BOSOLA. Let 's walk towards it.

ANTONIO. No: it may be 'twas
But the rising of the wind.

BOSOLA. Very likely.
Methinks 'tis very cold, and yet you sweat:
You look wildly.

ANTONIO. I have been setting a figure<52>
For the duchess' jewels.

BOSOLA. Ah, and how falls your question?
Do you find it radical?<53>

ANTONIO. What 's that to you?
'Tis rather to be question'd what design,
When all men were commanded to their lodgings,
Makes you a night-walker.

BOSOLA. In sooth, I 'll tell you:
Now all the court 's asleep, I thought the devil
Had least to do here; I came to say my prayers;
And if it do offend you I do so,
You are a fine courtier.

ANTONIO. [Aside.] This fellow will undo me.--
You gave the duchess apricocks to-day:
Pray heaven they were not poison'd!