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Ant. Widow, a pox o'that: how came that widow in? widow Dido! 8

Seb. What if he had faid, widower Æneas too? Good lord, how you take it!

Adr. Widow Dido, faid you? you make me ftudy of that he was of Carthage, not of Tunis. Gon. This Tunis, Sir, was Carthage.

Adr. Carthege?

Gon. I affure you, Carthage.

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

Ant. What impoffible matter will he make eafy next? Seb. I think, he will carry this Inland 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. I

Ant. Why, in good time.

Gon. Sir, we were talking, that our garments feem now as fresh, as when we were at Tunis at the marriage of your daughter, who is now Queen.

Ant. And the rareft that e'er came there.

Seb. Bate, I befeech 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 thefe words into mine ears against The ftomach of my fense. Would I had never Married my daughter there! For, coming thence, My fon is loft; and, in my rate, fhe too;

Who is fo far from Italy remov'd,

I ne'er again fhall fee her: O thou mine heir
Of Naples and of Milan, what strange fish

8 The name of a widow brings to their minds their own fhipwreck, which they confider as VOL. I.


having made many widows in Naples.


Hath made his meal on thee?

Fran. Sir, he may live.

I faw him beat the furges under him,

And ride upon their backs; he trod the water,
Whofe enmity he flung afide, and breasted
The furge moft fwoln that met him: his bold head
'Bove the contentious waves he kept, and oar'd
Himfelf with his good arms in lusty strokes
To th' fhore that o'er his wave-worn bafis bow'd,
As ftooping 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 blefs our Europe with your daughter, But rather lofe her to an African;

Where fhe, at least, is banifh'd from your eye,
Who hath caufe to wet the grief on't.

Alon. Pr'ythee, peace.

Seb. You were kneel'd to, and importuned otherwise By all of us; and the fair foul herself

Weigh'd between lothnefs and obedience, at

Which end the beam fhould bow. We've loft your fon, I fear, for ever: Milan and Naples have

More widows in them of this business' making,

Than we bring men to comfort them: 9

The fault's your own.

Alon. So is the deareft o' th' lofs.

Gon. My lord Sebastian,

The truth, you speak, doth lack fome gentleness,
And time to speak it in: you rub the fore,
When you fhould bring the plaifter.

Seb. Very well.

Ant. And moft chirurgeonly.

9 It does not clearly appear whether the King and thefe lords thought the fhip loft. This paffage feems to imply that they were themselves confident of returning, but imagined part of

the fleet deftroyed. Why, indeed, fhould Sebaftian plot againft his brother in the following Scene unless he knew how to find the kingdom which he was to inherit ?


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 fhould 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 oil;
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. Treafon, felony, Sword, pike, knife, gun, or need of any engine, Would I not have; but nature fhould bring forth, Of its own kind, all foyzon, all abundance To feed my innocent people.

Seb. No marrying 'mong his fubjects?

Ant. None, man; all idle; whores and knaves. Gon. I would with fuch perfection govern, Sir, T'excel the golden age.

Seb. Save his Majesty!

Ant. Long live Gonzalo !

1 The latter end of his common- ment, and the impracticable in

wealth forgets the beginning.] All this Dialogue is a fine Satire on the Utopian Treatifes of Govern

D 2

confiftent Schemes therein recommended. WARBURTON.


Gor. And do you mark me, Sir?

Alon. Pr'ythee no more; thou doft talk nothing to

[me. Gon. I do well believe your Highness; and did it to minifter occafion to thefe gentlemen, who are of such fenfible and nimble lungs, that they always ufe to laugh at nothing.

Ant. 'Twas you we laugh'd at.

Gon. Who, in this kind of merry fooling, am nothing to you: fo you may continue, and laugh at nothing ftill.

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 fphere, if she would continue in it five weeks without changing.

Enter Ariel, playing folemn Mufick.

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 fo 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 themfelves fhut up my thoughts: I find, They are inclin'd to do so.

Seb. Please you, Sir,

Do not omit the heavy offer of it:

It feldom vifits forrow; when it doth,

It is a comforter.

Ant. We two, my lord,

Will guard your perfon, while you take

And watch your fafety.

Ant Thank you: wond'rous heavy

your reft,

[All fleep but Seb. and Ant.

Seb. What a ftrange drowsiness poffeffes them?

Ant. It is the quality o' th' climate.


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Seb. Why

Doth it not then our eye-lids fink? I find not
Myfelf difpos'd to fleep.

What might,

An. Nor I, my fpirits are nimble : They fell together all as by consent, They dropt as by a thunder-stroke. Worthy Sebaftian-O, what mightAnd yet, methinks, I fee it in thy face,

no more.

What thou should'ft be: the occafion fpeaks thee, and My strong imagination fees a crown

Dropping upon thy head.

Seb. What, art thou waking?
Ant. Do you not hear me speak?

Sɛb. I do; and, furely,

It is a fleepy language; and thou fpeak'st

Out of thy fleep: what is it thou didst say?

This is a strange repofe, to be afleep

With eyes wide open: ftanding, fpeaking, moving; And yet so fast asleep.

Ant. Noble Sebaftian,

Thou let'st thy fortune fleep; die rather: wink'st,
Whilft thou art waking.

Seb. Thou doft fnore diftinctly;

There's meaning in thy fnores.

Ant. I am more ferious than my cuftom. You Muft be fo too, if heed me; which to do,

Trebles thee o'er.

Seb. Well: I am standing water.
Ant. I'll teach you how to flow.
Seb. Do fo: to ebb

Hereditary floth inftructs me.

Ant. O!

If you but knew, how you the purpofe cherish,
Whilft thus you mock it; how, in tripping it,
You more inveft it, ebbing men, indeed,

Most often do fo near the bottom run,

By their own fear or floth.

Seb. Pr'ythee, fay on;

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