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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.

Alon. Pr'ythee, peace.

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

Weigh'd, between lothness and obedience, at

Which end o'the beam she'd bow. We have lost your
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 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 chirurge only.

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

Seb. Foul weather?

Ant. Very foul.

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

Seb. Or docks, or mallows.

[son,

Gon. And were the king of it, What would I do?

Seb. 'Scape being drunk, for want of wine.

Gon. 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; no use of service,
Of riches or of poverty; no contracts,

Successions; 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, Would I not have; but nature should bring forth, Of its own kind, all foizon, 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.

Seb. 'Save his majesty!

Ant. Long live Gonzalo!

Gon. And do you mark me, sir?

Alon. Pr'ythee, no more; thou dost talk nothing to me. 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.

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.

Enter ARIEL invisible, playing solemn Music. 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 Alonso, Sebastian, and Antonio. Alon. What, all so soon asleep! I wish mine eyes Would, with themselves, shut up my thoughts: I find, They are inclined 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.

Ant. We two, my lord,

Will guard your person, while you take your rest,

And watch your safety.

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?-O, what might?-No more :And yet, methinks, I see it in thy face,

What thou shouldst 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?
Seb. 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.

Seb. Well; I am standing water.
Ant. I'll teach you how to flow.

Seb. Do so: to ebb,

Hereditary sloth instructs me.
Ant. O,

If you but knew, how you the purpose cherish,
Whiles thus you mock it! how, in stripping it,
You more invest it! Ebbing men, indeed,

Most often do so near the bottom run,
By their own fear, or sloth.

Seb. Pr'ythee, say on:

The setting of thine eye, and cheek, proclaim
A matter from thee; and a birth, indeed,
Which throes thee much to yield.

Ant. Thus, sir:

Although this lord of weak remembrance, this (Who shall be of as little memory,

When he is earth'd) hath here almost persuaded

(For he's a spirit of persuasion only)

The king, his son's alive; 'tis as impossible
That he's undrown'd, as he that sleeps here swims.
Seb. I have no hope

That he's undrown'd.

Ant. O, out of that no hope,

What great hope have you! no hope, that way, is
Another way so high an hope, that even
Ambition cannot pierce a wink beyond,

But doubts discovery there. Will you grant, with me,
That Ferdinand is drown'd?

Seb. He's gone.

Ant. Then, tell me,

Who's the next heir of Naples?

Seb. Claribel.

Ant. She that is queen of Tunis; she that dwells Ten leagues beyond man's life; she that from Naples Can have no note, unless the sun were post

(The man i'the moon's too slow), till new-born chins Be rough and razorable; she, from whom

We were all sea swallow'd, though some cast again;
And, by that, destin'd to perform an act,

Whereof what's past is prologue; what to come,
In yours and my discharge.

Seb. What stuff is this?-How say you?

'Tis true, my brother's daughter's queen of Tunis; So is she heir of Naples: 'twixt which regions There is some space.

Ant. A space whose every cubit

Seems to cry out, How shall that Claribel
Measure us back to Naples?-Keep in Tunis,

And let Sebastian wake!-Say, this were death

That now hath seiz'd them; why, they were no worse Than now they are: There be, that can rule Naples, As well as he that sleeps; lords, that can prate

As amply, and unnecessarily,

As this Gonzalo; I myself could make

A chough of as deep chat. O, that you bore

The mind that I do! what a sleep were this

For your advancement! Do you understand me?
Seb. Methinks, I do.

Ant. And how does your content

Tender your own good fortune?

Seb. I remember,

You did supplant your brother Prospero.
Ant. True:

And, look, how well my garments sit upon me;
Much feater than before: My brother's servants
Were then my fellows, now they are my men.
Seb. But, for your conscience-

Ant. Ay, sir; where lies that? if it were a kibe, "Twould put me to my slipper: But I feel not This deity in my bosom: twenty consciences,

That stand 'twixt me and Milan, candy'd be they,
And melt, ere they molest! Here lies your brother,
No better than the earth he lies upon,

If he were that which now he's like; whom I,
With this obedient steel, three inches of it,
Can lay to bed for ever: whiles you, doing thus,
To the perpetual wink for aye might put
This ancient morsel, this sir Prudence, who
Should not upbraid our course. For all the rest,
They'll take suggestion, as a cat laps milk;
They'll tell the clock to any business that
We say befits the hour.

Seb. Thy case, dear friend,

Shall be my precedent; as thou got'st Milan,

I'll come by Naples. Draw thy sword; one stroke Shall free thee from the tribute which thou pay'st: And I the king shall love thee.

Ant. Draw together:

And when I rear my hand, do you the like.

To fall it on Gonzalo.

Seb. O, but one word.

[They converse apart.

Music. Re-enter ARIEL, invisible.

Ari. My master through his art foresees the danger That these, his friends, are in; and sends me forth (For else his project dies), to keep them living.

[Sings in Gonzalo's ear.

While you here do snoring lie,
Open-ey'd conspiracy

His time doth take:

If of life you keep a care,
Shake off slumber, and beware:

Awake! Awake!

Ant. Then let us both be sudden.

Gon. Now, good angels, preserve the king!

[They wake.

Alon. Why, how now, ho! awake; Why are you Wherefore this ghastly looking?

Gon. What's the matter?

[drawn?

Seb. Whiles we stood here securing your repose, Even now, we heard a hollow burst of bellowing Like bulls, or rather lions; did it not wake you? It struck mine ear most terribly.

Alon. I heard nothing.

Ant. O, 'twas a din to fright a monster's ear; To make an earthquake! sure, it was the roar Of a whole herd of lions.

Alon. Heard you this, Gonzalo?

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