Gon. My lord Sebaftian,

The truth you speak doth lack fome gentleness
And th' time you speak it in: you rub the fore
When you fhould bring the plaister,

Seb. Very well.

Ant, And moft chirurgeonly.

Gon. It is foul weather in us all, good Sir, When you are cloudy.

Seb. Foul weather?

Ant. Very foul.

Gon. Had I the planting of this Ifle, my lord-→→→→→
Ant. He'd fow't with nettle-feed.

Seb. Or docks, or mallows.

Gon. And were the King of it, what would I do?
Seb. Scape being drunk, for want of wine,
Gon. I' th' commonwealth I would by contraries
Execute all things: for no kind of traffick
Would I admit, no name of magiftrate;
Letters fhould not be known; wealth, poverty,
And ufe of fervice, none; contract, fucceffion,

Borne, bound of land, tilth, vineyard, olives, none;
No ufe of metal, corn, or wine, or oyl;

No occupation, all men idle, all,

And women too; but innocent and pure :
No Sov❜reignty.

Seb. And yet he would be King on't.

4

Ant. The latter end of the commonwealth forgets the beginning.

Gon. All things in common nature should produce
Without fweat or endeavour. Treason, felony,
Sword, pike, knife, gun, or need of any engine
Would I not have; but nature should bring forth,
Of its own kind, all foyzon, all abundance
To feed my innocent people.

Seb. No marrying 'mong his fubjects?

Ant. None, man; all idle; whores and knaves, Gon. I would with fuch perfection govern, Sir, T'excell the golden age.

Seb. Save his Majesty!
Ant, Long live Gonzale

Gon

Gen. And do you mark me, Sir?

Alon. Pr'ythee no more; thou doft talk nothing to me. Gon. I do well believe your Highnefs, and did it to minifter occafion to thefe gentlemen, who are of fuch fenfible 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: fo 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 metal ; you would lift the moon out of her sphere, if the would continue in it five weeks without changing.

[Enter Ariel playing folemn mufick. Seb. We would fo, and then go a bat-fowling.

Ant. Nay, good my lord be not angry.

Gon. No I warrant you, I will not adventure my dif cretion fo weakly: will you laugh me asleep, for I am very heavy?

Ant. Go fleep, and hear us.

Alon. What all fo foon afleep? I wifh mine eyes Would with themselves fhut up my thoughts: I find They are inclin'd to do fo

Seb. Pleafe you, Sir,

Do not omit the heavy offer of it:

It seldom vifits forrow; when it doth,

It is a comforter.

Ant. We two, my lord,

Will guard your perfon, while you take your reft,

And watch your fafety.

Alon. Thank you: wond'rous heavy.

[All fleep but Seb. and Ant.

Seb. What a ftrange drowfinefs poffeffes them?

Ant. It is the quality o'th' climate,

Seb. Why

Doth it not then our eye-lids fink? I find not

Myfelf difpos'd to fleep.

Ant. Nor I, my spirits are nimble :

They fell together all as by confent,
VOL. I.

They

They dropt as by a thunder-ftroke. What might?

Worthy Sebaftian

O what might?

And yet methinks I fee it in thy face,

no more.

What thou should'ft be: th' occafion speaks thee, and

My ftrong imagination fees a crown

Dropping upon thy head.

Seb. What, art thou waking?
Ant. Do you not hear me fpeak?
Seb. I do; and furely

It is a fleepy language, and thou fpeak'st

Out of thy fleep: what is it thou didst say?

This is a ftrange repofe, to be asleep

With eyes wide open: ftanding, fpeaking, moving;
And yet fo faft afleep.

Ant. Noble Sebaftian,

Thou let'ft thy fortune fleep, die rather; wink't
Whilft thou art waking.

Seb. Thou doft fnore diftinctly;

There's meaning in thy fnores.

Ant. I am more ferious than my cuftom. You Maft be fo, if you heed me; which to do,

If you but knew how you the purpose cherish,
Whilft thus you mock it! how in stripping it
You more inveft it! ebbing men, indeed,
Moft often do fo near the bottom run,
By their own fear or floth.

Seb. Pr'ythee fay on,

The fetting of thine eye and cheek proclaim
A matter from thee; and a birth, indeed,
Which throws thee much to yield.

Ant. Why then thus Sir:

Although this lord of weak remembrance; this
Who shall be of as little memory

When he is earth'd, hath here almoft perfuaded

(For

(For he's a fpirit of perfuafion, only
Profeffes to perfuade) the King his fon's alive;
"Tis as impoffible that he's undrown'd,

As he that fleeps here, fwims.

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 an hope, that even

Ambition cannot pierce a wink beyond,

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

Ant. She that is Queen of Tunis; the that dwells
Ten leagues beyond man's life; the that from Naples
Can have no * Note, unless the fun were poft,
(The man i'th' moon too flow) till new-born chins
Be rough and razorable; fhe from whom

We were fea-fwallow'd; tho' fome, cast again,
May by that destiny perform an act

Whereof what's paft is prologue, what to come
yours and my discharge

Is

Seb. What ftuff is this? how fay you?

'Tis true, my brother's daughter's Queen of Tunis, So is the heir of Naples, 'twixt which regions There is fome fpace.

Ant. A fpace whofe ev'ry cubit

Seems to cry out, how shalt thou, Claribel,
Measure it back to Naples? Keep in Tunis,

And let Sebaftian wake. Say, this were death

That now hath feiz'd them, why they were no worfe
Than now they are: there be that can rule Naples
As well as he that fleeps: lords that can prate

As amply, and unneceffarily,

*No advices by letter.

As this Gonzalo; I myfelf could make
A Chough of as deep chat. O, that you bore
The mind that I do; what a fleep were this
For your advancement! do you understand me?
Seb. Methinks I do.

Ant. And how does your content
Tender your own good fortune?

Seb. I remember

You did fupplant your brother Profpro.
Ant. True:

And look how well my garments fit upon me,
Much feater than before. My brother's fervants
Were then my fellows, now they are my men.
Seb. But for your confcience.

Ant. Ay, Sir; where lyes that?

If 'twere a kybe, 'twould put me to my flipper s
But I feel not this deity in my bofom.

Ten confciences that flood 'twixt me and Milan,
Candy'd were they, wou'd melt ere they molested.
Here lyes your brother

No better than the earth he lyes upon,

If he were that which now he's like, that's dead
Whom I with this obedience steel, three inches of it,
Can lay to bed for ever; you, doing thus,
To the perpetual wink for ay might put
This ancient Morfel, this Sir Prudence, who
Should not upbraid our courfe. For all the reft,
'They'll take fuggeftion, as a cat laps milk;
They'll tell the clock to any bufiness that
We fay befits the hour.

Seb. Thy cafe, dear friend,

Shall be my precedent: as thou got'ft Milan,

I'll come by Naples. Draw thy fword, one ftroke
Shall free thee from the tribute which thou pay'ft,
And I the King fhall love thee.

Ant. Draw together:

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

Seb. But one word.

Bater