Let grief and sorrow still embrace his heart,

In a poor isle; and all of us, ourselves,

These three have robb'd me; and this demi-devil

When no man was his own.

(For he's a bastard one,) had plotted with them

Alon. Give me your hands:

That doth not wish you joy!

Must know, and own; this thing of darkness I Acknowledge mine.

Gon. Be't so! Amen!

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?

amazedly following.

should they

Re-enter Ariel, with the Master and Boatswain

O look, sir, look, sir; here are more of us!
I prophesied, if a gallows were on land,

This fellow could not drown: Now, blasphemy,
That swear'st grace o'erboard, not an vain on

shore?

Hast thou no mouth by land? What is the news? 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,-
Is tight, and yare, and bravely rigg'd, as when
We first put out to sea.

Have I done since I went.

Aside.

Ari. Sir, all this service
}
Pro. My tricksy spirit! S
Alon. These are not natural events; they

strengthen,

[ther? From strange to stranger:-Say, how came you hi. Boats. If I did think, sir, 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 hatches, Where, but even now, with strange and several noises

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

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 Arie!.] 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 Cal. O Setebos, these be brave spirits, indeed! How fine my master is! I am afraid He will chastise me.

head, here's a goodly sight.

Alon. And Trinculo is reeling ripe: Where

Find this grand liquor that hath gilded them P
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?
[cramp.
Ste. O, touch me not; I am not Stephano, but a
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 1 look'd [Pointing to Catiban.

[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.

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 confined 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.

T

ACT I.

SCENE 1. 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 danger, If ever danger do environ thee, Commend thy grievance to my holy prayers, For I will be thy bead's-man, 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.

Val.

What ?

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;
If lost, why then a grievous labour won;
However, but a folly bought with wit,
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.
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,
Of thy success in love, and what news else

Betideth here in absence of thy friend;

And I likewise will visit thee with mine.

Pro. All happiness bechance to thee in Milan! Val. As much to you at home! and so, farewell. [Erit Valentine.

Pro. He after honour hunts, I after love: He leaves his friends to dignify them more; 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; Made wit with musing weak, heart sick with thought.

Pro. A silly answer, and fitting well a sheep. Speed. This proves me still a sheep. Pro. True; and thy master a shepherd. Speed. Nay, that I can deny by a circumstance. Pro. It shall go hard, but I'll prove it by another. 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 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 over

C

1

"Tis threefold too little for carrying a letter to your Pro. But what said she? did she nod? [lover. [Speed nods.

Speed. I.

Pro. Nod, I; why, that's noddy. 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.

o. 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. Beshrew me, but you have a quick wit.

Speed. And yeti 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. 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; I fear, my Julia would not deign my lines, Receiving them from such a worthless post.

[Exeunt.

Luc. Pardon, dear madam; 'tis a passing shame,
That I, unworthy body as I am,
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
Jul. Your reason ?
[best.

Luc. I have no other but a woman's reason;

I think him so, because I think him so. [him? Jul. And would'st thou have me cast my love on Luc. Ay, if you thought your love not cast away. 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 shews his love but small. Luc. Fire, that is closest kept, burns most of all.

He would have given it you, but I, being in the way, Did in your name receive it; pardon the fault, I pray.

Jul. Now, by my modesty, a goodly broker!
Dare you presume to harbour wanton lines?
To whisper and conspire against my youth?
Now, trust me, 'tis an office of great worth,
And you an officer fit for the place.

There, take the paper, see it be return'd;
Or else return no more into my sight.

Luc. To plead for love deserves more fee than 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 construe, 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?

Nothing

Luc.

Jul.

What is't you took up

Why did'st 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
Jul. And why not you?,
[sing it
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:
And yet, methinks, I do not like this tune.
Jul. You do not ?

Luc. No, madam; it is too sharp.

Jul. You, minion, are too saucy.

Luc. Nay, now you are too flat,

4.

And mar the concord with too harsh a descant:
There wanteth but a mean to fill your song.
Jul. The mean is drown'd with your unruly base.
Luc. Indeed, I bid the base for Proteus.

