Alon. This is as strange a maze as e'er men trod And there is in this business more than nature Was ever conduct of: some oracle Must rectify our knowledge. Pro. Sir, my liege, Do not infest your mind with beating on The strangeness of this business; at pick'd leisure, Which shall be shortly, single I'll resolve you (Which to you shall seem probable,) of every These happen'd accidents; till when, be cheerful, And think of each thing well.-Come hither, spirit; [Aside. Set Caliban and his companions free: There are yet missing of your company : Seb. What things are these, my lord Antonio? Will money buy them? Ant. Very like; one of them Is a plain fish, and, no doubt, marketable. Pro. Mark but the badges of these men, my lords, Then say, if they be true: 2-This mis-shapen knave, His mother was a witch; and one so strong That could control the moon, make flows and ebbs, And deal her command, without her power: These three have robb'd me; and this demi-devil (For he's a bastard one,) had plotted with them (2) Honest. (1) Conductor. To take my life: two of these fellows you Find this grand liquor that hath gilded them?- Trin. I have been in such a pickle, since I saw you last, that, I fear me, will never out of my bones: I shall not fear fly-blowing. Seb. Why, how now, Stephano? Ste. O, touch me not; I am not Stephano, but a cramp. Pro. You'd be king of the isle, sirrah? Pro. He is as disproportion'd in his manners, Pro. Go to; away! Alon. Hence, and bestow your luggage where you found it. Seb. Or stole it, rather. [Exeunt Cal. Ste. and Trin. Pro. Sir, I invite your highness, and your train, To my poor cell where you shall take your rest For this one night; which (part of it) I'll waste With such discourse, as, I not doubt, shall make it Go quick away: the story of my life, And the particular accidents, gone by, Since I came to this isle: And in the morn, I'll bring you to your ship, and so to Naples, Where I have hope to see the nuptial Of these our dear-beloved solemniz'd; And thence retire me to my Milan, where Every third thought shall be my grave. Alon. I long To hear the story of your life, which must Take the ear strangely. Pro. I'll deliver all; And promise you calm seas, auspicious gales, And sail so expeditious, that shall catch Your royal fleet far off.-My Ariel ;-chick,— That is thy charge; then to the elements Be free, and fare thou well!-[aside] Please you draw near. [Exeunt. D EPILOGUE. Spoken by Prospero. NOW my charms are all o'erthrown, Which pierces so that it assaults As you from crimes would pardon'd be, It is observed of The Tempest, that its plan is regular; this the author of The Revisal thinks, what I think too, an accidental effect of the story, not intended or regarded by our author. But, whatever might be Shakspeare's intention in forming or adopting the plot, he has made it instrumental to the production of many characters, diversified with boundless invention, and preserved with profound skill in nature, extensive knowledge of opinions, and accurate observation of life. In a single drama are here exhibited princes, courtiers, and sailors, all speaking in their real characters. There is the agency of airy spirits, and of an earthly goblin; the operations of magic, the tumults of a storm, the adventures of a desert island, the native effusion of untaught affection, the punishment of (1) Applause: noise was supposed to dissolve a guilt, and the final happiness of the pair for whom spell. our passions and reasons are equally interested. JOHNSON. Valentine. Out-laws. Julia, a lady of Verona, beloved by Proteus. Silvia, the duke's daughter, beloved by Valentine. Lucetta, waiting-woman to Julia. Servants, musicians. Scene, Sometimes in Verona; sometimes in Milan; and on the frontiers of Mantua. If lost, why then a grievous labour won; Enter Or else a wit by folly vanquished. CEASE Pro. Wilt thou be gone? Sweet Valentine, adieu! Think on thy Proteus, when thou, haply, seest When thou dost meet good hap; and, in thy danger, If ever danger do environ thec, Val. And on a love-book pray for my success. Pro. Upon some book I love, I'll pray for thee. Val. That's on some shallow story of deep love, How young Leander cross'd the Hellespont. Pro. That's a deep story of a deeper love. For he was more than over shoes in love. Val. 'Tis true; for you are over boots in love, And yet you never swam the Hellespont. Pro. Over the boots? nay, give me not the boots.1 Val. No, I'll not, for it boots thee not. Pro. Val. What? To be In love, where scorn is bought with groans; coy looks, With heart-sore sighs; one fading moment's mirth, (1) A humorous punishment at harvest-home Leasts, &c. Pro. So, by your circumstance, you call me fool. Val. So, by your circumstance, I fear, you'll prove. Pro. Tis love you cavil at; I am not Love. Val. Love is your master, for he masters you: And he that is so yoked by a fool, Methinks should not be chronicled for wise. Pro. Yet writers say, As in the sweetest bud The eating canker dwells, so eating love Inhabits in the finest wits of all. Val. And writers say, As the most forward bud Is eaten by the canker ere it blow, Even so by love the young and tender wit Is turn'd to folly; blasting in the bud, Losing his verdure even in the prime, And all the fair effects of future hopes. But wherefore waste I time to counsel thee, That art a votary to fond desire? Once more adieu: my father at the road Expects my coming, there to see me shipp'd. Pro. And thither will I bring thee, Valentine. Val. Sweet Proteus, no; now let us take our leave. At Milan, let me hear from thee by letters, Pro. He after honour hunts, I after love: Speed. Twenty to one then, he is shipp'd already; | Speed. Sir, I could perceive nothing at all from her; no, not so much as a ducat for delivering your letter: and being so hard to me that brought your mind, I fear, she'll prove as