Is common; every day, fome failor's wife,

The masters of fome merchant, and the merchant,
Have juft our theme of woe: but for the miracle,
(I mean our preservation), few in millions.
Can speak like us: then wifely, good Sir, weigh
Our forrow with our comfort.

Alon. Pr'ythee, peace *.

[Seb. He receives comfort like cold prridge. Ant. The 'vifer will not give o'er fo.

Seb. Look, he's winding up the watch of his wit, by and by it will strike.

Gon. When every grief is entertain'd, that's offer'd; comes to the entertainer

Seb. A dollor.

Gon. Dolour comes to him, indeed; you have spoken truer than you propos'd.

Seb. You have taken it wifelier than I meant you fhould.

Gon. Therefore, my Lord

Ant. Fie, what a spendthrift is he of his tongue ? Alon. I pr'ythee, fpare.

Gon. Well, I have done: but yet

Seb. He will be talking.

Ant. Which of them, he, or Adrian, for a good

wager, first begins to crow?

Seb. The old cock.

Ant. The cockrel.

Seb. Done: the wager?

Ant. A laughter.

Seb. A match.

Adr. Though this ifland feem to be defart-
Seb. Ha, ha, ha;-So, you're paid.

Adr. Uninhabitable, and almost inacceffible.

All this that follows after the words Pr'ythee peace.to the words, You cram ih se words, &c. fems to have been interpolated, (perhaps by the players); the verfes there beginning acain; and all that is between in profe, not only being very impertinent stuff, but most improper and ill placed drollery, in the mouths of unhappy fhipwrecked people. There is more of the fame fort interfperfed in the remaining part of the scene. Pope.

Seb. Yet

Adr. Yet

Ant. He could not mifs't.

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

Ant. Temperance was a delicate wench.

Seb. Ay, and a fubtle, as he most learnedly deliyer'd

Adr. The air breathes upon us here most sweetly.
Seb. As if it had lungs, and rotten ones.

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

Gen. 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 almost beyond credit

Seb. As many vouch'd rarities are.

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

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

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 Afric, at the marriage of the King's fair daughter Claribel to the King of Tunis. Seb. 'Twas a sweet marriage, and we prosper well in our return.

Adr. Tunis was never grace'd before with such 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 Æneas too? Good Lord, how you take it!

Adr.

Adr. Widow Dido, faid you? you make me ftudy of that: the 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 impoffible matter will he make eafy next? Seb. I think he will carry this ifland bome in his pocket, and give it his fon for an apple.

Ant. And fowing the kernels of it in the fea, bring forth more iflands.

Gon. Ay.

Ant. Why, in good time.

Gon. Sir, we were 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. Seb. Bate, I befeech 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 fish'd for.

Gon. When I wore it at your daughter's marriage.]
Alon. You cram thefe words into mine ears against
The ftomach of my fenfe. Would I had never
Married my daughter there! for, coming thence,
My fon is loft; and, in my rate, the 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 ftrange fifh
Hath made his meal on thee?

Fran. Sir, he may live.

I saw him beat the furges under him,

And ride upon their backs; he trode the water;
Whofe enmity he flung afide, and breasted

The furge most swoln that met him: his bold head
'Bove the contentious waves he kept, and oar'd
Himself with his good arms in lufty ftrokes

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

Alor. No, no, he's gone.

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

Where fhe, at least, is banish'd from your eye,
Who hath cause to wet the grief on't.

Alon. Fr'ythee, peace.

Seb. You were kneel'd to, and importun'd otherwise By all of us; and the fair foul herself

Weigh'd between lothness 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 bufinefs' making,

Than we bring men to comfort them :

The fault's your own.

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

Gon. My Lord Sebastian,

The truth, you speak, doth lack fome gentleness,

And time to speak it in: you rub the fore,

When you fhould bring the plaifter.

Seb. Very well.

Ant. And moft 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, my Lord-
Ant. He'd fow't with nettle-feed.

Seb. Or docks, or mallows.

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 traffic "Would I admit; no name of magistrate; "Letters fhould not be known; wealth, poverty, "And use 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 fov'reignty.

Seb. And yet he would be King on't.

Ant.

Ant. The latter end of his commonwealth forgets the beginning.

Gon." All things in common nature should produce, "Without fweat or endeavour. Treafon, felony,

66

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'excel the golden age.

Seb. Save his Majesty!

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-löng.

Gon. You are gentlemen of brave metal; you would lift the moon out of her sphere, if the would continue in it five weeks without changing.

Enter Ariel, playing folemn mufic.

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.

Ant. Go fleep, and hear us.

Alon. What all fo foon afleep? I wish mine eyes Would with themselves fhut up my thoughts: I find, They are inclin'd to do fo.

Seb. Please you, Sir,

Do