He receives comfort like cold porridge.

_Anto._ The visitor[395-2] will not give him o'er so.

_Sebas._ Look, he's winding up the watch of his wit; by-and-by it will
strike.

_Gonza._ Sir,--

_Sebas._ One:--tell.[395-3]

_Gonza._--When every grief is entertained that's offer'd,
Comes to the entertainer--

_Sebas._ A dollar.

_Gonza._ Dolour[395-4] comes to him, indeed; you have spoken truer than
you purposed.

_Sebas._ You have taken it wiselier than I meant you should.

_Gonza._ Therefore, my lord,--

_Anto._ Fie, what a spendthrift is he of his tongue!

_Alon._ I pr'ythee, spare me.

_Gonza._ Well, I have done: but yet--

_Sebas._ He will be talking.

_Anto._ Which, of he or Adrian,[395-5] for a good wager, first begins to
crow?

_Sebas._ The old cock.[395-6]

_Anto._ The cockerel.

_Sebas._ Done! The wager?

_Anto._ A laughter.

_Sebas._ A match![395-7]

_Adri._ Though this island seem to be desert,--

_Sebas._ Ha, ha, ha!--So, you're paid.[396-8]

_Adri._--uninhabitable, and almost inaccessible,--

_Sebas._ Yet--

_Adri._--yet--

_Anto._ He could not miss't.

_Adri._--it must needs be of subtle, tender, and delicate
temperance.[396-9]

_Anto._ Temperance was a delicate wench.[396-10]

_Sebas._ Ay, and a subtle; as he most learnedly delivered.

_Adri._ The air breathes upon us here most sweetly.

_Sebas._ As if it had lungs, and rotten ones.

_Anto._ Or as 'twere perfumed by a fen.

_Gonza._ Here is everything advantageous to life.

_Anto._ True; save means to live.

_Sebas._ Of that there's none, or little.

_Gonza._ How lush[396-11] and lusty the grass looks! how green!

_Anto._ The ground, indeed, is tawny.

_Sebas._ With an eye[396-12] of green in't.

_Anto._ He misses not much.

_Sebas._ No: he doth but mistake the truth totally.

_Gonza._ But the rarity of it is,--which is indeed almost beyond
credit,--

_Sebas._ As many vouch'd rarities are.

_Gonza._--that our garments, being, as they were, drenched in the sea,
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.

_Sebas._ 'Twas a sweet marriage, and we prosper well in our return.

_Adri._ Tunis was never graced before with such a paragon to[397-13]
their Queen.

_Gonza._ Not since widow Dido's time.[397-14]

_Anto._ Widow? a pox o' that! How came that widow in? Widow Dido!

_Sebas._ What if he had said widower