As stooping to relieve him: I not doubt He came alive to Land. Alon. No, no, he's gone. Seb. Sir, you may thank your felf for this great Lofs, Where the, at leaft, is banish'd from your Eye, Alon. Peethee Peace. Seb. You were kneel'd to, and importun'd otherwife By all of us: And the fair Soul her felf Weigh'd between Loathness and Obedience, at Which End o'th' Beam fhould bow. We have loft your Son I fear for ever: Millan and Naples have More Widows in them of this business making. Than we bring Men to comfort them: The Fault's your own. Alon. So is the dear'ft o'th' Lofs. Gon. My Loid Sebastian, The Truth you speak doth lack fome Gentleness Seb. Very well. Ant. And moft Chirurgeonly. Gon. It is foul Weather in us all, good Sir, When you are cloudy. Seb. Foul Weather? Aut. Very foul. Gon. Had I the Plantation of this Ifle, my Lord. Seb. Or Docks, or Mallows. Gon. And were the King on't, what would I do? Gon. I'th' Commonwealth I would, by contraries, C 4 And And Women too; but innocent and pure: No Sovereignty. 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 Seb. No marrying 'mong his Subjects? Ant. None, Man; all idle; Whores and Knaves. Gon. I would with fuch Perfection govern, Sir, T'excell the Golden Age. Seb. Save his Majefty. Ant. Long live Gonzalo. Gon. And do you mark me, Sir? Alon. Prethee no more; thou doft talk nothing to me. Gon. I do well believe your Highness, and did it to minister Occafion to these Gentlemen, who are of fuch fenfible and nimble Lungs, that they always ufe to laugh at nothing: Ant. 'Twas you I laugh'd at. Gon. Who, in this kind of merry fooling, am nothing to you: So you may continue, and laugh at nothing ftill. Ant. What a Blow was there given? Seb. And it had not fallen flat-long. Gon. You are Gentlemen of a brave Metal; you would lift the Moon out of her Sphere, if she would continue in it five weeks without changing. Enter Ariel playing folemn Mufick Seb. We would fo, and then go a Bat-fowling. Gon. No I warrant you, I will not adventure my Difcretion fo weakly: Will you laugh me afleep, for I am ve ry heavy. Ant. Go fleep, and hear us. Alon. What, all fo foon afleep? I with mine Eyes would, with themselves, fhut up my Thoughts: I find they are inclin'd to do fo. Seb. Please you, Sir, Do Do not omit the heavy Offer of it: It feldom vifits Sorrow; when it doth, it is a Comforter. [All fleep but Seb. and Ant. Seb. What a ftrange Drowsiness poffeffes them? Ant. It is the Quality o' th' Climate. Seb. Why Doth it not then our Eye-lids fink? I find Ant. Nor I, my Spirits are nimble: What might, no more. What thou shouldft be: The Occafion fpeaks thee, and Dropping upon thy Head. Seb. What, art thou waking? Seb. I do; and furely It is a fleepy Language, and thou fpeak'st Out of thy Sleep: What is it thou didft say? This is a ftrange Repose, to be asleep With Eyes wide open: Standing, fpeaking, moving; Ant. Noble Sebastian, Thou let'ft thy Fortune fleep; die rather: Wink'st Whilft thou art waking. Seb. Thou doft fnore diftin&tly; There's Meaning in thy Snores. Ant. I am more ferious than my Cuftom. You Must be fo too, if you heed me; which to do, Trebbles thee o'er. Seb. Well: I am standing Water. Ant. I'll teach you how to flow. Hereditary Sloth instructs me. Ant. O! If you but knew how you the Purpofe cherish, Whilft thus you mock it; how in stripping it Seb. Prethee fay on, The fetting of thine Eye and Cheek proclaim Ant. Thus Sir: Although this Lord of weak Remembrance; this When he is earth'd, hath here almost persuaded 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, is But doubt Discovery there. Will you grant, with me, Seb. He's gone. Ant. Then tell me who's the next Heir of Naples? Ant. She that is Queen of Tunis; fhe that dwells Ten Leagues beyond Man's Life; the that from Naples Seb. What Stuff is this? How fay you? 'Tis true, my Brother's Daughter's Queen of Tunis, S is the Heir of Naples, 'twixt which Regions There is fome Space. Ant. Ant. A Space whofe ev'ry Cubit That now hath feiz'd them, why they were no worse As this Gonzalo; I my felf could make A Chough of as deep Chat; O, that you bore Ant. And how does your Content You did fupplant your Brother Profpero. Ant. True: And look how well my Garments fit upon me, Ant. Ay, Sir; where lyes that? If 'twere a Kybe If he were that which now he's like, that's dead; Seb. Thy Cafe, dear Friend, Shall be my Prefident: As thou got'st Millan, And |