hard to you in Speed. You conclude that my master is a shep-telling her mind. Give her no token but stones; herd then, and I a sheep? Pro. I do. Speed. Why then my horns are his horns, whether Pro. A silly answer, and fitting well a sheep. Pro. The sheep for fodder follow the shepherd, the shepherd for food follows not the sheep; thou for wages followest thy master, thy master for wages follows not thee: therefore, thou art a sheep. Speed. Such another proof will make me cry baa. Pro. But dost thou hear? gav'st thou my letter to Julia? Speed. Ay, sir: I, a lost mutton, gave your letter to her, a laced mutton; and she, a laced mutton, gave me, a lost mutton, nothing for my labour. Pro. Here's too small a pasture for such a store of muttons. Speed. If the ground be overcharged, you were best stick her. Pro. Nay, in that you are astray; 'twere best pound you. Speed. Nay, sir, less than a pound shall serve me for carrying your letter. Pro. You mistake; I mean the pound, a pinfold. Speed. From a pound to a pin? fold it over and letter. Speed. Well, I perceive, I must be fain to bear with you. Pro. Why, sir, how do you bear with me? Speed. Marry, sir, the letter very orderly; having nothing but the word, noddy, for my pains. Pro. Beshrew3 me, but you have a quick wit. Speed. And yet it cannot overtake your slow purse. Pro. Come, come, open the matter in brief: what said she? Speed. Open your purse, that the money, and the matter, may be both at once delivered. Pro. Well, sir, here is for your pains; what said she? Speed. Truly, sir, I think you'll hardly win her. from her? for she's as hard as steel. Pro. What, said she nothing? Speed. No, not so much as-take this for thy pains. To testify your bounty, I thank you, you have testern'd me; in requital whereof, henceforth carry your letters yourself; and so, sir, I'll commend you to my master. Pro. Go, go, begone, to save your ship from Which cannot perish, having thee aboard, SCENE II.-The same. Garden of Julia's house. Enter Julia and Lucetta. Jul. But say, Lucetta, now we are alone, I That every day with parle encounter me, According to my shallow simple skill. Jul. What think'st thou of the fair Sir Eglamour? Jul. What think'st thou of the rich Mercatio? Luc. Pardon, dear madam; 'tis a passing That I, unworthy body as am, Should censure thus on lovely gentlemen. Jul. Why not on Proteus, as of all the rest? Jul. Your reason? Luc. I have no other but a woman's reason; think him so, because I think him so. Jul. And would'st thou have me cast my love on him? Luc. Ay, if you thought your love not cast away. Jul. I would, I knew his mind. He would have given it you, but I, being in the way, (4) Given me a sixpence. Did in your name receive it; pardon the fault, I Jul. Now, by my modesty, a goodly broker!1 There, take the paper, see it be return'd; Jul. This babble shall not henceforth trouble me. Here is a coils with protestation ! [Tears the letter. Go, get you gone; and let the papers lie: You would be fingering them, to anger me. Luc. She makes it strange; but she would be best pleas'd To be so anger'd with another letter. [Exit. Jul. Nay, would I were so anger'd with the same! Luc. To plead for love deserves more fee than O hateful hands, to tear such loving words! hate. Jul. Will you be gone? Luc. That you may ruminate. [Exit. Jul. And yet, I would I had o'erlook'd the letter. It were a shame to call her back again, And pray her to a fault for which I chid her. What fool is she, that knows I am a maid, And would not force the letter to my view? Since maids, in modesty, say No, to that Which they would have the profferer construc, Ay. Fie, fie! how wayward is this foolish love, That, like a testy babe, will scratch the nurse, And presently, all humbled, kiss the rod ! How churlishly I chid Lucetta hence, When willingly I would have had her here! How angrily I taught my brow to frown, When inward joy enforc'd my heart to smile! My penance is, to call Lucetta back, And ask remission for my folly past:What ho! Lucetta! Re-enter Lucetta. Luc. Jul. Is it near dinner-time? Luc. What would your ladyship? I would it were: That you might kill your stomach2 on your meat, And not upon your maid. Jul. Jul. Nothing. What is't you took up Why didst thou stoop, then? Luc. To take a paper up that I let fall. Jul. And is that paper nothing? Luc. Nothing concerning me. Jul. Then let it lie for those that it concerns. Luc. Madam, it will not lie where it concerns, Unless it have a false interpreter. Jul. Some love of yours hath writ to you in rhyme. Luc. That I might sing it, madam, to a tune: Give me a note: your ladyship can set Jul. As little by such toys as may be possible: Best sing it to the tune of Light o' love. Luc. It is too heavy for so light a tune. Jul. Heavy? belike it hath some burden then. Luc. Ay; and melodious were it, would you sing it. Jut. And why not you? Luc. No, madam; it is too sharp. Luc. Nay, now you are too flat, And mar the concord with too harsh a descant;3 Injurious wasps! to feed on such sweet honey, I throw thy name against the bruising stones, And thus I search it with a sovereign kiss. Luc. Madam, dinner's ready, and your father Luc. What, shall these papers lie like tell-tales here? Jul. If you respect them, best to take them up. Luc. Nay, I was taken up for laying them down: Yet here they shall not lie, for catching cold. Jul. I see you have a month's mind to them. Luc. Ay, madam, you may say what sights you see; I see things too, although you judge I wink. Jul. Come, come, will't please you go? SCENE III.-The same. [Exeunt. A room in Antonio's house. Enter Antonio and Panthino. Ant. Tell me, Panthino, what sad talk was that, Wherewith my brother held you in the cloister? Pan. 'Twas of his nephew Proteus, your son. Ant. Why, what of him? Pan. He wonder'd, that your lordship A challenge. (6) Bustle, stir. (7) Since. |