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Laer.

And, mermaid-like, awhile they bore her L aer. Lay her j' the earth ;up :

And from her fair and unpolluted flesh, Which time, she chanted snatches of old May violets spring !-I tell thee, churlish tunes;

priest, As one incapable of her own distress, A minist'ring angel shall my sister be, Or like a creature native and endu'd When thou liest howling. Unto that element; but long it could not Ham. What, the fair Ophelia ! be,

Queen. Sweets to the sweet: FareTill that her garments, heavy with their well! drink,

[Scattering Flowers. Pull'd the poor wretch from her melo- I hop'd thou should'st have been my dious lay

Hamlet's wife; To muddy death.

I thought, thy bride-bed to have deck'd, Laer. Alas then, she is drown'd? sweet maid, Queen. Drown'd, drown'd.

And not have strew'd thy grave. Laer. Too much of water hast thou,

O, treble woe poor Ophelia,

Fall ten times treble on that cursed head, And therefore I forbid my tears: But Whose wicked deed thy most ingenious yet

sense It is our trick ; nature her custom holds, Depriv'd thee of !-Hold off the earth a Let shame say what it will: when these

while, are gone,

Till I have caught her once more in mine The woman will be out."

arms; [Leaps into the grave. And lo! her funeral !

Now pile your dust upon the quick and

dead; “ Enter Priests, &c. in Procession : the Till of this flat a mountain you have Corpse of OPHELIA, LAERTES and

made Mourners following ; KING, QUEEN,

To o'er-top old Pelion, or the skyish head their trains, &c.

Of blue Olympus. Ham. The queen, the courtiers : Who Ham. (Advancing.) What is he, whose is this they follow?

grief And with such maimed rites! This Bears such an emphasis ? whose phrase doth betoken,

of sorrow The corse, they follow, did with despe- Conjures the wand'ring stars, and makes rate hand

them stand Fordo its own life. 'Twas of some es

Like wonder-wounded hearers ? this is I,

Hamlet the Dane.” Couch we a while, and mark.

And so vanishes for ever from our [Retiring with HORATIO. eyes, she whom Samuel Johnson Laer. What ceremony else?

tenderly calls “ Ophelia, the young, Ham.

That is Laertes, the beautiful, the harmless, and the A very noble youth: Mark.

pious.” Laer. What ceremony else?

Away! Away! with us, far, far 1 Priest. Her obsequies have been as from the courts of Sin and Suffering, far enlarg'd

to that Enchanted Isle, where MIRANAs we have warranty: Her death was Da is walking on flowers or shells, and doubtful;

ARIEL winnows the pure air around And, but that great command o'ersways

ac great command o'ersways her head with wings lovely as the the order,

rainbow. The Bermuda Isles, in She should in ground unsanctified bave

which Shakspeare has placed the lodg'd

scene of the Tempest, were described Till the last trumpet; for charitable

by Sir George Somers, who was prayers, Shards, Aints, and pebbles, should be

wrecked there, as “a land of devils,"

“a most prodigious and enchanted thrown on her: Yet here she is allowed her virgin crants,

te place," subject to continual tempests Her maiden strewments, and the bringing

and supernatural visitings; and such bome

was the idea entertained of the “stillOf bell and burial.

vexed Bermoothes" in Shakspeare's Laer. Must there no more be done ? age. But later travellers, says Mrs 1 Priest.

No more be done! Jameson, describe them “as perfect We should profane the service of the regions of enchantment in a far difdead,

ferent sense; as so many fairy Edens, To sing a requien, and such to rest her clustered like a knot of gems upon As to peace-parted souls.

the bosom of the Atlantic, decked

tate;

out in all the lavish luxuriance of flower beneath his eye,” we feel how nature, with shades of myrtle and happy Prospero must have been in cedar, fringed round with groves of watching the unfolding of her wocoral; in short, each island a living man's heart. Ignorant of how she paradise, rich with perpetual blog. came there, and often wondering, no soms, in which Ariel might have slum- doubt, at her own wondrous life, yet bered, and ever-verdant bowers, in had she never once asked her father which Ferdinand and Miranda might to explain the mystery. have strayed. So that Shakspeare,

Prospero. My dear one! thee, my in blending the wild relations of the

danghter! who shipwrecked mariners with his own Art ignorant of what thou art, nought inspired fancies, has produced no

knowing thing, however lovely in nature, and of whence I am; nor that I am more sublime in magical power, which

better does not harmonize with the beauti. Than Prospero, master of a full poor cell, ful and wondrous reality.”

