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Pro. I am wo* for't, Sir.

I chose her, when I could not ask my father

Alon. Irreparable is the loss; and Patience For his advice; nor thought I had one: she Is daughter to this famous duke of Milan, Of whom so often I have heard renown,

Says, it is past her cure.

Pro. I rather think,

You have not sought her help; of whose soft But never saw before; of whom I have

grace,

For the like loss, I have her sovereign aid,
And rest myself content.

Alon. You the like loss?

Pro. As great to me, as late; and, portablet To make the dear loss, have I means much weaker

Than you may call to comfort you; for I
Have lost my daughter.

Alon. A daughter?

O heavens! that they were living both in Naples, [I wish The king and queen there! that they were, Myself were mudded in that oozy bed Where my son lies. When did you lose your daughter?

Pro. In this last tempest. I perceive, these lords

At this encounter do so much admire,
That they devour their reason; and scarce think
Their eyes do offices of truth, their words
Are natural breath: but howsoe'er you have
Been justled from your senses, know for
certain,

That I am Prospero, and that very duke Which was thrust forth of Milan; who most strangely

[landed, Upon this shore, where you were wreck'd, was To be the lord on't. No more yet of this; For 'tis a chronicle of day by day, Not a relation for a breakfast, nor Befitting this first meeting. Welcome, Sir; This cell's my court: here have I few attend

ants,

And subjects none abroad: pray you, look in.
My dukedom since you have given me again,
I will requite you with as good a thing;
At least, bring forth a wonder, to content ye,
As much as me my dukedom.

The entrance of the cell opens,and discovers FER-
DINAND and MIRANDA playing at chess.
Mira. Sweet lord, you play me false.
Fer. No, my dearest love,

I would not for the world.

Received a second life, and second father This lady makes him to me.

Alon. I am her's:

But O, how oddly will it sound, that I
Must ask my child forgiveness!

Pro. There, Sir, stop:

Let us not burden our remembrances
With a heaviness that's gone.

Gon. I have inly wept,

Or should have spoken, ere this. Look down, you gods,

And on this couple drop a blessed crown;
For it is you, that have chalk'd forth the way
Which brought us hither!

Alon. I say, Amen, Gonzalo !

Gon. Was Milan thrust from Milan, that his issue

Should become kings of Naples? O, rejoice
Beyond a common joy; and set it down
With gold on lasting pillars: In one voyage
Did Claribel her husband find at Tunis ;
And Ferdinand, her brother, found a wife,
Where he himself was lost; Prospero his duke-
In a poor isle; and all of us, ourselves, [dom,
When no man was his own.*

Alon. Give me your hands:

[To FER. and MIR.
Let grief and sorrow still embrace his heart,
That doth not wish you joy!
Gon. Be't so! Amen!

Re-enter ARIEL, with the MASTER and Boat-
O look, Sir, look, Sir; here are more of us!
SWAIN amazedly following.
I prophesied, if a gallows were on land,
This fellow could not drown:-Now, blas-
[shore?
That swear'st grace o'erboard, not an oath on
Hast thou no mouth by land? What is the
news?

phemy,

Boats. The best news is, that we have safely found

Our king, and company: the next our ship,Which, but three glasses since, we gave out split,

Mira. Yes, for a score of kingdoms you Is tight and yare,t and bravely rigged, as when

should wrangle,

And I would call it fair play.

Alon. If this prove

Ari. Sir, all this service

We first put out to sea.

Have I done since I went.

Pro. My tricksy spirit!

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[Aside. [Aside.

Alon. These are not natural events; they

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Boats. If I did think, Sir, I were well awake, I'd strive to tell you. We were dead of sleep, And, (how, we know not,) all clapp'd under [noises

hatches,
Where, but even now, with strange and several
Of roaring, shrieking, howling, gingling chains,
And more diversity of sounds, all horrible,
We were awak'd; straitway, at liberty:
Where we, in all her trim, freshly beheld
Our royal, good, and gallant ship; our master
Cap'ring to eye her: On a trice, so please you,
Even in a dream, were we divided from them,
And were brought moping hither.

Ari. Was't well done?
Pro. Bravely, my diligence.
free.

In his senses. † Ready.

[Aside. Thou shalt be [Aside. Clever, adroit.

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 : Untie the spell. [Exit ARIEL.] How fares my gracious Sir?

There are yet missing of your company Some few odd lads, that you remember not. Re-enter ARIEL, driving in CALIBAN, STEPHANO, and TRINCULO, in their stolen apparel. Ste. Every man shift for all the rest, and let no man take care for himself; for all is but fortune:-Coragio, bully-monster, Coragio! Trin. If these be true spies which I wear in my head, here's a goodly sight.

Cal. O Setebos, these be brave spirits, inHow fine my master is! I am afraid [deed! He will chastise me.

