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Yet he would be king on't. Ant. The latter end of his commonwealth forgets the beginning.

165

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, 169 Of its own kind, all foison, all abundance, To feed my innocent people.

Seb. No marrying 'mong his subjects? 172 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? 176 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 laugh'd at.

183 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.

188 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.

192

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Doth it not then our eyelids sink? I find not
Myself dispos'd to sleep.
Ant.

Nor I: my spirits are nimble.

They fell together all, as by consent; They dropp'd, as by a thunder-stroke. What might,

212

Worthy Sebastian? O! what might? - No more: -
And yet methinks I see it in thy face,
What thou should'st be. The occasion speaks

thee; and

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Well; I am standing water.

Ant. I'll teach you how to flow.

Seb.

Hereditary sloth instructs me. Ant.

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If you but knew how you the purpose cherish
Whiles 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.

Prithee, say on: 236 The setting of thine eye and cheek proclaim A matter from thee, and a birth indeed Which throes thee much to yield. Ant.

Thus, sir: Although this lord of weak remembrance, this

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Ant.

He's gone.

Who's the next heir of Naples?
Seb.

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No better than the earth he lies 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; whiles you, doing thus,
To the perpetual wink for aye might put
This ancient morsel, this Sir Prudence, who

293

Then tell me 252 Should not upbraid our course. For all the rest,
Claribel.
Ant. She that is Queen of Tunis; she that
dwells

Ten leagues beyond man's life; she that from
Naples

Can have no note, unless the sun were post- 256
The man i' th' moon's too slow-till new-born
chins

Be rough and razorable: she that, from whom?
We all were sea-swallow'd, though some cast

again,

260

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 266 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

They'll take suggestion as a cat laps milk; 296
They'll tell the clock to any business that
We say befits the hour.
Seb.

Thy case, dear friend,
Shall be my precedent: as thou got'st Milan,
I'll come by Naples. Draw thy sword: one stroke
Shall free thee from the tribute which thou pay'st,
And I the king shall love thee.

Ant.

Draw together;
And when I rear my hand, do you the like, 303
To fall it on Gonzalo.

Seb. O! but one word. [They converse apart.
Music. 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 thee living.
[Sings in GONZALO'S ear.

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Than now they are. There be that can rule
Naples

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272

worse

As well as he that sleeps; lords that can prate
As amply and unnecessarily

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.

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Alon. Why, how now! ho, awake! Why are
you drawn?

Wherefore this ghastly looking?
Gon.

316

What's the matter?

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Trin. Here's neither bush nor shrub to bear off any weather at all, and another storm brewing; I hear it sing i' the wind: yond same black cloud, yond huge one, looks like a foul bombard that would shed his liquor. If it should thunder as it did before, I know not where to hide my head: yond same cloud cannot choose but fall by pailfuls.-What have we here? a man or a fish? Dead or alive? A fish: he smells like a fish; a very ancient and fish-like smell; a kind of not of the newest Poor-John. A strange fish!

Were I in England now, -as once I was, -and had but this fish painted, not a holiday fool there but would give a piece of silver: there would this monster make a man; any strange beast there makes a man. When they will not give a doit to relieve a lame beggar, they will lay out ten to see a dead Indian. Legg'd like a man! and his fins like arms! Warm, o' my troth! I do now let loose my opinion, hold it no longer; this is no fish, but an islander, that hath lately suffered by a thunderbolt. [Thunder.] Alas! the storm is come again: my best way is to creep under his gaberdine; there is no other shelter hereabout: misery acquaints a man with strange bedfellows. I will here shroud till the dregs of the storm be past.

44

Enter STEPHANO, singing; a bottle in his hand. Ste. I shall no more to sea, to sea,

Here shall I die a-shore :

This is a very scurvy tune to sing at a man's funeral:

[Drinks.

Well, here's my comfort.
The master, the swabber, the boatswain and I, 49

52

The gunner and his mate, Lov'd Mall, Meg, and Marian and Margery, But none of us car'd for Kate; For she had a tongue with a tang, Would cry to a sailor, 'Go hang!' She lov'd not the savour of tar nor of pitch, Yetatailor might scratch her where-e'er she did itch: Then to sea, boys, and let her go hang. 57 This is a scurvy tune too: but here's my comfort. [Drinks.

Cal. Do not torment me: O!

Ste. What's the matter? Have we devils here? Do you put tricks upon us with savages and men of Ind? Ha! I have not 'scaped drowning, to be afeard now of your four legs; for it hath been said, As proper a man as ever went on four legs cannot make him give ground: and it shall be said so again while Stephano breathes at's nostrils.

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Ste. Come on your ways: open your mouth; here is that which will give language to you, cat. Open your mouth: this will shake your shaking, I can tell you, and that soundly [gives CALIBAN drink]: you cannot tell who's your friend; open your chaps again.

Trin. I should know that voice: it should be-but he is drowned, and these are devils. O! defend me. 96

Ste. Four legs and two voices; a most delicate monster! His forward voice now is to speak well of his friend; his backward voice is to utter foul speeches, and to detract. If all the wine in my bottle will recover him, I will help his ague. Come. Amen! I will pour some in thy other mouth.

Trin. Stephano!

104

Ste. Doth thy other mouth call me? Mercy! mercy! This is a devil, and no monster: I will leave him; I have no long spoon.

Trin. Stephano! - if thou beest Stephano, touch me, and speak to me; for I am Trinculo: -be not afeard-thy good friend Trinculo. 110 Ste. If thou beest Trinculo, come forth. I'll pull thee by the lesser legs: if any be Trinculo's legs, these are they. Thou art very Trinculo indeed! How cam'st thou to be the siege of this moon-calf? Can he vent Trinculos? 115

Trin. I took him to be killed with a thunderstroke. But art thou not drowned, Stephano? I hope now thou art not drowned. Is the storm overblown? I hid me under the dead mooncalf's gaberdine for fear of the storm. And art thou living, Stephano? O Stephano! two Neapolitans 'scaped!

Ste. Prithee, do not turn me about: stomach is not constant.

122

my

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Trin. A most ridiculous monster, to make a wonder of a poor drunkard!

Cal. I prithee, let me bring thee where crabs grow;

180

And I with my long nails will dig thee pig-nuts; Show thee a jay's nest and instruct thee how To snare the nimble marmozet; I'll bring thee To clust'ring filberts, and sometimes I'll get thee Young scamels from the rock. Wilt thou go with me?

185

Ste. I prithee now, lead the way, without any more talking. - Trinculo, the king and all our company else being drowned, we will inherit here. -Here; bear my bottle. - Fellow Trinculo, we'll fill him by and by again.

190

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