And thy no greater father. There has been shipwreck - the Miranda." More to know hurly-burly's done-and in the calm Did never meddle with my thoughts." before their Cell, lo! Prospero, the

But as more--as all is told her-how Mighty Magician, and his daughter, The WONDERFUL.

uver, her thoughts-her feelings rise ac

cordant to all those of her beloved “O! I have suffered father! How beautifully she speaks With those that I saw suffer ! a brave ves- of her dreamlike remembrances of sel,

some other evanished life, when elseWho had no doubt some noble creatures where she was a child! How pity in her,

and grief and indignation alternate in Dashed all to pieces! Oh, the cry did her simple heart, as her father unknock

folds the story of his wrongs, his Against my very heart ! Poor souls ! they

perils, his escape, and his banishperished!

ment! Had I been any God of Power, I would Have sunk the sea within the earth, or

Prospero. There they hoist us, e'er

To cry to the sea that roar'd to us; to It should the good ship so have swallow'd, and

To the winds, whose pity, sigbing back The freighting souls within her!"

again, Already we love Miranda. “ Con

Did us but loving wrong!

Miranda. Alack ! what trouble trasted with the impression of her

Was I then to you! refined and dignified beauty, and its Prospero.

0, a cherubim effect on all beholders, is Miranda's Thou wast, that did preserve me! Thou own soft simplicity, her virgin inno

didst smile, cence, her total ignorance of the con- Infused with a fortitude from heaven! ventional forms and language of so- Miranda. How came we ashore ? ciety. It is most natural, that in a Prospero. By Providence divine. being thus constituted, the first tears Some food we had, and some fresh water, should spring from compassion, suf- that fering with those that she saw suffer.” A noble Neapolitan, Gonzalo, With what intent interest do we lig. Out of his charity (who being appointed ten, all the while gazing on her mira. Master of this design) did give us; with culous beauty, to her father's narra- Rich garments, linens, stuffs, and neces. tive, then first told to her, of their

saries, “strange eventful history !" The Isle Which since have steaded much; so of is felt to be indeed enchanted, ere bis gentleness, we have a glimpse of Ariel, who, to Knowing I loved my books, he furnish'd · answer his master's pleasure, is ready

me, « to fly,

From my own library, with volumes that To swim, to dive into the fire, to ride

I prize above my dukedom. On the curl'd clouds."

Miranda.

Would I might

But ever see that Man! Each touching sentence of the tale Prospero. Here in this island we arbrings out some delightful trait of rived, and here nature in Miranda; and in the soli. Have I, thy schoolmaster, made thee tary place, as “ up grew that living more profit

sigh

Than other princes can, that have more upon the winds, rode the curl'd clouds, time

and, in the colours of the rainbow, lived' For vainer hours, and tutors not so care. -Miranda herself appears a palpable ful.

reality, a woman, · breatbing thoughtful Miranda. Heaven thank thee for't.breath,' a woman, walking the earth in

her mortal loveliness, with a heart as Yes ! she has had a noble education. frail-strung, as passion-touched, as ever And she is grateful to Heaven for her fluttered in a female bosom. father's love. She is now-as we “I have said that Miranda possesses gather from the narrative-in her merely the elementary attributes of wofifteenth year-one year older than manhood, but each of these stand in her Juliet, “ alike, but oh! how differ

with a distinct and peculiar grace. She ent” from that other “snowy dove!”

« snowy dove resembles nothing upon earth; but do Never had she seen a man but her

we therefore compare her, in our own father. But she had read of her far

minds, with any of those fabled beings off kind, and when the ship went to

with which the fancy of ancient poets

peopled the forest depths, the fountain, pieces, she said, “ who had no doubt

or the ocean ?-Oread or dryad fleet, seasome noble creatures in her.” Much

maid, or naiad of the stream ? We canbad she pored, no doubt, over her

not think of them together. Miranda is father's books, and the Lady of the

a consistent, natural, human being. Our Enchanted Isle had bright ideas of impression of her nympb-like beauty, her her own, sweet imaginings of all that peerless grace and purity of soul, has a breathed and moved in the great distinct and individual character. Not cities of the remote world beyond only she is exquisitely lovely, being what her own waves. Phantoms all ! she is, but we are made to feel that she yet dear as she looked on the silent could not possibly be otherwise than as letters to her human heart. But let she is portrayed. She bas never bebeld one of her own sex draw her charac- one of her own sex; she has never caught ter. Had Shakspeare, she says, from society one imitated or artificial never created a Miranda, we should grace. The impulses which have come never have been made to feel how to her, in her enchanted solitude, are of completely the purely natural and heaven and nature, not of the world and the purely ideal can blend into each its vanities. She has sprung up into other.

