Shakespeare's First Folio Part 8

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 giuen?

Seb. And it had not falne flat-long

Gon. You are Gentlemen of braue mettal: you would lift the Moone out of her spheare, if she would continue in it fiue weekes without changing.

Enter Ariell playing solemne Musicke.

Seb. We would so, and then go a Bat-fowling

Ant. Nay good my Lord, be not angry

Gon. No I warrant you, I will not aduenture my discretion so weakly: Will you laugh me asleepe, for I am very heauy

Ant. Go sleepe, and heare vs

Alon. What, all so soone asleepe? I wish mine eyes Would (with themselues) shut vp my thoughts, I finde they are inclin'd to do so

Seb. Please you Sir, Do not omit the heauy offer of it: It sildome visits sorrow, when it doth, it is a Comforter

Ant. We two my Lord, will guard your person, While you take your rest, and watch your safety

Alon. Thanke you: Wondrous heauy

Seb. What a strange drowsines possesses them?

Ant. It is the quality o'th' Clymate

Seb. Why Doth it not then our eye-lids sinke? I finde Not my selfe dispos'd to sleep

Ant. Nor I, my spirits are nimble: They fell together all, as by consent They dropt, as by a Thunder-stroke: what might Worthy Sebastian? O, what might? no more: And yet, me thinkes I see it in thy face, What thou should'st be: th' occasion speaks thee, and My strong imagination see's a Crowne Dropping vpon thy head

Seb. What? art thou waking?

Ant. Do you not heare me speake?

Seb. I do, and surely It is a sleepy Language; and thou speak'st Out of thy sleepe: What is it thou didst say?

This is a strange repose, to be asleepe With eyes wide open: standing, speaking, mouing: And yet so fast asleepe

Ant. n.o.ble Sebastian, Thou let'st thy fortune sleepe: die rather: wink'st Whiles thou art waking

Seb. Thou do'st snore distinctly, There's meaning in thy snores

Ant. I am more serious then my custome: you Must be so too, if heed me: which to do, Trebbles thee o're

Seb. Well: I am standing water

Ant. Ile teach you how to flow

Seb. Do so: to ebbe Hereditary Sloth instructs me

Ant. O!

If you but knew how you the purpose cherish Whiles thus you mocke it: how in stripping it You more inuest it: ebbing men, indeed (Most often) do so neere the bottome run By their owne feare, or sloth

Seb. 'Pre-thee say on, The setting of thine eye, and cheeke proclaime A matter from thee; and a birth, indeed, Which throwes thee much to yeeld

Ant. Thus Sir: Although this Lord of weake remembrance; this Who shall be of as little memory When he is earth'd, hath here almost perswaded (For hee's a Spirit of perswasion, onely Professes to perswade) the King his sonne's aliue, 'Tis as impossible that hee's vndrown'd, As he that sleepes heere, swims

Seb. I haue no hope That hee's vndrown'd

Ant. O, out of that no hope, What great hope haue you? No hope that way, Is Another way so high a hope, that euen Ambition cannot pierce a winke beyond But doubt discouery there. Will you grant with me That Ferdinand is drown'd

Seb. He's gone

Ant. Then tell me, who's the next heire of Naples?

Seb. Claribell

Ant. She that is Queene of Tunis: she that dwels Ten leagues beyond mans life: she that from Naples Can haue no note, vnlesse the Sun were post: The Man i'th Moone's too slow, till new-borne chinnes Be rough, and Razor-able: She that from whom We all were sea-swallow'd, though some cast againe, (And by that destiny) to performe an act Whereof, what's past is Prologue; what to come In yours, and my discharge

Seb. What stuffe is this? How say you?

'Tis true my brothers daughter's Queene of Tunis, So is she heyre of Naples, 'twixt which Regions There is some s.p.a.ce

Ant. A s.p.a.ce, whose eu'ry cubit Seemes to cry out, how shall that Claribell Measure vs backe to Naples? keepe in Tunis, And let Sebastian wake. Say, this were death That now hath seiz'd them, why they were no worse Then now they are: There be that can rule Naples As well as he that sleepes: Lords, that can prate As amply, and vnnecessarily As this Gonzallo: I my selfe could make A Chough of as deepe chat: O, that you bore The minde that I do; what a sleepe were this For your aduancement? Do you vnderstand me?

Seb. Me thinkes I do

Ant. And how do's your content Tender your owne good fortune?

Seb. I remember You did supplant your Brother Prospero

Ant. True: And looke how well my Garments sit vpon me, Much feater then before: My Brothers seruants Were then my fellowes, now they are my men

Seb. But for your conscience

Ant. I Sir: where lies that? If 'twere a kybe 'Twould put me to my slipper: But I feele not This Deity in my bosome: 'Twentie consciences That stand 'twixt me, and Millaine, candied be they, And melt ere they mollest: Heere lies your Brother, No better then the earth he lies vpon, If he were that which now hee's like (that's dead) Whom I with this obedient steele (three inches of it) Can lay to bed for euer: whiles you doing thus, To the perpetuall winke for aye might put This ancient morsell: this Sir Prudence, who Should not vpbraid our course: for all the rest They'l take suggestion, as a Cat laps milke, They'l tell the clocke, to any businesse that We say befits the houre

Seb. Thy case, deere Friend Shall be my president: As thou got'st Millaine, I'le come by Naples: Draw thy sword, one stroke Shall free thee from the tribute which thou paiest, And I the King shall loue thee

Ant. Draw together: And when I reare my hand, do you the like To fall it on Gonzalo

Seb. O, but one word.

Enter Ariell with Musicke and Song.

Ariel. My Master through his Art foresees the danger That you (his friend) are in, and sends me forth (For else his proiect dies) to keepe them liuing.

Sings in Gonzaloes eare.