Gon. Is not, sir, my doublet as fresh as the first day I wore it? I mean, in a sort.1

Ant. That sort was well fished for.

Gon. When I wore it at your daughter's marriage? Alon. You cram these words into mine

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?

Fran.

may

Sir, he 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

ears

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.

Alan.

No, no, he's gone.

Seb. Sir, you may thank yourself for this great

loss;

That would not bless our Europe with your daughter,

1 Degree or quality.

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 importuned other wise

By all of us; and the fair soul herself

Weigh'd, between loathness and obedience, at
Which end o' the beam she'd bow.1

your son,

We have lost

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.

Ant. And most chirurgeonly.

Very well.

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

Seb.

Ant.

Foul weather?

Very foul.

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

1 Whether she should yield to duty or inclination.

Seb.

Or docks, or mallows.
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; 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. Yet he would be king on 't.

Ant. The latter end of his commonwealth forgets the beginning.

Gon. All things in common nature should prɔ-
duce

Without sweat or endeavor: treason, felony,
Sword, pike, knife, gun, or need of any engine,1
Would I not have; but nature should bring forth,
Of its own kind, all foizon,2 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 laughed 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.1 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 Woul1, with themselves, shut up my thoughts: I find

1 Bird-catching in the night time.

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,

Seb. What a strange drowsiness possesses them! Ant. It is the quality o' the climate.

Seb.

Why

Doth it not then our eyelids sink? I find not

Myself disposed 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 1 speaks thee;

and

My strong imagination sees a crown

Dropping upon thy head.

Seb.

What, art thou waking?

I do; and, surely

Ant. Do you not hear me speak?

Seb.

It is a sleepy language, and thou speak'st

Out of thy sleep. What is it thou didst say?

1 Opportunity.