675Gonz. Beseech you Sir, be merry; you haue cause,

676(So haue we all) of ioy; for our escape

677Is much beyond our losse; our hint of woe

678Is common, euery day, some Saylors wife,

679The Masters of some Merchant, and the Merchant

680Haue iust our Theame of woe: But for the miracle,

681(I meane our preseruation) few in millions

682Can speake like vs: then wisely (good Sir) weigh

683Our sorrow, with our comfort.

684Alons. Prethee peace.

685Seb. He receiues comfort like cold porredge.

686Ant. The Visitor will not giue him ore so.

687Seb. Looke, hee's winding vp the watch of his wit,

688By and by it will strike.

689Gon. Sir.

690Seb. One: Tell.

691Gon. When euery greefe is entertaind,

692That's offer'd comes to th'entertainer.

693Seb. A dollor.

694Gon. Dolour comes to him indeed, you haue spoken

695truer then you purpos'd.

696Seb. You haue taken it wiselier then I meant you

697should.

698Gon. Therefore my Lord.

699Ant. Fie, what a spend-thrift is he of his tongue.

700Alon. I pre-thee spare.

701Gon. Well, I haue done: But yet

702Seb. He will be talking.

703Ant. Which, of he, or Adrian, for a good wager,

704First begins to crow?

705Seb. The old Cocke.

706Ant. The Cockrell.

707Seb. Done: The wager?

708Ant. A Laughter.

709Seb. A match.

710Adr. Though this Island seeme to be desert.

711Seb. Ha, ha, ha.

712Ant. So: you'r paid.

713Adr. Vninhabitable, and almost inaccessible.

714Seb. Yet

715Adr. Yet

716Ant. He could not misse't.

717Adr. It must needs be of subtle, tender, and delicate

718temperance.

719Ant. Temperance was a delicate wench.

720Seb. I, and a subtle, as he most learnedly deliuer'd.

721Adr. The ayre breathes vpon vs here most sweetly.

722Seb. As if it had Lungs, and rotten ones.

723Ant. Or, as 'twere perfum'd by a Fen.

724Gon. Heere is euery thing aduantageous to life.

725Ant. True, saue meanes to liue.

726Seb. Of that there's none, or little.

727Gon. How lush and lusty the grasse lookes?

728How greene?

729Ant. The ground indeed is tawny.

730Seb. With an eye of greene in't.

731Ant. He misses not much.

732Seb. No: he doth but mistake the truth totally.

733Gon. But the rariety of it is, which is indeed almost

734beyond credit.

735Seb. As many voucht rarieties are.

736Gon. That our Garments being (as they were) drencht

737in the Sea, hold notwithstanding their freshnesse and

738glosses, being rather new dy'de then stain'd with salte

739water.

740Ant. If but one of his pockets could speake, would

741it not say he lyes?

742Seb. I, or very falsely pocket vp his report.

743Gon. Me thinkes our garments are now as fresh as

744when we put them on first in Affricke, at the marriage

745of the kings faire daughter Claribel to the king of Tunis.

746Seb. 'Twas a sweet marriage, and we prosper well in

747our returne.

748Adri. Tunis was neuer grac'd before with such a Pa-

749ragon to their Queene.

750Gon. Not since widdow Dido's time.

751Ant. Widow? A pox o'that: how came that Wid-

752dow in? Widdow Dido!

753Seb. What if he had said Widdower AEneas too?

754Good Lord, how you take it?

755Adri. Widdow Dido said you? You make me study

756of that: She was of Carthage, not of Tunis.

757Gon. This Tunis Sir was Carthage.

758Adri. Carthage? Gon. I assure you Carthage.

759Ant. His word is more then the miraculous Harpe.

760Seb. He hath rais'd the wall, and houses too.

761Ant. What impossible matter wil he make easy next?

762Seb. I thinke hee will carry this Island home in his

763pocket, and giue it his sonne for an Apple.

764Ant. And sowing the kernels of it in the Sea, bring

765forth more Islands.

766Gon. I. Ant. Why in good time.

767Gon. Sir, we were talking, that our garments seeme

768now as fresh as when we were at Tunis at the marriage

769of your daughter, who is now Queene.

770Ant. And the rarest that ere came there.

771Seb. Bate (I beseech you) widdow Dido.

772Ant. O Widdow Dido? I, Widdow Dido.

773Gon. Is not Sir my doublet as fresh as the first day I

774wore it? I meane in a sort.

775Ant. That sort was well fish'd for.

776Gon. When I wore it at your daughters marriage.

