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Alón. I will stand to, and feed,
Although my last ; no matter, since I feel
The best is paft. Brother, my Lord the Duke,
Stand to, and do as we.
Thunder and lightning. Enter Ariel like a harpy, clans

bis. wings upon the table, and with a queint device the
banquet vanishes.

fri. You are three men of fin, whom destiny (That hath to instrument this lower world, And what is in't) the never-furfeited sea Hath caused to belch up; and on this Island (23) Where man doth not inhabit, you ’mongst men Being most unfit to live. I have made


mad: And ev'n with such like valour men hang and drown

selves. You foois ! I and my fellows
Are ministers of fate; the elements,
Of whom your swords are temper'd, may as well
Wound the loud winds, or with bemockt-at stabs
Kill the still-closing waters, as diminish
One down that's in my plume: my fellow-ministers

Their proper

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I do irtend, this year, of Jubilee coming on, in travel.: And (becaüfe I will not altogerber go upon expence,) I am determin'd to put furib fome five thousand found, to be paid me five for one, upon the return of myself, my wife, and my blog, from ibe Turk's Court in Constantinople. If all, or either of us miscarry in the journey, 'tis gore; if we be successful, wby, there will be five and twenty thousard pounds to entertain time witbal.

If this was to be the return of the Knigbt's venture ; 'tis obrious, he put out his money on five for one. Ben to heighten the ridicule of these projecting voyagers, makes Puntarvclo's wife averse to accompany him; and so he is forc'd to put out his venture on the return of himself, his dog, and his -Let me conclude with observing on the different conduct of the two poets. Sbakespeare (perhaps, out of a particular deference for Sir W. Raleigh) only sneers these adventurous voyagers obliquely, and, as it were, en passant : The furly Ben, who would be tied up by no such fcrupulous regards, dresses up the fashion in the most glaring colours of comic bumour ; or, rather, brings down his satire to the level of farcical ridicule.

(23) Harb caus’d to belch you up ;) Thus, the whole set of editions; but 'tis obvious to every reader, that the Grammar's faulty; and Therefore I have cur'd it by throwing out you.


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Are like invulnerable. If you could hurt,
Your swords are now too masly for your strengths,
And will not be up-lifted. But remember,
(For that's my business to you) that you three
From Milan did supplant good Prospero :
Expos'd unto the sea (which hath requit it)
Him, and his innocent child: for which foul deed
The powers delaying, not forgetting, have
Incens'd the seas and shores, yea, all the creatures,
Against your peace : thee of thy son, Alonso,
They have bereft; and do pronounce by me,
Ling’ring perdition, worse than any death
Can be at once, shaH step by step attend
You and your ways; whose wrath to guard you from,
(Which here in this most defolate Ine else falls
Upon your heads,) is nothing but hearts sorrow,
And a clear life ensuing.
He vanishes in thunder : then, to soft music, Enter the
fhapes again, and dance with mops and mowes, and
carrying out the table.
Pro. Bravely the figure of this harpy haft thou

, my Ariel; a grace it had devouring :
Of my instruction haft thou nothing bated,
In what thou hadît to say : fo with good life,
And observation strange, my meaner minifters
Their several kinds have done; my high charms work,
And these, mine enemies, are all knit up
In their distractions: they are in my power ;
And in these fits I leave them, whilft I visit
Young Ferdinand, (whom they suppose is drown'd)
And his and my lov'd darling [Exit Profpero from above,

Gon. I'th' name of something holy, Sir, why fand you
In this ftrange ftare ?

Alon. O, it is monstrous ! monstrous !
Methoughts, the billows sjoke, and told me of it;
The winds did fing it to nie; and the thunder,
That deep and dreadful organ-pipe, pronounc'd
The name of Prosper : it did base my trespass.
Therefore, my son i' th’ooze is bedded ; and


I'll seek him deeper than e'er plummet founded,
And with him there lie mudded.

Seb. But one fiend at a time,
I'll-fight their legions o’er.
Ant. I'll be thy second.

