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. 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 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 It is a fleepy language; and thou speak'ft 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, Seb. Thou doft fnore diftinctly; There's meaning in thy fnores. Ant. I am more ferious than my cuftom. You Seb. Well: I am ftanding water. Hereditary floth inftructs me. If you but knew, how you the purpose cherish, (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 fo, Marfon in his Sophonisba ; Think, ev'ry Honour, that doth grace thy Sword, 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, Seb, Pry'thee, fay on; The fetting of thine eye and cheek proclaim 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 Profeffes to perfuade) the King, his fon's alive; 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 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, As this Gonzalo; I my felf could make A Chough of as deep chat. O, that you bore Ant. And how does your content Seb. I remember,ung You did fupplant your brother Profpe'ro. And, look, how well my garments fit upon me; Ant. Ay, Sir; where lyes that ? If 'twere a kybe, 'twould put me to my flipper: Ten confciences, that ftand 'twixt me and Milan, No better than the earth he lyes upon, If he were that which now he's like, that's dead; They'll They'll take fuggeftion, as a cat laps milk ; Seb. Thy cafe, dear friend, Shall be my precedent: as thou got'ft Milan, Ant. Draw together: And when I rear my hand, do you the like 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, 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 |