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Enter Alonso, Sebastian, Anthonio, Gonzalo, Adrian,
Francisco, and others.
ESEECH you Sir, be merry: you have cause
Is much beyond our loss; our hint of woe
Alon. Pr’ythee peace.
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 spoken truer than he propos’d.
Seb. You have taken it wiselier than I meant you should.
Gon. 5 The visitor ... old edit. Warb. emend.
Gon. Well, I have done : but yet
Ant: Which of them, he, or Adrian, for a good wager, first begins to crow?
Seb. The old cock.
Adr. It must needs be of subtle, tender, and delicate temperance.
Ant. Temperance was a delicate wench.
Gon. But the rarity of it is, which is indeed almost beyond credit
Seb. As many voucht rarities are.
Gon. That our garments being (as they were) drench'd in the sea, hold notwithstanding their freshness and glosses, being rather new dy'd than stain’d with salt water.
Ant. If but one of his pockets could speak, would it not say he lies ?
Seb. Ay, or very falsely pocket up his report.
Gon. Methinks our garments are now as fresh as when we put them on first in Africk, at the marriage of the King's fair daughter Claribel to the King of Tunis.
Seb. 'Twas a sweet marriage, and we profper well in
Adr. Tunis was never graced before with such a paragon to their Queen.
Gon. Not since widow Dido's time.
Ant. Widow ? a pox o' that: how came that widow in? widow Dido!
Seb. What if he had said widower Æneas too? Good lord, how you take it!
Adr. Widow Dido, said you? you make me study of that: she was of Carthage, not of Tunis.
Gon. This Tunis, Sir, was Carthage.
Seb. I think he will carry this INand home in his pocket, and give it his son for an apple.
Ant. And sowing the kernels of it in the sea, bring forth more Inands.
Gon. Sir, we were talking that our garments seem now as fresh as when we were at Tunis at the marriage of your daughter, who is now Queen.
Ant. And the rarest that e'er came there,
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 fith'd for.
The stomach of my sense. Would I had never
Fran. Sir, he may live.
Alon. No, no, he's gone.
Seb. Sir, you may thank yourself for this great loss, That would not bless our Europe with your daughter, But rather lofe her to an African ; Where she, at least, is banish'd from your eye, Who hath cause to wet the grief on’t.
Alon. Pr’ythee peace.
Seb. You were kneeld to, and importun'd otherwise By all of us : and the fair soul her self Weigh'd between loathness and obedience, at Which end the beam should bow. We've lost 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 dearest of the loss.
Gon. My lord Sebastian,
Seb. Very well.
Ant. And most chirurgeonly.
Gon. It is foul weather in us all, good Sir,
Seb. Foul weather?
Gon. I'th' commonwealth I would by contraries
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
Seb. No marrying 'mong his subjects ?
Gon. I would with such perfection govern, Sir,
Seb. Save his Majesty!
Gon, 6 plantation 7 on't, 8 vineyard, none;