« AnteriorContinua »
the Publishers of the present Edition to attain; for they are fully aware, that upon this alone the permanent reputation of their book must depend.
The standard by which they are willing that their pretensions should be tried, is the well-known edition produced under the inspection of Johnson, Reed, and Steevens, which, being universally admitted to be the most correct that has yet appeared, they adopted as the text from which their own has been printed. They will not deny, that, in executing their task, they were sometimes, though infrequently, struck with instances, in which they ventured to think the punctuation might admit of improvement; but the temptations to innovation thence arising, they uniformly resisted. They have themselves no name; and they doubt whether the sanction of any modern name would attach as much confidence as it would take away, from a work that should deviate, even in a small degree, from the labour's of those enlightened commentators.
SCENE,-The sea, with a ship; afterwards an uninhabited island.
SCENE I.-On a ship at sea.
Enter a Ship-master and a Boatswain. Master. Boatswain,—
Boats. Here, master: What cheer? Master. Good: Speak to the mariners: fall to't yarely, or we run ourselves aground: bestir, bestir. [Exit.
Boats. Heigh, my hearts; cheerly, cheerly, my hearts; yare, yare: Take in the top-sail; Tend to the master's whistle.-Blow, till thou 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.
Ant. Where is the master, boatswain?
Boats. Do you not hear him? You mar our labour; keep your cabins: you do assist the storm.
Gon. Nay, good, be patient.
Boats. When the sea is. Hence! What care these roarers for the name of king? To cabin : silence: trouble us not.
Gon. Good; yet remember whom thou hast aboard.
Boats. None that I more love than myself.
Enter PROSPERO and MIRANDA.
Put the wild waters in this roar, allay them: The sky, it seems, would pour down stinking pitch,
You are a counsellor; if you can command these SCENE II.-The Island: before the Cell of elements to silence, and work the peace of the present, we shall not hand a rope more; use 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 so hap.-Cheerly, good hearts.-Out of our way, [Exit. Gon. I have great comfort from this fellow: methinks, he hath no drowning mark upon him; his complexion is perfect gallows. Stand fast, good fate, to his hanging! make the rope of his destiny our cable, for our own doth little advan- | tage! If he be not born to be hanged, our case is miserable. [Exeunt.
Boats. Down with the top-mast; yare; lower, lower; bring her to try with main-course.-4 cry within.-A plague upon this howling! they are louder than the weather, or our office. Re-enter SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, 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, incharitable dog!
Boats. Work you, then.
Ant. Hang, cur, hang! you whoreson, insolent noise-maker, we are less afraid to be drowned than thou art.
Gon. I'll warrant him from drowning; tho' the ship were no stronger than a nut-shell, and as leaky as an unstaunched wench.
Boats. Lay her a-hold, a-hold; set her two courses; off to sea again, lay her off.
Enter Mariners wet.
Mar. All lost! to prayers, to prayers! all
Boats. What, must our mouths be cold?
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;
A confused noise within.Mercy on us!We split, we split!-Farewell, my wife and childdren!-Farewell, brother!-We split, we split, we split!
Ant. Let's all sink with the king. Seb. Let's take leave of him. Gon. Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea for an acre of barren ground; long heath, brown furze, any thing: The wills above be done! but I would fain die a dry death. [Exit.
But that the sea, mounting to the welkin's cheek,
Pro. Be collected;
No more amazement: tell your piteous heart,
Mira. O, woe the day!
I should inform thee further. Lend thy hand,
The direful spectacle of the wreck, which touch'd
For thou must now know further.
Mira. You have often
Begun to tell me what I am; but stopp'd,
Pro. The hour's now come :
I do not think thou can'st; for then thou wast not
Mira. Certainly, sir, I can.
Pro. By what? by any other house, or person?
Mira. 'Tis far off;
And rather like a dream than an assurance,
That my remembrance warrants: Had I not
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?
Mira. But that I do not.
Pro. Twelve years since, Miranda, twelve years since,
Thy father was the duke of Milan, and
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 !
O'er-priz'd all popular rate, in my false brother
Who having, unto truth, by telling of it,
Mira. Your tale, sir, would cure deafness. Pro. To have no screen between this part he play'd
And him he played it for, he needs will be
What foul play had we, that we came from Absolute Milan: Me, poor man!-my library
Or blessed was't, we did?
Pro. Both, both, my girl:
Was dukedom large enough; of temporal roy
He thinks me now incapable: confederates
By foul play, as thou say'st, were we heav'd (So dry he was for sway) with the king of Naples,
But blessedly holp hither.
Mira. O, my heart bleeds
To think o' the teen that I have turn'd you to, Which is from my remembrance! Please you, further.
Pro. My brother, and thy uncle call'd Antonio,
I pray thee, mark me,-that a brother should
Mira. 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
To what tune pleas'd his ear; that now he was
Mira. O, good sir, I do.
Pro. I thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicate
To closeness, and the bettering of my mind
To give him annual tribute, do him homage;
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:
Pro. Now the condition.
This king of Naples, being an enemy
Mira. Alack, for pity!
I, not rememb'ring how I cried out then,
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 That hour destroy us?
Pro. Well demanded, wench;
My tale provokes that question. Dear, they durst not;
(So dear the love my people bore me) nor set
Mira. Alack! what trouble
Was I then to you!
Pro. O! a cherubim
Thou wast, that did preserve me! Thou didst O' the dreadful thunder-claps, more momentary
Infused with a fortitude from heaven,
Mira. How came we ashore?
Some food we had, and some fresh water, that
Out of his charity, (who being then appointed
Knowing I lov'd my books, he furnish'd me,
Mira. 'Would I might
But ever see that man!
Pro. Now I arise:
Sit still, and hear the last of our sea-sorrow.
(For still 'tis beating in my mind,) your reason
Pro. Know thus far forth.
By accident most strange, bountiful Fortune,
Thou art inclin'd to sleep; 'tis a good dulness,
And sight-out-running were not: The fire, and cracks
Of sulphurous roaring, the most mighty Neptune Seem'd to besiege, and make his bold waves tremble,
Yea, his dread trident shake.
Pro. My brave spirit!
Who was so firm, so constant, that this coil
Ari. Not a soul
But felt a fever of the mad, and play'd
Some tricks of desperation: All, but mariners,
With hair up-staring, (then like reeds, not hair,) Was the first man that leap'd; cried, Hell is empty,
And all the devils are here.
Pro. Why, that's my spirit!
On their sustaining garments not a blemish,
Pro. Of the king's ship,
The mariners, say, how thou hast dispos'd,
Ari. Safely in harbour
Is the king's ship; in the deep rook, where once
I have left asleep: and for the rest o' the fleet,
Ari. All hail, great master! grave sir, hail! I And his great person perish.
Pro. Ariel, thy charge