777Alon. You cram these words into mine eares, against

778the stomacke of my sense: would I had neuer

779Married my daughter there: For comming thence

780My sonne is lost, and (in my rate) she too,

781Who is so farre from Italy remoued,

782I ne're againe shall see her: O thou mine heire

783Of Naples and of Millaine, what strange fish

784Hath made his meale on thee?

785Fran. Sir he may liue,

786I saw him beate the surges vnder him,

787And ride vpon their backes; he trod the water

788Whose enmity he flung aside: and brested

789The surge most swolne that met him: his bold head

790'Boue the contentious waues he kept. and oared

791Himselfe with his good armes in lusty stroke

792To th'shore; that ore his waue-worne basis bowed

793As stooping to releeue him: I not doubt

794He came aliue to Land.

795Alon. No, no, hee's gone.

796Seb. Sir you may thank your selfe for this great losse,

797That would not blesse our Europe with your daughter,

798But rather loose her to an Affrican,

799Where she at least, is banish'd from your eye,

800Who hath cause to wet the greefe on't.

801Alon. Pre-thee peace.

802Seb. You were kneel'd too, & importun'd otherwise

803By all of vs: and the faire soule her selfe

804Waigh'd betweene loathnesse, and obedience, at

805Which end o'th'beame should bow: we haue lost your (son,

806I feare for euer: Millaine and Naples haue

807Mo widdowes in them of this businesse making,

808Then we bring men to comfort them:

809The faults your owne.

810Alon. So is the deer'st oth' losse.

811Gon. My Lord Sebastian,

812The truth you speake doth lacke some gentlenesse,

813And time to speake it in: you rub the sore,

814When you should bring the plaister.

815Seb. Very well. Ant. And most Chirurgeonly.

816Gon. It is foule weather in vs all, good Sir,

817When you are cloudy.

818Seb. Fowle weather? Ant. Very foule.

819Gon. Had I plantation of this Isle my Lord.

820Ant. Hee'd sow't with Nettle-seed.

821Seb. Or dockes, or Mallowes.

822Gon. And were the King on't, what would I do?

823Seb. Scape being drunke, for want of Wine.

824Gon. I'th'Commonwealth I would (by contraries)

825Execute all things: For no kinde of Trafficke

826Would I admit: No name of Magistrate:

827Letters should not be knowne: Riches, pouerty,

828And vse of seruice, none: Contract, Succession,

829Borne, bound of Land, Tilth, Vineyard none:

830No vse of Mettall, Corne, or Wine, or Oyle:

831No occupation, all men idle, all:

832And Women too, but innocent and pure:

833No Soueraignty.

834Seb. Yet he would be King on't.

835Ant. The latter end of his Common-wealth forgets

836the beginning.

837Gon. All things in common Nature should produce

838Without sweat or endeuour: Treason, fellony,

839Sword, Pike, Knife, Gun, or neede of any Engine

840Would I not haue: but Nature should bring forth

841Of it owne kinde, all foyzon, all abundance

842To feed my innocent people.

843Seb. No marrying 'mong his subiects?

844Ant. None (man) all idle; Whores and knaues,

845Gon. I would with such perfection gouerne Sir:

846T'Excell the Golden Age.

847Seb. 'Saue his Maiesty. Ant. Long liue Gonzalo.

848Gon. And do you marke me, Sir?

849Alon. Pre-thee no more: thou dost talke nothing to (me.

850Gon. I do well beleeue your Highnesse, and did it

851to minister occasion to these Gentlemen, who are of

852such sensible and nimble Lungs, that they alwayes vse

853to laugh at nothing.

854Ant. 'Twas you we laugh'd at.

855Gon. Who, in this kind of merry fooling am nothing

856to you: so you may continue, and laugh at nothing still.

857Ant. What a blow was there giuen?

858Seb. And it had not falne flat-long.

859Gon. You are Gentlemen of braue mettal: you would

860lift the Moone out of her spheare, if she would continue

861in it fiue weekes without changing.

863Seb. We would so, and then go a Bat-fowling.

864Ant. Nay good my Lord, be not angry.

865Gon. No I warrant you, I will not aduenture my

866discretion so weakly: Will you laugh me asleepe, for I

867am very heauy.

868Ant. Go sleepe, and heare vs.

869Alon. What, all so soone asleepe? I wish mine eyes

870Would (with themselues) shut vp my thoughts,

871I finde they are inclin'd to do so.

872Seb. Please you Sir,

873Do not omit the heauy offer of it:

874It sildome visits sorrow, when it doth, it is a Comforter.

875Ant. We two my Lord, will guard your person,

876While you take your rest, and watch your safety.

877Alon. Thanke you: Wondrous heauy.

878Seb. What a strange drowsines possesses them?

