Ant. And moft chirurgeonly.

Gon. It is foul weather in us all, good Sir,

When you are cloudy.

Seb. Fout weather?

Ant. Very foul.

Gon. Had I the plantation of this ifle, my lord-
Ant. He'd fow'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 traffick
Would I admit ; no name of magiftrate;
Letters fhould not be known; wealth, poverty,
And ufe of fervice, none; contract, fucceffion,
Bourn, bound of land, tilth, vineyard, none:
No ufe of metal, corn, or wine, or oil;
No occupation, all men idle, all,

And women too; but innocent and pure:
No Sov'reignty.

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 fweat or endeavour. Treafon, felony, Sword, pike, knife, gun, or need of any engine, Would I not have; but nature fhould bring forth, Of its own kind, all foyzon, all abundance To feed my innocent people.

Seb. No marrying 'mong his fubjects?

Ant. None, man; all idle; whores and knaves. Gon. I would with fuch perfection govern, Sir, T'excel the golden age.

Seb. Save his Majesty!

Ant. Long live Gonzalo !

me.

Gon. And, do you mark me, Sir?

Alon. Pr'ythee no more; thou doft talk nothing to

Gon. I do well believe your Highness; and did it to minifter occafion to thefe gentlemen, who are of fuch fenfible

C 2

fenfible and nimble lungs, that they always ufe to laugh at nothing.

Ant. 'Twas you we laugh'd at.

Gon. Who, in this kind of merry fooling, am nothing to you: fo you may continue, and laugh at nothing fill.

Ant. What a blow was there given?,

Seb. An it had not fallen flat-long.

UL

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

Enter Ariel, playing folemn Mufick.

Seb. We would fo, and then go a bat-fowling.
Ant. Nay, my good lord, be not angry.

Gon. No, I warrant you, I will not adventure my difcretion fo weakly; will you laugh me afleep, for I am very heavy ?

Ant. Go, fleep, and hear us.

Alon. What, all fo foon afleep? I wish, mine eyes Would with themfelves fhut up my thoughts: I find, They are inclin'd to do fo..

Seb. Please you, Sir,

Do not omit the heavy offer of it:

It feldom vifits forrow; when it doth,

It is a comforter.

Ant. We two, my lord,

Will guard your perfon, while you take your reft,

And watch your safety."

Alon. Thank you: wond'rous heavy.

[All fleep but Seb. and Ant.

Seb. What a ftrange drowfinefs poffeffes them?

Ant. It is the quality o'th' climate.

Seb. Why

Doth it not then our eye-lids fink? I find not
Myfelf difpos'd to fleep.

Ant. Nor I, my fpirits are nimble:

They fell together all as by confent,

They dropt as by a thunder-ftroke. What might,

Worthy SebaftianO, what might no more.

And

And yet, methinks, I fee it in thy face,

:

What thou should't be th' occafion speaks thee, and
My ftrong imagination fees a crown
Dropping upon thy head.!

Seb. What, art thou waking?
Ant. Do you not hear me speak?
Seb. I do; and, furely,

It is a fleepy language; and thou speak'
Out of thy fleep: what is it thou didst say?
This is a ftrange repofe, to be asleep

With eyes wide open: ftanding, fpeaking, moving;
And yet fo faft afleep.

Ant. Noble Sebaftian,

Thou let'ft thy fortune fleep: die.rather wink'st,
Whilft thou art waking.

Seb. Thou doft fnore diftinctly;

There's meaning in thy fnores.

Ant. I am more ferious than my cuftom. You Must be so too, if heed me; which to do,

Trebles thee o'er. (8)

Seb. Well: I am standing water.

Ant. I'll teach you how to flow.
Seb. Do fo: to ebb

Hereditary floth inftructs me.
Ant. O!

If you but knew, how you the purpose cherish,
Whilft thus you mock it; how, in ftripping it,
You more inveft it, ebbing men, indeed,
Most often do fo near the bottom run,

By their own fear or floth.

Seb. Pr'ythee, fay on;

The fetting of thine eye and cheek proclaim

(8) Trebles thee o'er.] i. e. makes thee thrice what thou now art, Thus the two first Folio's, and all the other Impreffions of any Authority, that I have feen, exhibit the Text and the Phrase is familiar both to our Poet, and other Stage-Writers of his Time.

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 fay, will lie buried there in a proper Obfcurity.

A matter from thee; and a birth, indeed,
Which throes thee much to yield.

Although this lord of weak remembrance, this,
(Who fhall be of as little memory,

When he is earth'd ;) hath here almoft perfuaded
(For he's a fpirit of perfuafion, only
Profeffes to perfuade) the King, his fon's alive;
'Tis as impoffible that he's undrown'd,
As he, that fleeps here, fwims.

Seb. I have no hope,

That he's undrown'd.

Ant. O, out of that no hope,

What great hope have you ? no hope, that way,
Another way fo high an hope, that even

Ambition cannot pierce a wink beyond, : 7.

But doubt difcovery there. Will you grant, with me, That Ferdinand is drown'd?

Seb. He's gone.

Ant. Then tell me

Who's the next heir of Naples ?

Seb. Claribel.

Ant. She that is Queen of Tunis fhe that dwells Ten leagues beyond man's life; fhe that from Naples Can have no note, unless the fun were post,

(The man i'th moon's too flow) till new-born chins
Be rough and razorable; fhe, from whom

We were fea-fwallow'd; tho' fome, caft again,
May by that defliny perform an act,

Whereof, what's paft is prologue; what to come,
Is yours and my discharge-

Seb. What ftuff is this? how fay you?

'Tis true, my brother's daughter's Queen of Tunis, So is the heir of Naples; 'twixt which regions There is fome space.

Ant. A fpace, whofe ev'ry cubit

Seems to cry out, how fhall that Claribel
Meafure us back to Naples? Keep in Tunis,
And let Sebaftian wake. Say, this were death

That now hath feiz'd them, why, they were no worse

Than

Than now they are: there be, that can rule Naples,
As well as he that fleeps; lords that can prate
As amply, and unneceffarily,

As this Gonzalo; I myself could make

A chough of as deep chat. O, that you bore
The mind that I do; what a fleep was this

For 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 fupplant your brother Profp'ro.
Ant. True:

And, look, how well my garments fit upon me;
Much feater than before. My brother's fervants
Were then my fellows, now they are my men.
Seb. But, for your confcience-

Ant. Ay, Sir; where lies that ?

If 'twere a kybe, 'twould put me to my flipper:
But I feel not this deity in my bosom.

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 fteel, three inches of it,
Can lay to bed for ever: you doing thus,
To the perpetual wink for ay might put
This ancient Morfel, this Sir Prudence, who
Should not upbraid our courfe. For all the reft,
They'll take fuggeftion, as a cat laps milk;
They'll tell the clock to any business, that,
We fay, befits the hour.

Seb. Thy cafe, dear friend,

Shall be my precedent: as thou got' Milan,

I'll come by Naples. Draw thy fword; one ftroke
Shall free thee from the tribute which thou pay'st;
And I the King fhall love thee.

Ant. Draw together:

And when I rear my hand, do

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