Adr. It must needs be of subtle, tender, and delicate tem perance. Ant. Temperance was a delicate wench. Seb. Ay, and a subtle; as he most learnedly delivered. Ant. Or as 'twere perfumed by a fen. Gon. Here is every thing advantageous to life. Ant. True; save means to live. Seb. Of that there's none, or little. Gon. How lush and lusty the grass looks! how green! Ant. He misses not much. is tawny. in't. Seb. No; he doth but mistake the truth totally. Gon. But the rarity of it is, which is indeed almost beyond credit, Seb. As many vouched rarities are. Gon. That our garments, being, as they were, drenched in the sea, hold, notwithstanding, their freshness and gloss, being rather new-dyed than stained 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. Widow! a pox o' that! 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 raised 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. Alon. 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. Ant. 0, 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 fished for. Gon. When I wore it at your daughter's marriage? Alon. You cram these words into mine ears against 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 To the shore, that o'er his wave-worn basis bow'd, He came alive to land. 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. Prithee, peace. Seb. You were kneel'd to, and impórtun'd otherwise, By all of us; and the fair soul herself Weigh'd, between loathness and obedience, at Which end o' the beam she'd bow. We've lost your son, I fear, for ever: Milan and Naples have More widows in them of this business' making My lord Sebastian Alon. So is the dear'st o' the loss. When you should bring the plaster. Seb. Very well. Ant. And most chirurgeonly. Seb. Ant. Foul weather! Very foul. Gon. Had I plantation of this isle, my lord, Or docks, or mallows. Seb. Execute all things; for no kind of traffic And women too, · No sovereignty, Seb. all; but innocent and pure; 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 To feed my innocent people. Seb. No marrying 'mong his subjects? whores and knaves. Gon. I would with such perfection govern, sir, T'excel the golden age. Save his majesty! Ant. Long live Gonzalo! Alon. Prithee, 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 laughed 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. Seb. Enter ARIEL, invisible; solemn music playing. 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 except 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. Seb. Please you, sir, Will guard your person while you take your rest, Alon. Thank you. Wondrous heavy. [Alonso sleeps. Exit Ariel. Seb. What a strange drowsiness possesses them! Why Seb. Myself dispos'd to sleep. Ant. Nor I; my spirits are nimble. They fell together all, as by consent; They dropp'd, as by a thunder-stroke. What might, And yet methinks I see it in thy face, No more: What thou shouldst be: th' occasion speaks thee; and Dropping upon thy head. |