Page images
PDF
EPUB

[Afades

Fer. The ditty does remember my drown'd father; This is no mortal bufiness, nor no found That the earth owns : I hear it now above me. Pro. The fringed curtains of thine eyes

advance, And say, what thou feeft yond.

Mira. What is't, a spirit?
Lord, how it looks about ! believe me, Sir,
It carries a brave form. But 'tis a spirit.

Pro.No wench, it eats, and seeps, and hath such senses
As we have, fuch. This gallant, which thou feeft,
Was in the wreck: and, but he's fomething stain'd
With grief, (that's beauty's canker) thou might'st call him
A goodly perfon. He hath lost his fellows,
And strays about to find 'em.

Mira. I might call him
A thing divine; for nothing natural
I ever saw so noble.
Pro. It goes on,

I see,
As my soul prompts it. Spirit, fine fpirit, I'll free thee
Within two days for this.

Fer. Most sure, the Goddess
On whom these airs, attend ! vouchsafe, my pray's
May know, if you remain upon this island;
And that you will some good instruction give,
How I may bear me here : my prime request,
(Which I do latt prorrounce) is, you wonder
If you be made or no.?

Mira. No wonder, Sir,
But certainly a maid.

Fer. My language ! heav'as!
I am the best of them that speak this speechi,
Were I but where 'cis fpoken.

Pro. How is the best ?
What wert thou, if the King of Naples Heard thee?

Fer. A single thing, as I am now, that wonders To hear thee speak of Naples. He does hear me ; And, that he does, I wees : myself am Naples, Who, with mine eyes (ne’er since ar ebb). beheld The King my father wreck’t.. Mirqe Alack, for mercy!

FC

Fer. Yes, faith, and all his Lords: the Duke of Milan, And his brave son, being twain. (u)

Pro, The Duke of Milan,
And his more braver daughter, could controul thee,
If now 'twere fit to do't: At the first fight,
They have chang'd eyes : (delicate Ariel,
I'll set thee free for this.) A word, good Sir,
I fear, you've done yourself some wrong: a word.com

Mira. Why speaks my father so ungently? this
Is the third man, that I e'er law; the first,
That e'er I figh'd for. Pity move my father
To be inclin'd my way!

Fer. O, if a virgin,
And

your affection not gone forth, I'll make you The Queen of Naples.

Pro. Soft, Sir; one word more.
They're both in either's power: but this swift business
I muft uneasy make, left too light winning,
Make the prizelight. Sir, one word more; I charge thee,
That thou attend me:

-thou dost here usurp
The name thou ow'ft not, and haft put thyself
Upon this island, as a spy, to win it
From me, the Lord on't.

Fer. No, as I'm a man.
Mira. There's nothing ill can dwell in such a temple.
If the ill spirit have so fair an house,
Good things will ftrive to dwell with’t.

Pro. Follow me. Speak not you for him: he's a traitor. Come, I'll manacle thy neck and feet together; Sea-water shalt thou drink; thy food Mall be The fresh-brook musiels, wither'd roots, and huss Wherein the acorn cradled. Follow.

Fer. No, I will refift such entertainment, 'till (11)

the Duke of Milan, And bis brave fon, being twain,) Here seems a fight forgetfulness in our Poet: No body was lost in this wreck, as is inanifest from leveral paffage6: and yet we have no such character introduc'd in the fable, as the Duke of Milan's son.

Mine enemy has more power.

[He draws, and is charmed from moving. Mira. O dear father, Make not too rash a trial of him ; for He's gentle, and not fearful.

Pro. What, I say,
My foot my tutor : put thy sword up, traitor,
Who mak’st a shew, but dar'ít not strike; thy conscience
Is so posseft with guilt: come from thy ward,
For I can here difarm thee with this stick,
And make thy weapon drop.

Mira. Beseech you, father.
Pro. Hence: hang not on my garment.

Mira. Sir, have pity ;
I'll be his furety.

