Alon. Old lord, I cannot blame thee,
Who am myself attach’d with[430-4] weariness,
To th’ 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[430-5] search on land. Well, let him go.
Anto. [Aside to Sebas.] I am right glad that he’s so out of hope.
Do not, for one repulse, forgo the purpose
That you resolved t’ effect.
Sebas. [Aside to Anto.] The next advantage
Will we take throughly.[430-6]
Anto. [Aside to Sebas.] Let it be to-night.
For, now they are oppress’d with travel, they
Will not, nor cannot, use such vigilance
As when they’re fresh.
Sebas. [Aside to Anto.] I say, to-night: no more. [Solemn and strange music.
Alon. What harmony is this? My good friends, hark!
Gonza. Marvellous sweet music!
Enter Prospero above, invisible. Enter, below, several strange Shapes, bringing in a Banquet: they dance about it with gentle actions of salutation; and, inviting the King, &c., to eat, they depart.
Alon. Give us kind keepers, Heavens!—
What were these?
Sebas. A living drollery.[431-7] Now I will believe
That there are unicorns; that in Arabia
There is one tree, the phœnix throne;[431-8] one phœnix
At this hour reigning there.