ACT II. SCENE I. Enter Alonfo, Sebaftian, Anthonio, Gonzalo, Adrian, Gonz. Behave we all) of Joy; for our Escape Is much beyond our Lofs; our Hint of Wo Can fpeak like us: Then wifely, good Sir, weigh Alon. Prethee Peace. Seb. He receives Comfort like cold Porridge. Seb. Look, he's winding up the Watch of his Wit, Gen. Sir. Seb. On: Tell. Grief is entertain'd That's offer'd; comes to the Entertainer Seb. A Dollor. Gon. Dolour comes to him indeed, you have spoken truer than you purpos'd. Seb. You have taken it wifelier than I meant you should. Ant. Fie, what a Spend-thrift is he of his Tongue? Alon. I prethee fpare. Gon. Well, I have done: But yet Seb. He will be talking.. Ant. Which of he, or Adrian, for a good Wager, Firft begins to crow? Seb. The old Cock. Ant. The Cockrell. Seb. Done: The Wager? Ant. A Laughter. Seb. A Match. Adr. Though this Ifland feem to be defert Seb. Ha, ha, ha. Ant Ant. So: You're paid. Adr. Uninhabitable, and almost inacceffible. Seb. Yet. Adr. Yet Ant. He could not mifs't. Adr. It must needs be of fubtle, tender, and delicate Temperance. Ant. Temperance was a delicate Wench. Seb. Ay, and a fubtle, as he most learnedly deliver'd. Ant. Or, as 'twere perfumed by a Fen. Gon. Here is every thing advantageous to Life. Seb. Of that there's none, or little. Gon. How lush and lufty the Grafs looks? How green? Ant. The Ground indeed is tawny. Seb. With an Eye of green in't, Ant. He miffes not much. Seb. No: He doth but mistake the Truth totally. Gon. But the Rarity of it is, which is indeed almoft beyond Credit Seb. As many voucht Rarities are, f Gon. That our Garments, being (as they were) drencht in the Sea, hold notwithstanding their Freshness and Glosses, being rather new dy'd than ftain'd with falt Water. Ant. If but one of his Pockets could speak, would it not fay he lies? Seb. Ay, or very falfely pocket up his Report, Gon. Methinks our Garments are now as fresh as when we put them on firft in Affrick, at the Marriage of the King's fair Daughter Claribel, to the King of Tunis. Seb. 'Twas a fweet Marriage, and we profper well in our Return. Adri. Tunis was never grac'd before with fuch a Paragon to their Queen. Gon. Not fince Widow Dido's time. Ant. Widow? a Pox o' that: How came that Widow in? Widow Dido! Seb. What if he had faid Widower Æneas too? Good Lord, how you take it! Adr. Widow Dido, faid you? You make me ftudy of that: She was of Carthage, not of Tunis. Gon. This Tunis, Sir, was Carthage, Adri. Carthage. Gon. I affure you Carthage. Ant. His Word is more than the miraculous Harp, Ant. What impoffible matter will he make eafie next? Seb. I think he will carry this Ifland home in his Pocket, and give it his Son for an Apple. Ant. And fowing the Kernels of it in the Sea, bring forth more Iflands. Gon. Ay. Ant. Why in good time. Gon. Sir, we were talking, that our Garments feem now as fresh as when we were at Tunis at the Marriage of your Daughter, who is now Queen, Ant. And the rareft that e'er came there, Gon. Is not my Doublet, Sir, as fresh as the first Day I wore it? I mean in a fort. Ant. That fort was well fish'd for. Gon. When I wore it at your Daughter's Marriage, I ne'er again fhall fee her: O thou mine Heir Fran. Sir, he may live, I faw him beat the Surges under him, And ride upon their Backs; he trod the Water,2 Whose Enmity he flung afide; and breasted, The Surge moft fwollen that met him: His bold Head As As ftooping to relieve him: I not doubt Alon. No, no, he's gone. Seb. Sir, you may thank your felf for this great Lofs, That would not blefs our Europe with your Daughter, But rather lofe her to an Affrican; Where the, at leaft, is banish'd from your Eye, } Alon. Prethee Peace. Seb. You were kneel'd to, and importun'd otherwise Which End o'th' Beam fhould bow. We have loft your Son More Widows in them of this business making, - The Fault's your own. Alon. So is the dear'ft o' th' Lofs, Gon. My Lord 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? Ant. 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? '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 minifter Occafion to these Gentlemen, who are of such sensible and nimble Lungs, that they always use to laugh at no¬ thing. 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. 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 asleep, for I am ve ry heavy. Ant. Go fleep, and hear us. Alon. What, all fo foon asleep? I wish mine Eyes would, with themselves, fhut up my Thoughts: I find they are inclin❜d to do fo. Seb. Please you, Sir, Do |