GONZALO.
Therefore, my lord, —
ANTONIO.
Fie, what a spendthrift is he of his tongue!
ALONSO.
I prithee, spare.
GONZALO.
Well, I have done: but yet —
SEBASTIAN.
He will be talking.
ANTONIO.
Which, of he or Adrian, for a good wager, first
begins to crow?
SEBASTIAN.
The old cock.
ANTONIO.
The cockerel.
SEBASTIAN.
Done. The wager?
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 it.
ADRIAN.
It must needs be of subtle, tender, and delicate
temperance.
ANTONIO.
Temperance was a delicate wench.
