Ant. That sort was well fished for. Gon. When I wore it at your daughter's marriage? I ne'er again shall see her. O thou mine heir Fran. Sir, he may live; The surge most swoln that met him: his bold head To the shore, that o'er his wave-worn basis bowed, He came alive to land. Alon. No, no, he's gone. Seb. Sir, you may thank yourself for this great loss: Where she, at least, is banished from your eye, Alon. Seb. Pr'ythee, peace. You were kneeled to, and importuned otherwise By all of us; and the fair soul herself Weighed, between loathness and obedience, at Which end o' the beam she'd bow. We have lost your son, I fear, forever; Milan and Naples have More widows in them of this business' making, Than We bring men to comfort them: the fault's Your Own. Alon. So is the dearest of the loss. Gon. The truth you speak doth lack some gentleness, When Seb. you should bring the plaster. Ant. And most chirurgeonly. My lord Sebastian, Very well. Gon. It is foul weather in us all, good sir, When you are cloudy. Seb. Ant. Foul weather? Very foul. с Gon. Had I a plantation of this isle, my lord,- Seb. And women too; but innocent and pure: 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 Sword, pike, knife, gun, or need of any engine, To feed my innocent people. Seb. No marrying among his subjects? Ant. None, man; all idle; whores, and knaves. Gon. I would with such perfection govern, sir, To excel the golden age. Seb. Ant. Long live Gonzalo! 'Save his majesty! And, do you mark me, sir-? Alon. Pr'ythee, no more: thou dost talk nothing to me. Gon. I do well believe your highness; and did it to minister occasion to these gentlemen, who are of such sensible and nimble lungs, that they always use to laugh at nothing. Ant. 'Twas you we laughed at. 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. An it had not fallen flat-long. Gon. You are gentlemen of brave mettle: you would lift the moon out of her sphere, if she would continue in it five weeks without changing. Enter ARIEL, invisible, playing solemn music. Seb. We would so, and then go bat-fowling. ACT II.] THE TEMPEST. Ant. Nay, good my lord, be not angry. 39 Gon. No, I warrant you; I will not adventure my discretion so weakly. Will you laugh me asleep, for I am very heavy? Ant. Go sleep, and hear us. [All sleep but ALON. SEB. and Ant. Please you, sir, Ant. We two, my lord, Will guard your person, while you take your rest, And watch your safety. Alon. Thank you: Wondrous heavy. Seb. What a strange drowsiness possesses them! Seb. Why Doth it not then our eye-lids sink? I find not Ant. Nor I; my spirits are nimble. They fell together all, as by consent; What might, Worthy Sebastian?-0, what might ?—No more ;- What thou should'st be: the occasion speaks thee; and Dropping upon thy head. Seb. Ant. Seb. It is What, art thou waking? Do you not hear me speak? I do; and, surely, sleepy language; and thou speak'st Out of thy sleep: What is it thou didst say? This is With a strange repose, to be asleep eyes wide open; standing, speaking, moving, And yet so fast asleep. Ant. Thou let'st thy fortune sleep—die rather; wink'st Whiles thou art waking. Seb. Noble Sebastian, Thou dost snore distinctly; There's meaning in thy snores. Ant. I am more serious than my custom: you Must be so too, if heed me; which to do, Trebles thee o'er. Seb. Well; I am standing water. Hereditary sloth instructs me. Ant. Do so to ebb, 0, If you but knew how you the purpose cherish, By their own fear, or sloth. Seb. Pr'ythee, say on: The setting 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 shall be of as little memory, When he is earthed,) hath here almost persuaded (For he's a spirit of persuasion, only Professes to persuade) the king, his son's alive; 'Tis as impossible that he's undrowned, As he that sleeps here, swims. Seb. That he's undrowned. Ant. I have no hope O, out of that no hope What great hope have you! no hope, that way, is But doubts discovery there. Will you grant, with me, Seb. He's gone. Then tell me, Claribel. Who's the next heir of Naples? Seb. Ant. She that is queen of Tunis; she that dwells Ten leagues beyond man's life; she that from Naples Can have no note, unless the sun were post, (The man i' the moon's too slow,) till new-born chins We all were sea-swallowed, though some cast again; Seb. What stuff is this?-How say you? 'Tis true, my brother's daughter's queen of Tunis; There is some space. Ant. A space whose every cubit Measure us back to Naples?-Keep in Tunis, That now hath seized them; why they were no worse As this Gonzalo; I myself could make A chough of as deep chat. O, that you bore Ant. And how does your content Tender your own good fortune? Seb. I remember, You did supplant your brother Prospero. Ant. True: And, look, how well my garments sit upon me; Ant. "Twould Ay, sir; where lies that? if it were a kybe, put me to my slipper; but I feel not This deity in my bosom: twenty consciences, Can lay To the If he were that which now he's like, that's dead; Whom I, with this obedient steel, three inches of it, to bed forever: whiles you, doing thus, Perpetual wink for aye might put This ancient morsel, this sir Prudence, who Should not upbraid our course. For all the rest, They'll take suggestion, as a cat laps milk; They'll tell the clock to any business that We say Seb befits the hour. Thy case, dear friend, Shall be my precedent; as thou got'st Milan, Ant. C* Draw together: |