Gon. It is foul weather in us all, good sir, When you are cloudy. Seb. Ant. Foul weather? Very foul. Gon. Had I plantation of this isle, my lord, — Seb. Or docks, or mallows. Gon. And were the king on 't, what would I do? Seb. 'Scape being drunk for want of wine. Execute all things; for no kind of traffic And women too, but innocent and pure; Seb. Yet he would be king on 't. Ant. The latter end of his commonwealth forgets the beginning. Gon. All things in common nature should pro duce Without sweat or endeavour: treason, felony, Sword, pike, knife, gun, or need of any engine, Would I not have; but nature should bring forth, Of it own kind, all foison, all abundance, To feed my innocent people. Seb. No marrying 'mong his subjects? 150 160 Ant. None, man; all idle. Gon. I would with such perfection govern, sir, To excel the golden age. Seb. Save his majesty! Ant. Long live Gonzalo ! Gon. And, do you mark me, sir? Alon. Prithee, no more: thou dost talk noth-170 ing 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. 'T was 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 our of her sphere, if she would continue in it five weeks without changing. Enter ARIEL, invisible, playing solemn music 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 180 190 eyes Would, with themselves, shut up my thoughts: I find They are inclined to do so. Seb. Please you, sir, Do not omit the heavy offer of it: It seldom visits sorrow; when it doth, It is a comforter. Ant. We two, my lord, Will guard your person while you take your rest, Ant. It is the quality o' the climate. Seb. Why 200 Doth it not then our eyelids sink? I find not Myself disposed 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, Worthy Sebastian? O, what more: might? - No And yet methinks I see it in thy face, What thou shouldst be: the occasion speaks thee, and My strong imagination sees a crown Dropping upon thy head. Seb. What, art thou waking? I do; and surely 210 Ant. Do you not hear me speak? It is a sleepy language and thou speak'st Out of thy sleep. What is it thou didst say? With eyes wide open; standing, speaking, moving, Ant. Noble Sebastian, Thou let'st thy fortune sleep - die, rather; wink'st Whiles thou art waking. Seb. Thou dost snore distinctly; There's meaning in thy snores. Ant. I am more serious than my custom: you Must be so too, if heed me; which to do Trebles thee o'er. Seb. Well, I am standing water. Ant. I'll teach you how to flow. Hereditary sloth instructs me. Ant. Do so: to ebb If you but knew how you the purpose cherish Most often do so near the bottom run By their own fear or sloth. Seb. Prithee, say on: The setting of thine eye and cheek proclaim Ant. Thus, sir: Although this lord of weak remembrance, this, When he is earth'd, hath here almost persuaded, 220 230 Professes to persuade, 'T is as impossible that he 's undrown'd As he that sleeps here swims. Seb. That he 's undrown'd. Ant. the king his son's alive, I have no hope O, out of that "no hope" What great hope have you! no hope that way is 240 Another way so high a hope that even Ambition cannot pierce a wink beyond, But doubt discovery there. Will you grant with Ant. She that is queen of Tunis; she that dwells Ten leagues beyond man's life; she that from Naples Can have no note, unless the sun were post The man i' the moon 's too slow till new-born chins Be rough and razorable; she that We all were sea-swallow'd, though some cast again, Whereof what 's past is prologue, what to come Seb. What stuff is this! how say you? 'Tis true, my brother's daughter 's queen of Tunis; So is she heir of Naples; 'twixt which regions There is some space. Ant. A space whose every cubit |