Imatges de pàgina
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SEB. He receives comfort like cold porridge.
ANT. The visitor will not give him o'er so.
SEB. Look, he's winding up the watch of his wit;

GON. Beseech you, sir, be merry: you have By and by it will strike.

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GON. Sir,

SEB. One-tell.

GON. When every grief is entertain'd that's offer'd,

Comes to the entertainer

SEB. A dollar.

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ANT. He could not miss it.

ADR. It must needs be of subtle, tender, and delicate temperance.©

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 't were perfumed by a fen.
GON. Here is everything 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. 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, notwithstanding, 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.

a Which, of he or Adrian,-] So the old text, and rightly; compare the following from "Midsummer Night's Dream," Act III. Se. 2:

"Now follow, if thou dar'st to try whose right,

Of thine or mine, is most in Helena."

The usual reading is that adopted by Capell, "Which of them, he or Adrian," &c.; but Mr. Collier's annotator reads,"Which, or he or Adrian," &c.

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 Eneas 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.

ANT. His word is more than the miraculous harp. SEB. 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. ANT. And, sowing the kernels of it in the sea, bring forth more islands. ALON. 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. 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 fish'd for. GON. When I wore it at your daughter's marriage?

ALON. You cram these words into mine ears

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b Ha, ha, ha! So, you're paid.] In the old copies, "So, you're paid," is given to Antonio, wrongly.

c Temperance.] That is, temperature.

d Lush-] Succulent, juicy.

ethe miraculous harp.] The harp of Amphion.

f Ay! This sigh or exclamation, which the two next speeches show indisputably to have been uttered by the king, upon awaking from his trance of grief, has hitherto, in both old and modern editions, been assigned to Gonzalo.

ACT II.]

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SEB.

Foul weather!

Very foul.
ANT.
GON. Had I plantation of this isle, my lord,-
ANT. He'd 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 con-
traries

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,

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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 it own kind, all foizon,Þ all abundance,
To feed my innocent people.(1)

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.

Save his majesty !

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 occasion to these gentlemen, who are of such 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 mettle; you would lift the moon out of her sphere, if she would continue in it five weeks without changing.

Enter ARIEL, invisible, solemn Music playing. SEB. We would so, and then go a bat-fowling.(2) 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.

[All sleep but ALON., SEB., and ANT. ALON. What, all so soon asleep! I wish mine

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And Mr. Collier's annotator changes the "at" of the previous line to as,

66 as

Which end," &c.

b Foizon,-] Abundance, plenty.

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ANT. She that is queen of Tunis; she that dwells [Naples Ten leagues beyond man's life; she that from Can have no note, unless the sun were post,The man i'the moon's too slow,-till new-born chins

Be rough and razorable; she, from whom We all were sea-swallow'd, though some cast again;

d

And, by that destiny, to perform an act, Whereof what's past is 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: So is she heir of Naples; 'twixt which regions There is some space.

ANT. A space whose every cubit Seems to cry out, How shall that Claribel Measure us back to Naples? Keep in Tunis, And let Sebastian wake !-Say, this were death That now hath seiz'd them; why, they were no [Naples Than now they are. There be that can rule As well as he that sleeps; lords that can prate As amply and unnecessarily

worse

As this Gonzalo; I myself 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,

True:

You did supplant your brother Prospero. ANT.

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Re-enter ARIEL, invisible.

ARI. My master through his art foresees the danger

That

you, his friend, are in; and sends me forth,For else his project dies,-to keep them living. [Sings in GONZALO's ear.

While you here do snoring lie,
Open-eyed Conspiracy

His time doth take:

If of life you keep a care,

Shake off slumber, and beware.
Awake! awake!

ANT. Then let us both be sudden.

GoN. [Waking.] Now, good angels, preserve the king!

Why, how now? ho, awake! Why are you

drawn?

Wherefore this ghastly looking?

a Suggestion-] Has before been explained to mean, temptation. b To keep them living.] Mr. Dyce reads, "to keep thee living," which is preferable to any alteration of the passage yet suggested; but we are not convinced that change is required.

e Why, how now? ho, awake! &c.] In the old copy, and in every subsequent edition, this speech is given to the king and the next to Gonzalo, but erroneously, as we think is evident from the language, the business of the scene, and from what Gonzalo

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Enter CALIBAN, with a burden of wood. A noise of thunder heard.

CAL. All the infections that the sun sucks up From bogs, fens, flats, on Prosper fall, and make him

By inch-meal a disease! His spirits hear me, And yet I needs must curse: but they'll nor pinch,

Fright me with urchin-shows, pitch me i' the mire,
Nor lead me, like a firebrand, in the dark
Out of my way, unless he bid 'em; but
For every trifle are they set upon me,
Sometime like apes, that moe and chatter at me,
And after, bite me; then like hedgehogs, which
Lie tumbling in my
barefoot way, and mount

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