Anto. O, out of that no hope
What great hope have you! no hope that way is
Another way so high a hope, that even
Ambition cannot pierce a wink[406-55] beyond—
But doubt discovery there.[406-56] Will you grant with me
That Ferdinand is drown’d?
Sebas. He’s gone.
Anto. Then, tell me,
Who’s the next heir of Naples?
Sebas. Claribel.
Anto. She that is queen of Tunis; she that dwells
Ten leagues beyond man’s life;[406-57] she that from Naples
Can have no note,[406-58] unless the Sun were post,—[406-59]
The Man-i’-the-moon’s too slow,—till new-born chins
Be rough and razorable. She ’twas for whom we
All were sea-swallow’d, though some cast again;[406-60]
And, by that destiny, to perform an act
Whereof what’s past is prologue; what to come[406-61]
In yours and my discharge.
Sebas. What stuff is this! How say you?
’Tis true, my brother’s daughter’s Queen of Tunis;
So is she heir of Naples; ’twixt which regions
There is some space.
Anto. A space whose every cubit
Seems to cry out, How shall thou, Claribel,
Measure us back[407-62] to Naples? Keep in Tunis,
And let Sebastian wake! Say, this were death
That now hath seized them; why, they were no worse
Than now they are. There be[407-63] that can rule Naples
As well as he that sleeps; lords that can prate
As amply and unnecessarily
As this Gonzalo: I myself could make
A chough[407-64] of as deep chat.[407-65] O, that you bore
The mind that I do! what a sleep were this
For your advancement! Do you understand me?
Sebas. Methinks I do.
Anto. And how does your content
Tender your own good fortune?[407-66]
Sebas. I remember
You did supplant your brother Prospero.