879Ant. It is the quality o'th'Clymate.

880Seb. Why

881Doth it not then our eye-lids sinke? I finde

882Not my selfe dispos'd to sleep.

883Ant. Nor I, my spirits are nimble:

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,

888What thou should'st be: th'occasion speaks thee, and

889My strong imagination see's a Crowne

890Dropping vpon thy head.

891Seb. What? art thou waking?

892Ant. Do you not heare me speake?

893Seb. I do, and surely

894It is a sleepy Language; and thou speak'st

895Out of thy sleepe: What is it thou didst say?

896This is a strange repose, to be asleepe

897With eyes wide open: standing, speaking, mouing:

898And yet so fast asleepe.

899Ant. Noble Sebastian,

900Thou let'st thy fortune sleepe: die rather: wink'st

901Whiles thou art waking.

902Seb. Thou do'st snore distinctly,

903There's meaning in thy snores.

904Ant. I am more serious then my custome: you

905Must be so too, if heed me: which to do,

906Trebbles thee o're.

907Seb. Well: I am standing water.

908Ant. Ile teach you how to flow.

909Seb. Do so: to ebbe

910Hereditary Sloth instructs me.

911Ant. O!

912If you but knew how you the purpose cherish

913Whiles thus you mocke it: how in stripping it

914You more inuest it: ebbing men, indeed

915(Most often) do so neere the bottome run

916By their owne feare, or sloth.

917Seb. 'Pre-thee say on,

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

924When he is earth'd, hath here almost perswaded

925(For hee's a Spirit of perswasion, onely

926Professes to perswade) the King his sonne's aliue,

927'Tis as impossible that hee's vndrown'd,

928As he that sleepes heere, swims.

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.

940Ant. She that is Queene of Tunis: she that dwels

941Ten leagues beyond mans life: she that from Naples

942Can haue no note, vnlesse the Sun were post:

943The Man i'th Moone's too slow, till new-borne chinnes

944Be rough, and Razor-able: She that from whom

945We all were sea-swallow'd, though some cast againe,

946(And by that destiny) to performe an act

947Whereof, what's past is Prologue; what to come

948In yours, and my discharge.

949Seb. What stuffe is this? How say you?

950'Tis true my brothers daughter's Queene of Tunis,

951So is she heyre of Naples, 'twixt which Regions

952There is some space.

953Ant. A space, whose eu'ry cubit

954Seemes to cry out, how shall that Claribell

955Measure vs backe to Naples? keepe in Tunis,

956And let Sebastian wake. Say, this were death

957That now hath seiz'd them, why they were no worse

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

969You did supplant your Brothet Prospero.

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.

974Seb. But for your conscience.

975Ant. I Sir: where lies that? If 'twere a kybe

976'Twould put me to my slipper: But I feele not

977This Deity in my bosome: 'Twentie consciences

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

986Should not vpbraid our course: for all the rest

987They'l take suggestion, as a Cat laps milke,

988They'l tell the clocke, to any businesse that

989We say befits the houre.

990Seb. Thy case, deere Friend

991Shall be my president: As thou got'st Millaine,

992I'le come by Naples: Draw thy sword, one stroke

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.

1000Ariel. My Master through his Art foresees the danger

1001That you (his friend) are in, and sends me forth

1002(For else his proiect dies) to keepe them liuing.

1010Ant. Then let vs both be sodaine.

1011Gon. Now, good Angels preserue the King.

1012Alo. Why how now hoa; awake? why are you drawn?

1013Wherefore this ghastly looking?

1014Gon. What's the matter?

1015Seb. Whiles we stood here securing your repose,

1016(Euen now) we heard a hollow burst of bellowing

1017Like Buls, or rather Lyons, did't not wake you?

1018It strooke mine eare most terribly.

1019Alo. I heard nothing.

1020Ant. O, 'twas a din to fright a Monsters eare;

1021To make an earthquake: sure it was the roare

1022Of a whole heard of Lyons.

1023Alo. Heard you this Gonzalo?

1024Gon. Vpon mine honour, Sir, I heard a humming,

1025(And that a strange one too) which did awake me:

1026I shak'd you Sir, and cride: as mine eyes opend,

1027I saw their weapons drawne: there was a noyse,

1028That's verily: 'tis best we stand vpon our guard;

1029Or that we quit this place: let's draw our weapons.

1030Alo. Lead off this ground & let's make further search

1031For my poore sonne.

1032Gon. Heauens keepe him from these Beasts:

1033For he is sure i'th Island.

1034Alo. Lead away.

1035Ariell. Prospero my Lord, shall know what I haue (done.

1036So (King) goe safely on to seeke thy Son. Exeunt.