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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 sphere, if he would continue in it five Weeks without changing.

Enter Ariel, playing folemn Mufick. (13)

Seb. We would fo, and then go a bat-fowling.
Ant. Nay, my good lord, be not angry.

Ι

Gon. No, I warrant you, I will not adventure my dif cretion fo weakly will you laugh me afleep, for I am very heavy?

Ant. Go, fleep, and hear us.

Alon. What all fo foon afleep? I wifh, mine eyes Would with themselves fhut up my thoughts: I find, They are inclin'd to fo do.

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 your reft,

And watch your fafety.

Alon. Thank you: wond'rous heavy.

All fleep but Seb. and Ant.

Seb. What a ftrange drowfinefs poffeffes them?

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

Seb. Why

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

Ant. Nor I, my fpirits are nimble:

They fell together all as by confent,

They dropt as by a thunder-ftroke. What might,

Worthy Sebaftian-O, what might

And yet, methinks, I fee it in thy face,

no more.

What thou should't be: th'occafion fpeaks thee, and

(13) Enter Ariel, playing] This Marginal Direction I have reftor'd from the Old Folio's; and, furely, 'tis very neceffary, it fhould be inferted; as it contains a Strain of Inchantment, which accounts for Gonzalo, Alonzo, &c. fo fuddenly dropping asleep.

My

My ftrong imagination fees a crown
Dropping upon thy head.fa
Seb. What, art thou waking?
Ant. Do you not hear me fpeak?
Seb. I do; and, furely, hyemal

It is a fleepy language; and thou speak'ft
Out of thy fleep: what is it thou didft say?
This is a ftrange repofe, to be afleep

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With eyes wide open: ftanding, fpeaking, moving, And yet fo faft afleep.

Ant. Noble Sebaftian,

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

Seb. Thou doft fnore diftinctly;

There's meaning in thy fnores.

Ant. I am more ferious than my cuftom. You
Must be so too, if heed me; which to do,
Trebles thee o'er. (14)))

Seb. Well: I am ftanding 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 purpose cherish,
Whilft thus you mock it; how, in ftripping it,
You more inveft it: ebbing men, indeed,

(14) Trebles thee o'er.] i. e. makes thee thrice what thou now art. Thus the two firft Folio's, and all the other Impreffions of any Authority, that I have seen, exhibit the Text: and the Phrafe is familiar both to our Poet, & other Stage-Writers of his Time. Merchant of Venice. Act. 3. Sc. 2. yet for You

I would be trebled twenty times my felf,

K. Richard III. A& 5. Sc. 3.

Why, our Battalion trebles that account.

So, Pericles, Prince of Tyres

The Boat-fwain whistles, and the Mafter calls,
And trebles their Confufion.

And fo, Marfon in his Sophonisba ;

Think, ev'ry Honour, that doth grace thy Sword,
Trebles my Love.

Troubles thee o'er

is a foolish Reading, which, I believe, firft got

Birth in Mr. Pope's 2 Editions of our Poet; and, I dare fay, will lie bu

ried there in a proper Obfcurity.

Moft

Most often do fo near the bottom run,
By their own fear or floth.

Seb, Pry'thee, fay on;

The fetting of thine eye and cheek proclaim
A matter from thee; and a birth, indeed,
Which throes thee much to yield.

Ant. Thus Sir:O TE HA

Although this lord of weak remembrance, this, (Who fhall be of as little memory,

t

When he is earth'd;) hath here almoft perfuaded
(For he's a fpirit of perfuafion, only

Profeffes to perfuade) the King, his fon's alive;
"Tis as impoffible that he's undrown'd,
As he, that fleeps here, fwims.

Seb. I have no hope,

That he's undrown'd.

Ant. O, out of that no hope,

What great hope have you? no hope, that way, is Another way fo high an hope, that even

Ambition cannot pierce a wink beyond,

But doubt discovery there. Will you grant, with me, That Ferdinand is drown'd?

Seb. He's gone.

Ant. Then tell me

Who's the next heir of Naples?

Seb. Claribel.

Ant. She that is Queen of Tunis; the that dwells Ten leagues beyond man's life; fhe that from Naples Can have no Note, unless the fun were poft, (The man i'th' moon's too flow) 'till new-born chins Be rough and razorable; fhe, from whom (15) We were fea-fwallow'd; tho' fome, caft again, May by that deftiny perform an act,

Whereof, what's paft is prologue; what to come,

(15)

She, for whom

We were fea-fwallow'd,] Thus Mr. Pope, with as little Reafon, as Au thority. All the Copies, that I have feen, read, from whom, &c.

And why not from? Were they not fhipwreck'd, as is evident above, in their Return from her? Would I had never

Married my Daughter there! for coming thence, &c.

Is

y discharge

Is yours and my difcharge

Seb. What ftuff is this? how fay you?

'Tis true, my brother's daughter's Queen of Tunis, So is the heir of Naples; 'twixt which regions There is fome space.

Ant. A fpace, whofe ev'ry cubit

Seems to cry out, how fhall that Claribel
Measure us back to Naples? Keep in Tunis,

And let Sebaftian wake. Say, this were death!

That now hath feiz'd them, why, they were no worfe Than now they are: there be, that can rule Naples, As well as he that fleeps; lords that can prate

As amply, and unneceffarily,

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As this Gonzalo; I my felf could make

A Chough of as deep chat. O, that you bore
The mind that I do; what a fleep 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,ung

You did fupplant your brother Profpe'ro.
Ant. True:

And, look, how well my garments fit upon me;
Much feater than before. My brother's fervants
Were then my fellows, now they are my men.
Seb. But, for your confcience,

Ant. Ay, Sir; where lyes that ?

If 'twere a kybe, 'twould put me to my flipper:
But I feel not this deity in my bofom.

Ten confciences, that ftand 'twixt me and Milan,
Candy'd be they, and melt, e'er they moleft!
Here lyes your brother

No better than the earth he lyes upon,

If he were that which now he's like, that's dead;
Whom I with this obedient fteel, three inches of it,
Can lay to bed for ever: you doing thus,
To the perpetual wink for ay might put
This ancient Morfel, this Sir Prudence, who
Should not upbraid our courfe. For all the reft,

They'll

They'll take fuggeftion, as a cat laps milk ;
They'll tell the clock to any business, that,
We fay, befits the hour.

Seb. Thy cafe, dear friend,

Shall be my precedent: as thou got'ft Milan,
I'll come by Naples. Draw thy fword; 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
To fall it on Gonzalo.

Seb. O, but one word.

Enter Ariel, with Mufick and Song:

Ari. My mafter through his art forefees the danger, friend, are in; and fends me forth

That you, his

(For else his project dies) to keep them living.

[Sings in Gonzalo's Ear.

While you here do fnoaring lye,

Open-ey'd confpiracy

His time doth take

If of life you keep a care,

Shake off flumber and boware:

Awake! awake!

Ant. Then let us both be fudden.

Gon. Now, good angels preferve the King! [They wake. Alon. Why, how now, ho? awake? why are you

drawn?

Wherefore this ghaftly looking?

Gon. What's the matter?

Seb. While we ftood here fecuring your repose,
Ev'n now we heard a hollow burft of bellowing
Like bulls, or rather lions; did't not wake you
It ftrook mine ear moft terribly.

Alon. I heard nothing.

Ant. O, 'twas a din to fright a monster's ear To make an earthquake: fure, it was the roar Of a whole herd of lions.

Alon. Heard you this?

VOL. L

D

Gon

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