ACT II.

SCENE, Another Part of the Island.

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

Gon. B

Efeech you, Sir, be merry: you have cause
(So have we all) of joy! for our escape

Is much beyond our lofs; our hint of woe
Is common; every day, fome failor's wife,
The mafters of fome merchant, and the merchant,
Have just our 'theam of woe: but for the miracle,
(I mean our prefervation) few in millions
Can fpeak like us; then wifely, good Sir, weigh
Our forrow with our comfort.

Alon. Pr'ythee, peace.

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

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

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

Seb. A dollor.

Gon. Dolour comes to him, indeed; you have fpoken truer than you propofed.

Seb. You have taken it wifelier than I meant you should.
Gon. Therefore, my lord,

Ant. Fie, what a fpend-thriftis 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,

first begins to crow?

Seb. The old Cock.

Ant. The cockrel.
Seb. Done: the wager?
Ant. A laughter.
b. A match.

Adr.

Adr. It must needs be of fubtle, tender, and delicate 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 most sweetly.
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 lush 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 almost bo yond credit

Seb. As many voucht rarities are.

Gon. That our garments being (as they were) drench'dTM in the fea, hold notwithstanding their freshness 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 lay, helies?

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 grac'd before with such a paragon to their Queen.,

Gon. Not fince widow Dido's time.

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

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

Adr

Adr. Widow Dido, faid you? you make me ftudy of thar: 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 houses too.

Ant. What impoffible matter will he make eafy 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 marriage 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, wicow Dido! ay, widow Dide!

Gon. Is not my doublet, Sir, as fresh as the first day
I wore it? I mean, in a fort.

Ant. That fort was well fish'd for.

Gon. When I wore it at your daughter's marriage.
Alon. You cram thefe 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;
Who is fo far from Italy remov❜d,

I ne'er again shall fee her: O thou mine beir
Of Naples and of Milan, what strange fish
Hath made his meal on thee?

'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 breasted

The furge most swoln that met him: his bold head
"Bove the contentious waves he kept, and oar'd
Himself 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,

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 lofe her to an African;

Where the, 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 importened 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 deareft o' th' lɔfs,

Gon. My lord Sebaftian.

The truth you fpeak, doth lack fome gentleness,

And time to fpeak it in; you tub the fore,

When you should 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 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 magiftrate;
Letters fhould not be known; wealth, poverty,
And use of service, none; contract, fucceffion;
Bourn, bound of land, tilth, vineyard, non;
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.

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

Gon. All things in common nature should produce,
Without fweat or endeavour. Treason, felony,
Sword, pike, koife, gun, or need of any engine,
Would I not have; but nature fhould 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; whøres and knaves.
Gon. I would with fuch perfection govern, Sir,
T'excel the golden age.

Seb. Save his Majefty!

Ant. Long live Gonzalo!

Gon. And, do you mark me, Sir ?

Alon. Prythee, no more; thou doft talk nothing to me. Gon. I do well believe your Highness; and did it to mi. nifter occafion to thefe gentlemen, who are of such sensible and nimble lungs, that they always ufe 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 fill. Ans. What a blow was there given?

Seb. An it had not fallen flat-long.

Gen. You are gentlemen of brave metal; you would lift the moon out of her fphere, if fhe 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, my good 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 with, mine eyes Would with themselves fhut up my thoughts: I find, They are inclin'd to fo do.

Seb. Pleafe you, Sir,

Do not omit the heavy offer of it:

It feldom vifits forrow; when it doth,

It is a comforter.