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? Ste. I should have been a sore one then. 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 hereafter, 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, 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, Alon. Pro. I'll deliver all; And promise you calm seas, auspicious gales, Be free, and fare thou well! - [Aside.] Please you draw near. [Exeunt. EPILOGUE. SPOKEN BY PROSPERO. NOW my charms are all o'erthrown, As you from crimes would pardon'd be, 7 Applause, noise was supposed to dissolve a spell. PERSONS REPRESENTED. DUKE OF MILAN, father to Silvia. PROTEUS, } gentlemen of Verona. ANTONIO, father to Proteus. THURIO, a foolish rival to Valentine. PANTHINO, servant to Antonio. Host, where Julia lodges in Milan. 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. OF VERONA. ACT THE FIRST. 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 begone? 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 danger, Commend thy grievance to my holy prayers, 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. |