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Rh Gon. Me thinkes our garments are now as freſh as when we put them on firſt in Affricke, at the marriage of the kings faire daughter Claribel to the king of Tunis.

Seb. 'Twas a ſweet marriage, and we proſper well in our returne.

Adri. Tunis was neuer grac'd before with ſuch a Paragon to their Queene.

Gon. Not fince widdow Dido's time.

Ant. Widow? A pox o'that: how came that Widdow in? Widdow Dido!

Seb. What if he had ſaid Widdower Æneas too? Good Lord, how you take it?

Adri. Widdow Dido ſaid you? You make me ſtudy of that: She was of Carthage, not of Tunis.

Gon. This Tunis Sir was Carthage.

Adri. Carthage?

Ant. His word is more then the miraculous Harpe.

Seb. He hath rais'd the wall, and houſes too.

Ant. What impoſsible matter wil he make eaſy next?

Seb. I thinke hee will carry this Iſand home in his pocket, and giue it his fonne for an Apple.

Ant. And ſowing the kernels of it in the Sea, bring forth more Illands.

Gon. I. Ant. Why in good time.

Gon. Sir, we were talking, that our garments ſeeme now as freth as when we were at Tunis at the marriage of your daughter, who is now Queene.

Ant. And the rareft that ere came there.

Seb. Bate (I beſeech you) widdow Dido.

Ant. O Widdow Dido? I, Widdow Dido.

Gon. Is not Sir my doublet as freſh as the firſt day I wore it? I meane in a fort.

Ant. That ſort was well fiſh'd for.

Gon. When I wore it at your daughters marriage.

Alon. You cram theſe words into mine eares, againſt the ſtomacke of my ſenſe: would I had neuer Married my daughter there: For comming thence My ſonne is loſt, and (in my rate) ſhe too, Who is ſo farre from Italy removed, I ne're againe ſhall ſee her: O thou mine heire Of Naples and of Millaine, what ſtrange fiſh Hath made his meale on thee?

Fran. Sir he may liue, I saw him beate the ſurges vnder him, And ride vpon their backes; he trod the water Whoſe enmity he flung aſide: and breſted The ſurge moſt ſwolne that met him: his bold head 'Boue the contentious waues he kept. and oared Himſelfe with his good armes in luſty ſtroke To th'fhore; that ore his waue-worne baſis bowed As ſtooping to releeue him: I not doubt He came aliue to Land.

Alon. No, no, hee's gone.

Seb. Sir you may thank your ſelfe for this great loſſe, That would not bleſſe our Europe with your daughter, Bat rather looſe her to an Affrican , Where ſhe at leaſt, is baniſh'd from your eye, Who hath cauſe to wet the greefe on't.

Alon. Pre-thee peace.

Seb. You were kneel'd too, & importun'd otherwiſe By all of vs: and the faire ſoule her ſelfe Waigh'd betweene loathneſſe, and obedience, at Which end o’th'beame ſhould bow: we haue loſt your I feare for euer: Millaine and Naples haue Mo widdowes in them of this buſineſſe making, Then we bring men to comfort them: The faults your owne.

Alon. So is the deer'ſt oth'loſſe.

Gon. My Lord Sebaſtian, The truth you ſpeake doth lacke ſome gentleneſſe, And time to ſpeake it in: you rub the ſore, When you ſhould bring the plaiſter.

Seb. Very well.Ant. And moſt Chirurgeonly.

Gon. It is foule weather in vs all, good Sir, When you are cloudy.

Seb. Fowle weather?Ant. Very foule.

Gon. Had I plantation of this Iſle my Lord.

Ant. Hee'd ſow't vvith Nettle-ſeed.

Seb. Or dockes, or Mallowes.

Gon. And were the King on't, what vvould I do?

Seb. Scape being drunke, for want of Wine.

Gon. I'th'Commonwealth I vvould (by contraries) Execute all things: For no kinde of Trafficke Would I admit: No name of Magiſtrate: Letters ſhould not be knowne: Riches, pouerty, And vſe of ſeruice, none: Contract, Succeſsion , Borne, bound of Land, Tilth, Vineyard none: No vſe of Mettall, Corne, or Wine, or Oyle: No occupation, all men idle, all: And Women too, but innocent and pure: No Soueraignty.

Seb. Yet he vvould be King on't.

Ant. The latter end of his Common-wealth forgets the beginning.

Gon. All things in common Nature ſhould produce Without ſweat or endeuour: Treaſon, fellony, Sword, Pike, Knife, Gun, or neede of any Engine Would I not have: but Nature ſhould bring forth Of it owne kinde, all foyzon, all abundance To feed my innocent people.

Seb. No marrying 'mong his ſubiects?

Ant. None (man) all idle; Whores and knaues,

Gon. I vvould vvith ſuch perfection gouerne Sir: T'Excell the Golden Age.

Seb. 'Saue his Maieſty.Ant. Long liue Gonzalo.

Gon. And do you marke me, Sir?

Alon. Pre-thee no more: thou doſt talke nothing to

Gon. I do vvell beleeue your Highneſſe, and did it to miniſter occaſion to theſe Gentlemen, who are of ſuch ſenſible and nimble Lungs, that they alwayes vſe to laugh at nothing.

Ant. 'Twas you vve 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 vvas there giuen?

Seb. And it had not falne flat-long.

Gon. You are Gentlemen of braue mettal: you would lift the Moone out of her ſpheare, if ſhe would continue in it fiue weekes vvithout changing.

Seb. We vvould ſo, and then go a Bat-fowling.

Ant. Nay good my Lord, be not angry.

Gon. No I warrant you, I vvill not aduenture my diſcretion ſo weakly: Will you laugh me aſleepe, for I am very heauy.

Ant. Go ſleepe, and heare vs.

Alon. What, all ſo ſoone aſleepe? I wiſh mine eyes Would(with themſelues) ſhut vp my thoughts, I finde they are inclin'd to do ſo.

Seb. Pleaſe you Sir, Do not omit the heauy offer of it: It ſildome viſits ſorrow, when it doth, it is a Comforter. Ant.