SEBASTIAN Look, he’s winding up the watch of his wit; by and by it will strike—
GONZALO [to Alonso] Sir—
SEBASTIAN One. Tell.
GONZALO When every grief is entertained that’s offered, comes to th’entertainer—
SEBASTIAN A dollar.
GONZALO Dolour comes to him, indeed. You have spoken truer than you purposed.
SEBASTIAN You have taken it wiselier than I meant you should.
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. (2.1.14-29)
Sebastian’s cruel comment about Gonzalo winding up the watch of his wits uggests that Gonzalo’s wit, his intelligence and learning as well as (if not more than) his way with words is mechanical, formulaic, and laboured, requiring effort for the payoff, the strike. (Pocket-watches, especially ones which struck the hour, were still an expensive novelty.) When Gonzalo starts again, it’s as if the clock has struck one (as Sebastian continues); by adding tell, he’s suggesting that someone – he or Antonio – keep count (to tell here is to count, not to say something) because Gonzalo is sure to keep going. Gonzalo is trying a slightly different approach, suggesting that not every grief needs to be entertained, that is, responded to or felt – given house-room, or given the time of day, might be one idiom – because not all griefs are equal, or worth it. But Sebastian is still thinking partly in terms of counting in his mockingly obtuse, sarcastic misinterpretations of what Gonzalo says, and here specifically of paying a fee to an entertainer, a dollar (a thaler was a German coin, known in England as a dollar). Gonzalo is quicker than Sebastian, however, punning on dollar and dolour, meaning sorrow. You have spoken truer than you purposed, you say more than you meant – he could be being benign and generous – you’re listening to what I’m saying, you’re adding your own bit – or it could be more knowing, Gonzalo being sarcastic right back; even though you think you’re mocking me, you’ve inadvertently said something sensible. Sebastian isn’t having any of that – you have taken it wiselier than I meant you should – unlike you, I’m not trying to be clever, I’m not listening to you, this is all pointless. But Gonzalo keeps going, addressing himself doggedly to Alonso – Therefore, my lord – and Antonio jumps in again, describing Gonzalo as a spendthrift with his speech (picking up on dollar/dolour, continuing the financial conceit) – Gonzalo is giving away words for free, no one is listening, he won’t get much of a return on his large outlay of philosophical consolation. And Alonso, again, please, spare, stop. I’ve done, says Gonzalo, no more to say. But yet – he will be talking, adds Sebastian – he will yet be talking, he is going to keep on talking and talking and talking.
It’s worth being reminded that Antonio is Prospero’s brother, the usurping Duke of Milan – but he hasn’t yet been named aloud. So far as the audience knows, without the benefit of speech prefixes, and relying on costume and performance, Antonio and Sebastian are just two narky courtiers.