Jul. This babble shall not henceforth trouble mel
Here is a coil 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!
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 throughly heal'd;
And thus I search it with a sovereign kiss.
But twice, or thrice, was Proteus written down:
Be calm, good wind, blow not a word away,
Till I have found each letter in the letter,
Except mine own name; that some whirlwind 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 father stays. Jul. Well, let us go..

[here? Luc. What, shall these papers lie like tell-tales 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, wilt please you go? [Exeunt.

SCENE III. The same. 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

Would suffer him to spend his youth at home;
While other men, of siender reputation,
Put forth their sons to seek preferment out:
Some, to the wars, to try their fortune there;
Some, to discover islands far away;
Some, to the studious universities.
For any, or for all these exercises,
He said, that Proteus, your son, was meet:
And did request me, to importune you,
To let him spend his time no more at home,
Which would be great impeachment to his age,
In having known no travel in his youth.

Ant. Nor need'st thou much importune me to that
Whereon this month I have been hammering.
I have consider'd well his loss of time;
And how he cannot be a perfect man,
Not being try'd, and tutor'd in the world:
Experience is by industry atchiev'd,

And perfected by the swift course of time:
Then, tell me, whither were I best to send him ?
Pan. I think, your lordship is not ignorant,

How his companion, youthful Valentine,
Attends the emperor in his royal court.

Ant. I know it well.

Pro. Sweet love! sweet lines! sweet life!
Here is her hand, the agent of her heart;
Here is her oath for love, her honour's pawn:
O, that our fathers would applaud our loves,
To seal our happiness with their consents!
O heavenly Julia!

Ant. How now? what letter are you reading there?
Pro. May't please your lordship, 'tis a word or two

Of commendation sent from Valentine,
Deliver'd by a friend that came from him.

Ant. Lend me the letter; let me see what news.
Pro. There is no news, my lord; but that he writes

How happily he lives, how well-belov'd,
And daily graced by the emperor;
Wishing me with him, partner of his fortune.
Ant. And how stand you affected to his wish?
Pro. As one relying on your lordship's will,

And not depending on his friendly wish.

Ant. My will is something sorted with his wish: Muse not that I thus suddenly proceed; For what I will, I will, and there an end. I am resolv'd, that thou shalt spend some time With Valentinus in the emperor's court; What maintenance he from his friends receives, Like exhibition shalt thou have from me. To-morrow be in readiness to go: Excuse it not, for I am peremptory.

Pro. My lord, I cannot be so soon provided; Please you, deliberate a day or two. [thee: Ant. Look, what thou want'st, shall be sent after No more of stay; to-morrow thou must go.Come on, Panthino; you shall be employ'd To hasten on his expedition.

[Exeunt Ant. and Pan.

Pro. Thus have I shunn'd the fire, for fear of burning;

And drench'd me in the sea, where I am drown'd:
I fear'd to shew my father Julia's letter,
Lest he should take exceptions to my love;
And with the vantage of mine own excuse
Hath he excepted most against my love.
O, how this spring of love resembleth

The uncertain glory glo of an April day;
Which now shews all the beauty of the sun,
And by and by a cloud takes all away!

Re-enter Panthino.

Pan. Sir Proteus, your father calls for you; He is in haste, therefore, I pray you, go.

Pro. Why, this it is! my heart accords thereto; And yet a thousand times it answers, no. [Exeunt.

ACT II.

SCENE I. Milan. An Apartment in the Duke's Palace.

Enter Valentine and Speed.

Speed. Sir, your glove.

Hear sweet discourse, converse with noblemen;

thither:

There shall he practise tilts and tournaments,

And be in eye of every exercise,

Worthy his youth and nobleness of birth.

Ant. I like thy counsel; well hast thou advis'd:

And, that thou may'st perceive how well I like it,

The execution of it shall make known;

Ah Silvia! Silvia!

Speed. Madam Silvia! madam Silvia!

Val. How now, sirrah?

Speed. She is not within hearing, sir.
Val. Why, sir, who bade you call her?
Speed. Your worship, sir; or else I mistook.
Val. Well, you'll still be too forward.
Speed. And yet I was last chidden for being too

[slow.

Val. Go to, sir; tell me, do you know madam
Silvia?

