Page:Tempest (1918) Yale.djvu/66

The Tempest, III. iii

Alon. Old lord, I cannot blame thee,

Who am myself attach'd with weariness,

To the dulling of my spirits: sit down, and rest.

Even here I will put off my hope, and keep it

No longer for my flatterer: he is drown'd

Whom thus we stray to find; and the sea mocks

Our frustrate search on land. Well, let him go.

Ant. [Aside to Seb.] I am right glad that he's so out of hope.

Do not, for one repulse, forgo the purpose

That you resolv'd to effect.

Seb. [Aside to Ant.] The next advantage

Will we take throughly.

Ant. [Aside to Seb.] Let it be to-night;

For, now they are oppress'd with travel, they

Will not, nor cannot, use such vigilance

As when they are fresh.

Seb. [Aside to Ant.] I say to-night: no more.

Alon. What harmony is this? my good friends, hark!

Gon. Marvellous sweet music!

Alon. Give us kind keepers, heavens! What were these?

Seb. A living drollery. Now I will believe

That there are unicorns; that in Arabia

There is one tree, the phœnix' throne; one phœnix

 5 attach'd: attacked

14 throughly: thoroughly

17 S. d. top; cf. n.

21 drollery: puppet-show

