No ufe of metal, corn, or wine, or oyl;
No occupation, all men idle, all,

And women too; but innocent and pure
No Sov'reignty.

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 fhould produce
Without fweat or endeavour. Treafon, felony,
Sword, pike, knife, gun, or need of any engine
Would I not have; but nature fhould bring forth,
Of its own kind, all † foyzon, all abundance
To feed my innocent people.

Seb. No marrying 'mong his fubjects?

Ant. None, man; all idle; whores and knaves. Gon. I would with fuch perfection govern; Sir, T'excell the golden age.

Seb. Save his Majefty!

Ant. Long live Gonzalo !

Gon. And do you mark me, Sir?

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 metal; you would lift the moon out of her sphere, if fhe would continue in it five weeks without changing.

Seb. We would fo, and then go a bat-fowling.

Ant. Nay, good my lord be not angry.

E 3

Gon

Foyzon, the natural juice or moisture of the

grafs or other herbs.

Gon. No I warrant you, I will not adventure my difcretion fo weakly will you laugh me afleep, for I am very heavy?

Ant. Go fleep, and hear us.

Alon. What all fo foon afleep? I with mine eyes Would with themfelves fhut 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,
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 ftrange drowfinefs possesses them?
Ant. It is the quality o'th' climate.

Seb. Why

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

Ant. Nor I, my fpirits are nimble :

They fell together all as by confent,

They dropt as by a thunder-ftroke. What might,
Worthy Sebaftian---- O, what might

And yet methinks I fee it in thy face,

no more.

What thou fhould'ft be: th'occafion fpeaks thee, and My ftrong 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 speak'ft

Out of thy fleep: what is it thou didst say?

This is a ftrange repofe, to be afleep

With eyes wide open: ftanding, fpeaking, moving;

And yet fo faft afleep.

Ant. Noble Sebaftian,

Thou let'ft thy fortune fleep; die rather: wink'
Whilft thou art waking.

Seb

Seb. Thou doft fnore diftinctly;

There's meaning in thy fnores.

Ant. I am more ferious than my cuffom. You Muft be fo, if you heed me; which to do,

Troubles thee o'er.

Seb. Well I am ftanding water.
Ant. I'll teach you how to flow.
Seb. Do fo: to ebb

Hereditary floth inftructs me.

If

Ant. O!

you

but knew how you the purpofe cherish,
Whilft thus you mock it; how in ftripping it
You more inveft it: ebbing men, indeed,
Moft often do fo near the bottom run,
By their own fear or floth.

Seb. Pr'ythee fay on,

The fetting of thine eye and cheek proclaim
A matter from thee; and a birth, indeed,
Which throes thee much to yield.

Ant. Thus Sir:

Although this lord of weak remembrance; this
Who fhall be of as little memory

When he is earth'd, hath here almoft perfuaded
(For he's a fpirit of perfuafion, only
Profeffes to perfuade) the King his fon's alive;
'Tis as impoffible that he's undrown'd,
As he that fleeps here, fwims.

Seb. I have no hope That he's undrown'd.

Ant. O, out of that no hope,

What great hope have you? no hope that way, is Another way fo high an hope, that even

Ambition cannot pierce a wink beyond,

But doubt difcovery there. Will you grant, with me, That Ferdinand is drown'd?

Seb. He's gone.

Ant. Then tell me

Who's the next heir of Naples?

Seb. Claribel.

Ant. She that is Queen of Tunis; fhe that dwells

Ten leagues beyond man's life; fhe that from Naples
Can have no † Note, unless the fun were poft,
(The man i'th' moon's too flow) 'till new-born chins
Be rough and razorable; fhe a for whom

We were fea-fwallow'd, tho' fome cast again,
May by that deftiny perform an act;

Whereof, what's paft is prologue, what to come
Is yours and my difcharge

Seb. What ftuff is this? how fay you?

'Tis true, my brother's daughter's Queen of Tunis, So is the heir of Naples, 'twixt which regions There is fome space.

Ant. A fpace whofe ev'ry cubit

Seems to cry out, how fhall that Claribel
Measure us back to Naples? Keep in Tunis,

And let Sebaftian wake. Say, this were death

That now hath feiz'd them, why they were no worfe
Than now they are: there be that can rule Naples
As well as he that fleeps; lords can that prate
As amply, and unneceffarily,

As this Gonzalo; I my felf could make
A Chough of as deep chat. O, that you bore
The mind that I do; what a fleep were this
For your advancement! do you understand me?
Seb. Methinks I do.

Ant. And how does your content
Tender your own good fortune?

Seb. I remember

You did fupplant your brother Profpe'ro.
Ant. True:

And look how well my garments fit upon me,
Much feater than before. My brother's fervants
Were then my fellows, now they are my men.
Seb. But for your confcience.

Ant. Ay, Sir; where lyes that?

If 'twere a kybe, 'twould put me to my flipper:
But I feel not this deity in my bofom.

Ten confciences that ftand 'twixt me and Milan,
Candy'd be they, and melt e'er they moleft,

Herè

Here lyes your brother

No better than the earth he lyes upon,

If he were that which now he's like, that's dead;
Whom I with this obedient fteel, three inches of it,
Can lay to bed for ever: you, doing thus,

To the perpetual wink for ay might put
This ancient Morfel, this Sir Prudence, who
Should not upbraid our courfe. For all th re ft,
They'll take fuggeftion, as a cat laps milk;
They'll tell the clock to any business that
We fay befits the hour.

Seb. Thy cafe, dear friend,

Shall be my precedent: as thou got'st Milan,
I'll come by Naples. Draw thy fword, one ftroke
Shall free thee from the tribute which thou pay'ft,
And I the King fhall love thee.

Ant. Draw together:

And when I rear my hand, do you the like
To fall it on Gonzalo.

Seb. But one word.

Enter Ariel with Mufick and Song.

Ari. My mafter through his art forefees the danger That you, his friend, are in; and fends me forth (For elfe his project dies) to keep them living.

[Sings in Gouzalo's Ear,

While you here do fnoaring lye,

Open-ey'd confpiracy.

His time doth take:

If of life you keep a care,

Shake off fumber, and beware..

Awake! awake!

Ant. Then let us both be sudden.

Gon. Now, good angels preferve the King!

Alon. Why how now ho awake?

drawn?

Wherefore this ghaftly looking?

Gon. What's the matter?

ES

[They wake

why are you

Seb