Juno. Honour, riches, marriage, blessing, Barns, and garners never empty; Fer. This is a most majestic vision, and Pro. Spirits, which by mine art I have from their confines call'd, to enact My present fancies. Fer. Let me live here ever: So rare a wonder'd father, and a wise, Makes this place Paradise. Pro. Sweet now, silence! [JUNO and CERES whisper, and send IRIS on employment. Juno and Ceres whisper seriously; There's something else to do. Hush, and be mute, Or else our spell is marr'd. Iris. You nymphs, call'd Naiads, of the wand'ring brooks, With your sedg'd crowns, and ever-harmless looks, Leave your crisp channels, and on this green land Answer your summons: Juno does command. Come, temperate nymphs, and help to celebrate A contract of true love: be not too late. Enter certain Nymphs. You sun-burn'd sicklemen, of August weary, Come hither from the furrow, and be merry. Enter certain Reapers, properly habited: they Fer. This is strange: your father's in some passion That works him strongly. Mira. Never till this day, Saw I him touch'd with anger so distemper'd. Pro. You do look, my son, in a mov'd sort, As if you were dismay'd be cheerful, sir. Our revels now are ended. These our actors, As I foretold you, were all spirits, and Are melted into air, into thin air: And, like the baseless fabric of this vision, The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces, The solemn temples, the great globe itself, Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve, And, like this insubstantial pageant faded, Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff As dreams are made on; and our little life Is rounded with a sleep.-Sir, I am vex'd: Bear with my weakness; my old brain is troubled: Be not disturb'd with my infirmity. If you be pleas'd, retire into my cell, Fer. Mira. We wish your peace. [Exeunt. ears, Advanc'd their eye-lids, lifted up their noses, Which enter'd their frail shins: at last I left them I' th' filthy mantled pool beyond your cell, Pro. Pro. A devil, a born devil, on whose nature Nurture can never stick; on whom my pains, Humanely taken, all, all lost, quite lost; And as with age his body uglier grows, So his mind cankers. I will plague them all, Enter ARIEL, loaden with glistering apparel, &c. Even to roaring.-Come, hang them on this line. Enter CALIBAN, STEPHANO, and TRINCULO, all wet. Cai. Pray you, tread softly, that the blind mole may Not hear a foot fall: we now are near his cell. Ste. Monster, your fairy, which, you say, is a harmless fairy, has done little better than play'd the Jack with us. Trin. Monster, my nose is in great indignation. Ste. So is mine. Do you hear, monster? If I should take a displeasure against you; look you, Trin. Thou wert but a lost monster. Cal. Good my lord, give me thy favour still. Be patient, for the prize I'll bring thee to Shall hood-wink this mischance: therefore, speak softly; All's hush'd as midnight yet. Trin. Ay, but to lose our bottles in the pool,Ste. There is not only disgrace and dishonour in that, monster, but an infinite loss. Trin. That's more to me than my wetting: yet this is your harmless fairy, monster. Ste. I will fetch off my bottle, though I be o'er ears for my labour. [here, Cal. Pr'ythee, my King, be quiet. Seest thou This is the mouth o' th' cell: no noise, and enter: Do that good mischief, which may make this island Thine own for ever, and I, thy Caliban, For aye thy foot-licker. [bloody thoughts. Ste. Give me thy hand. I do begin to have Trin. O King Stephano! O peer! O worthy Stephano! look, what a wardrobe here is for thee! Cal. Let it alone, thou fool: it is but trash. Trin. O, ho, monster! we know what belongs to a frippery :-O King Stephano! Ste. Put off that gown, Trinculo: by this hand, I'll have that gown. Trin. Thy grace shall have it. [mean, Cal. The dropsy drown this fool! what do you To doat thus on such luggage? Let's alone, And do the murther first: if he awake, From toe to crown he'll fill our skins with pinches; Make us strange stuff. Ste. Be you quiet, monster.-Mistress line, is not this my jerkin? Now is the jerkin under the line: now, jerkin, you are like to lose your hair, and prove a bald jerkin. [and 't like your grace. Trin. Do, do : we steal by line and level, Ste. I thank thee for that jest; here's a garment for't: wit shall not go unrewarded, while I am King of this country. "Steal by line and level," is an excellent pass of pate; there's another garment for't. Trin. Monster, come, put some lime upon your fingers, and away with the rest. [time, Cal. I will have none on't: we shall lose our And all be turn'd to barnacles, or to apes With foreheads villainous low. Ste. Monster, lay-to your fingers help to bear this away, where my hogshead of wine is, or I'll turn you out of my kingdom. Go to; carry this. Trin. And this. Ste. Ay, and this. A noise of hunters heard. Enter divers Spirits, in Enter PROSPERO in his magic robes; and ARIEL. SCENE I.