A space, whose eu'ry cubit seemes to cry out

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neufer
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A space, whose eu'ry cubit seemes to cry out

Post by neufer » Thu May 06, 2021 5:05 pm

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. . . . The Tempest: Act 2 Scene 1

Gon. Me thinkes our garments are now as fresh as
. when we put them on first in Affricke, at the marriage
. of the kings faire daughter Claribel to the king of Tunis.

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Ant. Then tell me, who's the next heire of Naples?

Seb. Claribell.

Ant. She that is Queene of Tunis: she that dwels
. Ten leagues beyond mans life: she that from Naples
. Can haue no note, vnlesse the Sun were post:
. The Man i'th Moone's too slow, till new-borne chinnes
. Be rough, and Razor-able: She that from whom
. We all were sea-swallow'd, though some cast againe,
.(And by that destiny) to performe an act
. Whereof, what's past is Prologue; what to come
. In yours, and my discharge.


Seb. What stuffe is this? How say you?
. 'Tis true my brothers daughter's Queene of Tunis,
. So is she heyre of Naples, 'twixt which Regions
. There is some space.


Ant. A space, whose eu'ry cubit
. Seemes to cry out, how shall that Claribell
. Measure vs backe to Naples? keepe in Tunis,
. And let Sebastian wake. Say, this were death
. That now hath seiz'd them, why they were no worse
. Then now they are: There be that can rule Naples
. As well as he that sleepes: Lords, that can prate
. As amply, and vnnecessarily
. As this Gonzallo: I my selfe could make
. A Chough of as deepe chat: O, that you bore
. The minde that I do; what a sleepe were this
. For your aduancement? Do you vnderstand me?

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Art Neuendorffer