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- ACT TWO THE TEMPEST SCENE ONE
Be rough and razorable; she that from whom
We all were sea-swallow'd, though some cast again,
And by that destiny, to perform an act
Whereof what 's past is prologue ; what to come,
In yours and my discharge.
Sebastian. What stuff is this ! how say you ?
Tis true, my brother's daughter 's queen of Tunis ;
So is she heir of Naples ; 'twixt which regions
There is some space.
Antonio. A space whose every cubit
Seems to cry out, 'How shall that Claribel
Measure us back to Naples? Keep in Tunis,
And let Sebastian wake.' Say, this were death
That now hath seized them ; why, they were no worse
Than now they are. There be that can rule Naples
As well as he that sleeps ; lords that can prate
As amply and unnecessarily
As this Gonzalo ; I myself could make
A chough of as deep chat. O, that you bore
The mind that I do 1 what a sleep were this
For your advancement ! Do you understand me ?
Sebastian. Methinks I do.
Antonio. And how does your content
Tender your own good fortune ?
Sebastian. I remember
You did supplant your brother Prosper©.
Antonio. True :
And look how well my garments sit upon me ;
Much feater than before : my brother's servants
Were then my fellows ; now they are my men.
Sebastian. But, for your conscience.
Antonio. Ay, sir; where lies that? if 'twere a kibe
Twould put me to my slipper: but I feel not
This deity in my bosom : twenty consciences,
That stand 'twixt me and Milan, candied be they.
And melt, ere they molest ! Here lies your brother,
No better than the earth he lies upon.
If he were that which now he 's like, that 's dead ;
Whom I, with this obedient steel, three inches of it,
Can lay to bed for ever ; whiles you, doing thus
To the perpetual wink for aye might put
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