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Hark what thou elfe fhaft do me.

Mira. Be of comfort,

My father's of a better nature, Sir,
Than he appears by fpeech: this is unwonted
Which now came from him.

Pro. Thou shalt be as free

As mountain winds; but then exactly do
All points of my command, i
Ari. To th' fyllable.

Pro. Come follow: fpeak not for him.



Another Part of the Ifland.

Enter Alonfo, Sebaftian, Anthonio, Gonzalo, Adrian, Francifco, and others.


ESEECH you Sir, be merry: you have cause

(So have we all) of joy! for our efcape Is much beyond our lofs; our hint of



Is common; every day, fome failor's wife,

The mafters of fome merchant, and the merchant
Have juft our theam of woe: but for the miracle,
(I mean our prefervation) few in millions

Can fpeak like us: then wifely, goood Sir, weigh
Our forrow with our comfort,



Alon. Pr'ythee peace. t

Seb. He receives comfort like cold porridge.
Ant. The vifitor will not give o'er so.

Seb. Look, he's winding up the watch of his wit, by and by it will strike.

Gon. Sir.
Seb. On


Gon. When every grief is entertain'd that's of fer'd; comes to the entertainer

Seb. A dollor.

Gon. Dolour comes to him indeed, you have 26fpoken truer than you propos'd.

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Seb. You have taken it wiselier than I meant you fhould.

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Gon. Therefore, my lord.

Ant. Fie, what a fpend-thrift is he of his tongue?
Alon. I pr'ythee fpare.

Gon. Well, I have done: but yet

Seb. He will be talking.

Ant. Which of them, he, or Adrian, for a good wager, firft begins to crow?

Seb. The old cock.

Ant. The cockrell.

Seb. Done: the wager?

Ant. A laughter.

Seb. A match.

Adr. Though this Ifland feem to be defart

Seb. Ha, ha, ha.

Ant. So you're paid.

Adr. Uninhabitable, and almoft inacceffible

• Seb. Yet.

• Adr. Yet

Ant. He could not miss't.


• Adr

All this that follows after the words, Pr'ythee peace----to the words You cram these words, &c. feems to have been interpolated, (perhaps by the Players) the verses there beginning again; and all that is between in profe, not only being very im pertinent stuff, but most improper and ill-plac'd Drollery in the mouths of unhappy shipwreckt people. There is more of the fame fort interfpers'd in the remaining part of the Scene

Adr. It muft needs be of fubtle, tender, and de licate temperance.

Ant. Temperance was a delicate wench.

Seb. Ay, and a fubtle, as he most learnedly deliver'd.
Adr. The air breathes upon us here moft fweetly.
Seb. As if it had lungs, and rotten ones.
Ant. Or, as 'twere perfum'd by a fen.
Gon. Here is every thing advantageous to life.
Ant. True, fave means to live.

Seb. Of that there's none or little.

Gon. How lufh and lufty the grafs looks? how green?

Ant. The ground indeed is tawny.

Seb. With an eye of green in't.

Ant. He miffes not much.

Seb. No: he does but mistake the truth totally. Gon. But the rarity of it is, which is indeed almoft beyond credit

Seb. As many voucht rarities are.

Gon. That our garments being (as they were) drench'd in the fea, hold notwithstanding their freshnefs and gloffes, being rather new dy'd than ftain'd with falt water.

• Ant. If but one of his pockets could speak, would it not fay he lies?

Seb. Ay, or very falfely pocket up his report. "Gon. Methinks our garments are now as fresh as when we put them on firft in Africk, at the marriage of the King's fair daughter Claribel to the King of Tunis.

Seb. 'Twas a fweet marriage, and we profper well in our return.

Adr. Tunis was never graced before with fuch a paragon to their Queen.

Gon. Not fince widow Dido's time.

Ant. Widow? a pox o' that: how came that widow in widow Dido!

Seb. What if he had faid widower Eneas too? Good lord, how you take it!

Adr. Widow Dido, faid you? you make me ftu


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dy of that: fhe was of Carthage, not of Tunis.
Gon. This Tunis, Sir, was Carthage.
Adr. Carthage?

• Gon. I affure you Carthage.

Ant. His word is more than the miraculous harp Seb. He hath rais'd the wall, and houfes too. Ant. What impoffible matter will he make easie • next?

Seb. I think he will carry this Ifland home in his pocket, and give it his fon for an apple.

Ant. And fowing the kernels of it in the fea,' bring forth more Islands.

Gon. Ay.

Ant. Why in good time.

Gon. Sir, we were talking that our garments feem now as fresh as when we were at Tunis at the mar riage of your daughter, who is now Queen.

Ant. And the rareft that e'er came there.
Seb. Bate, I beseech you, widow Dido.
Ant. O, widow Dido! ay, widow Dido!
Gon. Is not my doublet, Sir, as fresh as the firft
day I wore it? I mean in a fort.

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• Ant. That fort 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 ftomach of my fenfe. Would I had never
Married my daughter there! for coming thence
My fon is loft, and, in my rate, fhe too,

ng Who is fo far from Italy remov'd,

I ne'er again fhall fee her: O thou mine heir
Of Naples and of Milan, what ftrange filh
Hath made his meal on thee?

1 Fran. Sir, he may live.

I faw him beat the furges under him,

And ride upon their backs; he trode the water,
Whofe enmity he flung afide; and breafted

The furge moft fwoll'n that met him: his bold head
'Bove the contentious waves he kept, and oar'd
Himfelf with his good arms in lufty strokes
To th' fhore; that o'er his wave-worn bafis bow'd

As ftooping to relieve him: I not doubt
He came alive to land.

Alon. No, no, he's gone.

Seb. Sir, you may thank your felf for this great lofs, That would not blefs our Europe with your daughter, But rather lose her to an Affrican;

Where fhe, at least, is banish'd from your eye,
Who hath caufe to wet the grief on't.

Alon. Pr'ythee peace.

Seb. You were kneel'd to, and importun'd otherwise By all of us and the fair foul her felf

Weigh'd between loathness and obedience, at Which end the beam fhould bow. We've loft your fon

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 dear'ft o'th' lofs.

Gon. My lord Sebaftian,

The truth you fpeak doth lack fome gentleness
And time to fpeak it in: you rub the fore
When you fhould bring the plaifter.

Seb. Very well.

Ant. And moft chirurgeonly.

Gon. It is

weather in us all, good Sir,


When you are

Seb. Foul weather?

Ant. Very foul,

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

Seb. Or docks, or mallows

Gon. And were the King on't, 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 magistrate;
Letters fhould not be known; wealth, poverty,
And use of service, none; contract, fucceffion,
Bourn, bound of land, tilth, vineyard, none;


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