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ones. Antonio Or as ’twere perfumed by a fen. Gonzalo Here is everything advantageous to life. Antonio True; save means to live. Sebastian Of that there’s none, or little. Gonzalo How lush and lusty the grass looks! how green! Antonio The ground indeed is tawny. Sebastian With an eye of green in’t. Antonio He misses not much. Sebastian No; he doth but mistake the truth totally. Gonzalo But the rarity of it is⁠—which is indeed almost beyond credit⁠— Sebastian As many vouched rarities are. Gonzalo That our garments, being, as they were, drenched in the sea, hold notwithstanding their freshness and glosses, being rather new-dyed than stained with salt water. Antonio If but one of his pockets could speak, would it not say he lies? Sebastian Ay, or very falsely pocket up his report Gonzalo 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. Sebastian ’Twas a sweet marriage, and we prosper well in our return. Adrian Tunis was never graced before with such a paragon to their queen. Gonzalo Not since widow Dido’s time. Antonio Widow! a pox o’ that! How came that widow in? widow Dido! Sebastian What if he had said “widower Aenea” too? Good Lord, how you take it! Adrian “Widow Dido” said you? you make me study of that: she was of Carthage, not of Tunis. Gonzalo This Tunis, sir, was Carthage. Adrian Carthage? Gonzalo I assure you, Carthage. Sebastian His word is more than the miraculous harp; he hath raised the wall and houses too. Antonio What impossible matter will he make easy next? Sebastian I think he will carry this island home in his pocket and give it his son for an apple. Antonio And, sowing the kernels of it in the sea, bring forth more islands. Gonzalo Ay. Antonio Why, in good time. Gonzalo 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. Antonio And the rarest that e’er came there. Sebastian Bate, I beseech you, widow Dido. Antonio O, widow Dido! ay, widow Dido. Gonzalo Is not, sir, my doublet as fresh as the first day I wore it? I mean, in a sort. Antonio That sort was well fished for. Gonzalo When I wore it at your daughter’s marriage? Alonso

You cram these words into mine ears against
The stomach of my sense. Would I had never
Married my daughter there! for, coming thence,
My son is lost and, in my rate, she too,
Who is so far from Italy removed
I ne’er again shall see her. O thou mine heir
Of Naples and of Milan, what strange fish
Hath made his meal on thee?

Francisco

Sir, he may live:
I saw him beat the surges under him,
And ride upon their backs; he trod the water,
Whose enmity he flung aside, and breasted
The surge most swoln that met him; his bold head
‘Bove the contentious waves he kept, and oar’d
Himself with his good arms in lusty stroke
To the shore, that o’er his wave-worn basis bow’d,
As stooping to relieve him: I not doubt
He came alive to land.

Alonso No, no, he’s gone. Sebastian

Sir, you may thank yourself for this great loss,
That would not bless our Europe with your daughter,
But rather lose her to an African;
Where she at least is banish’d from your eye,
Who hath cause to wet the grief on’t.

Alonso Prithee, peace. Sebastian

You were kneel’d to and importuned otherwise
By all of us, and the fair soul herself
Weigh’d between loathness and obedience, at
Which end o’ the beam should bow. We have lost your son,
I fear, for ever: Milan and Naples have
More widows in them of this business’ making
Than we bring men to comfort them:
The fault’s your own.

Alonso So is the dear’st o’ the loss. Gonzalo

My lord Sebastian,
The truth you speak doth lack some gentleness
And time to speak it in: you rub the sore,
When you should bring the plaster.

Sebastian Very well. Antonio And most chirurgeonly. Gonzalo

It is foul weather in us all, good sir,
When you are cloudy.

Sebastian Foul weather? Antonio Very foul. Gonzalo Had I plantation of this isle, my lord⁠— Antonio He’d sow’t with nettle-seed. Sebastian Or docks, or mallows. Gonzalo And were the king on’t, what would I do? Sebastian ’Scape being drunk for want of wine. Gonzalo

I’ the commonwealth I would by contraries
Execute all things; for no kind of traffic
Would I admit; no name of magistrate;
Letters should not be known; riches, poverty,
And use of service, none; contract, succession,
Bourn, bound of land, tilth, vineyard, none;
No use of metal, corn, or wine, or oil;
No occupation; all men idle, all;
And women too, but innocent and pure;
No sovereignty;⁠—

Sebastian Yet he would be king on’t. Antonio The latter end of his commonwealth forgets the beginning. Gonzalo

All things in common nature should produce
Without sweat or endeavour: treason, felony,
Sword, pike, knife, gun, or need of any engine,
Would I not have; but nature should bring forth,
Of its own kind, all foison, all abundance,
To feed my innocent people.

Sebastian No marrying ’mong his subjects? Antonio None, man; all idle: whores and knaves. Gonzalo

I would with such perfection govern, sir,
To excel the golden age.

Sebastian God save his majesty! Antonio Long live Gonzalo! Gonzalo And⁠—do you mark me, sir? Alonso Prithee, no more: thou dost talk nothing to me. Gonzalo 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. Antonio ’Twas you we laughed at. Gonzalo Who in this kind of merry fooling am nothing to you: so you may continue and laugh at nothing still. Antonio What a blow was there given! Sebastian An it had not fallen flat-long. Gonzalo You are gentlemen of brave metal; 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. Sebastian We would so, and then go a bat-fowling. Antonio Nay, good my lord, be not angry. Gonzalo No, I warrant you; I will not adventure my discretion so weakly. Will you laugh me asleep, for I am very heavy? Antonio Go sleep, and hear us. All sleep except Alonso, Sebastian, and Antonio. Alonso

What, all so

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