Enter certain Nymphs.

You sun-burn'd sicklemen, of August weary,
Come hither from the furrow, and be merry;
Make holy-day: your rye-straw hats put on,
And these fresh nymphs encounter every one
In country footing.

Enter certain Reapers, properly habited: they join with the Nymphs in a graceful dance; towards the end of which PROSPERO starts suddenly, and speaks; after which, to a strange, hollow, and confused noise, they heavily vanish.

Pro. [Aside.] I had forgot that foul conspiracy Of the beast Caliban, and his confederates, Against my life; the minute of their plot

Is almost come.-[To the Spirits.] Well done;avoid;-no more.

Fer. This is strange: your father's in some passion That works him strongly.

Mira.

Never till this day,
Saw I him touch'd with anger so distemper❜d.
Pro. You do look, my son, in a mov'd sort,
As if you were dismay'd: be cheerful, sir:
Our revels now are ended: these our actors,
As I foretold you, were all spirits, and
Are melted into air, into thin air:

And, like the baseless fabrick of this vision 15,

15 In the tragedy of Darius, by Lord Sterline, printed in 1603, is the following passage:

Let greatness of her glassy scepters vaunt

Not scepters, no, but reeds, soon bruised soon broken;

And let this worldly pomp our wits enchant,

All fades, and scarcely leaves behind a token.

Those golden palaces, those gorgeous halls,
With furniture superfluously fair,

Those stately courts, those sky-encountering walls,
Evanish all like vapours in the air."

The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve;
And, like this insubstantial pageant faded 16,
Leave not a rack 17 behind: We are such stuff
As dreams are made of, and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep.-Sir, I am vex'd;
Bear with

my weakness; my old brain is troubled. Be not disturb'd with my infirmity:

If you be pleas'd, retire into my cell,
And there repose; a turn or two I'll walk,
To still my beating mind.

Fer. Mira.

We wish your peace.

[Exeunt.

Pro. Come with a thought:-I thank you:

Ariel, come.

The preceding stanza also contains evidence of the same train of thought with Shakspeare.

"And when the eclipse comes of our glory's light,

Then what avails the adoring of a name?

A meer illusion made to mock the sight,

Whose best was but the shadow of a dream."

It is evident that one poet imitated the other, and it seems probable that Shakspeare was the imitator. The exact period at which the Tempest was produced is not known, but it is thought not earlier than 1611. It was first printed in the folio of 1623. Lord Sterline also wrote a tragedy entitled Julius Cæsar, in which there are parallel passages to some in Shakspeare's play on the same subject, and Malone thinks the coincidences more than accidental.

16 Faded, i. e. vanished, from the Latin vado. The ancient English pageants were shows, on the reception of princes or other festive occasions; they were exhibited on stages in the open air. On these allegorical spectacles very costly ornaments were bestowed. See Warton's Hist. of Poetry, ii. 199, 202, Fabian, ii. 382, and above all Mr. Gifford's Ben Jonson passim.

17 A vapour an exhalation. See Mr. Horne Tooke's admirable observation on this passage in the Diversions of Purley, Vol. ii. p. 388, 4to. ed.

Enter ARIEL.

Ari. Thy thoughts I cleave to: What's thy pleasure?
Pro.

Spirit,

We must prepare to meet 18 with Caliban.

Ari. Ay, my commander: when I presented Ceres, I thought to have told thee of it; but I fear'd, Lest I might anger thee.

Pro. Say again, where didst thou leave these varlets?

Ari. I told you, sir, they were red-hot with drinking; So full of valour, that they smote the air

For breathing in their faces; beat the ground
For kissing of their feet: yet always bending
Towards their project: then I beat my tabor,
At which, like unback'd colts, they prick'd their ears,
Advanc'd their eye-lids, lifted up their noses,
As they smelt music; so I charm'd their ears,
That, calf-like, they my lowing follow'd, through
Tooth'd briers, sharp furzes, pricking goss, and thorns,
Which enter'd their frail shins: at last I left them
I' the filthy mantled pool beyond your cell,
There dancing up to the chins, that the foul lake
O'er-stunk their feet.

Pro.

This was well done, my Thy shape invisible retain thou still:

The trumpery in my house, go, bring it hither,

For stale 19 to catch these thieves.

bird:

Ari.

I go, I go. [Exit.

18 To counteract, to play stratagem against stratagem.

19 Stale, in the art of fowling, signified a bait or lure to decoy

birds.

Pro. A devil, a born devil, on whose nature
Nurture 20
can never stick; on whom my pains,
Humanely taken, all, all lost, quite lost;

And as, with age, his body uglier grows,
So his mind cankers: I will plague them all,

Re-enter ARIEL loaden with glistering apparel, &c.
Even to roaring:-Come, hang them on this line.

PROSPERO and ARIEL remain invisible. Enter CALIBAN, STEPHANO, and TRINCULO; all wet. Cal. Pray you, tread softly, that the blind mole may not

Hear a foot fall: we now are near his cell.

Ste. Monster, your fairy, which, you say, is a harmless fairy, has done little better than play'd the Jack 21 with us.

Trin. Monster, I do smell all horse-piss; at which my nose is in great indignation.

Ste. So is mine.

Do you hear, monster? If I should take a displeasure against you; look you,— Trin. Thou wert but a lost monster.

Cal. Good my lord, give me thy favour still: Be patient, for the prize I'll bring thee to

Shall hood-wink this mischance; therefore, speak softly,

All's hush'd as midnight yet.

Trin. Ay, but to lose our bottles in the pool,— Ste. There is not only disgrace and dishonour in that, monster, but an infinite loss.

Trin. That's more to me than my wetting: yet this is your harmless fairy, monster.

Ste. I will fetch off my bottle, though I be o'er ears for my labour.

20 Nurture is Education, in our old language.
21 To play the Jack, was to play the Knave.

Cal. Pr'ythee, my king, be quiet: Seest thou here, This is the mouth of the cell: no noise, and enter: Do that good mischief, which may make this island Thine own for ever, and I, thy Caliban,

For aye thy foot-licker.

Ste. Give me thy hand: for I do begin to have bloody thoughts.

Trin. O king Stephano! O peer 22! O worthy Stephano! look, what a wardrobe here is for thee! Cal. Let it alone, thou fool: it is but trash.

Trin. O, ho, monster; we know what belongs to a frippery 23:—O king Stephano!

Ste. Put off that gown, Trinculo; by this hand, I'll have that gown.

Trin. Thy grace shall have it.

Cal. The dropsy drown this fool! what do you mean, To doat thus on such luggage? Let it alone 24, And do the murder first: if he awake,

From toe to crown he'll fill our skins with pinches; Make us strange stuff.

Ste. Be you quiet, monster.-Mistress line, is not this my jerkin? Now is the jerkin under the line: now, jerkin, you are like to lose your hair, and prove a bald jerkin.

Trin. Do, do: We steal by line and level, and't like your grace.

Ste. I thank thee for that jest; here's a garment for't: wit shall not go unrewarded, while I am king of this country: Steal by line and level, is an excellent pass of pate; there's another garment for❜t. Trin. Monster, come, put some lime 25 fingers, and away with the rest.

upon your

22 This is a humorous allusion to the old ballad "King Stephen was a worthy peer," of which Iago sings a verse in Othello.

23 A shop for the sale of old clothes.-Fripperie. FR. 24 The old copy reads-" Let's alone."

25 Bird-lime.