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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'th' moon's too slow) ’till new-born chins
Be rough and razorable; the, from whom
We were sea-swallow'd : tho' some, caft again,
And by that destiny, to perform an act,
Whereof, what's past is prologue; what to come,
Is yours and my discharge

SEB. What stuff is this ? how say you?
'Tis true, my brother's daughter's queen of Tunis,
So is the heir of Naples ; 'twixt which regions
There is some space.

ANT. A space, whose ev'ry cubit
Seems to cry out, how shall that Claribel
Measure us back to Naples ? sleep in Tunis,
And let Sebastian wake. Say, this were death
That now hath seiz'd them, why, they we no worse
Than now they are: there be, that can rule Naples,
As well as he that neeps ; 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 Neep was this

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.

For

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ANT. True : And, look, how well my garments fit 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 'twere a kybe, 'twould put me to my slipper : But I feel not this deity in my bofom. Ten confciences, that stand 'twixt me and Milan, Candy'd be they, and melt, ere they moleft! Here lies your brother No better than the earth he lies upon, If he were that which now he's like, that's dead; Whom I with this obedient iteel, three inches of it, Can lay to bed for ever : you doing thus, To the perpetual wink for ay might put This antient morsel, this Sir Prudence, who Should not upbraid our course. For all the reft, They'll take fuggestion, 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

Enter Ariel, with musick and song,
Ari. My master through his art forsees the danger,
That
you,

his friend, 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 lye,
Open-ey'd conspiracy

His time doth take :
If of life you keep a care,
Shake off sumber 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 drawn? Wherefore this ghastly looking ?

Gon. What's the matter?

Seb. While we stood here securing your repose,
Ev'n now we heard a hollow burst of bellowing
Like bulls, or rather lions; did't not wake you?
It strook mine ear most terribly.

ALON. I heard nothing.

Ant. 0, '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?

[To Gonzale.
Gon. Upon my honour, Sir, I heard a humming,
And that a strange one too, which did awake me.
I shak'd you, Sir, and cry'd; as mine eyes opend
I saw their weapons drawn :-

:~there was a noise, That's verity. 'Tis best we stand on guard;

Or that we quit this place : let's draw our weapons.

ALON. Lead off this ground, and let's make further search For my poor Ton.

Got Heavens keep him from these beafts!
For he is, fire, i'th' ifand.
ALON. Lead away

& away.
Arr. Profpero näy Ford shall know what I have done.
So, king, go fafely on to feek thy foo

(Exeunt.

SCENE II.

Changes to another part of the island.

Enter Caliban with a burden of wood; a noise of thunder

heard.
CAL. AH the infections, that the sun sucks up
From Bogs, fens, flats, ön Prosper fall, and make him
By inch-meal a disease ! his fpirits hear me,
And yet I needs must curse. But they'll not pinch,
Fright me with urchin shews, pitch me i'th' mire,
Nor lead me, like a fire-Brand, in the dark
Out of my way, ünless he bid 'ém; but
For every trifle are they set upon me.
Sometimes like apes, that moe and chatter at me,
And aster, bite mé; then like hedge-hogs, which
Lye tumbling in my hare-foot way, and mount
Their pricks at my foot-fall; sometime am I

wound with adders, who with cloven tongues Do hiss me into madness. Lo! now! lo!

Enter Trinculo.
Here comes a sp'rit of his, and to torment me
For bringing wood-in dowly. I'll fall Aat;
Perchance, he will not mind me.

Trin. Here's neither bush nor shrub to bear off any weather at all, and another storm brewing; I hear it sing i'th' wind: yond same black cloud, yond huge one,

looks like a foul bumbard that would shed his liquor. If it should thunder as it did before, I know not where to hide

my

head: yond fame cloud cannot choose but fall by pailfuls. What have we here, a man or a filh; dead or alive? a filh; he smells like a fish: a very ancient, and fifh-like fmell.

A kind of, not of the newest, Poor John: a strange fish ! Were I in England now, as once I was, and had but this fish painted, not a holiday fool there but would give a piece of Glver. There would this monster make a man; any strange beast there makes a man; when they will not give a doit to relieve a lame beggar, they will lay out ten to fee a dead Indian. Legg'd like a man! and his fins like arms! warm, o'my troth! I do now let doofe my opinion, hold it no longer, this is no fith, but an islander that hath fately fuffer'd by a thunder-bolt. Alas! the storm is come again. My best way is to creep under his gaberdine; there is no other shelter hereabout; mifery acquaints a man with strange bed-fellows: I will here fhrowd, 'till the dregs of the storm be past.

Enter Stephano, singing. Stk. I shall no more to sea, to sea, here shall I die a-shore.

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