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

Ant. What impossible matter will he make easy next?

Seb. I think he will carry this island home in his pocket, and give it his son for an apple.

Ant. And sowing the kernels of it in the sea, bring forth more islands.

Gon. Ay?
Ant. Why, in good time.

Gon. 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.

Ant. And the rarest that e'er came there. .
Seb. ’Bate, I beseech you, widow Dido.
Ant. 0, widow Dido; ay, widow Dido.

Gon. Is not, sir, my doublet as fresh as the first day I wore it? I mean, in a sort 8.

Ant. That sort was well fish'd for.
Gon. When I wore it at your daughter's marriage ?

Alon. 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 removid,
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!
Fran.

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,

8 That is, in a manner or degree. VOL. I.

E

As stooping to relieve him: I not doubt,
He came alive to land.
Alon.

No, no, he's gone.
Seb. 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 has cause to wet the grief on't.
Alon.

Pr’ythee, peace.
Seb. You were kneeld to, and importun'd otherwise
By all of us; and the fair soul herself
Weigh’d9, between loathness and obedience, at
Which end o’the beam she'd 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.

Alon. So is the dearest 10 of the loss.
Gon.

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.
Seb.

Very well. Ant. And most chirurgeonly.

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

Foul weather ?
Ant.

Very foul.
Gon. Had I a plantation of this isle, my lord,
Ant. He'd sow it with nettle-seed.
Seb.

Or docks, or mallows. Gon. And were the king of it, What would I do? Seb. 'Scape getting drunk, for want of wine.

9 i.e. Deliberated, was in suspense. 10 See note on Twelfth Night, Act v. Sc. 1.

Seb.

Gon. I'the commonwealth I would by contraries Execute all things: for no kind of traffick 11 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 :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
Without sweat or endeavour: treason, felony,
Sword, pike, knife, gun, or need of any engine 12,
Would I not have; but nature should bring forth,
Of its own kind, all foison 13, all abundance,
To feed my innocent people.

Seb. No marrying ’mong his subjects ?
Ant. None, man; all idle ; whores, and knaves.

Gon. I would with such perfection govern, sir,
To excel the golden age 14
Seb.

'Save his majesty! Ant. Long live Gonzalo! Gon.

And, do you mark me, sir?Alon. Pr’ythee, no more: thou dost talk nothing 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.

to me.

11 See Montaigne's Essays translated by John Florio, fol. 1603, Chap. “Of the Caniballes.”

12 An engine was a term applied to any kind of machine in Shakspeare's age.

13 Foison is only another word for plenty or abundance of provision, but chiefly of the fruits of the earth. In a subsequent scene we have

“Earth's increase, and foison plenty.” 14 See Montaigne as cited before.

Ant. 'Twas you we laugh'd 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 15.

Enter ARIEL, invisible, playing solemn musick. Seb. We would so, and then go a bat-fowling. Ant. Nay, good my lord, be not angry.

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.
Alon. What, all so soon asleep! I wish mine eyes
Would, with themselves, shut up my thoughts: I find,
They are inclin'd to do so.
Seb.

Please you, sir,
Do not omit the heavy offer of it:
It seldom visits sorrow; when it doth,
It is a comforter.

We two, my lord,
Will guard your person, while you take your rest,
And watch your safety.

Ant.

15 Warburton remarks that “ all this dialogue is a fine satire on the Utopian Treatises of Government, and the impracticable inconsistent schemes therein recommended.”

Alon.

Thank you: Wondrous heavy.

[ALONSO sleeps. Exit ARIEL.
Seb. What a strange drowsiness possesses them!
Ant. It is the quality o' the climate.
Seb.

Why
Doth it not then our eye-lids sink? I find not
Myself dispos’d to sleep.
Ant.

Nor I; my spirits are nimble.
They fell together all, as by consent;
They dropp’d, as by a thunder-stroke. What might
Worthy Sebastian ?-0, what might?-No more;-
And yet, methinks, I see it in thy face,
What thou should'st be: the occasion speaks thee; and
My strong imagination sees a crown
Dropping upon thy head.
Seb.

What, art thou waking ? Ant. Do you not hear me speak?

I do; and, surely, It is a sleepy language; and thou speak'st Out of thy sleep: What is it thou didst say ? This is a strange repose, to be asleep With eyes wide open; standing, speaking, moving, And yet so fast asleep. Ant.

Noble Sebastian, Thou let'st thy fortune sleep-die rather; wink'st Whiles thou art waking. Seb.

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 16.

Seb. , Well; I am standing water.

Seb.

16 Antonio apparently means to say, “ You must be more serious than you usually are, if you would pay attention to my proposals ; which attention, if you bestow it, will in the end make you thrice what you are.”

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