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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! |
ANTONIO: |
The ground indeed is tawny. |
SEBASTIAN: |
With an eye of green in't. |
ANTONIO: |
He misses not much. |
SEBASTIAN: |
No; he doth but mistake the truth totally. |
GONZALO: |
But the 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: |