SCENE I. Another Part of the Island.

Enter

Ant. He misses not much.

Seb. No; he doth but mistake the truth totally. Gon. But the rarity of it is (which is indeed almost beyond credit)-

Seb. As many vouch'd rarities are.

Gon. That our garments, being, as they were, drenched in the sea, hold, notwithstanding, their freshness, and glosses; being rather new dy'd than stain'd with salt water.

Ant. If but one of his pockets could speak, would it not say, he lies?

Seb. Ay, or very falsely pocket up his report. Gon. Methinks, our garments are now as fresh

Gon. 'Beseech you, sir, be merry: you have

Seb. "Twas a sweet marriage, and we prosper well in our return.

Adr. Tunis was never graced before with such a paragon to their queen.

Gon. Not since widow Dido's time.

Ant. Widow? a pox o' that! How came that widow in? Widow Dido!

Seb. What if he had said widower Eneas too? good lord, how you take it!

Adr. Widow Dido, said you? you make me study of that she was of Carthage, not of Tunis. Gon. This Tunis, sir, was Carthage. Adr. Carthage ?

Gon. I assure you, Carthage.

Ant. His word is more than the miraculous harp.
Seb. He hath rais'd the wall, and houses too.
Ant. What impossible matter will he make easy

Comes to the entertainer-

Gon. Dolour comes to him, indeed; you have spoken truer than you purposed.

Seb. You have taken it wiselier than I meant you should.

Gon. Therefore, my lord,

Seb. I think he will carry this island home in his pocket, and give it his son for an apple. Ant. And sowing the kernels of it in the sea, bring forth more islands. Gon. Ay?

Ant. Why, in good time.

Alon. I pr'ythee, spare.

Gon. Well, I have: But yet

Seb. He will be talking.

Ant. Which of them, he, or Adrian, for a good

wager, first begins to crow?

Seb. The old cock,

Ant. The cockrel.

Seb. Done: The wager?

Ant. A laughter.

Seb. A match.

Adr. Though this island seem to be desert,—

Seb. Ha, ha, ha!

Ant. So you've pay'd.

Ant. And the rarest that e'er came there.
Seb. 'Bate, I beseech you, widow Dido.
Ant. O, widow Dido; ay, widow Dido.

Gon. Is not, sir, my doublet as fresh as the first

day I wore it? I mean, in a sort.

Ant. That sort was well fish'd for.

Gon. When I wore it at your daughter's mar riage?

Alon. You cram these words into mine ears,

against

Gon. Had I a plantation of this isle, my lord,-
Ant. He'd sow it with nettle-seed.
Seb.
Or docks, or mallows.
Gon. And were the king of it, What would I do?
Seb. 'Scape getting drunk, for want of wine.
Gon. I' the commonwealth I would by contraries
Execute all things: for no kind of traffic3
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.
And yet he would be king on't.
Ant. The latter end of his commmonwealth for-
-gets 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,4
Would I not have; but nature should bring forth,
Of its own kind, all foison, all abundance,
To feed my innocent people.

Seb. No marrying among 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

1 i. e. Deliberated, was in suspense.

2 See note on Twelfth Night, Act v. Sc. 1.

3 See Montaigne's Essays translated by John Florio, fol. 1603, Chap. "Of the Caniballes,"

4 An engine was a term applied to any kind of machine in Shakspeare's age

5 Foison is only another word for plenty or abundance of provision, but chiefly of the fruits of the earth. In a subsequent scene we have

"Earth's increase, and foison plenty."

6 See Montaigne as cited before.

7 Warburton remarks that "all this dialogue is a fine saure on the Utopian Treatise of Government, and the

would lift the moon out of her sphere, if she would continue in it five weeks without changing. T

Enter ARIEL, invisible, playing solemn music. Seb. We would so, and then go bat-fowling. Ant. Nay, good my lord, be not angry. Gor, 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 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. Why

Seb.
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 2-No more;-
And yet, methinks, I see it in thy face,
What thou should'st 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.

Hereditary sloth instructs thee.

Ant.

0,

Do so: to ebb,

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.

impracticable inconsistent schemes therein recom. mended."

S Antonio apparently means to say, "You must be more serious than you usually are, if you would pay attention to my proposals; which attention, if you be stow it, will in the end make you thrice what you are." 9 Sebastian introduces the simile of water. It is taken up by Antonio, who says he will teach his stagnant waters to flow. It has already learned to ebb," says Sebastian. To which Antonio replies-"O, if you but knew how much even that metaphor, which you use in jest, encourages the design which I hint at; how, in stripping it of words of their common meaning, and using them figuratively, you adapt them to your own situation."-Edinburgh Magazine Nov. 1786