Another part of the island.
[Enter ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, GONZALO,] [p]ADRIAN, FRANCISCO, and others]
GONZALO:
Beseech you, sir, be merry; you have cause,
So have we all, of joy; for our escape
Is much beyond our loss. Our hint of woe
Is common; every day some sailor's wife,
The masters of some merchant and the merchant 710
Have just our theme of woe; but for the miracle,
I mean our preservation, few in millions
Can speak like us: then wisely, good sir, weigh
Our sorrow with our comfort.ALONSO:
Prithee, peace.SEBASTIAN:
He receives comfort like cold porridge.ANTONIO:
The visitor will not give him o'er so.SEBASTIAN:
Look he's winding up the watch of his wit;
by and by it will strike.GONZALO:
Sir,—SEBASTIAN:
One: tell.GONZALO:
When every grief is entertain'd that's offer'd,
Comes to the entertainer—SEBASTIAN:
A dollar.GONZALO:
Dolour comes to him, indeed: you
have spoken truer than you purposed.SEBASTIAN:
You have taken it wiselier than I meant you should.GONZALO:
Therefore, my lord,—ANTONIO:
Fie, what a spendthrift is he of his tongue!ALONSO:
I prithee, spare.GONZALO:
Well, I have done: but yet,—SEBASTIAN:
He will be talking.ANTONIO:
Which, of he or Adrian, for a good
wager, first begins to crow?SEBASTIAN:
The old cock.ANTONIO:
The cockerel.SEBASTIAN:
Done. The wager?ANTONIO:
A laughter.SEBASTIAN:
A match!ADRIAN:
Though this island seem to be desert,—SEBASTIAN:
Ha, ha, ha! So, you're paid.ADRIAN:
Uninhabitable and almost inaccessible,—SEBASTIAN:
Yet,—ADRIAN:
Yet,—ANTONIO:
He could not miss't.ADRIAN:
It must needs be of subtle, tender and delicate
temperance.ANTONIO:
Temperance was a delicate wench.SEBASTIAN:
Ay, and a subtle; as he most learnedly delivered.ADRIAN:
The air breathes upon us here most sweetly.SEBASTIAN:
As if it had lungs and rotten ones.ANTONIO:
Or as 'twere perfumed by a fen.GONZALO:
Here is everything advantageous to life.ANTONIO:
True; save means to live.SEBASTIAN:
Of that there's none, or little.GONZALO:
How lush and lusty the grass looks! how green!
YOU ARE READING
The Tempest
General FictionThe Tempest is a play by William Shakespeare, probably written in 1610-1611, and thought to be one of the last plays that Shakespeare wrote alone. It is set on a remote island, where the sorcerer Prospero, rightful Duke of Milan, plots to restore hi...