me, sure; the cunning of her passion
Invites me in this churlish messenger.
None of my lord's ring!—Why, he sent her none.
I am the man;—If it be so, (as 'tis,)
Poor lady! She were better love a dream.
What will become of this? As I am man,
My state is desperate for my master's love;
As I am woman,—now alas the day!—
What thriftless sighs shall poor Olivia breathe!
O time, thou must entangle this, not I;
It is too hard a knot for me to untie.
[Exit.
ACT THE SECOND.
SCENE I.
A Sea-port.
Enter Sebastian and Antonio.
Ant. 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 shall crave of you your leave, that I may bear my evils alone: It were a bad recompense for your love, to lay any of them on you.