Foot it feally here and there,

And, fweet Sprites, the burthen bear.

[Burthen, difperfedly.

Hark, hark, bough-waugh: the watch-dogs bark, baugh

waugh.

Ari. Hark, bark, I hear

The ftrain of frutting chanticlere

Cry, Cock-a-doodle-do.

Fer. Where should this mufic bé; i' th' air, or earth?----It founds no more: and, fure, it waits upon Some god o' th' ifland. Sitting on a bank, Weeping against the King my father's wreck, This mufic crept by me upon the waters; Allaying both their fury and my paffion, With its fweet air; thence I have follow'd it, Or it hath drawn me rather-but 'tis gone. No, it begins again..

ARIEL'S SONG.

Full fathom five thy father lies,
Of his bones are coral made:
Thofe are pearls, that were his eyes;
Nothing of him that doth fade,
But doth fuffer a fea-change,
Into fomething rich and frange.
Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell.

Hark, now I hear them, ding-dong, bell.

[Burthen: ding-dong.

Fer. The ditty does remember my drown'd father;

This is no mortal business, nor no found

That the earth owns: I hear it now above me.

SCENE VI.

Pro. The fringed curtains of thine advance,

And fay, what thou feeft yond.

Mira. What is't, a spirit?

eyes

Lord, how it looks about! believe me, Sir,

It carries a brave form. But 'tis a spirit.

Pro. No, wench; it eats, and fleeps, and hath such

fenfes

As we have, fuch. This gallant, which thou feeft,

B 2

Was

Was in the wreck: and, but he's fomething ftain'd With grief, (that's beauty's canker,) thou might's call

him

A goodly perfon. He hath loft his fellows,
And ftrays about to find 'em.

Mira. I might call him

A thing divine; for nothing natural

I ever faw fo noble.

Pro. It goes on, I fee,

[Afide

As my foul prompts it. Spirit, fine fpirit, I'll free thee

Within two days for this.

Fer. Moft fure, the goddess

On whom these ayres attend! vouchsafe, my pray'r
May know, if you remain upon this island;

And that you will fome good inftruction give,
How I may

bear me here: my prime request

(Which I do laft pronounce) is, O you wonder! If you be made or no?

Mira. No wonder, Sir,

But certainly a maid.

Fer. My language! heav'ns!

I am the best of them that fpeak this fpeech,
Were I but where 'tis spoken!

Pro. How? the best?

What wert thou, if the King of Naples heard thee?
Fer. A fingle thing, as I am now, that wonders
To hear thee speak of Naples. He does hear me;
And that he does, I weep: myself am Naples,
Who with mine eyes (ne'er fince at ebb) beheld
The King my father wreck'd.

Mira. Alack, for mercy!

Fer. Yes, faith, and all his lords; the Duke of Milan, And his brave fon, being twain.

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 fet thee free for this.) A word, good Sir.
I fear, you've done yourself fome

wrong: a word.
Mira. Why fpeaks my father fo ungently? this
Is the third man that I e'er faw; the first
That e'er I figh'd for. Pity move my father

To

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 uneafy make, left too light winning

Make the prize light. Sir, one word more; I charge thee,

That thou attend me:-thou dost here ufurp

The name thou ow'ft not, and haft put thyself.
Upon this island, as a fpy, to win it

From me, the lord on't.

Fer. No, as I'm a man.

Mira. There's nothing ill can dwell in fuch a temple. If the ill fpirit have fo fair an houfe,

Good things will ftrive to dwell with't. :

Pro. Follow me

Speak not you for him: he's a traitor. Come,
I'll anacle thy neck and feet together;
Sea-water fhalt thou drink; thy food shall be
The fresh-brook muffels, wither'd roots, and husks
Wherein the acorn cradled. Follow.

Fer. No;

I will refift fuch entertainment, till..

Mine

enemy has more power.

[He draws, and is charm'd from moving.

Mira. O dear father,

Make not too fash a trial of him; for

He's gentle, and not fearful..

Pro. What, I fay,

My foot my tutor? put thy fword up, traitor,

Who mak'it a fhew, but dar'ft not strike; thy confcience Is fo poffefs'd with guilt: come from thy ward;

For I can here difarm thee with this ftick,

And make thy weapon drop.

Mira. Befeech

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 impoftor? hush!

Thou think'it there are no more fuch fhapes as he,
Having feen but him and Caliban; foolish wench!
To th' moft of men this is a Caliban,

And they to him are angels.

Mira. My affections

Are then moft humble: I have no ambition

To fee 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 fpirits, as in a dream, are all bound up.
My father's lofs, the weakness which I feel,

The wreck of all my friends, and this man's threats,
- To whom I am fubdu'd, were but light to me,
Might I but through my prifon once a day
Behold this maid: all corners elfe o' th' earth
Let liberty make ufe of; fpace enough
Have I in fuch a prison.

Pro. It works: come on.

(Thou haft done well, fine Ariel:) follow me.

Hark, what thou elfe fhalt do me.

Mira. Be of comfort,

My father's of a better nature, Sir,
Than he appears by fpeech.
Which now came from him.

Pro. Thou fhalt be as free

This is unwonted,

As mountain-winds; but then exactly do
All points of my command.

Ari. To th' fyllable.

Pro. Come, follow: speak not for him.

ACT II. SCENE I.

Another part of the island.

[To Ariel

[Exeunt.

Enter Alonfo, Sebaftian, Anthonic, Gonzalo, Adrian, Fran

cifco, and others.

Gon. BESEECH

you, Sir, be

merry: you have caufe

(So have we all) of joy! for our escape
Is much beyond our lofs; our flint of woe

Is common; every day, fome failor's wife,

The mafters of fome merchant, and the merchant,
Have juft our theme of woe: but for the miracle,
(I mean our prefervation,) few in millions
Can fpeak like us: then wifely, good Sir, weigh
Our forrow with our comfort.

Alon. Pr'ythee, peace *.

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

Seb. Look, he's winding up the watch of his wit, by and by it will strike.

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

Seb. A dollor.

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

Seb. You have taken it wifelier than I meant you fhould.

Gon. Therefore, my Lord

Ant. Fie, what a spendthrift is he of his tongue?

Alon. I pr'ythee, fpare.-

Gon. Well, I have done: but yet—

Seb. He will be talking.

Ant. Which of them, he, or Adrian, for a good wa

ger, firft begins to crow?

Seb. The old cock.

Ant. The cockrel.

Seb. Done: the wager?

Ant. A laughter.

Seb. A match.

Adr. Though this ifland feem to be defart

Seb. Ha, ha, ha; So, you're paid.

Adr. Uninhabitable, and almost inacceffible

Seb.

All this that follows after the words Pr'ythee, peace.-to the words, You cram these words, &c. feems to have been interpolated, (perhaps by the players;) the verfes there beginning again; and all that is between in profe, not only, being very impertinent fluff, but moft improper and ill-placed drollery, in the mouths of unhappy hip-wrecked people. There is more of the fame fort interfperfed in the remaining part of the scene. Pepe.