Act 2, Scene I - Page 2

rarity of it is,--which is indeed almost
beyond credit,--

SEBASTIAN
As many vouched rarities are.

GONZALO
That our garments, being, as they were, drenched in
the sea, hold notwithstanding their freshness and
glosses, being rather new-dyed than stained with
salt water.

ANTONIO
If but one of his pockets could speak, would it not
say he lies?

SEBASTIAN
Ay, or very falsely pocket up his report

GONZALO
Methinks our garments are now as fresh as when we
put them on first in Afric, at the marriage of
the king's fair daughter Claribel to the King of Tunis.

SEBASTIAN
'Twas a sweet marriage, and we prosper well in our return.

ADRIAN
Tunis was never graced before with such a paragon to
their queen.

GONZALO
Not since widow Dido's time.

ANTONIO
Widow! a pox o' that! How came that widow in?
widow Dido!

SEBASTIAN
What if he had said 'widower AEneas' too? Good Lord,
how you take it!

ADRIAN
'Widow Dido' said you? you make me study of that:
she was of Carthage, not of Tunis.

GONZALO
This Tunis, sir, was Carthage.

ADRIAN
Carthage?

GONZALO
I assure you, Carthage.

SEBASTIAN
His word is more than the miraculous harp; he hath
raised the wall and houses too.

ANTONIO
What impossible matter will he make easy next?

SEBASTIAN
I think he will carry this island home in his pocket
and give it his son for an apple.

ANTONIO
And, sowing the kernels of it in the sea, bring
forth more islands.

GONZALO
Ay.

ANTONIO
Why, in good time.

GONZALO
Sir, we were talking that our garments seem now
as fresh as when we were at Tunis at the marriage
of your daughter, who is now queen.

ANTONIO
And the rarest that e'er came there.

SEBASTIAN
Bate, I beseech you, widow Dido.

ANTONIO
O, widow Dido! ay, widow Dido.

GONZALO
Is not, sir, my doublet as fresh as the first day I
wore it? I mean, in a sort.

ANTONIO
That sort was well fished for.

GONZALO
When I wore it at your daughter's marriage?

ALONSO
You cram these words into mine ears against
The stomach of my sense. Would I had never
Married my daughter there! for, coming thence,
My son is lost and, in my rate, she too,
Who is so far from Italy removed
I ne'er again shall see her. O thou mine heir
Of Naples and of Milan, what strange fish
Hath made his meal on thee?

FRANCISCO
Sir, he may live:
I saw him beat the surges under him,
And ride upon their backs; he trod the water,
Whose enmity he flung aside, and