the Publishers of the present Edition to attain; for they are fully aware, that upon this alone the permanent reputation of their book must depend. The standard by which they are willing that their pretensions should be tried, is the well-known edition produced under the inspection of Johnson, Reed, and Steevens, which, being universally admitted to be the most correct that has yet appeared, they adopted as the text from which their own has been printed. They will not deny, that, in executing their task, they were sometimes, though infrequently, struck with instances, in which they ventured to think the punctuation might admit of improvement; but the temptations to innovation thence arising, they uniformly resisted. They have themselves no name; and they doubt whether the sanction of any modern name would attach as much confidence as it would take away, from a work that should deviate, even in a small degree, from the labow's of those enlightened commentators. SCENE, The sea, with a ship; afterwards an uninhabited island. SCENE I.-On a ship at sea. A storm with thunder and lightning. ACT I. Enter ALONZO, SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, FERDINAND, GONZALO, and others. Alon. Good boatswain, have care. Where's the master? Play the men. Boats. I pray now, keep below. Ant. Where is the master, boatswain? Boats. Do you not hear him? You mar our labour; keep your cabins: you do assist the storm. Gon. Nay, good, be patient. Boats. When the sea is. Hence! What care these roarers for the name of king? To cabin: silence: trouble us not. Gon. Good; yet remember whom thou hast aboard. Boats. None that I more love than myself. You are a counsellor; if you can command these SCENE II.- The Island: before the Cell of PROSPERO. Enter PROSPERO and MIRANDA. elements to silence, and work the peace of the present, we shall not hand a rope more; use your authority. If you cannot, give thanks you have lived so long, and make yourself ready in your cabin for the mischance of the hour, if it so hap.-Cheerly, good hearts. Out of our way, I say. [Exit. Mira. If by your art, my dearest father, you have Gon. I have great comfort from this fellow: methinks, he hath no drowning mark upon him; his complexion is perfect gallows. Stand fast, good fate, to his hanging! make the rope of his destiny our cable, for our own doth little advantage! If he be not born to be hanged, our case is miserable. [Exeunt. Re-enter Boatswain. Boats. Down with the top-mast; yare; lower, lower; bring her to try with main-course. cry within. A plague upon this howling! they are louder than the weather, or our office. Re-enter SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, and GONZALO. Yet again? what do you here? Shall we give o'er, and drown? Have you a mind to sink? Seb. A pox o' your throat! you bawling, blasphemous, incharitable dog! Boats. Work you, then. Ant. Hang, cur, hang! you whoreson, insolent noise-maker, we are less afraid to be drown ed than thou art. Gon. I'll warrant him from drowning; tho' the ship were no stronger than a nut-shell, and as leaky as an unstaunched wench. Boats. Lay her a-hold, a-hold; set her two courses; off to sea again, lay her off. Gon. Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea for an acre of barren ground; long heath, brown furze, any thing: The wills above be Put the wild waters in this roar, allay them: The sky, it seems, would pour down stinking pitch, But that the sea, mounting to the welkin's cheek, Pro. Be collected; Mira. O, woe the day! I have done nothing but in care of thee, thee, my (Of thee, dear one! thee, my daughter!) who Art ignorant of what thou art, nought knowing Of whence I am; nor that I am more better Than Prospero, master of a full poor cell, And thy no greater father. Mira. More to know Did never meddle with my thoughts. Pro. 'Tis time I should inform thee further. Lend thy hand, And pluck my magic garment from me.-So; [Lays down his mantle. Lie there my art.-Wipe thou thine eyes; have comfort. The direful spectacle of the wreck, which touch'd sink. Sit down; For thou must now know further. Mira. You have often Begun to tell me what I am; but stopp'd, Pro. The hour's now come: I do not think thou can'st; for then thou wast not Out three years old. Mira. Certainly, sir, I can. Pro. By what? by any other house, or person? Of any thing the image tell me, that Mira. 