-Before the Cell of PROSPERO. Pro. Now does my project gather to a head: My charms crack not, my spirits obey, and Time Goes upright with his carriage. How's the day? In the same fashion as you gave in charge; His tears run down his heard, like winter's drops From eaves of reeds. Your charm so strongly works them, That if you now beheld them, your affections Pro. Dost thou think so, spirit? And mine shall. Yet, with my nobler reason, 'gainst my fury Ari. and groves; And ye, that on the sands with printless foot time Have I given fire, and rifted Jove's stout oak circle which PROSPERO had made, and there stand charmed; which PROSPERO observing, speaks. There A solemn air, and the best comforter To him thou follow'st, I will pay thy graces You brother mine, that entertain'd ambition, Expell'd remorse and nature; who, with Sebastian, [strong,) (Whose inward pinches therefore are most Would here have kill'd your king; I do forgive thee, [ing Unnatural though thou art.-Their understandBegins to swell, and the approaching tide Will shortly fill the reasonable shores, That now lie foul and muddy. Not one of them, That yet looks on me, or would know me.-Ariel, Fetch me the hat and rapier in my cell [Exit ARIEL. I will dis-case me, and myself present, As I was sometime Milan.-Quickly, spirit; Thou shalt ere long be free. ARIEL enters, singing, and helps to attire him. Ari. Where the bee sucks, there suck I; In a cowslip's bell I lie; There I couch when owls do cry. On the bat's back I do fly, After summer, merrily. Merrily, merrily, shall I live now, Under the blossom that hangs on the bough. Pro. Why, that's my dainty Ariel! I shall miss thee; But yet thou shalt have freedom-so, so, so.— Ari. I drink the air before me, and return Inhabits here: some heavenly power guide us The wronged Duke of Milan, Prospero. Alon. Whe'r thou beest he, or no, Pro. Or be not, I'll not swear. Pro. Whether this be, You do yet taste But you, my brace of lords, were I so minded, Seb. [Aside.] The devil speaks in him. No. For you, most wicked sir, whom to call brother Alon. If thou beest Prospero, Give us particulars of thy preservation: [since How thou hast met us here, whom three hours Were wrack'd upon this shore, where I have lost (How sharp the point of this remembrance is!) My dear son Ferdinand. Pro. I am woe for't, sir. Alon. Irreparable is the loss; and Patience Says it is past her cure. Pro. I rather think, [grace, You have not sought her help; of whose soft For the like loss, I have her sovereign aid, And rest myself content. Alon. You the like loss? Pro. As great to me, as late; and, supportable To make the dear loss, have I means much weaker Than you may call to comfort you; for I Have lost my daughter. Alon. A daughter? O heavens that they were living both in Naples, The King and Queen there! that they were, I wish Myself were mudded in that oozy bed [daughter Where my son lies. When did you lose your Pro. In this last tempest. I perceive, these lords At this encounter do so much admire, That they devour their reason, and scarce think Their eyes do offices of truth, their words Are natural breath; but, howsoe'er you have Been justled from your senses, know for certain, That I am Prospero, and that very duke Which was thrust forth of Milan; who most strangely [landed, Upon this shore, where you were wrack'd, was To be the lord on 't. No more yet of this; For 'tis a chronicle of day by day, Not a relation for a breakfast, nor Befitting this first meeting. Welcome, sir; This cell's my court: here have I few attendants, Boats. The best news is, that we have safely Our King, and company: the next, our ship, Here PROSPERO discovers FERDINAND and MI- Have I done since I went. Mira. Sweet lord, you play me false. Alon. If this prove A vision of the island, one dear son Seb. [FER. kneels to ALON. Pro. [Aside. Pro. My tricksy spirit! Alon. These are not natural events; they strengthen [hither? From strange to stranger.