Pro. Silence: one word more
Shall make me chide thee, if not hate thee. What,
An advocate for an impostor? huh!
Thou think'st there are no more such shapes as he,
Having seen but him and Caliban; foolish wench!
To th' most of men this is a Caliban,
And they to him are angels.

Mira. My affections
Are then most humble: I have no ambition
To see a goodlier man.

Pro. Come on, obey :
Thy nerves are in their infancy again,
And have no vigour in them.

Fer. So they are :
My spirits, as in a dream, are all bound up.
My father's loss, the weakness which I feel,
The wreck of all my friends, and this man's threats,
To whom I am súbdu'd, are but light to me;
Might I but through my prison once a day
Behold this maid : all corners else o'th' earth
Let liberty make use of; space enough
Have I, in such a prison.

Pro. It works : come on. (Thou hast done wel, fine Ariel :) follow Hark, what thju else shalt do me.

me.

(To Ariel.

Mira. Be of comfort,
My father's of a better nature, Sir,

Than he appears by speech : this is unwonted,
Which now came from him.

Pro. Thou shalt be as free
As mountain winds; but then exactly do
All points of my command.

Ari. To th’syllable.
Pro. Come, follow : speak not for him. [Exeunt.
GBAAHOCEANISCHAAFDetay CHANSCRAMS

A CT II. SCENE, another part of the land. Enter Alonso, Sebastian, Anthonio, Gonzalo, Adrian,

Francisco, and others.

GONZALO.
Efeech

you, Sir, be merry : you have cause
Is much beyond our loss; our hint of woe
Is common ; every day, some failor's wife,
The mafters of some merchant, and the merchant
Have just our theam of woe : but for the miracle,
(I mean our preservation). few in millions
Can speak like us: then wisely, good Sir, weigh
Our sorrow with our comfort.
Alon. Pry'thee, peace. (12)

Seb. (12) Alon. Po’ytbee peace. All that follows from hence to this

You cram these words into my ears against

The ft mach of my sense. seems to Mr. Pope to have been an interpolation by the Players. For my part, cho'l allow the matter of the dialogue to be very poor and trivial, ( f which, I am loiry to fav, we don't want other innances in our Poet ;) ! cinnoite of wis Centleman's opinion, that it is interpolated. For should we take out this intermediare part, whac would become of thete words of the King?

Belse

speech of the King's.

Wouls I had never

Maried m

[ocr errors]

What

Seb. He receives comfort like cold porridge
Ant. The visitor will not give o'er so.

Seb. Look, he's winding up the watch of his wit,
by and by it will krike.
Gon. Sir,
Seb. One :- -Tellya

Gon. When every grief is entertain'd, that's offer'ds comes to the entertainer

Seb. A dollor.

Gon. Dolour comes to him, indeed; you have spoken truer than you propos'd.

Seb. You have taken it wifelier than I meant you should.
Gon. Therefore, my Lord,
Ant. Fy, what a spendthrift is he of his tongue?
Alon. I pr'ythee, spare,
Gon. Well, I have done : but yet
Seb. He will be talking.

Ant. Which of them, he, or Adrian, for a goce wager, first begins to crow?

Seb. The old cock,
Ant. The cockrel.
Seb. Done : the wager?
Ant. A laughter,
Seb. A match.
Adr. Though this island Teem to be desart
Seb. Ha, ha, ha.So, you're paid.
Adr. Uninhabitable, and almost inaccessible
Seb. Yet,
Adr. Yet
Ant. He could not miss't.

we again hear her

Wbat daughter? and, where married ? For it is from this intermedis ate part

of the scene only, that we are told, the King had a daughter nam'd Claribel, whom he had married into Tunis. "Tis true, in a subsequent scene, betwixt Antonio and Sebastian, and Tunis mention'd: but in such a manner, that it would be quite obfcure and unintelligible without this previous information. Mr. Pope's criticism therefore is injudicious and unweigh’d. Besides

, poor and jejune as the matter of the dialogue is, it was certainly defign'd to be of a ridiculous stamp; to divert and unfettle the King'a thoughts from reflecting too deeply on his son's suppos’d drowning.

« PreviousContinue »