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  • Title: The Tempest (Folio 1, 1623)
  • Editors: Brent Whitted, Paul Yachnin
  • ISBN: 978-1-55058-370-0

    Copyright Internet Shakespeare Editions. This text may be freely used for educational, non-proift purposes; for all other uses contact the Coordinating Editor.
    Author: William Shakespeare
    Editors: Brent Whitted, Paul Yachnin
    Peer Reviewed

    The Tempest (Folio 1, 1623)

    Gon. Me thinkes our garments are now as fresh as
    when we put them on first in Affricke, at the marriage
    745of the kings faire daughter Claribel to the king of Tunis.
    Seb. 'Twas a sweet marriage, and we prosper well in
    our returne.
    Adri. Tunis was neuer grac'd before with such a Pa-
    ragon to their Queene.
    750Gon. Not since widdow Dido's time.
    Ant. Widow? A pox o'that: how came that Wid-
    dow in? Widdow Dido!
    Seb. What if he had said Widdower Æneas too?
    Good Lord, how you take it?
    755Adri. Widdow Dido said you? You make me study
    of that: She was of Carthage, not of Tunis.
    Gon. This Tunis Sir was Carthage.
    Adri. Carthage? Gon. I assure you Carthage.
    Ant. His word is more then the miraculous Harpe.
    760Seb. He hath rais'd the wall, and houses too.
    Ant. What impossible matter wil he make easy next?
    Seb. I thinke hee will carry this Island home in his
    pocket, and giue it his sonne for an Apple.
    Ant. And sowing the kernels of it in the Sea, bring
    765forth more Islands.
    Gon. I. Ant. Why in good time.
    Gon. Sir, we were talking, that our garments seeme
    now as fresh as when we were at Tunis at the marriage
    of your daughter, who is now Queene.
    770Ant. And the rarest that ere came there.
    Seb. Bate (I beseech you) widdow Dido.
    Ant. O Widdow Dido? I, Widdow Dido.
    Gon. Is not Sir my doublet as fresh as the first day I
    wore it? I meane in a sort.
    775Ant. That sort was well fish'd for.
    Gon. When I wore it at your daughters marriage.
    Alon. You cram these words into mine eares, against
    the stomacke of my sense: would I had neuer
    Married my daughter there: For comming thence
    780My sonne is lost, and (in my rate) she too,
    Who is so farre from Italy remoued,
    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?
    785Fran. Sir he may liue,
    I saw him beate the surges vnder him,
    And ride vpon their backes; he trod the water
    Whose enmity he flung aside: and brested
    The surge most swolne that met him: his bold head
    790'Boue the contentious waues he kept. and oared
    Himselfe with his good armes in lusty stroke
    To th'shore; that ore his waue-worne basis bowed
    As stooping to releeue him: I not doubt
    He came aliue to Land.
    795Alon. No, no, hee's gone.
    Seb. Sir you may thank your 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,
    800Who hath cause to wet the greefe on't.
    Alon. Pre-thee peace.
    Seb. You were kneel'd too, & importun'd otherwise
    By all of vs: and the faire soule her selfe
    Waigh'd betweene loathnesse, and obedience, at
    805Which end o'th'beame should bow: we haue lost your (son,
    I feare for euer: Millaine and Naples haue
    Mo widdowes in them of this businesse making,
    Then we bring men to comfort them:

    The faults your owne.
    810Alon. 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.
    815Seb. Very well. Ant. And most Chirurgeonly.
    Gon. It is foule weather in vs all, good Sir,
    When you are cloudy.
    Seb. Fowle weather? Ant. Very foule.
    Gon. Had I plantation of this Isle my Lord.
    820Ant. Hee'd sow't vvith Nettle-seed.
    Seb. Or dockes, or Mallowes.
    Gon. And were the King on't, what vvould I do?
    Seb. Scape being drunke, for want of Wine.
    Gon. I'th'Commonwealth I vvould (by contraries)
    825Execute all things: For no kinde of Trafficke
    Would I admit: No name of Magistrate:
    Letters should not be knowne: Riches, pouerty,
    And vse of seruice, none: Contract, Succession,
    Borne, bound of Land, Tilth, Vineyard none:
    830No vse of Mettall, Corne, or Wine, or Oyle:
    No occupation, all men idle, all:
    And Women too, but innocent and pure:
    No Soueraignty.
    Seb. Yet he vvould be King on't.
    835Ant. The latter end of his Common-wealth forgets
    the beginning.
    Gon. All things in common Nature should produce
    Without sweat or endeuour: Treason, fellony,
    Sword, Pike, Knife, Gun, or neede of any Engine
    840Would I not haue: but Nature should bring forth
    Of it owne kinde, all foyzon, all abundance
    To feed my innocent people.
    Seb. No marrying 'mong his subiects?
    Ant. None (man) all idle; Whores and knaues,
    845Gon. I vvould vvith such perfection gouerne Sir:
    T'Excell the Golden Age.
    Seb. 'Saue his Maiesty. Ant. Long liue Gonzalo.
    Gon. And do you marke me, Sir?
    Alon. Pre-thee no more: thou dost talke nothing to (me.
    850Gon. I do vvell beleeue your Highnesse, and did it
    to minister occasion to these Gentlemen, who are of
    such sensible and nimble Lungs, that they alwayes vse
    to laugh at nothing.
    Ant. 'Twas you vve laugh'd at.
    855Gon. Who, in this kind of merry fooling am nothing
    to you: so you may continue, and laugh at nothing still.
    Ant. What a blow vvas there giuen?
    Seb. And it had not falne flat-long.
    Gon. You are Gentlemen of braue mettal: you would
    860lift the Moone out of her spheare, if she would continue
    in it fiue weekes vvithout changing.
    Enter Ariell playing solemne Musicke.
    Seb. We vvould so, and then go a Bat-fowling.
    Ant. Nay good my Lord, be not angry.
    865Gon. No I warrant you, I vvill not aduenture my
    discretion so weakly: Will you laugh me asleepe, for I
    am very heauy.
    Ant. Go sleepe, and heare vs.
    Alon. What, all so soone asleepe? I wish mine eyes
    870Would (with themselues) shut vp my thoughts,
    I finde they are inclin'd to do so.
    Seb. Please you Sir,
    Do not omit the heauy offer of it:
    It sildome visits sorrow, when it doth, it is a Comforter.