beauty beneath the eye of her father, the

princely magician; her companions bave “ The character of Miranda resolves been the rocks and woods, the manyitself into the very elements of woman- shaped, many-tinted clouds, and the silent hood. She is beautiful, modest, and ten- stars; her playmates the ocean billows, der, and she is these only; they comprise that stooped their foamy crests, and ran her whole being, external and internal. rippling to kiss her feet. Ariel and his She is so perfectly unsophisticated, so attendant sprites hovered over her head, delicately refined, that she is all but ethe- ministered duteous to her every wish, real. Let us imagine any other woman and presented before her pageants of placed beside Miranda-even one of beauty and grandeur. The very air, made Shakspeare's own loveliest and sweetest vocal by her father's art, floated in music creations—there is not one of them that around her. If we can pre-suppose such could sustain the comparison for a mo, a situation with all its circumstances, do ment, not one that would not appear we not behold in the character of Mi. somewhat coarse or artificial when randa not only the credible, but the nabrought into immediate contact with this tural, the necessary results of such a sipure child of nature, this · Eve of an en- tuation? She retains her woman's heart, chanted Paradise.'

for that is unalterable and inalienable, as " What, then, bas Shakspeare done ? a part of her being ; but her deportment, .O wondrous skill and sweet wit of the her looks, ber language, her thoughtsman !'-he has removed Miranda far all these, from the supernatural and poefrom all comparison with her own sex; tical circumstances around her, assume a he has placed her between the demi-de- cast of the pure ideal; and to us, who mon of earth and the delicate spirit of are in the secret of her human and pityair. The next step is into the ideal and ing nature, nothing can be more charm,supernatural, and the only being who ap- ing and consistent than the effect which proaches Miranda, with whom she can she produces upon others, who never be contrasted, is Ariel. Beside the subtle having beheld any thing resembling ber, essence of this ethereal sprite, this crea- approach her as a wonder,' as someture of elemental light and air, that ran thing celestial.”

sir,

father

ning

Where is there in poetry any thing If now 'twere fit to do't:-At the first equal to the first scene between Fer

sight

[Aside. dinand and Miranda ? Lured on by They have chang'd eyes :--Delicate Ariel, the invisible Ariel, playing and sing. I'll set thee free for this !-A word, good ing the wildest of songs, the noble

sir ; Neapolitan approaches Prospero and I fear, you have done yourself some his daughter.

wrong: a word.

Mira. Why speaks my father so un“ Mira.

What is't? a spirit? gently? This Lord, how it looks about! Believe me, Is the third man that e'er I saw; the first

That e'er I sigh'd for : pity move my It carries a brave form :-But 'tis a spirit. Pro. No, wench; it eats and sleeps, To be inclin'd my way! and hath such senses

Fer.

o, if a virgin, As we have, such : This gallant, which And your affection not gone forth, I'll thou seest,

make you Was in the wreck; and but he's some. The queen of Naples. thing stain'd

Pro. Soft, sir : one word more. With grief, that's beauty's canker, thou They are both in either's powers : but might'st call him

this swift business A goodly person : he hath lost his fellows, I must uneasy make, lest too light winAnd strays about to find them.

ning

[Aside. Mira.

I might call him Make the prize light.-One word more ; A thing divine ; for nothing natural

I charge thee, I ever saw so noble.

That thou attend me: thou dost here Pro. It goes on, (Aside.

usurp As my soul prompts it :-Spirit, fine The name thou ow'st not; and hast put spirit! I'll free thee

thyself Within two days for this.

Upon this island, as a spy, to win it Fer.

Most sure, the goddess From me, the lord on't. On whom these airs attend!- Vouchsafe, Fer. No, as I am a man. my prayer

Mira. There's nothing ill can dwell in May know, if you remain upon this island;

such a temple : And that you will some good instruction If the ill spirit have so fair an house, give,

Good things will strive to dwell witli't. How I may bear me here : My prime re- Pro. Follow me.- [To Ferd. quest,

Speak not you for him; he's a traitor.Which i do last pronounce, is, O you

Come, wonder!

I'll manacle thy neck and feet together : If you be maid, or no?

Sea-water shalt thou drink, thy food shall be Mira.

No wonder, sir ; The fresh-brook muscles, wither'd roots, But, certainly a maid.

and husks Fer. My language ! heavens! Wherein the acorn cradled; Follow. I am the best of them that speak this Fer.

No; speech,

I will resist such entertainment, tili Were I but where 'tis spoken.

Mine enemy has more power. (He draus. Pro. How! the best ? Mira.

