Page:Tempest (1918) Yale.djvu/42

The Tempest, II. i

Would I not have; but nature should bring forth,

Of it own kind, all foison, all abundance,

To feed my innocent people.

Seb. No marrying 'mong his subjects?

Ant. None, man; all idle; whores and knaves.

Gon. I would with such perfection govern, sir,

To excel the golden age.

Seb. 'Save his majesty!

Ant. Long live Gonzalo!

Gon. And,—do you mark me, sir?

Alon. Prithee, no more: thou dost talk

nothing to me.

Gon. I do well believe your highness; and

did it to minister occasion to these gentlemen,

who are of such sensible and nimble lungs that

they always use to laugh at nothing.

Ant. 'Twas you we laugh'd at.

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 given!

Seb. An it had not fallen flat-long.

Gon. You are gentlemen of brave mettle:

you would lift the moon out of her sphere,

if she would continue in it five weeks without

changing.

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 adventure

 170 it: its

foison: plenty

181 sensible: sensitive

nimble: easily excited

188 An: if

flat-long: flat (a blow struck with the flat of a sword)

189 mettle: temper

190 out of her sphere; cf. n.

193 a-bat-fowling: bird hunting at night

195 adventure: risk

