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Sub. Sir, you may thank yourself for this great loss, That would not bless our Europe with your daughter, But rather lose her to an Africans Where the, at least, is banish'd from your eye, Who hath cause to wet the grief on't.

llox. Pr'ythee, peace,

Seb. You were kneeld to, and importun'd otherwise By all of us; and the fair foul herself Weigh'd between loáthness and obedience, at Which end the beam should bow. We've lost

your

fon 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 deareft o'th' loís,

Gon. My Lord Sebakiar,
The truth, yoa (peak, doth lack some gentleress,
And time to speak it in: you rub the fore,
When you should bring the pla:fter.

Seb. Very well.
Ant. And most chirurgeonly.

Gon. 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 ille, my Lord
Ant. He'd Tow'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 traflick
Would I admit; no name of magistrate;
Letters should not be known; wealth, 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 sov'reignty.

Seb.

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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 Mould bring forth,
Of its own kind, all foyzon, 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 Yuch perfection govern, Sir,
T'excell the golden age.

Seb. Save his Majesty!
Ant. Long live Gonzalo!
Gon. And, do you mark me, Sir?
Alon. Pr’ythee, no more; thou doft talk nothing to me.

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

2100 Ant. 'Twas you we laugh’d at.

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

Ant. What a blow was there given ?
Seb. An it had not fallen Hat-long.

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

Enter Ariel, playing folemn Mufick. (13)
Seb. We would so, and then go a bat-fowling.
Ant. Nay, my good Lord, be not angry.

Gon. No, I warrant you, I will not adventure my discretion fo weakly: will you laugh me asleep, for I am very heavy ?

(13) Enter Ariel, playing] This marginal dire&tion I have restor'd from the old folio's; and, surely, 'tis very necessary, it should be in. Buried; as it contains a strain of inchantment, which accounts for Gonzalo, Alonzo, &c. fo suddenly dropping asleep.

Ant.

Ent, Go, sleep, and hear us,

Alon. What all so soon aflicep? I wish, mine eyes
Would with themselves shut up my thoughts : I finds
They are inclin'd to fo do.

Seb. Pleate you, Sir,
Do not omit the heavy offer of it:
It seldom visits sorrow; when it doth,
It is a comforter.

Ant. We cwo, my Lord,
Wilt guard your person, while you take your reft,
And watch yoar safety.
Aion. Thank you: wond'rous heavy.-

All sleep but Seb. and Ant.
Seb. What a strange drowsiness possesses them ?
Ant. It is the quality of th’ climate.

Seb. Why
Doth it not then our eye-lids fink? I And not
Myself dispos'd to sleep.

Ant. Nor I, my spirits are nimble :
They fell together all as by confent,
They dropt as by a thunder-Atroke. What might,
Worthy Sebaftiano, what might ---- no more.
And yer, methinks, I see it in thy face,
What thou should't be: th’occasion speaks thee, and
My strong imagination fees 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 fleepy language; and thou speak'st
Out of thy sleep: what is it thou did it say?
This is a ftrange repose, to be asleep
With eyes wide open : standing, speaking, moving;
And yet so fast alleep.

Ant. Noble Sebastian,
Thou let's thy fortune sleep: die rather : wink'it,
Whilft thou art waking.

Seb. Thou doft snore didinctly;
There's meaning in thy snores.
Ant. I am more serious than my custom. You

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Must be so too, if heed me; which to do.
Trebles thee o'er. (14)

Seb. Well: I am ftanding water.
Ant. I'll teach you how to flow.

Scb. Do fo: to ebb.
Hereditary floth instructs me.

Ant. O!
If you but knew, how you the purpole cherith,
whilst thus you mock it ; how, in tripping ir,
You more invest it: cbbing men, indeed,
Most often do so near the bottom run,
By their

own

fear or Noth.
Seb. Pry'thee, fay ons
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 hall be of as little memory,
When he is earth'd ;) hath here almost persuaded
(For he's a spirit of perfuafion, only
Professes to persuade) the King, his son's alive;
'Tis as imposable that he's undrown'd,
As he, that fleeps here, swims.

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(14) Trebles thee o’er.] i. e. makes thee thrice what thou now art. Thus the two first filio's, and all the other impressions of any autho.. sity, that I have seen, exhibit the text : and the phrase is familiar, both to our Poet, and other Stage-writers of his time, Merchant of Venice. Ad 3. Sc 2.

yet for you I would be trebled twenty times myself, K. Ricbard III. AQ 5. Sk. 3.

Why, our battalion trebles that account. So, Pericles, Prince of Tyre;

The boatswain whistles, and the master calls,

And trebies their confusion. And so, Marston in his Sophonijka ;

Think, ev'ry bonour, that doth grace thy sword,

Trebles my love.
Troubles thee o'er-is a foolish reading, which, I believe, 'first got.
birth in Mr. Pope's two editions of our Poet; and, I dare say, will lie
Dupied there in a proper obscurity:

Seb

Seb. I have no hope, That he's undrown'd.

Ant. 0, out of that no hope, What great hope have you ? no hope, that way, is Another way so highan hope, that even Ambition cannot pierce a wink beyond, But doubt discovery. there. Will you, grant, with me, 'Fbat Ferdinand is drown'd?

Seb. He's gone.

Ant. Then tell me
Who's the next heir of Naples?

Seb. Claribel.

Art. She that is Queen of Tunis, ffie that dwells. Ten leagues beyond man's life; the that from Napler Can have no note, anless the fun were poft, (The man i'th' moon's too flow) 'till new-born chins Be rough and razorable; The, from whom (15) We were fea-swallow'd ; tho' some, cast again, May by that destiny perform. an act, Whereof, what's past is prologue; what to come, Is yours and my discharge

Geb. What stuff is this ? how fay yod??? 'Tis true, my brother's daughter's Qucen of Tunis, So is the heir of Naples; 'twixt which regions There is some space.

Art. A space, whofe ev'ry, 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 hach seiz'd them, why, they were no worse Than now they are : there be, that can rule Naplėsă, As well as he that sleeps ; Lords that can prate As amply, and unneceffarily, As this Gonzalo; I myself could make (15)

Sbe, for wbimai We were sea-Swal.ow'd,] Thus Mr. Po, e, wit az-Ittle reason, as authority. All the copies, that I have loen, lead-tron qubom, & And why not from? Were they not shipwreck’d, as is evident above, in their return from her?

Would I had never
Married my daughter there! for coming ibence, &co.

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