**SEBASTIAN** What a strange drowsiness...

SEBASTIAN What a strange drowsiness possesses them!

ANTONIO It is the quality o' the climate.

SEBASTIAN Why

Doth it not then our eyelids sink? I find not

Myself disposed to sleep.

ANTONIO Nor I; my spirits are nimble.

They fell together all, as by consent;

They dropp'd, as by a thunder-stroke. What might,

Worthy Sebastian? O, what might?--No more:--

And yet methinks I see it in thy face,

What thou shouldst be: the occasion speaks thee, and

My strong imagination sees a crown

Dropping upon thy head.

SEBASTIAN What, art thou waking?

ANTONIO Do you not hear me speak?

SEBASTIAN I do; and surely

It is a sleepy language and thou speak'st

Out of thy sleep. What is it thou didst say?

This is a strange repose, to be asleep

With eyes wide open; standing, speaking, moving,

And yet so fast asleep.

ANTONIO Noble Sebastian,

Thou let'st thy fortune sleep--die, rather; wink'st

Whiles thou art waking.

SEBASTIAN Thou dost snore distinctly;

There's meaning in thy snores.

ANTONIO I am more serious than my custom: you

Must be so too, if heed me; which to do

Trebles thee o'er.

SEBASTIAN Well, I am standing water.

ANTONIO I'll teach you how to flow.

SEBASTIAN Do so: to ebb

Hereditary sloth instructs me.

ANTONIO O,

If you but knew how you the purpose cherish

Whiles thus you mock it! how, in stripping it,

You more invest it! Ebbing men, indeed,

Most often do so near the bottom run

By their own fear or sloth.

SEBASTIAN Prithee, say on:

The setting of thine eye and cheek proclaim

A matter from thee, and a birth indeed

Which throes thee much to yield.

ANTONIO Thus, sir:

Although this lord of weak remembrance, this,

Who shall be of as little memory

When he is earth'd, hath here almost persuade,--

For he's a spirit of persuasion, only

Professes to persuade,--the king his son's alive,

'Tis as impossible that he's undrown'd

And he that sleeps here swims.

SEBASTIAN I have no hope

That he's undrown'd.

ANTONIO 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 beyond,

But doubt discovery there. Will you grant with me

That Ferdinand is drown'd?

SEBASTIAN He's gone.

ANTONIO Then, tell me,

Who's the next heir of Naples?

SEBASTIAN Claribel.

ANTONIO She that is queen of Tunis; she that dwells

Ten leagues beyond man's life; she that from Naples

Can have no note, unless the sun were post--

The man i' the moon's too slow--till new-born chins

Be rough and razorable; she that--from whom?

We all were sea-swallow'd, though some cast again,

And by that destiny to perform an act

Whereof what's past is prologue, what to come

In yours and my discharge.

SEBASTIAN 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.

ANTONIO A space whose every cubit

Seems to cry out, 'How shall that Claribel

Measure us back 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 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 of as deep chat. O, that you bore

The mind that I do! what a sleep were this

For your advancement! Do you understand me?

SEBASTIAN Methinks I do.

ANTONIO And how does your content

Tender your own good fortune?

SEBASTIAN I remember

You did supplant your brother Prospero.

ANTONIO True:

And look how well my garments sit upon me;

Much feater than before: my brother's servants

Were then my fellows; now they are my men.

SEBASTIAN But, for your conscience?

ANTONIO Ay, sir; where lies that? if 'twere a kibe,

'Twould put me to my slipper: but I feel not

This deity in my bosom: twenty consciences,

That stand 'twixt me and Milan, candied be they

And melt ere they molest! Here lies your brother,

No better than the earth he lies upon,

If he were that which now he's like, that's dead;

Whom I, with this obedient steel, three inches of it,

Can lay to bed for ever; whiles you, doing thus,

To the perpetual wink for aye might put

This ancient morsel, this Sir Prudence, who

Should not upbraid our course. For all the rest,

They'll take suggestion as a cat laps milk;

They'll tell the clock to any business that

We say befits the hour.

SEBASTIAN Thy case, dear friend,

Shall be my precedent; as thou got'st Milan,

I'll come by Naples. Draw thy sword: one stroke

Shall free thee from the tribute which thou payest;

And I the king shall love thee.

ANTONIO Draw together;

And when I rear my hand, do you the like,

To fall it on Gonzalo.

SEBASTIAN O, but one word.

http://shakespeare.mit.edu/tempest/tempest.2.1.html