Ant. Widow, a pox o'that: how came that widow in? widow Dido ! $ 8 Seb. What if he had said, widower Æneas too? Good lord, how you take it ! Adr. Widow Dido, faid you? you make me study of that: she was of Carthage, not of Tunis. Gon. This Tunis, Sir, 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 impossible matter will he make easy 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. I Ant. Why, in good time. Gon. Sir, we are 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 rareft 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 fish'd for. Gon. When I wore it at your daughter's marriage. The stomach of my sense. Would I had never 8 The name of a widow brings to their minds their own shipwreck, which they confider as VOL. I. having made many widows in Naples. D Hath Hath made his meal on thee? Fran. Sir, he may live. I faw him beat the furges under him, 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 lose her to an African; Where she, at least, is banish'd from your eye, Seb. You were kneel'd to, and importuned otherwise Than we bring men to comfort them: 9 Alon. So is the dearest o'th' lofs. Gon. My lord Sebastian, The truth, you speak, doth lack fome gentleness, Seb. Very well. Ant. And most chirurgeonly. 9 It does not clearly appear whether the King and these lords thought the ship loft. This paffage feems to imply that they were themselves confident of returning, but imagined part of the fleet destroyed. Why, indeed, should Sebastian plot against his brother in the following Scene unless he knew how to find the kingdom which he was to inherit. Gon. Gon. It is foul weather in us all, good Sir, When you are cloudy. Seb. Foul weather ? Ant. Very foul. Gon. Had I the plantation of this ifle, my lordAnt. He'd fow't with nettle-feed. Seb. Or docks, or mallows. Gon. And were the King on't, what would I do? 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. 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 foyzon, all abundance To feed my innocent people. Seb. No marrying 'mong his fubjects? A t. None, man; all idle, whores and knaves. T' excel the golden age. Seb. Save his Majesty! Ant. Long live Gonzalo ! Gon. And do you mark me, Sir? [me. Gon. I do well believe your Highness; and did it to minifter occafion to these gentlemen, who are of fuch sensible and nimble lungs, that they always use to laugh at nothing. Ant. 'Twas you we laugh'd at. Gon. Who, in this kind of merry fooling, am nothing to you: so 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 metal; you would lift the moon out of her sphere, if she would continue in it five weeks without changing. Enter Ariel, playing folemn Musick. 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 difcretion so weakly; will you laugh me asleep, for I am very heavy? Ant. Go, fleep, and hear us, Alon. What, all fo foon asleep? I wish mine eyes Would with themselves shut up my thoughts: I find, They are inclin'd to do so. Seb. Please you, Sir, Do not omit the heavy offer of it: It feldom vifits forrow; when it doth, Ant. We two, my lord, Will guard your person, while you take your rest, Ant. Thank you: wondrous heavy [All Sleep but Seb. and Ant. Seb. What a strange drowsiness possesses them? Ant. It is the quality o' th' climate. Seb. 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 dropt as by a thunder-stroke. What might, Worthy Sebastian-O, what might-no more. And yet, methinks, I see it in thy face, What thou should'st be: the occasion speaks thee, and My strong imagination fees a crown Dropping upon thy head. Seb. What, art thou waking? Ant. Do you not hear me speak ? It is a fleepy language; and thou speak'it Out of thy fleep: what is it thou didst say? This is a strange repose, to be afleep With eyes wide open: standing, speaking, moving; And yet fo fast asleep. Ant. Noble Sebastian, Thou let'st thy fortune sleep; die rather: wink'st, Whilst thou art waking. Seb. Thou dost snore distinctly; There's meaning in thy fnores. Ant. I am more serious than my custom. You Must be so too, if heed me; which to do, Seb. Well: I am standing water. Hereditary floth instructs me. Ant. O! If you but knew, how you the purpose cherish, By their own fear or floth. Seb. Pr'ythee, say on; |