Seb. Ha, ha;

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, [knave, Then say, if they be true :t-This misshapen His mother was a witch; and one so strong That could control the moon, make flows and ebbs,

And deal in 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 To take my life: two of these fellows you Must know, and own: this thing of darkness I Acknowledge mine.

Cal. I shall be pinch'd to death.

Alon. Is not this Stephano, my drunken
butler?

Seb. He is drunk now: Where had he wine?
Alon. And Trinculo is reeling ripe: Where

should they

Find this grand liquor that hath gilded them?— How cam'st thou in this pickle?

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? Ste. I should have been a sore one then. * Conductor. † Honest.

Alon. This is as strange a thing as e'er I look'd on. [Pointing to CALiban. Pro. He is as disproportion'd in his manners, As in his shape,-Go, sirrah, to my cell; Take with you your companions; as you look To have my pardon, trim it handsomely.

Cal. Ay, that I will; and I'll be wise here-
after,

And seek for grace: What a thrice-double ass
Was I, to take this drunkard for a god,
And worship this dull fool?
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,

[it

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
Go quick away: the story of my life,
Since I came to this isle: And in the morn,
And the particular accidents, gone by,
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
That is thy charge; then to the elements
Your royal fleet far off.-My Ariel :-chick,-
Be free, and fare thou well!-[Aside.] _Please
you, draw near.
Exeunt.

EPILOGUE.

SPOKEN BY PROSPERO. Now my charms are all o'erthrown, And what strength I have's mine own; Which is most faint: now, 'tis true, I must be here confin'd by you, Or sent to Naples: Let me not, Since I have my dukedom got, And pardon'd the deceiver, dwell In this bare island, by your spell; But release me from my bands, With the help of your good hands.* Gentle breath of yours my sails Must fill, or else my project fails, Which was to please: Now I want Spirits to enforce, art to enchant ; And my ending is despair, Unless I be reliev'd by prayer! Which pierces so, that it assaults Mercy itself, and frees all faults. As you from crimes would pardon'd be, Let your indulgence set me free.

* Applause: noise was supposed to dissolve a spell.

VOL. 1.

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ACT I.

SCENE I.-An open place in Verona.

Enter VALENTINE and PROTEUS.
Val. Cease to persuade, my loving Proteus;
Home-keeping youth have ever homely wits:
Wer't not, affection chains thy tender days
To the sweet glances of thy honour'd love,
I rather would entreat thy company,
To see the wonders of the world abroad,
Than living dully sluggardiz'd at home,
Wear out thy youth with shapeless idleness.
But, since thou lov'st, love still, and thrive
therein,

Even, as I would, when I to love begin.

Pro. Wilt thou be gone? Sweet Valentine,

adieu !

Think on thy Proteus, when thou, haply, seest
Some rare note-worthy object in thy travel:
Wish me partaker in thy happiness,
When thou dost meet good hap; and, in thy
If ever danger do environ thee, [danger,
Commend thy grievance to my holy prayers,
For I will be thy beadsman, Valentine.

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.*

Val. No, I'll not, for it boots thee not.
Pro. What?

Val. To be

In love, where scorn is bought with groans;

coy looks,

With heart-sore sighs; one fading moment's
mirth,

With twenty watchful, weary, tedious nights:
If haply won, perhaps, a hapless gain;
However, but a folly bought with wit,
If lost, why then a grievous labour won;
Or else a wit by folly vanquished.

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.
The eating canker dwells, so eating love
Pro. Yet writers say, As in the sweetest bud
Inhabits in the finest wits of all.

Val. And writers say, As the most forward
Is eaten by the canker ere it blow, [bud
Is turn'd to folly; blasting in the bud,
Even so by love the young and tender wit
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.

Of thy success in love, and what news else
At Milan, let me hear from thee by letters,
And I likewise will visit thee with mine.
Betideth here in absence of thy friend;

Pro. All happiness bechance to thee in
Milan!

Val. As much to you at home! and so, fare-
well.
[Exit VALENTINE.
Pro. He after honour hunts, I after love :
He leaves his friends, to dignify them more:

A bumorons punishment at harvest-home feasts, &c. I leave myself, my friends, and all for love.

Thou, Julia, thou hast metamorphos'd me;
Made me neglect my studies, lose my time,
War with good counsel, set the world at
nought;

having nothing but the word, noddy, for my
pains.

Pro. Beshrew* me, but you have a quick wit.
Speed. And yet it cannot overtake your slow

Made wit with musing weak, heart sick with purse. thought.

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Speed. The shepherd seeks the sheep, and not the sheep the shepherd; but I seek my master, and my master seeks not me; therefore, I am no sheep.

Pro. The sheep for fodder follow the shep-I herd, 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 over,

'Tis threefold too little for carrying a letter to
your lover.

