Sidor som bilder
PDF
ePub

Seb. You have taken it wiselier than I meant you should.

Gon. Therefore, my lord,

Ant. Fie, what a spend-thrift 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.

Ant. The cockrel.

Seb. Done: the wager?

Ant. A laughter.

Seb. A match.

Adr. Though this island feem to be defart-
Sob. Ha, ha, ha, - So, you're paid.

Adr. Uninhabitable, and almost inaccessible

Seb. Yet,

Adr. Yet

Ant. He could not miss't.

Adr. It must needs be of fubtle, tender, and deli

cate temperance.

Ant. Temperance was a delicate wench.

Seb. Ay, and a fubtle, as he most learnedly deliver'd. Adr. The air breathes upon us here most sweetly.

Seb. As if it had lungs, and rotten ones.

Ant. Or, as 'twere perfum'd by a fen.

Gon. Here is every thing advantageous to life.

Ant. True, fave 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 does but mistake the truth totally.
Gon. But the rarity of it is, which is indeed almost

beyond credit

Seb.

Seb. As many voucht rarities are. Gon. That our garments being (as they were) drench'd in the fea, hold notwithstanding their freshness and gloffes; being rather new dy'd, than stain'd with falt-water.

Ant. If but one of his pockets could speak, would it not fay, 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.

Seb. "Twas a fweet marriage, and we profper well in our return.

Adr. 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 study of that: she was of Carthage, not of Tunis.

Gon. This Tunis, Sir, was Carthage.

Adr. Carthage?

Gon. I affure you, Carthage.

Ant. His word is more than the miraculous harp. Seb. He hath rais'd the wall, and houses too.

Ant. What impoffible matter will he make easy next? Seb. I think, he will carry this island home in his

pocket, and give it his fon 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 seem now as fresh, as when we were at Tunis at the marriage of your daughter, who is now Queen.

[blocks in formation]

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 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.]
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 fon is loft; and, in my rate, she too;
Who is fo far from Italy remov'd,

I ne'er again shall fee her: 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 furges under him,
And ride upon their backs; he trod the water;
Whose enmity he flung aside, and breafted
The furge most swoln that met him: his bold head
'Bove the contentious waves he kept, and oar'd
Himself with his good arms in lusty strokes
To th' fhore; 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 lofs, 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. Pr'ythee, peace.

Seb. You were kneel'd to, and importun'd otherwise By all of us; and the fair foul herself Weigh'd between lothness and obedience, at Which end the beam should bow. We've lost your fon., I fear, for ever: Milan and Naples have

More widows in them of this business' making,

Than

Than we bring men to comfort them:
The fault's your own.

Alon. So is the dearest o' th' loss.

Gon. My lord Sebastian,

The truth, you speak, doth lack some gentleness, And time to speak it in: you rub the fore,

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?

Ant. Very Foul

Gon. Had I the plantation of this ifle, my lordAnt. 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 shall not be known; wealth, poverty, "And use of service, none; contract, fucceffion, "Bourn, 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 Sov'reignty.

Seb. 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 fweat or endeavour. Treason, felony, "Sword, pike, knife, gun, or need of any engine,

* The latter end of his commonwealth forgets the beginning.] All this Dialogue is a fine Satire on the Utopean Treatises of Government, and the impracticable inconsistant Schemes therein recommended. "Would

C3

"Would I not have; but nature should bring forth, " Of its own kind, all * foifon, 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 fuch perfection govern, Sir,

T' excel the golden age.

Seb. Save his Magesty!

Ant. Long live Gonzalo!

Gon. And, do you mark me, Sir?

Alon. Pr'ythee, 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 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. An it had not fallen flat-long.

Gon. You are gentlemen of 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 Music.

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

Ant. Nay, my good lord, be not angry.

Gon. No, I warrant you, I will not adventure my difcretion so weakly: will you laugh me afleep, for I am very heavy?

Ant. Go, fleep, and hear us.

Alon. What all fo foon afleep? I wish, mine eyes Would with themselves shut up my thoughts: I find, They are inclin'd to do fo.

*--- all foifon, all abundance.] foison signifies the great Plenty of

any Thing.

Seb.

« FöregåendeFortsätt »