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Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard, Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel, Seeking the bubble reputation

Even in the cannon's mouth:

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In fair round belly, with good capon lined,
With eyes severe, and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances,
And so he plays his part.

The SIXTH AGE shifts
Into the lean and slipper'd PANTALOON;

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With spectacles on nose, and pouch on side;
His youthful hose well saved, a world too wide
For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
And whistles in its sound:

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and mere oblivion ; Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans every thing.

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Scene-The Sea, with a Ship; afterwards an uninhabited Island.

ACT I.

SCENE 1. On a Ship at Sea.

A Storm, with Thunder and Lightning. Enter a Shipmaster and a Boatswain. Mast. Boatswain,

Boats. Here, master: what cheer? Mast. Good: speak to the mariners: fall to 't yarely, or we run ourselves aground: bestir, bestir. [Exit

Enter Mariners.

Boats. Heigh, my hearts; cheerly, cheerly, my hearts; yare, yare: Take in the top-sail; Tend to the master's whistle-Blow till thon. burst thy wind, if room enough!

Enter Alonzo, Sebastian, Antonio, Ferdinand,
Gonzalo, and others.

Alon. Good boatswain, have care. Where's the master? Play the men.

Boats. I pray now, keep below.

Boats. Work you, then.

Ant. Hang, cur, hang! you whoreson, insolent no.se-maker, we are less afraid to be drowned than thou art.

Gon. I'll warrant him from drowning; though the ship were no stronger than a nut-shell, and as leaky as an unstanched wench.

courses; off to sea again, lay her off.
Boats. Lay her a-hold, a-hold; set her two
Enter Mariners, wet.

Mar. All lost! to prayers, to prayers! all lost!
[Exeunt

Boats. What, must our mouths be cold?
Gon. The king and prince at prayers! let us
assist them,
For our case is as theirs.

Seb. I am out of patience.
Ant. We are merely cheated of our lives by
drunkards.-

This wide-chapped rascal 'Would, thou
might'st lie drowning,
The washing of ten tides!
Gon.

He'll be hanged yet; la-Though every drop of water swear against it, And gape at wid'st to glut him.

Art. Where is the master, boatswain?
Boats. Do you not hear him? You mar our
bour; keep your cabins: you do assist the storm.
Gon. Nay, good, be patient.

Boats. When the sea is. Hence! What care
hese roarers for the name of king? To cabin:

silence: trouble us not.

Gon. Good; yet remember whom thou hast aboard.

A confused noise within.] Mercy on us!-We split, we split!-Farewell, my wife and children! -Farewell, brother!-We split, we split, we split.

SCENE II.

[Exit.

Ant. Let's all sink with the king. Seb. Let's take leave of him. Erit. Boats. None that I more love than myself. Gon. Now would I give a thousand furlongs You are a counsellor; if you can command these of sea for an acre of barren ground; long heath, elements to silence, and work the peace of the brown furze, any thing: The wills above be present, we will not hand a rope more; use done! but I would fain die a dry death. [Exit. your authority. If you cannot, give thanks you have lived so long, and make yourself ready in your cabin for the mischance of the hour, if it Bo hap. Cheerly, good hearts.-Out of our way, I say. [Exit. Gon. I have great comfort from this fellow: methinks, he hath no drowning mark upon him; Put the wild waters in this roar, allay them; his complexion is perfect gallows. Stand fast, The sky, it seems, would pour down stinking good fate, to his hanging! make the rope of his destiny our cable; for our own doth little advantage! If he be not born to be hanged, our [Exeunt.

case is miserable.

Re-enter Boatswain. Boats. Down with the topmast; yare; lower, lower; bring her to try with main course. [A cry within A plague upon this howling! they are louder than the weather, or our office.

Re-enter Sebastian, Autonio, and Gonzalo. Yet again? what do you here? Shall we give o'er, and drown? Have you a mind to sink? Seb. A pox o' your throat, you bawling, blasphemous, uncharitable dog!

The Island, before the Cell of Prospero. Mira. If by your art, my dearest father, you Enter Prospero and Miranda.

have

pitch,

But that the sea, mounting to the welkin's cheek,
Dashes the fire out. O, I have suffer'd
With those that I saw suffer! a brave vessel,
Who had no doubt some noble creatures in her,
Dash'd all to pieces. O, the cry did knock
Against my very heart! Poor souls! they perish'd.
Had I been any god of power, I would"
Have sunk the sea within the earth, or e'er
It should the good ship so have swallowed, and
The freighting souls within her.
Pro.
Be collected;
No more amazement: tell your piteous heart,
There's no harm done.
Mira.
O, wo the day!

Pro

No harm. Dost thou attend me?
Mira.

I have done nothing but in care of thee,
(of thee, my dear one! thee, my daughter!) who
Art ignorant of what thou art, nought knowing
Of whence I am; nor that I am more better
Than Prospero, master of a tuil poor cell,
And thy no greater father.

Mira.

More to know

Did never meddle with my thoughts.
Pro.

'Tis time, I should inform thee further. Lend thy hand, And pluck my magick garment from me -So; [Lays down his mantle. Lie there my art.-Wipe thou thine eyes; have comfort.

