So they are;

Thy nerves are in their infancy again

And have no vigour in them.
Fer.
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' the earth
Let liberty make use of; space enough
Have I in such a prison.

Pros. [Aside] It works. [To Fer.] Come on.
Thou hast done well, fine Ariel! [To Fer.] Follow me.
[To Ari.] Hark what thou else shalt do me.
Mir.

My father's of a better nature, sir,

Than he appears by speech: this is unwonted
Which now came from him.

490

Be of comfort;

Pros.
As mountain winds: but then exactly do
All points of my command.

Thou shalt be as free

Ari.

To the syllable.

Pros. Come, follow. Speak not for him.

ACT II.

SCENE I. Another part of the island.

500 [Exeunt.

Enter ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, GONZALO, ADRIAN, FRANCISCO, and others.

Gon. Beseech you, sir, be merry; you have cause,

So have we all, of joy; for our escape

Is much beyond our loss. Our hint of woe

Is common; every day some sailor's wife,

The masters of some merchant and the merchant
Have just our theme of woe; but for the miracle,
I mean our preservation, few in millions

Can speak like us then wisely, good sir, weigh
Our sorrow with our comfort.

Alon.

Prithee, peace.

Seb. He receives comfort like cold porridge.

Ant. The visitor will not give him o'er so.

10

Seb. Look, he's winding up the watch of his wit; by and

by it will strike,

Gon. Sir,

Seb. One: tell.

Gon. When every grief is entertain'd that's offer'd, Comes to the entertainer

Seb. A dollar.

Gon. Dolour comes to him, indeed: you have spoken truer than you purposed.

20

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 prithee, spare.

Gon. Well, I have done: but yet,

Seb. He will be talking.

Ant. Which of he or Adrian, for a good wager, first be

gins to crow?

Seb. The old cock.

Ant. The cockerel.

Seb. Done. The wager?

Ant. A laughter.

Seb. A match!

Adr. Though this island seem to be desert,

Seb. Ha, ha, ha! So you're paid.

Seb. Yet,

Adr. Uninhabitable and almost inaccessible,—

Ant. He could not miss't.

Adr. Yet,

30

40

Adr. It must needs be of subtle, tender and delicate tem

perance.

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. As if it had lungs and rotten ones.

Ant. Or as 'twere perfumed by a fen.

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.

Seb. With an eye of green in't.

Ant. He misses not much.

Seb. No; he doth but mistake the truth totally.

50

Gon. But the rarity of it is,-which is indeed almost beyond credit. -

Seb. As many vouched rarities are.

Gon. That our garments, being, as they were, drenched in the sea, hold nothwithstanding their freshness and glosses, being rather new-dyed than stained 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. 71

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 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.

Adr. Carthage?

Gon. I assure you, Carthage.

Seb. His word is more than the miraculous harp; he hath raised 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.

91

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.

100

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 fished for.

Gon. When I wore it at your daughter's marriage?

Alon. You cram these words into mine ears against

The stomach of my sense.

Would I had never

Married my daughter there! for, coming thence,

My son is lost and, in my rate, she too,

Who is so far from Italy removed

I ne'er again shall see her.

110

O thou mine heir

Of Naples and of Milan, what strange fish
Hath made his meal on thee?

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
'Bove the contentious waves he kept, and oar'd
Himself with his good arms in lusty stroke

To the shore, that o'er his wave-worn basis bow'd,
As stooping to relieve him: I not doubt
He came alive to land.

Alon.

No, no, he's gone.

Seb. Sir, you may thank yourself for this great loss, That would not bless our Europe with your daughter, But rather lose her to an African;

Where she at least is banish'd from your eye,

Who hath cause to wet the grief on't.

Alon.

Prithee, peace.

Seb. You were kneel'd to and importuned otherwise

By all of us, and the fair soul herself

Weigh'd between loathness and obedience at

120

130

Which end o' the beam should bow. We have lost your son,

I fear, for ever: Milan 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'st o' the loss.

Gon. 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.

Seb.

Ant. And most chirurgeonly.

Very well.

140

Gon. It is foul weather in us all, good sir, When you are cloudy.

Seb.

Ant.

Foul weather?

Very foul.

Gon. Had I a plantation of this isle, my lord,-
Ant. He'ld 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;
No occupation; all men idle, all;
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
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 foison, 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.

God save his majesty !

160

Ant. Long live Gonzalo ! Gon. And, do you mark me, sir? Alon. Prithee, 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 laughed 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.

180

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.

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

Gon. No, I warrant you; I will not adventure my discretion so weakly. Will you laugh me asleep, for I am very heavy?

Ant, Go sleep, and hear us.

190

[All sleep except Alon., Seb., and Ant. Alon What, all so soon asleep! I wish mine eyes Would, with themselves, shut up my thoughts: I find They are inclined to do so.

Seb.

Please you, sir,

Do not omit the heavy offer of it: