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.
Seb. He hath rais'd the wall, and houses too.

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.
Ant. O, widow Dido; ay, 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?
Alon. You cram these words into mine ears, against
The stomach of my fenfe: 'Would I had never
Marry'd my daughter there! for, coming thence,
My son is loft; and, in my rate, fhe too,
Who is fo far from Italy remov'd,

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
Hath made his meal on thee!

h Fran. Sir, he may live;

I faw him beat the furges under him,

And ride upon their backs; he trod the water,
Whofe enmity he flung afide, and breafted
The furge moft fwoln that met him: his bold head
"Bove the contentious waves he kept, and oar'd
Himself with his good arms in lufty stroke
To the fhore, that o'er his wave-worn bafis bow'd,
As ftooping to relieve him: I not doubt,

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
Which end the beam fhould bow. We have loft

I fear, for ever: Milan and Naples have
More widows in them of this bufinefs' making,
Than we bring men to comfort them: the fault's
Your own.

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,
When you fhould bring the plaister.

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,-
Ant. He'd fow't with nettle-feed.

Seb. Or docks, or mallows.

Gon. And were the king of it, What would I do?
Seb. 'Scape being drunk, for want of wine.
Gon. I' the commonwealth, I would by contraries
Execute all things: for no kind of traffick
Would I admit; no name of magiftrate;
Letters should not be known; riches, poverty,
And ufe of fervice, none; contract, fucceffion,
Bourn, bound of land, "tilth, vineyard, none :
No ufe of metal, corn, or wine, or oil:

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
Without fweat or endeavour: treafon, felony,
Sword, pike, knife, gun, or need of any engine,
Would I not have; but nature should bring forth
Of its own kind, all foizon, all abundance
To feed my innocent people.

Bourn,]-Limit, meer.
vineyard, olive, none.

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.
Ant. Nay, my good lord, be not angry.

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,
And watch your safety.

Alon. Thank you: Wond'rous heavy

[All fleep but Seb. and Ant.

Seb. What a strange drowsiness poffeffes them?
Ant. It is the quality o' the climate.

Seb. Why

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

Ant. Nor I; my spirits are nimble.

They fell together all, as by confent;

They dropp'd as by a thunder ftroke. What might,
Worthy Sebastian ?-O, what might ?-No more :-
And yet, methinks, I fee it in thy face,

What thou should'ft be: the occafion 'fpeaks thee; and
My strong 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 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.