Alon. You cram these words into mine eares, against the stomacke of my sense: would I had never Married my daughter there: For comming thence My sonne is lost, and (in my rate1) she too, Who is so farre from Italy removed, 1judgment I ne're againe shall see her: O thou mine heire Of Naples and of Millaine, what strange fish Hath made his meale on thee?

Fran. Sir he may live,

I saw him beate the surges under him,

And ride upon their backes; he trod the water
Whose enmity he flung aside: and brested
The surge most swolne that met him: his bold head
'Bove the contentious waves he kept. and oared
Himselfe with his good armes in lusty stroke
To th'shore; that ore his wave-worne basis bowed
As stooping to releeve him: I not doubt

He came alive to Land.

Alon. No, no, hee's gone.

Seb. Sir you may thank your

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selfe for this great losse,

That would not blesse our Europe with your daughter, But rather loose her to an Affrican,

Where she at least, is banish'd from your eye,

Who hath cause to wet the greefe on't.

Alon. Pre-thee peace.

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Seb. You were kneel'd too, & importun'd otherwise
By all of us: and the faire soule her selfe
Waigh'd betweene loathnesse, and obedience, at
Which end o'th'beame should bow: we have lost
son,

I feare for ever: Millaine and Naples have
Mo widdowes in them of this businesse making,
Then we bring men to comfort them:

The faults your owne.

your

Alon. So is the deer'st oth'losse.

Gon. My Lord Sebastian,

The truth you speake doth lacke some gentlenesse,
And time to speake it in: you rub the sore,
When you should bring the plaister.

Seb. Very well.

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Ant. And most Chirurgeonly.

Gon. It is foule weather in us all, good Sir,

When you are cloudy.

Seb. Fowle weather?

Ant. Very foule.

Gon. Had I plantation1 of this Isle my Lord.
Ant. Hee'd sow't with Nettle-seed. 1 colonization
Seb. Or dockes, or Mallowes.

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Gon. And were the King on't, what would I do? Seb. Scape being drunke, for want of Wine. Gon. I'th' Commonwealth I would (by contraries) Execute all things: For no kinde of Trafficke Would I admit: No name of Magistrate: Letters should not be knowne: Riches, poverty, And use of service, none: Contract, Succession, Borne, bound of Land, Tilth,2 Vineyard none: No use of Mettall, Corne, or Wine, or Oyle: No occupation, all men idle, all:

2 tillage 160 And Women too, but innocent and pure:

No Sovereignty.

Seb. Yet he would be King on't.

Ant. The latter end of his Common-wealth forgets the beginning. 3 war-machine

plenty Gon. All things in common Nature should produce Without sweat or endevour: Treason, fellony, Sword, Pike, Knife, Gun, or neede of any Engine3 Would I not have: but Nature should bring forth Of it owne kinde, all foyzon,4 all abundance

144. new 1. at Ant.-RowE.

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147. new 1. at Ant.-RowE.

To feed my innocent people.

Seb. No marrying 'mong his subjects?

Ant. None (man) all idle; Whores and knaves, Gon. I would with such perfection governe Sir: T'Excell the Golden Age.

Seb. 'Save his Majesty.

Ant. Long live Gonzalo. Gon. And do you marke me, Sir?

Alon. Pre-thee no more: thou dost talke nothing to me. |

Gon. I do well beleeve your Highnesse, and did it to minister occasion to these Gentlemen, who are of such sensible and nimble Lungs, that they alwayes use to laugh at nothing.

Ant. 'Twas you we laugh'd at.

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Gon. Who, in this kind of merry fooling am nothing to you: so you may continue, and laugh at nothing still. Ant. What a blow was there given?

Seb. And it had not falne flat-long.

Gon. You are Gentlemen of brave mettal: you would lift the Moone out of her spheare, if she would continue in it five weekes without changing.

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Enter Ariell [invisible] playing solemne Musicke. Seb. We would so, and then go a Bat-fowling. Ant. Nay good my Lord, be not angry.

Gon. No I warrant you, I will not adventure my discretion so weakly: Will you laugh me asleepe, for I am very heavy.

Ant. Go sleepe, and heare us.

[All sleep except Alon., Seb., and Ant.]

Alon. What, all so soone asleepe? I wish mine eyes

176. 'Save: God save-HUDSON.

187. And: An-POPE.

176. new 1. at Ant.-Rowe.

Would (with themselves) shut up my thoughts,

I finde they are inclin❜d to do so.

Seb. Please you Sir,

Do not omit the heavy offer of it:

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It sildome visits sorrow, when it doth, it is a Comforter.
Ant. We two my Lord, will guard your person,
While you take your rest, and watch your safety.
Alon. Thanke you: Wondrous heavy.

[Alonzo sleeps. Exit Ariel.]

Seb. What a strange drowsines

possesses them?

Ant. It is the quality o'th' Clymate.

Seb. Why

Doth it not then our eye-lids sinke? I finde

Not my selfe dispos'd to sleep.

Ant. Nor I, my spirits are nimble:

They fell together all, as by consent

They dropt, as by a Thunder-stroke: what might
Worthy Sebastian? O, what might? no more:

And yet, me thinkes I see it in thy face,

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What thou should'st be: th'occasion speaks thee, and My strong imagination see's a Crowne

Dropping upon thy head.

Seb. What? art thou waking?

Ant. Do you not heare me speake?

Seb. I do, and surely

It is a sleepy Language; and thou speak'st

Out of thy sleepe: What is it thou didst say?
This is a strange repose, to be asleepe

With eyes wide open: standing, speaking, moving:

And yet so fast asleepe.

Ant. Noble Sebastian,

Thou let'st thy fortune sleepe: die rather: wink'st

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199-206. 7 five-accent 11. ending find, sir, it, doth, lord, rest, heavy-POPE.

Whiles thou art waking.

230.

Seb. Thou do'st snore distinctly,

There's meaning in thy snores.

Ant. I am more serious then my custome: you

Must be so too, if heed me: which to do,

Trebbles thee o're.

Seb. Well: I am standing water.

Ant. Ile teach you how to flow.
Seb. Do so: to ebbe

Hereditary Sloth instructs me.

Ant. O!

If you but knew how you the purpose

cherish

Whiles thus you mocke it: how in stripping it
You more invest it: ebbing men, indeed
(Most often) do so neere the bottome run
By their owne feare, or sloth.

Seb. 'Pre-thee say on,

The setting of thine eye, and cheeke proclaime
A matter from thee; and a birth, indeed,
Which throwes thee much to yeeld.

Ant. Thus Sir:

Although this Lord of weake remembrance; this
Who shall be of as little memory

When he is earth'd, hath here almost perswaded

(For hee's a Spirit of perswasion, onely

Professes to perswade) the King his sonne's alive, 'Tis as impossible that hee's undrown'd,

As he that sleepes heere, swims.

Seb. I have no hope

That hee's undrown'd.

Ant. O, out of that no hope,

What great hope have you? No hope that way, Is

249. throwes: throes-POPE.

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