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- Edition: The Tempest
The Tempest (Folio 1, 1623)
- Introduction
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8
 The Tempest.
 877Alon. Thanke you: Wondrous heauy.
 879Ant. It is the quality o'th'Clymate.
 880Seb. Why
 884They fell together all, as by consent
 885They dropt, as by a Thunder-stroke: what might
 886Worthy Sebastian? O, what might? no more:
 887And yet, me thinkes I see it in thy face,
 890Dropping vpon thy head.
 891Seb. What? art thou waking?
 901Whiles thou art waking.
 903There's meaning in thy snores.
 906Trebbles thee o're.
 911Ant. O!
 913Whiles thus you mocke it: how in stripping it
 914You more inuest it: ebbing men, indeed
 916By their owne feare, or sloth.
 918The setting of thine eye, and cheeke proclaime
 919A matter from thee; and a birth, indeed,
 920Which throwes thee much to yeeld.
 921Ant. Thus Sir:
 922Although this Lord of weake remembrance; this
 923Who shall be of as little memory
 927'Tis as impossible that hee's vndrown'd,
 929Seb. I haue no hope
 930That hee's vndrown'd.
 931Ant. O, out of that no hope,
 932What great hope haue you? No hope that way, Is
 933Another way so high a hope, that euen
 934Ambition cannot pierce a winke beyond
 935But doubt discouery there. Will you grant with me
 936That Ferdinand is drown'd.
 937Seb. He's gone.
 938Ant. Then tell me, who's the next heire of Naples?
 939Seb. Claribell.
 941Ten leagues beyond mans life: she that from Naples
 943The Man i'th Moone's too slow, till new-borne chinnes
 944Be rough, and Razor-able: She that from whom
 947Whereof, what's past is Prologue; what to come
 948In yours, and my discharge.
 950'Tis true my brothers daughter's Queene of Tunis,
 951So is she heyre of Naples, 'twixt which Regions
 954Seemes to cry out, how shall that Claribell
 956And let Sebastian wake. Say, this were death
 958Then now they are: There be that can rule Naples
 959As well as he that sleepes: Lords, that can prate
 960As amply, and vnnecessarily
 961As this Gonzallo: I my selfe could make
 962A Chough of as deepe chat: O, that you bore
 963The minde that I do; what a sleepe were this
 964For your aduancement? Do you vnderstand me?
 965Seb. Me thinkes I do.
 966Ant. And how do's your content
 967Tender your owne good fortune?
 968Seb. I remember
 970Ant. True:
 971And looke how well my Garments sit vpon me,
 972Much feater then before: My Brothers seruants
 973Were then my fellowes, now they are my men.
 975Ant. I Sir: where lies that? If 'twere a kybe
 976'Twould put me to my slipper: But I feele not
 978That stand 'twixt me, and Millaine, candied be they,
 979And melt ere they mollest: Heere lies your Brother,
 980No better then the earth he lies vpon,
 981If he were that which now hee's like (that's dead)
 982Whom I with this obedient steele (three inches of it)
 983Can lay to bed for euer: whiles you doing thus,
 984To the perpetuall winke for aye might put
 985This ancient morsell: this Sir Prudence, who
 993Shall free thee from the tribute which thou paiest,
 994And I the King shall loue thee.
 995Ant. Draw together:
 996And when I reare my hand, do you the like
 997To fall it on Gonzalo.
 998Seb. O, but one word.
 999Enter Ariell with Musicke and Song.
 1001That you (his friend) are in, and sends me forth
 1003 Sings in Gonzaloes eare.
If