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SCENE I-Another part of the island. Enter Alonso, Sebastian, Antonio, Gonzalo, Adrian, Francisco, and others.
Gon. 'Beseech you, sir, be merry: you have
(So have we all) of joy; for our escape
The masters of some merchant, and the merchant,
Pr'ythee, peace. Seb. He receives comfort like cold porridge. Ant. The visitor will not give him o'er so. Seb. Look, he's winding up the watch of his wit; by and by it will strike.
Gon. When every grief is entertain'd, that's offer'd, Comes to the entertainer
Gon. Dolour comes to him, indeed; you have spoken truer than you proposed.
Seb. You have taken it wiselier than I meant you should.
Gon. Therefore, my lord,
Ant. Fie, what a spendthrift is he of his tongue! Alon. I pr'ythee, spare.
Gon. Well, I have done: 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.
Seb. Done: the wager?
Adr. Though this island seem to be desert,—
Adr. Uninhabitable, and almost inaccessible,-
Ant. He could not miss it.
Adr. It must needs be of subtle, tender, and delicate temperance.
Ant. Temperance was a delicate wench. Seb. Ay, and a subtle; as he most learnedly delivered.
Adr. The air breathes upon us here most sweetly.
Seb. Of that there's none, or little.
Gon. How lush2 and lusty the grass looks! how green!
Ant. The ground, indeed, is tawny.
Seb. With an eye3 of green in't.
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 as
(1) Temperature. (2) Rank. (3) Shade of colour.
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 grac'd 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 Æneas 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.
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.
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.1
Ant. That sort was well fish'd for.
Gon. When I wore it at your daughter's marriage?
(1) Degree or quality.
Alon. You cram these words into mine ears,
The stomach of my sense: 'would I had never
Fran. Sir, he may live; I saw him beat the surges under him, And ride upon their backs; he trod the water, Whose enmity he flung aside, and breasted The surge most swoln that met him: his bold head
'Bore the contentious waves he kept, and oar'd
No, no, he's
Alon. Seb. Sir, you may thank yourself for this great loss; That would not bless our Europe with your daugh
But rather lose her to an African;
Pr'y thee, peace.
Seb. You were kneel'd to, and importun'd otherwise
By all of us; and the fair soul herself
I fear, for ever: Milan and Naples have
Alon. So is the dearest of the loss.
My lord Sebastian, The truth you speak doth lack some gentleness, And time to speak it in: : you rub the sore, When you should bring the plaster..
Ant. And most chirurgeonly.
Very foul. 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 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; no use of service, Of riches or of poverty; no contracts, Successions; 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:—
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,1 Would I not have; but nature should bring forth, Of its own kind, all foizon,2 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.
(1) The rack.