Pro. But what said she? did she nod?
[SPEED nods.

Speed. I.

Pro. Nod, I? why, that's noddy.t Speed. You mistook, Sir; I say, she did nod: and you ask me, if she did nod; and I say, I. Pro. And that set together, is-noddy. Speed. Now you have taken the pains to set it together, take it for your pains.

Pro. No, no, you shall have it for bearing the 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;
A game at cards.

* A term for a courtezan.

Pro. Come, come, open the matter in brief: What said she?

the matter, may be both at once delivered. Speed. Open your purse, that the money, and Pro. Well, Sir, here is for your pains: What said she?

Speed. Truly, Sir, I think you'll hardly win her.

Pro. Why? Could'st thou perceive so much from her?

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 telling her mind. Give her no token but stones; 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, be gone, to save your ship from

wreck;

Which cannot perish, having thee aboard,
Being destined to a drier death on shore :-
I must go send some better messenger;
fear, my Julia would not deign my lines,
Receiving them from such a worthless post.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.-The same. Garden of JULIA'S

house.

Enter JULIA and LUCETTA.

Jul. But say, Lucetta, now we are alone, Would'st thou then counsel me to fall in love? Luc. Ay, madam; so you stumble not unheedfully.

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Jul. Of all the fair resort of gentlemen,
That every day with parle‡ encounter me,
In thy opinion, which is worthiest love?
Luc. Please you, repeat their
show my mind
According to my shallow simple skill.
Jul. What thinkest thou of the fair Sir Eg-
lamour?

I

Luc. As of a knight well-spoken, neat and
fine;

But, were I you, he never should be mine.
Jul. What think'st thou of the rich Mercatio?
Luc. Well of his wealth; but of himself, so, so.
Jul. What think'st thou of the gentle Proteus?
Luc. Lord, lord! to see what folly reigns in

us!

Jul. How now! what means this passion at
his name?

Luc. Pardon, dear madam; 'tis a passing
That I, unworthy body as I am, [shame,
Should censure thus on lovely gentlemen.
Jul. Why not on Proteus, as of all the rest?
Luc. Then thus,--of many good I think him
best.

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Jul. Why, he of all the rest hath never mov'd

me.

Luc. Yet he of all the rest, I think, best loves ye.

Jul. His little speaking shows his love [but small.

Luc. Fire, that is closest kept, burns most of all.

Jul. They do not love, that do not show their love.

Jul. Heavy? belike, it hath some burden then.

Luc. Ay; and melodious were it, would you sing it.

Jul. And why not you?

Luc. I cannot reach so high.

Jul. Let's see your song:-How now, minion?

Luc. Keep tune there still, so you will sing it out:

Luc. O, they love least, that let men know And yet, methinks, I do not like this tune.

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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 [Ay.
Which they would have the profferer construe,
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!

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Jul. You do not?

Luc. No, madam; it is too sharp.
Jul. You, minion, are too saucy.
Luc. Nay, now you are too flat,

And mar the concord with too harsh a descant:*
There wanteth but a meant to fill your song.
Jul. The mean is drown'd with your unruly
base.

Luc. Indeed, I bid the baset for Proteus.
Jul. This babble shall not henceforth trouble
Here is a coil with protestation !— [me.

[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

[Exit.

To be so anger'd with another letter.
Jul. Nay, would I were so anger'd with the
same!

O hateful hands, to tear such loving words!
Injurious wasps! to feed on such sweet honey,
And kill the bees that yield it, with your
stings!

I'll kiss each several paper for amends.
And here is writ-kind Julia;-unkind Julia!
As in revenge of thy ingratitude,

I throw thy name against the bruising stones
Trampling contemptuously on thy disdain,
Look, here is writ-love-wounded Proteus :-
Poor wounded name! my bosom, as a bed,
Shall lodge thee, till thy wound be thoroughly
heal'd;

And thus I search it with a sovereign kiss.
But twice, or thrice, was Proteus written
down?

Becalm, good wind, blow not a word away,
Till I have found each letter in the letter.
Except mine own name; that some whirl-
wind bear

Unto a ragged, fearful, hanging rock,
And throw it thence into the raging sea?
Lo, here in one line is his name twice writ,-
Poor forlorn Proteus, passionate Proteus,
To the sweet Julia;-that I'll tear away;
And yet I will not, sith|| so prettily
He couples it to his complaining names:
Thus will I fold them one upon another;
Now kiss, embrace, contend, do what you will.
Re-enter LUCETTA.

Luc. Madam, dinner's ready, and your fa-
ther stays.

Jul. Well, let us go.

Luc. What, shall these papers lie like tell

tales here?

[up.

Jul. If you respect them, best to take them
Luc. Nay, I was taken up for laying them

down:

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