Abbildungen der Seite
PDF
EPUB

Ant. Widow, a pox o'that: how came that widow in? widow Dido!

8

Seb. What if he had faid, widower Eneas too? Good lord, how you take it!

Adr. Widow Dido, faid you? you make me ftudy of that: fhe was of Carthage, not of Tunis. Gon. This Tunis, Sir, was Carthage.

Adr. Carthage?

Gon. I affure you, Carthage.

Ant. His word is more than the miraculous harp. Seb. He hath rais'd the wall, and houfes too. Ant. What impoffible matter will he make eafy next? Seb. I think, he will carry this Ifland home in his pocket, and give it his fon for an apple.

Ant. And fowing the kernels of it in the fea, bring forth more islands.

Gon. I

Ant. Why, in good time.

Gen. Sir, we are talking, that our garments feem now as fresh, as when we were at Tunis at the marriage of your daughter, who is now Queen.

Ant. And the rareft that e'er came there. Seb. Bate, I beseech you, widow Dido. Ant. O, widow Dido! ay, widow Dido! Gon. Is not my doublet, Sir, as fresh as the first day I wore it? I mean, in a fort.

Ant. That fort 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 ftomach of my fenfe. Would I had never
Married my daughter there! For, coming thence,
My fon is loft; and, in my rate, she too;
Who is fo far from Italy remov'd,

I ne'er again shall see her: O thou mine heir
Of Naples and of Milan, what strange fish

8 The name of a widow brings to their minds their own fhipwreck, which they confider as VOL. I.

having made many widows in
Naples.
D

Hath

Hath made his meal on thee?

Fran. Sir, he may live.

I faw him beat the furges under him,

And ride upon their backs; he trod the water,
Whofe enmity he flung afide, and breasted

The furge molt fwoln that met him: his bold head
'Bove the contentious waves he kept, and oar'd
Himfelf with his good arms in lufty ftrokes.
To th' fhore that o'er his wave-worn bafis bow'd,
As ftooping 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 blefs our Europe with your daughter, But rather lofe her to an African;

Where fhe, at least, is banifh'd from your eye,
Who hath caufe to wet the grief on't.

Alon. Pr'ythee, peace.

Seb. You were kneel'd to, and importuned otherwise By all of us; and the fair foul herself

Weigh'd between lothnefs and obedience, at

Which end the beam fhould bow. We've loft your fon,

I fear, for ever: Milan and Naples have

More widows in them of this bufinefs' making,

9

Than we bring men to comfort them: "

The fault's your own.

Alon. So is the deareft o'th' lofs.

Gon. My lord Sebastian,

The truth, you fpeak, doth lack fome gentleness,
And time to peak it in: you rub the fore,
When you should bring the plaifter.

Seb. Very well. ·

Ant. And most chirurgeonly.

9 It does not clearly appear whether the King and thefe lords thought the fhip loft. This paffage feems to imply that they were themfelves confident of returning, but imagined part of

the fleet deftroyed. Why, indeed, fhould Sebaftian plot againft his brother in the following Scene unless he knew how to find the kingdom which he was to inherit.

Gon.

Gen. It is foul weather in us all, good Sir,

When you are cloudy.

Seb. Foul weather?

Ant. Very foul.

Gon. Had I the plantation of this ifle, my lord-. Ant. He'd fow't with nettle-feed.

Seb. Or docks, or mallows.

Gon. And were the King on't, what would I do?
Seb. 'Scape being drunk, for want of wine.
Gon. I'th' commonwealth, I would by contraries
Execute all things: for no kind of traffick
Would I admit, no name of magistrate;
Letters fhould not be known; wealth, poverty,
And use of fervice, none; contract, fucceffion,
Bourn, bound of land, tilth, vineyard, none:
No ufe of metal, corn, or wine, or oil;
No occupation, all men idle, all,

And women too; but innocent and pure:
No Sov'reignty.

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 fhould produce, Without fweat or endeavour. Treafon, felony, Sword, pike, knife, gun, or need of any engine, Would not have; but nature fhould bring forth, Of its own kind, all foyzon, all abundance To feed my innocent people.

Seb. No marrying 'mong his fubjects?

A t. None, man; all idle; whores and knaves.
Gon. I would with fuch perfection govern, Sir,
T'excel the golden age.
Seb. Save his Majefty!
Ant. Long live Gonzalo !

The latter end of his commonwealth forgets the beginning ] All this Dialogue is a nne Satire on the Utopian [r.atifes of Govern

D 2

ment, and the impracticable inconfitent Schemes therein recommended. WARBURTON.

Gon.

Gen. And do you mark me, Sir? Alon. Pr'ythee no more; thou doft talk nothing to [me.

Gon. I do well believe your Highness; and did it to minifter occafion to these gentlemen, who are of such fenfible and nimble lungs, that they always ufe to laugh at nothing.

Ant. 'Twas you we laugh'd at.

Gon. Who, in this kind of merry fooling, am nothing to you: fo you may continue, and laugh at nothing ftill.

Ant. What a blow was there given?

Seb. An it had not fallen flat-long.

Gon. You are gentlemen of brave metal; you would lift the moon out of her fphere, if she would continue in it five weeks without changing.

Enter Ariel, playing folemn Mufick.

Seb. We would fo, and then go a bat-fowling.
Ant. Nay, my good lord, be not angry.

Gon. No, I warrant you, I will not adventure my difcretion fo weakly; will you laugh me afleep, for I am very heavy?

Ant. Go, fleep, and hear us,

Alon. What, all fo foon afleep? I wish mine eyes Would with themselves fhut 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 feldom vifits forrow; when it doth,

It is a comforter.

Ant. We two, my lord,

Will guard your perfon, while you take

And watch your fafety.

Ant. Thank you: wond'rous heavy

your reft,

[All fleep but Seb. and Ant.

Seb. What a strange drowsiness poffeffes them?

Ant. It is the quality o' th' climate.

Seb.

Seb. Why

Doth it not then our eye-lids fink? I find not
Myfelf difpos'd to fleep

What might,

Ant. Nor I, my fpirits are nimble : They fell together all as by confent, They dropt as by a thunder-ftroke. Worthy Sebaftian-O, what mightO, what might And yet, methinks, I fee it in thy face,

no more.

What thou fhould'ft be: the occafion fpeaks thee, and
My strong imagination fees a crown
Dropping upon thy head.

Seb. What, art thou waking?
Ant. Do you not hear me fpeak?
Seb. I do; and, furely,

It is a fleepy language; and thou speak'it
Out of thy fleep: what is it thou didst say?

This is a ftrange repofe, to be anleep

With eyes wide open: ftanding, fpeaking, moving;

And yet so faft afleep.

Ant. Noble Sebastian,

Thou let'ft thy fortune fleep; die rather: wink'st,

Whilst thou art waking.

Seb. Thou doft fnore diflinctly;

There's meaning in thy fnores.

Ant. I am more ferious than my custom.

Must be fo too, if heed me; which to do,
Trebles thee o'er.

Seb. Well: I am ftanding wa'er.
Ant. I'll teach you how to flow.
Seb. Do fo: to ebb

Hereditary floth instructs me.
Ant. O!

You

If you but knew, how you the purpose cherish,
Whilft thus you mock it; how, in tripping it,
You more inveft it, ebbing men, indeed,

Most often do fo near the bottom run,

By their own fear or floth.

Seb. Pr'ythee, fay on;

D 3

The

« ZurückWeiter »