To excel the golden age.

Seb.

'Save his majesty!

Ant. Long live Gonzalo !
Gon.
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 above,' 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 inclined to do so.

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. Wondrous heavy.-[ALON. sleeps.
Seb. What a strange drowsiness possesses them!
Ant. It is the quality of the climate.

Seb. Why Doth inot, then, our eye-lids sink? I find not Myself disposed to sleep.

1 Not in f. e. 2 Exit ARIEL: in f. e.

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. Th' occasion speaks thee, and My strong imagination sees a crown

Dropping upon thy head.

Seb.

What! art thou waking?

Ant. Do you not hear me speak?

Seb.

I do; and, surely,

It is a sleepy language, and thou speak'st
Out of thy sleep. What is it thou didst say?
This is a strange repose, to be asleep

With eyes wide open; standing, speaking, moving,
And yet so fast asleep.

Ant.

Noble Sebastian,

Thou let'st thy fortune sleep-die rather; wink'st
Whiles thou art waking.

Seb.

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.

If you but knew, how you the purpose cherish,
Whiles thus you mock it! how, in stripping it,
You more invest it! Ebbing men, indeed,
Most often do so near the bottom run

By their own fear, or sloth.

Seb.

Pr'ythee, say on.

The setting of thine eye, and cheek, proclaim
A matter from thee; and a birth, indeed,

Which throes thee much to yield.

Thus, sir,

Ant. Although this lord of weak remembrance, this (Who shall be of as little memory,

When he is earth'd) hath here almost persuaded (For he's a spirit of persuasion, only

Professes to persuade) the king, his son's alive,

'Tis as impossible that he 's undrown'd, As he that sleeps here, swims.

Seb. I have no hope

That he 's undrown'd.

Ant.

O! out of that no hope,

What great hope have you! no hope, that way, is
Another way so high a hope, that even
Ambition cannot pierce a wink beyond,

But doubts discovery there. Will you grant, with me,
That Ferdinand is drown'd?

Ant. She that is queen of Tunis; she that dwells Ten leagues beyond man's life; she that from Naples Can have no note, unless the sun were post,

(The man i' the moon 's too slow) till new-born chins Be rough and razorable; she, for' whom

We all were sea-swallow'd, though some cast again;
And by that destiny to perform an act

Whereof what's past is prologue, what 's' to come,
In yours and my discharge.

Seb.
What stuff is this!-How say you?
'Tis true, my brother's daughter 's queen of Tunis;
So is she heir of Naples; 'twixt which regions
There is some space.

Ant.
A space whose every cubit
Seems to cry out, "How shall that Claribel
Measure us back to Naples ?"-Keep in Tunis,
And let Sebastian wake!-Say, this were death

That now hath seized them; why, they were no worse
Than now they are. There be, that can rule Naples
As well as he that sleeps; lords that, can prate

As amply, and unnecessarily,

As this Gonzalo; I myself could make

A chough of as deep chat. O, that you bore
The mind that I do! what a sleep were this
For your advancement!

Seb. Methinks, I do.

Do you understand me?

And how does your content

Ant.
Tender your own good fortune?
Seb.

I remember,

1 from in f. e. 2 what: in f. e.

You did supplant your brother Prospero.

Ant.

True:

And look how well my garments sit upon me;
Much feater than before. My brother's servants
Were then my fellows, now they are my men.
Seb. But, for your conscience-

Ant. Ay, sir; where lies that? if it were a kybe,
'T would put me to my slipper; but I feel not
This deity in my bosom: twenty consciences,
That stand 'twixt me and Milan, candied be they,
And melt, ere they molest! Here lies your brother,
No better than the earth he lies upon,

If he were that which now he 's like, that 's dead,
Whom I, with this obedient steel, three inches of it,
Can lay to bed for ever; whiles you, doing thus,
To the perpetual wink for aye might put
This ancient morsel, this Sir Prudence, who
Should not upbraid our course: for all the rest,
They'll take suggestion as a cat laps milk;
They'll tell the clock to any business that
We say befits the hour.

Seb.

Thy case, dear friend, Shall be my precedent: as thou got'st Milan,

I'll come by Naples. Draw thy sword: one stroke Shall free thee from the tribute which thou pay'st, And I, the king, shall love thee.

Ant.

Draw together;

And when I rear my hand, do you the like,
To fall it on Gonzalo.

Seb.

O! but one word. [They converse apart. Music. ARIEL descends invisible.1

Ari. My master through his art foresees the danger That you, his friend, are in; and sends me forth

(For else his project dies) to keep them living.

[Sings in GONZALO's ear.

While you here do snoring lie,
Open-eyed conspiracy

His time doth take.

If of life you keep a care,
Shake off slumber, and beware:
Awake! Awake!

Ant. Then, let us both be sudden.

1 Music. Re-enter ARIEL, invisible: in f. e.

Gon. Now, good angels, preserve the king!

[They wake. Alon. Why, how now, ho! awake! Why are you

drawn?

Wherefore thus' ghastly looking?

Gon. What's the matter? Seb. Whiles we stood here securing your repose, Even now, we heard a hollow burst of bellowing, Like bulls, or rather lions: did it not wake you? It struck mine ear most terribly.

Alon.

I heard nothing.

Ant. O! 't was a din to fright a monster's ear, To make an earthquake: sure, it was the roar Of a whole herd of lions.

Alon.

Heard you this, Gonzalo?

Gon. Upon mine honour, sir, I heard a humming, And that a strange one too, which did awake me. I shak'd you, sir, and cry'd: as mine eyes open'd, I saw their weapons drawn.-There was a noise, That's verity: 'tis best we stand upon our guard, Or that we quit this place. Let's draw our weapons. Alon. Lead off this ground, and let's make farther search

For my poor son.

Gon. Heavens keep him from these beasts,

For he is, sure, i' the island.

Alon.

Ari. Prospero, my lord, shall know what I have done :

Lead away. [Exeunt.

[Exit.

So, king, go safely on to seek thy son.

SCENE II.-Another part of the Island.
Enter CALIBAN, with a burden of wood.
A noise of thunder heard.

Cal. All the infections that the sun sucks up
From bogs, fens, flats, on Prosper fall, and make him
By inch-meal a disease! His spirits hear me,

And yet I needs must curse; but they'll not pinch,
Fright me with urchin shows, pitch me i' the mire,
Nor lead me, like a fire-brand, in the dark
Out of my way, unless he bid 'em; but
For every trifle are they set upon me:
Sometime like apes, that moe and chatter at me,

1 this in f. e. 2 Collier's ed., 1844, reads, "verily "-most of the other editions, "verity," as in the text. 3 nor in f. e.