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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:
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.