626 A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM. Never mole, hare-lip, nor scar, Nor mark prodigious, such as are Shail upon their children be.- And each several chamber bless, And the owner of it blest. Trip away; Make no stay, Meet me all by break of day. [Exeunt OBERON, TITANIA, and Act V. Puck. If we shadows have offended, So, good night unto you all. Give me your hands, if we be friends, THE TEMPEST. LITERARY AND HISTORICAL NOTICE. THE supernatural agency which forms so leading a feature in this fanciful play, is built according to Mr. Warton) on the peculiar tenets of the Rosicrucian philosophy; the name of Ariel being derived from the Talmudistic mysteries with which the more learned Jews connected that science. It was one of Shakspeare's latest productions, and probably founded on some Italian novel. Warburton considers it sue of the noblest efforts of his sublime and amazing imagination:" a negative species of praise, since the pleasure which it creates arises from a boundless diversity of invention, from a continued succession of supernatural occurrences, devoid of application and destitute of moral, because the end is ootained by means beyond the ordinary compass of belief. In representation it is greatly dependent on the scenery and mechanism. The language, however, is throughout most forcible, and much of the sentiment chaste and magnificent. Caliban is an original creation; whimsical, monstrous, and impressive: but that meu, saved as it were by miracle from death, should immediately plot the destruction of their companions, to obtain dominions which there was no probability of their ever re-visiting, is a suggestion at variance with nature, and inconsistent with the spirit of the piece. Johnson says of The Tempest---“In a single drama are here exhibited princes, courtiers, and sailors, all speaking in their real characters. There is the agency of airy spirits, and of an earthly goblin. The operations of magic, the tumults of a storm, the adventures of a desert island, the native effusion of untaught affection, the punishment of guilt, and the final happiness of the pair for whom our passions and reason are equally interested." ALONSO, King of Naples. SEBASTIAN, his Brother. DRAMATIS PERSONE. Master of a Ship, Boatswain, and Mariners. PROSPERO, the rightful Duke of Milan. ANTONIO, his Brother, the usurping Duke of ARIEL, an Airy Spirit. Milan. IRIS, FERDINAND, Son to the King of Naples. ADRIAN, FRANCISCO, } Lords. NYMPHS, REAPERS, CALIBAN, a savage and deformed Slave. TRINCULO, a Jester. STEPHANO, a drunken Butler. Other Spirits attending on PROSPERO. SCENE-The Sea with a ship: afterwards an uninhabited Island. 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 thon hast aboard. Boats. None that I more love than myself. You are a counsellor; if you can comunand these elements to silence, and work the peace of the present, we will not band 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. Gon. Fhave great comfort from this fellow : metbirks, he bath no drowning mark upon hin; his complexion is perfect gallows. Stand fast, good fate, to his hanging! make the rope of his No more amazement: tell your piteous heart, destiny our cable, for our own doth little advan-There's no harm done. tage! If he be not born to be hanged, our Mira. O woe the day! case is miserable. I Pro. No harm. have done nothing but in care of thee, (Of thee, my dear one! thee, my daughter!) who Art ignorant of what thou art, nought know. ing Of whence I am; nor that I am more better Than Prospero, master of a full poor cell, And the no greater father. Mira. More to know Did never meddle with my thoughts. I should inform thee further. Lend thy band, Ant. Hang, cur, hang you whoreson, inso-The lent noise-maker, we are less afraid to be drowned than thou art. Gon. I'll warrant him from drowning; though the ship were no stronger than a nut-shell, and as leaky as an unstanched⚫ wench. Boats. Lay her a-hold, a-hold; set her two courses; off to sea again, lay her off. [A confused noise within.] Mercy on us. We split, we split ! Farewell, my wife and children -Farewell, brother!— We split, we split, we split. [Exit. Ant. Let's all sink with the king. Seb. Let's take leave of him. Exit. 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 done! but I would fain die a dry death. Exit. SCENE II.-The Island: before the Cell of PROSPERO. Enter PROSPERO and MIRANDA. Mira. If by your art, my dearest father, you have 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, Dashes the fire out. Oh! I have suffer'd Dash'd all to pieces, Ob! the cry did knock Against my very heart! Poor souls they perish'd. Had I been any god of power, I would Have sunk the sea within the earth, or e'er t and The freighting sonds within her. Pro. Be collected; comfort. direful spectacle of the wreck, which The very virtue of compassion in thee For thou must now know further. Begun to tell me what I am; but stopp'd Pro. The hour's now come; A time before we came unto this cell! 