The direful spectacle of the wreck, which touch'd
The very virtue of compassion in thee,
I have with such provision in mine art
So safely order'd, that there is no soul-
No, not so much perdition as an hair,
Betid to any creature in the vessel

Sir, most heedfully
Pro. Being once perfected how to grant suits,
How to deny them; whom to advance, and whom
To trash for over-topping; new created
The creatures that were mine; I say, or chang'd
them,

Or else new-form'd them: having both the key
Of officer and office, set all hearts i' th' state
To what tune pleased his ear; that now he was
The ivy, which had hid my princely trunk,
And suck'd my verdure out on 't-Thon at-
tend'st not.

Mira. O, good sir, I do.
Pro.

I pray thee, mark me.
I thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicate
To closeness, and the bettering of
my mind
With that, which, but by being so retir'd,
O'er-prized all popular rate, in my false brother
Awak'd an evil nature: and my trust,
Like a good parent, did beget of him

Which thou heard'st cry, which thou saw'st sink. A falsehood, in its contrary as great

Sit down;

For thou must now know further.
Mira.
You have often
Begun to tell me what I am; but stopp'd
And left me to a bootless inquisition;
Concluding, Stay, not yet..
Pro.
The hour's now come;
The very minute bids thee ope thine ear;
Obey, and be attentive. Canst thou remember
A time before we came unto this cell?

I do not think thou canst; for then thou wast not
Out three years old.
Mira.

Certainly, sir, I can.
Pro. By what? by any other house, or person?
Of any thing the image tell me, that
Hath kept with thy remembrance.
Mira
"Tis far off;
And rather like a dream than an assurance
That my remembrance warrants: Had I not
Four or five women once, that tended me?
Pro. Thou had'st, and more, Miranda: But
how is it,

That this lives in thy mind? What seest thou else
In the dark backward and abysm of time?
If thou remember'st aught, ere thou cam'st here,
How thou cam'st here, thou may'st.
Mira.
But that I do not.

Pro. Twelve years since, Miranda, twelve
years since,

Thy father was the duke of Milan, and
A prince of power.

Mira. Sir, are not you my father?

Pro. Thy mother was a piece of virtue, and
She said-thou wast my daughter; and thy father
Was duke of Milan; and his only heir
A princess;-no worse issued.
Mira.
O, the heavens!
What foul play had we, that we came from
thence ?

Or blessed was 't, we did?
Pro.

Both, both, my girl:
By foul play, as thou say'st, were we heaved

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O, my heart bleeds To think o' the teen that I have turn'd you to, Which is from my remembrance! Please you, further.

As my trust was; which had, indeed, no limit,
A confidence sans bound. He being thus lorded,
Not only with what my revenue yielded,
But what my power might else exact,-like one,
Who having, unto truth, by telling of it,
Made such a sinner of his memory,

To credit his own lie,-he did believe
He was indeed the duke; out of the substitution,
And executing the outward face of royalty
With all prerogative:-Hence his ambition
Growing,-Dost hear?

Mira. Your tale, sir, would cure deafness.
Pro. To have no screen between this part he
play'd

And him he play'd it for, he needs will be
Absolute Milan: Me, poor man!-my library
Was dukedom large enough; of temporal roy-
alties

He thinks me now incapable: confederates
(So dry he was for sway) with the king of Naples,
To give him annual tribute, do him homage;
Subject his coronet to his crown, and bend
The dukedom, yet unbow'd, (alas, poor Milan !)
To most ignoble stooping.
Mira.
O the heavens!
Pro. Mark his condition, and the event; then
tell me,
If this might be a brother.
Mira.

I should sin

To think but nobly of my grandmother:
Good wombs have borne bad sons.

Pro.
Now the condition.
This king of Naples, being an enemy
To me inveterate, hearkens my brother's suit;
Which was, that he, in lieu o' the premises,-
Of homage, and I know not how much tribute,-
Should presently extirpate me and mine
Out of the dukedom; and confer fair Milan,
With all the honours, on my brother: Whereon,
A treacherous army levied, one midnight
Fated to the purpose, did Antonio open
The gates of Milan; and, i' the dead of darkness,
The ministers for the purpose hurried thence
Me, and thy crying self.
Mira.
Alack, for pity!
I, not rememb'ring how I cried out then,
Will cry it o'er again; it is a hint
That wrings mine eyes to 't.
Pro.
Hear a little further,
And then I'll bring thee to the present business
Which now 's upon us; without the which, this
story

Were most impertinent.
Mira.

Wherefore did they not

Pro. My brother, and thy uncle,call'd Antonio-
I pray thee, mark me,-that a brother should
Be so perfidious-he whom, next thyself,
Of all the world I loved, and to him put
The manage of my state; as, at that time,
Through all the signiories it was the first,
And Prospero the prime duke; being so reputed
In dignity, and, for the liberal arts,
Without a parallei; those being all my study,
The government I cast upon my brother,
And to my state grew stranger, being transported. (So dear the love my people bore me) nor set
And rapt in secret studies. Thy false uncle-A mark so bloody on the business; but

That hour destroy us?
Pro.

Well demanded, wench: My tale provokes that question. Dear, they

durst not;

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