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 self for this great Lofs,
That would not bless our Europe with your Daughter,
But rather lose her to an Affrican;

Where she, at least, is banish'd from your Eye,
Who hath Cause to wet the Grief on't.

Alon. Peethee Peace.

Seb. You were kneel'd to, and importun'd otherwise

By all of us: And the fair Soul her felf
Weigh'd between Loathness and Obedience, at

Which End o'th' Beam should bow. We have lost 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'st o'th' 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 Plaister.

Seb. Very well.

Ant. And most Chirurgeonly.

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

When you are cloudy...

Seb. Foul Weather?

Ast. Very foul.

Gon. Had I the Plantation of this Isle, 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 Magistrate;
Letters should not be known; Riches, Poverty,
And use of Service, none; Contract, Succeffion,
Born, Bound of Land, Tilth, Vineyard none;
No use of Metal, Corn, or Wine, or Oyl;
No Occupation, all Men idle, all,

And Women too; but innocent and pure:

No Soveraignty.

4

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 Foyzon, 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,

T' excell the Golden Age.

Seb. Save his Majesty.

Ant. Long live Gonzalo.

Gon. And do you mark me, Sir?

Alon. Prethee no more; thou dost talk nothing to me. Gon. I do well believe your Highness, and did it to minister Occafion to these Gentlemen, who are of fuch sensible and nimble Lungs, that they always use 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 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 solemn Musick.

Seb. We would fo, and then go a Bat-fowling.

Ant. Nay, good my Lord be not angry.

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

Ant. Go fleep, and hear us.

Alon. What, all fo foon afleep? I with mine Eyes would,

with themselves, shut 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 visits Sorrow; when it doth, it is a Comforter.
Ant. We two, my Lord, will guard your Person,

While you take your Rest, and watch your Safety.
Alon. Thank you: Wondrous heavy.

[All sleep but Seb. and Ant.

Seb. What a strange Drowsiness possesses them?

Ant. It is the Quality o' th' Climate.

Seb. Why

Doth it not then our Eye-lids sink? I find

Not my self dispos'd to fleep.

Ant. Nor I, my Spirits are nimble:

They fell together all, as by Consent

They dropt, as by a Thunder-stroke. What might,
Worthy Sebastian O, what might no more.
And yet, methinks I fee it in thy Face,

What thou shouldst be: The Occasion speaks thee, and

My strong 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'ft
Out of thy Sleep: What is it thou didst say?

This is a strange Repose, to be asleep

With Eyes wide open: Standing, speaking, moving;
And yet so fast asleep.

Ant. Noble Sebastian,

Thou let'st thy Fortune fleep; die rather: Wink'st
Whilft thou art waking.

Seb. Thou dost snore distinctly;

There's Meaning in thy Snores.

Ant. I am more ferious than my Custom. You Must be so 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.

Seb. Do fo: To ebb,

Hereditary Sloth instructs me.

Ant. O!

If you but knew how you the Purpose cherish,

Whilst thus you mock it; how in stripping it
You more invest it: Ebbing Men, indeed,
Most often do so, near the Bottom, run,
By their own Fear or Sloth.

Seb. Prethee say on,

The fetting of thine Eye and Cheek proclaim
A Matter from thee; and a Birth, indeed,
Which throws thee much to yield.

Ant. Thus Sir:

Although this Lord of weak Remembrance; this
Who shall be of as little Memory

When he is earth'd, hath here almost perfuaded
(For he's a Spirit of Perfuafion, only
Professes to perfuade) the King his Son's alive;
Tis as impossible that he's undrown'd,

As he that fleeps here, swims.

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
Another way so high an Hope, that even
Ambition cannot pierce a Wink beyond,

But doubt Discovery 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; she that dwells
Ten Leagues beyond Man's Life; the that from Naples
Can have no Note, unless the Sun were Post,
The Man i'th' Moon's too flow, 'till new-born Chins
Be rough, and razorable; she from whom
We all were Sea-swallow'd, tho'some cast again,
And by that Deftiny to perform an Act;
Whereof, what's past in Prologue, what to come
In yours, and my Discharge

Seb. What Stuff is this? How say you?
'Tis true, my Brother's Daughter's Queen of Tunis,
S) is she Heir of Naples, 'twixt which Regions

There is fome Space.

F

Ant.

Ant. A Space whose ev'ry Cubit
Seems to cry out, How shall that Claribel
Measure us back by Naples keep in Tunis,
And let Sebastian wake. Say, this were Death
That now hath seiz'd them, why they were no worse
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 my self could make

A Chough of as deep Chat; O, that you bore
The Mind that I do; what a Sleep were 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 supplant your Brother Profpero.

Ant. True:

And look how well my Garments fit upon me,
Much feater than before. My Brother's Servants
Where then my Fellows, now they are my Men.
Seb. But for your Confcience.
Ant. Ay, Sir; where lyes that? If 'twere a Kybe
'Twould put me to my Slipper: But I feel not
This Deity in my Bosom. Twenty Confciences
That stand 'twixt me and Millan, candied be they,
And melt e'er they molest. Here lyes your Brother,
No better than the Earth he lyes upon,

If he were that which now he's like, that's dead;
Whom I with this obedient Steel, three Inches of it,
Can lay to Bed for ever: Whilst you doing thus,
To the perpetual Wink for ay might put
This ancient Morfel, this Sir Prudence, who
Should not upbraid our Course. For all the rest
They'll take Suggestion, 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 President: As thou got'it Millan,
I'll come by Naples. Draw thy Sword, one Stroke
Shall free thee from the Tribute which thou payest,