Ari. Hark, hark! I hear The strain of strutting chanticlere Fer. Where should this music be? i' th' air, or It sounds no more;-and sure, it waits upon ARIEL sings. Full fathom five thy father lies; Of his bones are coral made; Fer. The ditty does remember my drown'd This is no mortal business, nor no sound What is't? a spirit? As we have; such. This gallant which thou seest, Was in the wreck; and but he's something stain'd Fer. A single thing, as I am now, that wonders To hear thee speak of Naples. He does hear me, And that he does I weep: myself am Naples; Who with mine eyes, ne'er since at ebb, beheld The king, my father, wreck'd. Mira. Alack, for mercy! Fer. Yes, faith, and all his lords; the duke of Milan, And his brave son, being twain. Pro. The duke of Milan, And his more braver daughter, could control thee, If now 'twere fit to do't.-[Aside.]-At the first sight They have chang'd eyes:-delicate Ariel, Shall make me chide thee, if not hate thee. What' Thou think'st there are no more such shapes as he Mira. My affections Are then most humble: I have no ambition To see a goodlier man. Pro. Come on; obey: [To FER Thy nerves are in their infancy again, And have no vigour in them. Fer. So they are: My spirits, as in a dream, are all bound up. My father's loss, the weakness which I feel, The wreck of all my friends, nor this man's threats. To whom I am subdued, are but light to me, Might I but through my prison once a day Behold this maid; all corners else o' th' earth Let liberty make use of; space enough Have I in such a prison. Pro. It works. Come on.Thou hast done well, fine Ariel!-Follow me.[To FERD., and MIR Hark, what thou else shall do me. Mira. [To ARIEL Be of comfort. Gon. Here is every thing advantageous to life. Ant. True; save means to live. Seb. Of that there's none, or little. Gon. How lush and lusty the grass looks! how green! Ant. The ground, indeed, is tawny. 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 dyed, 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 as when we put them on first in Afric, at the marriage of the king's fair daughter Claribel to the king of Tunis. 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 next? 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. Gon. Sir, we were talking, that our garments seem now as fresh, as when we were at Tunis at the marriage of your daughter, who is now queen. 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. Very foul. Gon. Had I plantation of this isle, my lord,— Ant. He'd sow 't with nettle-seed. 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' 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: 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 produce, Without sweat or endeavour: treason, felony, Sword, pike, knife, gun, or need of any engine, Would I not have; but nature should bring forth, Of its own kind, all foizon, 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 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 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. Can have no note, unless the sun were post, Seb. Ant. A space whose every 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 hath seiz'd them; why, they were no worse Than now they are. There be, that can rule Naples As this Gonzalo; I myself could make A chough of as deep chat. O, that you bore And how does your content I remember, You did supplant your brother Prospero. Ant. True: And look how well my garments sit 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 it were a kybe, If he were that which now he's like-that's dead, Seb. Ant. Draw together |