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. I ne'er again shall see her: O thou mine heir 8 The name of a widow brings to their minds their own fhipwreck, which they confider as VOL. I. having made many widows in 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, The furge molt fwoln that met him: his bold head 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, 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, 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? And women too; but innocent and pure: 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. 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. 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 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 Seb. What, art thou waking? It is a fleepy language; and thou speak'it 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, Seb. Well: I am ftanding wa'er. Hereditary floth instructs me. You If you but knew, how you the purpose cherish, Most often do fo near the bottom run, By their own fear or floth. Seb. Pr'ythee, fay on; D 3 The |