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ALONSO. I prithee, spare. |
GONZALO. Well, I have done; but yet- |
SEBASTIAN. He will be talking. |
ANTONIO. Which, of he or Adrian, for a good wager, first |
begins to crow? |
SEBASTIAN. The old cock. |
ANTONIO. The cock'rel. |
SEBASTIAN. Done. The wager? |
ANTONIO. A laughter. |
SEBASTIAN. A match! |
ADRIAN. Though this island seem to be desert- |
ANTONIO. Ha, ha, ha! |
SEBASTIAN. So, you're paid. |
ADRIAN. Uninhabitable, and almost inaccessible- |
SEBASTIAN. Yet- |
ADRIAN. Yet- |
ANTONIO. He could not miss't. |
ADRIAN. It must needs be of subtle, tender, and delicate |
temperance. |
ANTONIO. Temperance was a delicate wench. |
SEBASTIAN. Ay, and a subtle; as he most learnedly |
deliver'd. |
ADRIAN. The air breathes upon us here most sweetly. |
SEBASTIAN. As if it had lungs, and rotten ones. |
ANTONIO. Or, as 'twere perfum'd by a fen. |
GONZALO. Here is everything advantageous to life. |
ANTONIO. True; save means to live. |
SEBASTIAN. Of that there's none, or little. |
GONZALO. How lush and lusty the grass looks! how green! |
ANTONIO. The ground indeed is tawny. |
SEBASTIAN. With an eye of green in't. |
ANTONIO. He misses not much. |
SEBASTIAN. No; he doth but mistake the truth totally. |
GONZALO. But the rarity of it is, which is indeed almost |
beyond credit- |
SEBASTIAN. As many vouch'd rarities are. |
GONZALO. That our garments, being, as they were, drench'd |
in the sea, hold, notwithstanding, their freshness and |
glosses, being rather new-dy'd, than stain'd with salt |
water. |
ANTONIO. If but one of his pockets could speak, would it |
not say he lies? |
SEBASTIAN. Ay, or very falsely pocket up his report. |
GONZALO. 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. |
SEBASTIAN. 'Twas a sweet marriage, and we prosper well in |
our return. |
ADRIAN. Tunis was never grac'd before with such a paragon |
to their queen. |
GONZALO. Not since widow Dido's time. |
ANTONIO. Widow! a pox o' that! How came that 'widow' |
in? Widow Dido! |
SEBASTIAN. What if he had said 'widower Aeneas' too? |
Good Lord, how you take it! |
ADRIAN. 'Widow Dido' said you? You make me study of |
that. She was of Carthage, not of Tunis. |
GONZALO. This Tunis, sir, was Carthage. |
ADRIAN. Carthage? |
GONZALO. I assure you, Carthage. |
ANTONIO. His word is more than the miraculous harp. |
SEBASTIAN. He hath rais'd the wall, and houses too. |
ANTONIO. What impossible matter will he make easy next? |
SEBASTIAN. I think he will carry this island home in his |
pocket, and give it his son for an apple. |
ANTONIO. And, sowing the kernels of it in the sea, bring |
forth more islands. |
GONZALO. Ay. |
ANTONIO. Why, in good time. |
GONZALO. 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. |
ANTONIO. And the rarest that e'er came there. |
SEBASTIAN. Bate, I beseech you, widow Dido. |
ANTONIO. O, widow Dido! Ay, widow Dido. |
GONZALO. Is not, sir, my doublet as fresh as the first day I |
wore it? I mean, in a sort. |
ANTONIO. That 'sort' was well fish'd for. |
GONZALO. When I wore it at your daughter's marriage? |
ALONSO. 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 son is lost; and, in my rate, she too, |
Who is so far from Italy removed |
I ne'er again shall see her. O thou mine heir |
Of Naples and of Milan, what strange fish |
Hath made his meal on thee? |
FRANCISCO. Sir, he may live; |
I saw him beat the surges under him, |
And ride upon their backs; he trod the water, |
Whose enmity he flung aside, and breasted |
The surge most swoln that met him; his bold head |
'Bove the contentious waves he kept, and oared |
Himself with his good arms in lusty stroke |
To th' shore, that o'er his wave-worn basis bowed, |
As stooping to relieve him. I not doubt |
He came alive to land. |
ALONSO. No, no, he's gone. |
SEBASTIAN. Sir, you may thank yourself for this great loss, |
That would not bless our Europe with your daughter, |
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