Seb. Why

Doth it not then our eye-lids fink? I find not
Myfelf difpos'd to fleep.

Ant. Nor I, my fpirits are nimble :
They fell together all as by confent,

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: the occafion fpeaks thee, and My ftrong imagination fees a crown

Dropping upon thy head.

Seb. What, art thou waking?
Ant. Do you not hear me speak?
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 so fast asleep.

Ant. Noble Sebaftian,

Thou let'ft thy fortune fleep; die rather: wink'st,
Whilft thou art waking.

Seb. Thou doft fnore diftinctly;

There's meaning in thy fnores.

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

Trebles thee o'er.

Seb. Well I am ftanding water.
Ant. I'll teach you how to flow.
Seb. Do fo: to ebb

Hereditary floth inftructs me.

Ant. O!

If you but knew, how you the purpose cherish,
Whilft thus you mock it; how, in ftripping it,

You more inveft it, ebbing men, indeed,

Most often do fo near the bottom run,

By their own fear or floth.

Seb. Pr'ythee, fay

on;

· D 3

The

The fetting of thine eye and cheek proclaim
A matter from thee; and a birth, indeed,
Which throes thee much to yield.
Ant. Thus, Sir:

Although this lord of weak remembrance, this,
Who fhall be of as little memory,

When he is earth'd; hath here almost perfuaded,
For he's a fpirit of perfuafion, only 3
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,

way,

What great hope have you? no hope, that is
Another way fo high an hope, that even

Ambition cannot pierce a wink beyond, +

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

Seb. He's gone.

Ant. Then tell me

Who's the next heir of Naples?

Seb. Claribel.

Ant. She that is Queen of Tunis; fhe that dwells Ten leagues beyond man's life; fhe that from Naples

2 This lord who being now in his dotage has outlived his faculty of remembring, and who once laid in the Ground fhall be as little remembred himself as he can now remember other things. 3 For he's a spirit of perfcafion.] Of this entangled fentence I can draw no fenfe from the prefent reading, and therefore imagine that the Authour gave it thus: Fo he, a Spirit of perfuafion, only Profeffes to perfuade.

Of which the meaning may be

either that he alone who is a Spirit of perfuafion, profefles to perfuace the King; or that, He only profeffes to perfuade, that is, withcut being fo perfuaded himself be makes a fhor of perfuading the King.

4 That this is the utmoft extent of the profpect of ambition, the point where the eye can pafs no further, and where objects lofe there difcovered, is faint, obfcure, their diftin&tnefs, so that what is

and doubtful.

Can

,,་

Can have no note, unless the fun were poft,
(The man i' th' moon's too flow) 'till new-born chins
Be rough and razorable; fhe, from whom

We were fea-fwallow'd: tho' fome, caft again, s
And by that destiny, to perform an act,

Whereof, what's paft is prologue; what to come,
Is yours and my difcharge-

Seb. What stuff 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 space.

Ant. A fpace, whofe ev'ry cubit

Seems to cry out, how fhall that Claribel
Measure us back to Naples? Keep in Tunis,

And let Sebaftian wake. Say, this were death
That now hath feiz'd them, why, they were no worse
Than now they are: there be, that can rule Naples,
As well as he that fleeps; lords that can prate
As amply, and unneceffarily,

As this Gonzalo; I myself could make

A chough of as deep chat. O, that you bore
The mind that I do; what a fleep was 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 Profpero.

5 Thefe lines ftand in the old Edition thus:

though fome caft again And by that definy, to perform

an at,

cept that in the last line in fhould be is, and perhaps we might better fay-and that by deftiny. It being a common plea of wickednefs to call temptation destiny.

6-Keep in Tunis.] There is in this paffage a propriety loft which a flight alteration will reftore.

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? 7

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

Ten confciences, that stand 'twixt me and Milan,
Candy'd be they, and melt, ere they moleft!
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 obedient fteel, 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 course. For all the reft,
They'll take fuggeftion, as a cat laps milk;
They'll tell the clock to any business, 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 stroke
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. O, but one word

Enter Ariel, with Mufick and Song.

Ari. My mafter through his art forefees the danger, That you, his friend, are in; and fends me forth For elfe his project dies to keep them living.

[Sings in Gonzalo's Ear.

While you here do fnoring lye,

Open-ey'd confpiracy

His time doth take:

If of life you keep a care,

Shake off lumber and beware:
Awake! awake!

Ant. Then let us both be fudden.

Gon. Now, good angels preferve the King![They wake.
Alon. Why, how now, ho? awake? why are you
drawn?.

Wherefore this ghaftly looking?
Gon. What's the matter?

9 to keep them living.] i. e. Alonzo and Antonio; for it was on their lives that his project depended. Yet the Oxford Editor alters them, to you, because in the verfe before, it is faid-you bis friend; as if, because Ariel was jent forth to save his friend, he could not have another purpofe in fending him, viz. to jave his project too. WARBURTON. I think Dr. Warburton and the Oxford Editor both mistaken. The fenfe of the paffage as it now ftands is this: He fees your danger and will therefore fave them. Dr. Warburton has mif