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Adrian. Tunis was never graced before with such a paragon to their queen. Gonzalo. Not since widow Dido's time. Antonio. How came that widow in? Widow Dido!

Sebastian. What if he had said, widower Æneas too! good lord, how you take it !

Adrian. Widow Dido, said you? you make me study of that: she was of Carthage, not of Tunis.

Gonzalo. This Tunis, sir, was Carthage.
Adrian. Carthage?
Gonzalo. I assure you, Carthage.
Antonio. His word is more than the miraculous harp.
Sebastian. He hath rais'd the wall, and houses too.
Antonio. What impossible matter will he make easy

next?

Sebastian. I think, he will carry this island home in his pocket, and give it his son for an apple.

Antonio. And, sowing the kernels of it in the sea, bring forth more islands.

Gonzalo. Ay? Antonio. Why, in good time. Gonzalo. 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.

Antonio. And the rarest that e'er came there.
Sebastian. 'Bate, I beseech you, widow Dido.
Antonio. O, widow Dido; ay, widow Dido.

Gonzalo. Is not, sir, my doublet as fresh as the first day I wore it? I mean, in a sort.

Antonio. That sort was well fish'd for.
Gonzalo. When I wore it at your daughter's marriage?

Alonso. You cram these words into mine ears against
The stomach of my sense: 'Would I had never
Married my daughter there! for, coming thence,
My son is lost; and, in my rate, she too,
Who is so far from Italy removed,
I ne'er again shall see her. O thou mine heir
Of Naples and of Milan, what strange fish
Hath made his meal on thee !

totoimi

Francisco . .

Sir, he may live;
I saw him beat the surges under him,
And ride upon their backs; he trod the water,
Whose enmity he flung aside, and breasted
The surge most swoln that met him; his bold head
'Bove the contentious waves he kept, and oar'd
Himself with his good arms in lusty stroke
To the shore, that o'er his wave-worn basis bow'd,
As stooping to relieve him; I not doubt,
He came alive to land.
Alonso.

No, no, he's gone.
Sebastian. Sir, you may thank yourself for this great

loss ; That would not bless our Europe with your daughter, But rather lose her to an African; Where she, at least, is banish'd from your eye, Who hath cause to wet the grief on't. Alonso.

Pr’ythee, peace, Sebastian. You were kneeld to, and importun'd

otherwise By all of us; and the fair soul herself Weigh’d, between lothness and obedience, at Which end o' the beam she'd bow. We have lost your

son,

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.

Alonso. So is the dearest of the loss.
Gonzalo.

My lord Sebastian,
The truth you speak doth lack some gentleness,
And time to speak it in: you rub the sore,
When you should bring the plaster.
Sebastian.

Very well.
Antonio. And most chirurgeonly.

Gonzalo. It is foul weather in us all, good sir,
When you are cloudy.
Sebastian.

Foul weather
Antonio.

Very foul.

Gonzalo. Had I a plantation of this islo, my lord,
Antonio. He'd sow it with nettle-seed.
Sebastian.

Or docks, or mallows.
Gonzalo. And were the king of it, What would I do?
Sebastian. 'Scape being drunk for want of wine.
Gonzalo. I' the commonwealth I would by contraries
Execute all things : for no kind of traffic
Would I admit; no name of magistrate;
Letters should not be known; no use of service,
Of riches or of poverty; no contracts,
Succession; bound of land, tilth, vineyard, none:
No use of metal, corn, or wine, or oil:
No occupation; all men idle, all;
And women too; but innocent and pure:
No sovereignty :-

Sebastian. And yet he would be king on't.

Antonio. The latter end of his commonwealth forgets the beginning. Gonzalo. 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 its own kind, all foison, all abundance,
To feed my innocent people.
I would with such perfection govern, sir,
To excel the golden age.
Sebastian.

'Save his majesty!
Antonio. Long live Gonzalo!
Gonzalo.

And, do you mark me, sir?Alonso. Pr’ythee, no more: thou dost talk nothing

to me. Gonzalo. 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 used to laugh at nothing.

Antonio. 'Twas you we laugh'd at.
Gonzalo. Who, in this kind of merry fooling, am

5 Plenty.

nothing to you; so you may continue, and langh at nothing still.

Antonio. What a blow was there given!
Sebastian. An it had not fallen flat-long.

Gonzalo. You are gentlemen of brave metal: you would lift the moon out of her sphere, if she would continue in it five weeks without changing.

Enter ARIEL invisible, playing solemn music. Sebastian. We would so, and then go a bat-fowling. Antonio. Nay, good my lord, be not angry.

Gonzalo. No, I warrant you; I will not adventure my discretion so weakly. Will you laugh me asleep, for I am very heavy? Antonio. Go sleep, and hear us.

[All sleep but ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, and ANTONIO.
Alonso. What, all so soon asleep! I wish mine eyes
Would, with themselves, shut up my thoughts: I find
They are inclin'd to do so.
Sebastian.

Please you, sir,
Do not admit the heavy offer of it:
It seldom visits sorrow: when it doth,
It is a comforter.

Antonio. We two, my lord,
Will guard your person, while you take your rest,
And watch your safety.
Alonso.

Thank you: wondrous heavy.

[ALONSO sleeps. Exit ARIEL. Sebastian. What a strange drowsiness possesses them! Antonio. It is the quality o' the climate.

Sebastian.
Doth it not then our eyelids sink? I find not
Myself dispos’d to sleep.
Antonio.

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?—0, what might ?—No more : -
And yet, methinks, I see it in thy face,
What thou should'st be: the occasion speaks thee; and

* Why

My strong imagination sees a crown
Dropping upon thy head,
Sebastian.

What, art thou waking?
Antonio. Do you not hear me speak?
Sebastian.

I do; and surely,
It is a sleepy language; and thou speak’st
Out of thy sleep: What is it thou didst say?
This is a strange repose, to be asleep
With eyes wide open; standing, speaking, moving,
And yet so fast asleep.
Antonio.

Noble Sebastian,
Thou let'st thy fortune sleep-die rather; wink'st
Whiles thou art waking.
Sebastian.

Thou dost snore distinctly; There's meaning in thy snores.

Antonio. I am more serious than my custom: you
Must be so too, if heed me; which to do,
Trebles thee o'er.

Sebastian. Well; I am standing water.
Antonio. I'll teach you how to flow.
Sebastian.

Do so: to ebb,
Hereditary sloth instructs me.
Antonio.

0,
If you but knew, how you the purpose cherish,
Whiles thus you mock it! how, in stripping it,
You more invest it! Ebbing men, indeed,
Most often do so near the bottom run,
By their own fear, or sloth.
Sebastian.

Pr’ythee, say on:
The setting of thine eye, and cheek, proclaim
A matter from thee; and a birth, indeed,
Which throes thee much to yield.
Antonio.

Thus, sir,
Although this lord of weak remembrance, this
(Who shall be of as little memory,
When he is earth’d,) hath here almost persuaded
(For he's a spirit of persuasion only,)
The king his son's alive: ’tis as impossible
That he's undrowned as he that sleeps here, swims.

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