[Exeunt, Gon. All three of them are desperate; their great guilt, Like poison giv'n to work a great time after, Now 'gins to bite the spirits. I do beseech you, That are of fuppler joints, follow them swiftly ; And hinder them from what this ecstasy May now provoke them too, Adri. Follow, I pray you.



for I

SCENE, Prospero's Cell.
Enter Profpero, Ferdinand, and Miranda,

F I have too aufterely punish'd you,

Your compensation makes amends; Have giv’n you here a thread of mine own life ; (24), (24)

- for I

Have giv’n you bere a third of my own life,] Thus all the impressions in general; but why is the only a third of his own life? He had no wife living, nor any other child, to rob her of a share in his affection : So that we may reckon her at least balf of himself. Nor could he intend, that he lov'd himself twice as much as he did her; for he immediately fubjoins, that it was Sbe for wbom be lived. In Othello, when Jago alarms the Senator with the loss of his daughter, he tells him,

Your heart is burst, you have lost balf your soul.
And dimidium animæ meæe is the current language on such occafions,
There is no room for doubt, but I have restor'd to the Poet his true
reading; and the thread of life is a phrase most frequent with him,
So in K. Henry V.

And let not Bardolfe's vital ibread be cut
With edge of penay cord.

had not churchmen pray'd,
fiis thread of life had not so soon decay'd.

2 Henry

Henry VI.

Ot that, for which I live; whom once again
I tender to thy hand: all thy vexations
Were but

my trials of thy love, and thou
Haft ftrangely stood the test. Here, afore heaven,
I ratify this my rich gift ; O Ferdinand,
Do not smile at me, that I boast her off;
For thou shalt find, she will our trip all.praise,
And make it halt behind her.

Fer. I believe it,
Against an oracle.

Pro. Then as my gift, and thine own acquisition
Worthily purchas’d, take my daughter. But
If chou dost break her virgin-knot, before
All sanctimonious ceremonies may
With full and holy rite be minister'd,
No sweet aspersions shall the heav'ns let fall
To make this contract grow : but barren hate,
Sour-ey'd disdain, and discord fall beftrew
The union of your bed with weeds ro loathly,

you shall hate it boih: therefore take heed, As Hymen's lamps shall light you.

Fer. As I hope
For quiet days, fair iffue, and long life,
With such love as 'tis now; the markiert den,
The most opportune place, the strong'it suggestion
Our worser Genius can, shall never melt
Mine honour into lust; to take away
The edge of that day's celebration,
When I shall think or Phæbus' steeds are founder'd,
Or night kept chain'd below.

Pro. Fairly spoke.
Sit then, and talk with her, the is thine own.
What, Ariel; my industrious servant, Ariel

Enter Ariel.
Ari. What would my potent master? here I am.
2. Henry VI. Argo, their tbread of life is spun.

I'm glad, thy father's dead;
Thy match was mortal to him, and pure grief
Shore his old thread in twain.
D 3


Pro. Thou and thy meaner fellows your last service
Did worthily perform ; and I must use you
Ih such another trick; go, bring the rabble,
O'er whom I give thee power, here to this place :
Incite them to quick motion, for I muft
Pestow upon the eyes of this young couple
Some vanity of mine art; it is my promile,
And they expect it from me.

Ari. Presently?
Pro. Ay, with a twink.

Ari. Before you can say, Come, and go,
And breathe twice; and cry, fo, fo;
Each one, tripping on his toe,
Will be here with mop and mow.
Do you love me, mafter? no?

Pro. Dearly, my delicate Ariel; do not approach, 'Till thou dost here me call. Ari. Well, I conceive.

Pro. Look, thou be true ; do not give dalliance
Too much the rein; the strongest oaths are ftraw
To th' fire i'th' blood : be more abitemious,
Or else, good-night, your vow!

Fer. I warrant you, Sir;
The white, cold, virgin-snow upon my heart
Abates the ardour of my liver.

Pro. Well.
Now come, my Ariel; bring a corollary,
Rather than want a spirit ; appear, and pertlya-
No tongue ;

eyes ;
be filent.

[To Ferdinand

[Soft Music. A MASQUE. Enter Iris. Iris. Ceres, moft bounteous Lady, thy rich leas Cf wheat, rye, barley, fetches, oats, and pease; Thy turfy mountains, where live nibling sheep, And fat meads thatch'd with stover, them to keep; Thy banks with pioned, and tulip'd brims, Which spungy April at thy heft betrims, [groves, To make cold nymphs chaste crowns; and thy broomWhose shadow the dismissed batchelor loves,

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