'Tis far off; done! but I would fain die a dry death. Exit. | And rather like a dream than an assurance, In the dark backward and abysm of time? As my trust was; which had, indeed, no limit, A confidence sans bound. He, being thus lorded, Not only with what my revenue yielded, Who having, unto truth, by telling of it, To credit his own lie, he did believe If thou remember'st aught, ere thou cam'st here, But what my power might else exact,-like How thou cam'st here, thou may'st., Pro. Twelve years since, Miranda, twelve Made such a sinner of his memory, years since, Thy father was the duke of Milan, and A prince of power. Mira. Sir, are not you my father? Pro. Thy mother was a piece of virtue, and She said thou wast my daughter; and thy father Was duke of Milan; and his only heir A princess;-no worse issued. Mira. O, the heavens! He was the duke; out of the substitution, Mira. Your tale, sir, would cure deafness. Pro. To have no screen between this part he What foul play had we, that we came from Absolute Milan: Me, poor man!-my library thence? Or blessed was't, we did? Pro. Both, both, my girl: play'd And him he played it for, he needs will be He thinks me now incapable: confederates To give him annual tribute, do him homage; By foul play, as thou say'st, were we heav'd (So dry he was for sway) with the king of Naples, thence; Pro. My brother, and thy uncle call'd Antonio, I pray thee, mark me, that a brother should Without a parallel; those being all my study, And to my state grew stranger, being transported, And rapt in secret studies. Thy false uncleDost thou attend me? Mira. Sir, most heedfully. Pro. Being once perfected how to grant suits, How to deny them; whom to advance, and whom To trash for over-topping; new created The creatures that were mine; I say, or chang'd Mira. O, the heavens! Pro. Mark his condition, and the event; then tell me, If this might be a brother. To think but nobly of my grandmother : Pro. Now the condition. This king of Naples, being an enemy Out of the dukedom; and confer fair Milan, Pro. I thus neglecting worldly ends, all de- That hour destroy us? dicate To closeness, and the bettering of my mind With that, which, but by being so retir'd, Pro. Well demanded, wench; My tale provokes that question. Dear, they durst not; (So dear the love my people bore me) nor set Mira. Alack! what trouble Was I then to you! Pro. O! a cherubim Thou wast, that did preserve me! Thou didst O' the dreadful thunder-claps, more momentary smile, And sight-out-running were not: The fire, and cracks Infused with a fortitude from heaven, Mira. How came we ashore? Some food we had, and some fresh water, that Out of his charity, (who being then appointed Master of this design,) did give us; with Rich garments, linens, stuffs, and necessaries, Which since have steaded much; so, of his, gentleness, Knowing I lov'd my books, he furnish'd me, Mira. 'Would I might But ever see that man! Sit still, and hear the last of our sea-sorrow. Mira. Heavens thank you for't! And now, I pray you, sir, (For still 'tis beating in my mind,) your reason For raising this sea-storm? Pro. Know thus far forth. By accident most strange, bountiful Fortune, If now I court not, but omit, my fortunes tions; Thou art inclin'd to sleep; 'tis a good dulness, And give it way; I know thou can'st not choose.[Miranda sleeps. Come away, servant, come: I am ready now; Approach, my Ariel; come. Enter ARIEL. Ari. All hail, great master! grave sir, hail! I come But felt a fever of the mad, and play'd With hair up-staring, (then like reeds, not hair,) Was the first man that leap'd; cried, Hell is empty, And all the devils are here. Pro. Why, that's my spirit! Ari. Not a hair perish'd; On their sustaining garments not a blemish, Pro. Of the king's ship, The mariners, say, how thou hast dispos'd, Ari. Safely in harbour Is the king's ship; in the deep rook, where once Thou call'det me up at midnight to fetch dew From the still-vex'd Bermoothes, there she's hid: The mariners all under hatches stow'd; Whom, with a charm join'd to their suffer'd lahour, I have left asleep: and for the rest o' the fleet, Pro. Ariel, thy charge |