Page:Shakespeare - First Folio Faithfully Reproduced, Methuen, 1910.djvu/33

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7
The Tempeſt

Gon.
Me thinkes our garments are now as fresh as when we put them on first in Affricke, at the marriage of the kings faire daughter Claribel to the king of Tunis.

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

Adri.
Turns was neuer grac’d before with such a Paragon to their Queene.

Gon.
Not since widdow Dido’s time.

Ant.
Widow? A pox o’that: how came that Widdow in? Widdow Dido!

Seb.
What if he bad said Widdower Æneas too? Good Lord, how you take it?

Adri.
Widdow Dido said you? You make me study of that: She was of Carthage, not of Tunis.

Gon.
This Tunis Sir was Carthage.

Adri.
Carthage?

Gon.
I assure you Carthage.

Ant.
His word is more then the miraculous Harpe.

Seb.
He hath rais’d the wall, and houses too.

Ant.
What impossible matter wil he make easy next?

Seb.
I thinke hee will carry this Island home in his pocket, and giue it his sonne for an Apple.

Ant.
And sowing the kernels of it in the Sea, bring forth more Islands.

Gon. I.

Ant.
Why in good time.

Gon.
Sir, we were talking, that our garments seeme now as fresh as when we were at Tunis at the marriage of your daughter, who is now Queene.

Ant.
And the rarest-that ere came there.

Seb.
Bate (I beseech you) widdow 'Dido.

Ant.
O Widdow Dido? I, Widdow Dido.

Gon,.
Is not Sir my doublet as fresh as the first day I wore it? I meane in a fort.

Ant.
That sort was well fish’d for.

Gon.
When I wore it at your daughters marriage.

Alon.
You cram these words into mine eares, against the ftomacke of my fense: would I had neuer
Married my daughter there: For comming thence
My sonne is lost, and (in my rate) she too,
Who is so farre from Italy remoued,
I ne’re againe shall see her: O thou mine heire
Of Naples and of Millaine, what strange fish
Hath made his meale on thee?

Fran.
Sir he may liue,
I saw him beate the surges vnder him,
And ride vpon their backes; he trod the water
Whose enmity he flung aside: and brested
The surge most swolne that met him: his bold head
’Boue the contentious waues he kept, and oared
Himfelfe with his good armes in lusty stroke
To th’shore; that ore his waue-worne basis bowed
As stooping to releeue him: I not doubt
He came a liue to Land.

Alon.
No, no, hee’s gone.

Seb.
Sir you may thank your selse for this great losse,
That would not blesse our Europe with your daughter,
But rather loose her to an Affrican,
Where she at least, is banish’d from your eye,
Who hath cause to wet the greefe on’t.

Alon.
Pre-thee peace.

Seb.
You were kneel’d too, & importun’d otherwise
By all of vs: and the faire soule her selse
Waigh’d betweene loathnesse, and obedience, at
Which end o’th’beame should bow: we haue lost your son,
I feare for euer: Millaine and Naples haue
Mo widdowes in them of this businesse making,
Then we bring men to comfort them:
The faults your owne.

Alon.
So is the deer’st oth’losse.

Gon.
My Lord Sebastian,
The truth you speake doth lacke some gentlenesse,
And time to speake it in: you rub the sore,
When you should bring the plaister.

Seb.
Very well.

Ant.
And most Chirurgeonly.

Gon.
It is foule weather in vs all, good Sir,
When you are cloudy.

Seb.
Fowle weather?

Ant. Very foule.

Gon.
Had I plantation of this Isle my Lord.

Ant.
Hee’d sow’t with Nettle-seed.

Seb.
Or dockcs, or Mallowes.

Gon.
And were the King on’t, what would I do?

Seb.
Scape being drunke, for want of Wine.

Gon.
I’th’Commonwealth I would (by contraries)
Execute all things: For no kinde of Trafficke
Would I admit: No name of Magistrate:
Letters should not be knowne: Riches, pouerty,
And vse of seruice, none: Contract, Succession,
Borne, bound of Land, Tilth, Vineyard none:
No vse of Mettall, Corne, or Wine, or Oyle:
No occupation, all men idle, all:
And Women too, but innocent and pure:
No Soueraignty.

Seb.
Yet he would be King on’t.

Ant.
The latter end of his Common-wealth forgets the beginning.

Gon.
All things in common Nature should produce
Without sweat or endeuour: Treason, fellony,
Sword, Pike, Knife, Gun, or neede of any Engine
Would I not haue: but Nature should bring forth
Of it owne kinde, all foyzon, all abundance
To feed my innocent people.

Seb.
No marrying ’mong his subiects ?'

Ant.
None (man) all idle; Whores and knaues,

Gon.
I would with soch perfection gouerne Sir:
T’Excell the Golden Age.

Seb.
'Saue his Maiesty.

Ant.
Long liue Gonzalo.

Gon.
And do you marke me, Sir?

Alon.
Pre-thee no more: thou dost talke nothing to me.

Gon.
I do well beleeue your Highnesse, and did it to minister occasion to these Gentlemen, who are of such sensible and nimble Lungs, that they alwayes vse 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 giuen?

Seb.
And it had not falne flat-long.

Gon.
You are Gentlemen of braue mettal: you would lift the Moone out of her spheare, if she would continue in it siue weekes without changing.

Enter Ariell playing solemne Musicke.

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 aduenture my discretion so weakly: Will you laugh me afleepe, for I am very heauy.

Ant.
Go sleepe, and heare vs.

Alon.
What, all so soone afleepe? I wish mine eyes
Would (with themsclues) shut vp my thoughts,
I sinde they are inclin’d to do so.

Seb.
Please you Sir,
Do not omit the heauy offer of it:
It sildome visits sorrow, when it doth, it is a Comforter.