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 And rather like a dream than an assurance In the dark backward and abysm + of time! bere How thou cam'st here thou may'st. Pro. Twelve years since, Miranda, twelve years since, Thy father was the duke of Milan, and Mira. Sir, are not you my father? Was duke of Milan; and his only heir What foul play bad we, that we came from thence? Or blessed was't we did? Pro. Both, both, my girl: By foul play, as thou say'st, were we heav ́ð thence; But blessedly holp bither. Mira. O my heart bleeds To think o' the teen that I have turn'd you to, Scene II. THE TEMPEST. Which is from my remembrance! Please you [Of homage, and I know not how much trifurther. Pro. My brother, and thy uncle, call'd An- I pray thee mark me,-that a brother should bute, Should presently extirpate me and mine The gates of Milan; and, i' the dead of dark ness, And Prospero the prime duke; being so re- The ministers for the purpose hurried thence puted In dignity, and, for the liberal arts, Without a parallel; those being all my study, ported, Me and thy crying self. Mira, Alack, for pity! 1, not rememb'ring how I cried out then, trans-That wrings mine eyes. And wrapt in secret studies. Thy false uncle- Mira. Sir, most heedfully. Pro. Being once perfected how to grant suits, How to deny them; whom to advance, and To trash for over-topping: new created Or else new-form'd them: having both the Of officer and office, set all hearts To what tune pleased his ear; that now he was tend'st not: I pray thee, mark me. Mira. O good Sir, I do. Pro. I thus neglecting worldly ends, all cate To closeness, and the bettering of my mind ther Awak'd an evil nature and my trust, A falsehood, in its contrary as great Pro. Hear a little further, And then I'll bring thee to the present busi ness Which now's upon as; without the which, this Were most impertinent. Mira. Wherefore did they not Pro. Well demanded, wench; My tale provokes that question. Dear, they durst not; (So dear the love my people bore me) nor set A rotten carcass of a boat, not rigg'd, bro As my trust was which had, indeed, no limit, Jorded, He being thus Not only with what my revenue yielded, one, Who, having, unto truth, by telling of it, Mira. Your tale, Sir, would cure deafness. And him he play'd it for, needs he will be He thinks me now incapable: confederates To give him annual tribute, do him homage; Against what should ensue. Mira. How came we ashore ? Some food we had, and some fresh water, that Out of his charity, (who being then appointed Knowing I lov'd my books, he furnish'd me, Ariel, and all his quality. Pro. Hast thou, spirit, Pro. Ariel, thy charge Exactly is perform'd; but there's more work : What is the time o' the day ! Ari. Past the mid season. Pro. At least two glasses: the time "twixt six and now, Must by us both be spent most preciously. Ari. Is there more toil? Since thon dest give me pains, Let me remember thee what thou hast promis'd, Which is not yet perform'd me. Pro. How now ? moody? What is't thou canst demand? Ari. My liberty. Pro. Before the time be out? no more. Remember, I have done thee worthy service; Perform'd to point the tempest that I bade Told thee no lies, made no mistakings, serv'd thee ? Ari. Not a soul 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? But was not this nigh shore ? Ari. Close by, my master. Pro. But are they, Ariel, safe? On their sustaining garments not a blemish, me, In troops I have dispers'd them 'bout the isle : 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 nook, where Without or grudge or grumblings: thou didst promise To bate me a full year, Pro. Dost thou forge. From what a torment I did free thee ! Pro. Thou dost! and think'st It much, to tread the ooze of the salt deep; Pro. Thou liest, malignant thing! Hast thon forgot The foul witch Sycorax, who, with age, and envy, Was grown into a hoop? hast thou forgot her! Ari. No, Sir. Pro. Thou hast: where was she born ? speak; tell me. Ari. Sir, in Argier.⚫ Pro. Oh! was she so? I must, Once in a month, recount what thou hast been, Which thou forget'st. This damn'd witch, Sycorax, For mischiefs manifold, and sorceries terrible They would not take her life: Is not this tree! Pro. This blue-ey'd hag was hither brought with child, And here was left by the sailors. Thou, my slave, As thou report'st thyself, wast then her servant, And, for thou wast a spirit too delicate thee, By help of her more potent ministers, A dozen years; within which space she died, And left thee there; where thou did'st vent thy groans, As fast as mill-wheels strike: then was this island, (Save for the son that she did litter here, A freckled whelp, hag-boru) not honour'd with A human shape. Ari. Yes; Caliban ber son. Pro. Dull thing, I say so; he, that Caliban, Whom now I keep in service. Thon best know'st What torment I did find thee in: thy groans Did make wolves howl, and penetrate the breasts Of ever-angry bears; it was a forment |