O dear father, What wert thou, if the king of Naples Make not too rash a trial of him, for heard thee?

He's gentle, and not fearful. Fer. A single thing, as I am now, that

What, I say, wonders

My foot my tutor !—Put thy sword up, To hear them speak of Naples; He does

· traitor; hear me ;

Who mak'st a show, but dar'st not strike, And, that he does, I weep: myself am

thy conscience Naples;

· Is so possess'd with guilt: come from tby Who with mine eyes, ne'er since at ebb, ward;

For I can here disarm thee with this stick, The king my father wreck'd.

And make thy weapon drop.
Mira.
Alack, for mercy! Mira.

Beseech you father! Fer. Yes, faith, and all his lords ; the Pro. Hence; hang not on my garments. duke of Milan,

Mira.

Sir, have pity; And his brave son, being twain.

I'll be his surety. Pro.

The duke of Milan, Pro. Silence; one word more And his more braver daughter, could con- Shall make me chide thee, if not hate thee. trol thee,

What!

C

Pro.

beheld

up.

An advocate for an impostor? hush! too, have their share in her bosom, Thou think'st there are no more such for her father's anger seems kindled shapes as he,

against him who she thought might Having seen but him and Caliban : Fool. be “ a spirit.” No tumult is in her ish wench!

veins—though her heart be beating To the most of men this is a Caliban, -and when Ferdinand says, And they to him are angels. Mira. My affections

"My prime request, Are then most humble; I have no am- Which I do last pronounce, is, o you bition

Wonder!
To see a goodlier man.

If you be maid or no?"
Pro. Come on; obey: [To Ferd. Her simplicity calmly answers,
Thy nerves are in their infancy again,

“ No wonder, sir;
And have no vigour in them.
Fer.

So they are; But certainly a maid !” My spirits, as in a dream, are all bound She says, indeed, “ this is the

first man that e'er I sighed for !" My father's loss, the weakness which I But how gentle must have been that feel,

sigh! Its sweetness but made her The wreck of all my friends, or this man's

pray—“ pity move my father to be threats,

inclined my way!” and at the close To whom I am subdued, are but light to of the scene. when she bids Ferdime,

nand be comforted, for that “ my Might I but through my prison once a-day

father's of a better nature, sir, than Behold this maid; all corners else o' the

he appears by speech,” her looks, no earth Let liberty make use of; space enough

doubt, like her language, are those Have I in such a prison.

but of pitiful and sorrowful affecPro. It works :- Come on.

tion-all that yet she knows of Love. Thou hast done well, fine Ariel !_ Fol- Enter FERDINAND, bearing a Log.

low me. - [TO FERD. and MIR. Fer. There be some sports are painful; Hark, what thou else shalt do me.

and their labour

[ To ARIEL. Delight in them sets off : some kinds of Mira. Be of comfort;

baseness My father's of a better nature, sir, Are nobly undergone; and most poor Than he appears by speech ; this is un

matters wonted,

Point to rich ends. This my mean task Which now came from bim.

Would be as heavy to me, as odious; but Pro.

Thou shalt be as free The mistress, which I serve, quickens As mountain winds; but then exactly do

what's dead, All points of my command.

And makes my labours pleasures : O, she To the syllable.

is Pro. Come, follow; speak not for him." Ten times more gentle than her father's

crabbed Juliet is thrilled to the heart's core And he's composed of harshness. I must

remove by the first kiss of Romeo. Her Life is in a moment Passion. She must

Some thousands of these logs, and pile . possess him or she dies. “ If he be

Upon a sore injunction: My sweet mismarried, my grave shall be my wed

tress ding-bed !" Sleep flies her till she

Weeps when she sees me work : and says, rest in Romeo's bosom. Yet is she

such baseness pure. His blood, too, is turned to

Had ne'er like executor. I forget : liquid fire. And from transient bliss But these sweet thoughts do even refresh they are hurried on by fatalities at

my labours; tending their passion to death. It Most busy-less, when I do it. burns to the last-the full flame is

ame 18 Enter MIRANDA; and Prosrero at a

Enter Mi extinguished all at once in the tomb.

Distance. Miranda as suddenly loves; but with Mira.

Alas, now! pray you, her 'tis all imagination-save the Work not so hard : I would, the lightsweet impulse of innocent nature,

ning had passion there is none. Surprise, Burnt up those logs, that you are enjoin'd wonder, admiration,delight-in them

to pile! she finds a new being, and it all ga- Pray, set it down, and rest you: wben thers upon Ferdinand. Pity and fear, this burns,

Ari.

them up,

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