Gon. But the rarity of it is (which is indeed almost beyond credit) Seb. As many vouch'd rarities are. Gon. That our garments, being, as they were, drenched in the sea, hold, notwithstanding, their freshness, and glosses; being rather new dy'd, than stain'd with salt water. Ant. If but one of his pockets could speak, would it not say, he lies? Seb. Ay, or very falsely pocket up his report. Gon. Methinks, our garments are now as fresh as when we put them on first in Afric, at the marriage of the king's fair daughter Claribel to the king of Tunis. Seb. 'Twas a sweet marriage, and we prosper well in our return. Adr. Tunis was never graced before with such a paragon to their queen. Gon. Not since widow Dido's time. Ant. How came that widow in? Widow Dido! Seb. What if he had said, widower Æneas too? good lord, how you take it! Adr. Widow Dido, said you? you make me study of that she was of Carthage, not of Tunis. Gon. This Tunis, sir, was Carthage. Adr. Carthage? Gon. I assure you, Carthage. Ant. His word is more than the miraculous harp. Seb. He hath rais'd the wall, and houses too. Ant. What impossible matter will he make easy next? Seb. I think, he will carry this island home in his pocket, and give it his son for an apple. Ant. And, sowing the kernels of it in the sea, bring forth more islands. Gon. Ay? Ant. Why, in good time. Gon. Sir, we were talking, that our garments seem now as fresh, as when we were at Tunis at the marriage of your daughter, who is now queen. Ant. And the rarest that e'er came there. Seb. 'Bate, I beseech you, widow Dido. Ant. O, Widow Dido; ay, widow Dido. Gon. Is not, sir, my doublet as fresh as the first day I wore it? I mean, in a sort. Ant. That sort was well fish'd for. Gon. When I wore it at your daughter's marriage? Alon. You cram these words into mine. ears against The stomach of my sense: 'Would I had never I ne'er again shall see her. O thou mine heir Fran. Sir, he may live; I saw him beat the surges under him, And ride upon their backs; he trod the water, The surge most swoln that met him: his bold head 'Bove the contentious waves he kept, and oar'd Himself with his good arms in lusty stroke To the shore, that o'er his wave-worn basis bow'd, As stooping to relieve him; I not doubt, He came alive to land. Alon. No, no, he's gone. Seb. Sir, you may thank yourself for this great loss; That would not bless our Europe with your daughter, But rather lose her to an African; Where she, at least, is banish'd from your eye, Who hath cause to wet the grief on't. Alon. Pr'ythee, peace. Seb. You were kneel'd to, and importun'd other wise By all of us; and the fair soul herself Weigh'd, between lothness and obedience, at your son, We have lost I fear, for ever: Milan and Naples have More widows in them of this business' making, Than we bring men to comfort them: the fault's Your own. Alon. So is the dearest of the loss. Gon. My lord Sebastian, The truth you speak doth lack some gentleness, And time to speak it in: you rub the sore, When you should bring the plaster. Seb. Very well. Ant. And most chirurgeonly. When you are cloudy. Seb Ant. Foul weather? Very foul. Gon. Had I a plantation of this isle, my lord. Seb. Gon. I' the commonwealth I would by contraries Execute all things: for no kind of traffic No sovereignty: Seb. pure: And yet he would be king on't. Ant. The latter end of his commonwealth forgets the beginning. Gon. All things in common, nature should produce Without sweat or endeavour: treason, felony, Sword, pike, knife, gun, or need of any engine, I would with such perfection govern, sir, Seb. Ant. Long live Gonzalo ! Gon. 'Save his majesty! And, do you mark me, sir?Alon. Pr'ythee, no more: thou dost talk nothing to me. Gon. I do well believe your highness; and did it to minister occasion to these gentlemen, who are of such sensible and nimble lungs, that they always use to laugh at nothing. Ant. 'Twas you we laugh'd at. Gon. Who in this kind of merry fooling, am nothing to you; so you may continue, and laugh at nothing still. Ant. What a blow was there given! Seb. An it had not fallen flat-long. Gon. You are gentlemen of brave mettle; you would lift the moon out of her sphere, if she would continue in it five weeks without changing. Enter ARIEL invisible, playing solemn music. Seb. We would so, and then go a bat-fowling. Ant. Nay, good my lord, be not angry. Gon. No, I warrant you; I will not adventure my discretion so weakly. Will you laugh me asleep, for I am very heavy? Ant. Go sleep, and hear us. [All sleep but ALON. SEB. and ANT. Alon. What, all so soon asleep! I wish mine eyes Would, with themselves, shut up my thoughts: I find, They are inclin'd to do so. 5 Plenty. Seb. Please you, sir, Do not omit the heavy offer of it: It seldom visits sorrow; when it doth, It is a comforter. Ant. We two, my lord, Will guard your person, while you take your rest, And watch your safety. Alon. Thank you: Wond'rous heavy. [ALONSO sleeps. Exit ARIEL. Seb. What a strange drowsiness possesses them! Ant. It is the quality o' the climate. Why Seb. Ant. Nor I; my spirits are nimble. They fell together all, as by consent; They dropp'd, as by a thunder-stroke. What might, Worthy Sebastian?-O, what might??—No more :And yet, methinks, I see it in thy face, What thou should'st be: the occasion speaks thee; and My strong imagination sees a crown Seb. What, art thou waking? I do; and, surely, Ant. Do you not hear me speak? With eyes wide open; standing, speaking, moving, Ant. Thou let'st thy fortune sleep Whiles thou art waking. Seb. Noble Sebastian, die rather; wink'st Thou dost snore distinctly; There's meaning in thy snores. Ant. I am more serious than my custom: you Must be so too, if heed me; which to do, Trebles thee o'er. |