Adr. Widow Dido, said you? you make me study of that: She was of Carthage, not of Tunis. Gon. This Tunis, fir, was Carthage. Adr. Carthage? Gon. I affure you, Carthage. Ant. His word is more than the miraculous harp. Ant. What impoffible matter will he make eafy next? Seb. I think, he will carry this island 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. Gon. Is not, fir, my doublet 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? I ne'er again fhall fee her. O thou mine heir • miraculous barp]-Amphion's. f against the ftomach of my fenfe :]—to my utter disguft. rate,eftimation, opinion. Of Naples and of Milan, what strange fish h Fran. Sir, he may live; I faw him beat the furges under him, And ride upon their backs; he trod the water, He came alive to land. Alon. No, no, he's gone. Seb. Sir, you may thank yourself for this That would not blefs our Europe with your daughter, But rather loofe her to an African; Where the, at least, is banifh'd from your eye, Who hath caufe to wet the grief on't. Alon. Pr'ythee, peace. Seb. You were kneel'd to, and importun'd otherwise By all of us; and the fair foul herself k * Weigh'd between lothnefs and obedience, at I fear, for ever: Milan and Naples have Alon. So is the deareft o' the lofs. Gon. My lord Sebastian, The truth you speak doth lack fome gentleness, your fon, And And time to speak it in: you rub the fore, Seb. Very well. Ant. And moft chirurgeonly. Gon. It is foul weather in us all, good fir, When you are cloudy. Seb. Foul weather? Ant. Very foul. Gon. Had I the plantation of this ifle, my lord,- Seb. Or docks, or mallows. Gon. And were the king of it, What would I do? No occupation; all men idle, all, And women too, but innocent and pure. No fovereignty. 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 Bourn,]-Limit, meer. n tilth,]-culture. P foizon,]-plenty. Seb. Seb. No marrying 'mong his fubjects? Ant. None, man: all idle; whores, and knaves. Gon. I would with fuch perfection govern, fir, To excel the golden age. Seb. 'Save his majesty! Ant. Long live Gonzalo ! Gon. And, do you mark me, fir? Alon. Pr'ythee, no more; thou doft talk nothing to me. Gon. I do well believe your highness; and did it to minifter occafion to thefe gentlemen, who are of fuch fenfible 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 ftill. 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 out of her fphere, if she would continue in it five weeks without changing. Enter Ariel, playing folemn mufick. Seb. We would fo, and then go a bat-fowling. Gon. No, I warrant you; I will not adventure my dif cretion fo weakly. Will you laugh me afleep, for I am very heavy? Ant. Go, fleep, and hear us. [Gonz. Adr. Fra. &c. fleep. Alon. What, all fo foon afleep! I wish mine eyes Would, with themselves, fhut up my thoughts: I find, They are inclined to do fo. Seb. Please you, fir, Do not omit the heavy offer of it: metal. It feldom vifits forrow; when it doth, It is a comforter. Ant. We two, my lord, Will guard your perfon, while you take your reft, Alon. Thank you: Wond'rous heavy [All fleep but Seb. and Ant. Seb. What a strange drowsiness poffeffes them? Seb. Why Doth it not then our eye-lids fink? I find not Ant. Nor I; my spirits are nimble. They fell together all, as by confent; They dropp'd as by a thunder ftroke. What might, What thou should'ft be: the occafion 'fpeaks thee; and Dropping upon thy head. Seb. What, art thou waking? It is a fleepy language; and thou fpeak'st Out of thy fleep: What is it thou didst say? This is a strange 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 Whiles thou art waking. Seb. Thou doft fnore diftinctly; There's meaning in thy fnores. Speaks thee]-fuggefts, points it out to thee. VOL. I. |