Speed. She that your worship loves? Val. Why, how know you that I am in love? Speed. Marry, by these special marks: First, you have learned, like sir Proteus, to wreath your arms like a male-content; to relish a love-song, like a Robin-red-breast; to walk alone, like one that had the pestilence; to sigh, like a school-boy that had lost his A. B. C; to weep, like a young wench that had buried her grandam; to fast, like one that takes diet; to watch, like one that fears robbing; to speak puling, like a beggar at Hallowmas. You were wont, when you laughed, to crow like a cock; when you walked, to walk like one of the lions; when you fasted, it was presently after dinner; when you looked sadly, it was for want of money: and now you are metamorphosed with a mistress, that, when I look on you, I can hardly think you my master.

Val. Are all these things perceived in me?
Speed. They are all perceived without you.
Val. Without me? they cannot.

Speed. Without you? nay, that's certain, for, without you were so simple, none else would: but you are so without these follies, that these follies are within you, and shine through you like the water in an urinal; that not an eye, that sees you, but is a physician to comment on your malady.

Val. But tell me, dost thou know my lady Silvia? Speed. She, that you gaze on so, as she sits at supper ?

Val. Hast thou observed that? even she I mean. Speed. Why, sir, 1 know her not.

Val. Dost thou know her by my gazing en her, and yet knowest her not?

Speed. Is she not hard favoured, sir ?
Val. Not so fair, boy, as well favoured.
Speed. Sir, I know that well enough.

Val. What dost thou know?

Speed. That she is not so fair, as (of you) well favoured.

Val. I mean, that her beauty is exquisite, but her favour infinite.

Speed. That's because the one is painted, and the other out of all count.

Val. How painted? and how out of count?

Speed. Marry, sir, so painted, to make her fair, that no man counts of her beauty.

Val. How esteemest thou me? I account of her beauty.

Speed. You never saw her since she was deformed.
Val. How long hath she been deformed ?
Speed. Ever since you loved her.

Val. I have loved her ever since I saw her; and still I see her beautiful.

Speed. If you love her, you cannot see her.
Val. Why?

Speed. Because love is blind. O, that you had mine eyes; or your own eyes had the lights they were wont to have, when you chid at sir Proteus for going ungartered!

Val. What should I see then?

Speed. Your own present folly, and her passing deformity for he, being in love, could not see to garter his hose; and you, being in love, cannot see to put on your hose.

Val. Belike, boy, then you are in love; for last morning you could not see to wipe my shoes.

Speed. True, sir; I was in love with my bed. I thank you, you swinged me for my love, which makes me the bolder to chide you for yours. Val. In conclusion, I stand affected to her. Speed. I would you were set; so, your affection would cease.

Val. Last night she enjoined me to write some

lines to one

she loves.

Speed. And have you ?

Val. I have.

Speed. Are they not lamely writ?

Sil. I thank you, gentle servant: 'tis very clerklý
Val. Now trust me, madam, it came hardly off;

For, being ignorant to whom it goes,
I writ at random, very doubtfully.

[pains?

Sil. Perchance you think too much of so much Val. No, madam; so it stead you, I will write, Please you command, a thousand times as much: And yet,

Sil. A pretty period! Well, I guess the sequel; And yet I will not name it:-and yet I care not ;And yet take this again; and yet I thank you; Meaning henceforth to trouble you no more. Speed. And yet you will; and yet another yet. [Aside, Val. What means your ladyship? do you not like it ?

Sil. Yes, yes; the lines are very quaintly writ: But since unwillingly, take them again; Nay, take them.

Val. Madam, they are for you.

Sil. Ay, ay, you writ them, sir, at my request; But I will none of them; they are for you: I would have had them writ more movingly.

Val. Please you, I'll write your ladyship another. Sil. And when it's writ, for my sake read it over:

And if it please you, so if not, why, so.

Val. If it please me, madam! what then?

Sil. Why, if it please you, take it for your labour. And so good morrow, servant. [Erit Silvia,

Speed. O jest unseen, inscrutable, invisible, As a nose on a man's face, or a weathercock on a steeple! My master sues to her; and she hath taught her suitor,

He being her pupil, to become her tutor.
O excellent device! was there ever heard a better?
That my master, being scribe, to himself should
write the letter?

Val. How now, sir? what are you reasoning with yourself?

Speed. Nay, I was rhyming; 'tis you that have the reason..