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- ACT
TWO
THE
TEMPEST
SCENE ONE
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 fished 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 oar'd
Himself with his good arms in lusty stroke
To the shore, that o'er his wave-worn basis bow'd,
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,
But rather lose her to an African ;
Where she, at least, is banish'd from your eye.
Who hath cause to wet the grief on 't.
Alonso. Prithee, peace.
Sebastian. You were kneel'd to, and importuned otherwise,
By all of us ; and the fair soul herself
Weigh'd between loathness and obedience, at
Which end o' the beam should bow. We have lost yourson,
38
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