Adr. It must needs be of fubtle, tender, and delicate temperance.

Ant. Temperance was a delicate wench.

Seb. Ay, and a subtle, as he most learnedly deliver'd. Adr. The air breathes upon us here moft sweetly. Seb. As if it had lungs, and rotten ones.

Aut. Or, as 'twere perfum'd by a fen.

Gon. Here is every thing advantageous to life.
Ant. True, fave means to live.

Seb. Of that there's none or little.

Gon. How lush and lufty the grafs looks? how green? Ant. The ground indeed is tawny.

Seb. With an eye

of

green

in't.

Ant. He miffes not much.

Seb. No: he does but mistake the truth totally. Gon. But the rarity of it is, which is indeed almoft beyond credit

Seb. As many voucht rarities are.

Gon. That our garments being (as they were) drench'd in the fea, hold notwithstanding their freshness and gloffes; being rather new dy'd, than ftain'd with falt

water.

Ant. If but one of his pockets could speak, would it not fay, he lies?

Seb. Ay, or very falfely pocket up his report.

Gon. Methinks, our garments are now as fresh as when we put them on first in Africk, at the marriage of the King's fair daughter Claribel to the King of Tunis.

Seb. "Twas a sweet marriage, and we profper well in our return.

Adr. Tunis was never grac'd before with fuch a paragon to their Queen.

Gon. Not fince widow Dido's time.

Ant. Widow? a pox o' that: how came that widow in widow Dido!

Seb. What if he had faid, widower Eneas toɔ?

Good Lord, how you take it!

Adr. Widow Dido, faid you? you make me study of that: fhe was of Carthage, not of Tunis.

Gon. This Tunis, Sir, was Carthage.

VOL. I.

C

Adr.

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. 1 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 my doublet, Sir, as fresh as the first day I wore it? I mean, in a fort.

Ant. That fort was well fifh'd for.

Gon. When I wore it at your daughter's marriage.
Alon. You cram thefe words into mine ears against
The stomach of my fenfe. Would I had never
Married my daughter there! for coming thence,
My fon 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
Of Naples and of Milan, what strange fish
Hath made his meal on thee.

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 breasted

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 strokes

To th' 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.

Seb. Sir, you may thank yourself for this great lofs, That would not blefs our Europe with your daughter, But rather lose her to an African;

Where she, at least, is banish'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 soul herself Weigh'd between loathness and obedience, at

Which end the beam fhould bow. We've loft your fon, I fear, for ever: Milan and Naples have

More widows in them of this búfinefs' making,

Than we bring men to comfort them:

The fault's your own.

Alon. So is the deareft o' th' lofs.

Gon. My Lord Sebaftian,

The truth, you speak, doth lack fome gentleness,
And time to speak it in: you rub the fore,
When you should bring the plaifter.

Seb. Very well.

Ant. And molt chirurgeonly.

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

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

Seb. Or docks, or mallows.

my

Lord

Gon. And were the King on't, what would I do?
Seb. Scape being drunk, for want of wine.

Gon. I' th' commonwealth, I would by contraries
Execute all things: for no kind of traffick
Would I admit; no name of magistrate;
Letters fhould not be known; wealth, poverty,
And use of service, none; contract, fucceffion,
Bourn, bound of land, tilth, vineyard, none;
No use of metal, corn, or wine, or oil;
No occupation, all men idle, all,

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

C 2

Seb.

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 sweat 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 foyzon, all abundance To feed my innocent people.

Seb. No marrying 'mong his fubjects?

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

Seb. Save his Majesty!
Ant. Long live Gonzalo!
Gon. And, do

mark me,
you

Sir?

Alon. Pr'ythee, no more; thou doft talk nothing to me. Gon. I do well believe your Highnefs; 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 and 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 fphere, if she would continue in it five weeks without changing.

Enter Ariel, playing folemn Mufick. (13)

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 fo weakly: will you laugh me afleep, for I am very heavy?

(13) Enter Ariel, playing] This marginal direction I have restor'd from the old folio's; and, furely, 'tis very neceffary, it should be inferted; as it contains a train of inchantment, which accounts for Gonzale, Alonzo, &c. fo fuddenly dropping asleep.

Ant.

Ant. Go, fleep, and hear us.

Alon. What all fo foon afleep? I wish, mine eyes would with themfelves fhut up my thoughts: I find, they are inclin❜d to fo do.

Seb. Please you, Sir,

Do not omit the heavy offer of it:

It seldom 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 fafety.

Alon. Thank you: wond'rous heavy.

All fleep but Seb, and Ant.

Seb. What a ftrange drowfinefs poffeffes them?
Ant. It is the quality o' th' climate.

Seb. Why

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

Ant. Nor I, my spirits are nimble:
They fell together all as by confent,
They dropt as by a thunder-stroke. What might,
Worthy Sebaftian.O, what might
And yet, methinks, I fee it in thy face,

no more.

What thou fhould't 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 hearine fpeak?

Seb. I do? and, furely,

It is a fleepy language; and thou fpeak'it

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'f,

Whilst thou art waking.

Seb. Thou doft fnore distinctly;

There's meaning in thy fnores.

Ant. I am more ferious than my cuftom. You