-Say, how came you Boats. If I did think, sir, I were well awake, I'd strive to tell you. We were dead of sleep, And (how we know not) all clapp'd under hatches, Where, but even now, with strange and several noises Of roaring, shrieking, howling, jingling chains, trod; And there is in this business more than Nature Pro. I am hers. But O, how oddly will it sound, that I Must ask my child forgiveness! Pro. Let us not burthen our remembrances Alon. I say, Amen, Gonzalo. [issue Be it so: Amen. Enter ARIEL, with the Master and Boatswain amazedly following. O look, sir! look, sir! here is more of us. This fellow could not drown.-Now, blasphemy, shore? "Hast thou no mouth by land? What is the news? and TRINCULO, in their stolen apparel. Ste. Every man shift for all the rest, and let no man take care for himself, for all is but fortune.-Coragio, bully-monster, coragio! Trin. If these be true spies that I wear in my head, here's a goodly sight. Cal. O Setebos! these be brave spirits, indeed. Seb. Ha, ha! What things are these, my lord Antonio? C Find this grand liquor that hath gilded 'em?-- Trin. I have been in such a pickle, since I saw you last, that, I fear me, will never out of my bones: shall not fear fly-blowing. Seb. Why, how now, Stephano! [a cramp. Cal. Ay, that I will; and I'll be wise hereafter, Pro. [Exeunt CAL., STE., and TRIN. INTRODUCTION TO THE TWO AMONG the many unaccountable and incomprehensible blunders of the critics of the last century, with regard to Shakespeare and his works, was the denial by two of them,-Hanmer and Upton-and the doubt by more, that he wrote The Two Gentlemen of Verona. An important and often-quoted passage in the Palladis Tamia, of Francis Meres, published in 1598, mentions this play first among the twelve which the author cites in support of his opinion, that "Shakespeare among the English is the most excellent in both kinds [comedy and tragedy] for the stage." But this uncontradicted testimony, and that of Shakespeare's friends and fellow-actors, who superintended the publication of the folio of 1623, is hardly needed; for so unmistakably does Shakespeare's hand appear in the play, from Valentine's first speech to his last, that were a copy of it found without a name upon its title-page, or a claimant in the literature or the memorandum-books of its day, it would be attributed to Shakespeare by general acclamation. Who but he could then have written the first ten lines of it, where Valentine says to Proteus,~~ "affection chains thy tender days To the sweet glances of thy honour'd love," and gently reproves him for living "sluggardiz'd at home, wearing out his youth "in shapeless idleness"? There has been but one man in the world whose daring fancies were so fraught with meaning. Who but he could have created Launce or Launce's dog? Indeed, it is safe to say that, however inferior it may be to the productions of his maturer years, even The Tempest and King Lear are not more unmistakably Shakespearian in character than The Two Gentlemen of Verona. EPILOGUE. SPOKEN BY PROSPERO. [Now my charms are all o'erthrown, As you from crimes would pardon'd be, GENTLEMEN OF VERONA. The play was first printed in the folio of 1623, and with very few corruptions. The most remarkable error in the original text is that which occurs in Act II., Sc. 5, where Speed, being in Milan, bids Launce "welcome to Padua,"-a place with which the plot has no relations whatever. Mr. Halliwell suggests that the name is perhaps a relic of some old Italian story, upon which the play may have been founded. This is not impossible; but mistakes as great occur sometimes even in the present day; and this one can hardly be received even as cumulative evidence that the play is constructed upon an undiscoverable, forgotten story. Some similarity has been noticed between a scene and some of the incidents in this play, and certain passages of the story of the Shepherdess Felismena in the Diana of George de Montemajor. Such are the refusal of the mistress to receive a letter brought by her maid, with the final success o the latter in obtaining a hearing for the lover,the departure of the lover to a foreign court, where he loves another lady, the determination of his old mistress to follow him in boy's clothes, and her reception into his service as page, after having, in company with her host, heard him serenade his new love,-and his choice of her as his confidant and messenger in his suit. These incidents, however, are not uncommon in the many romances with which Shakespeare must have been familiar; and their similarity to some passages in Twelfth Night will at once occur to the reader. In that play, the likeness to this story of Felismena is yet greater; for in the latter the scornful lady falls in love with the forlorn damsel, who, in a page's dress, woos her for another. But the companionship-that of her |