A FINE APOSIOPESIS.

They fell together all, as by consent; They droppd, as by a thunder-stroke. What might, Worthy Sebastian?-0, what might?--No more:-And yet, methinks, I see it in thy face, What thou should'st be: the occasion speaks thee:

and My strong imagination sees a crown Dropping upon thy head.

CALIBAN'S CURSES, All the infections that the sun sucks up From bogs, fens, flats, on Prospero fall, and make him By inch-meal a disease! His spirits hear me, And yet I needs must curse. But they'll nor pinch, Fright me with urchin shows, pitch me i' the mire, Nor lead me, like a fire-brand, in the dark Out of my way, unless he bid them; but For every trifle are they set upon me: Sometimes like apes, that moe* and chatter at me, And after, bite me; then like hedge-hogs, which Lie tumbling in my bare-foot way, and mount Their pricks at my foot-fall; sometime am I All wound with adders, who, with cloven tongues, Do hiss me into madness: Lo! now! lo! Here comes a spirit of his; and to torment me, For bringing wood in slowly; I'll fall flat: Perchance he will not mind me,

SATIRE ON ENGLISH CURIOSITY.

Were I in England now (as once I was,) and had but this fish painted, not a holiday-fool there but would give a piece of silver; there would this monster make a man; any strange beast there makes a man: when they will not give a doit to relieve a lame beggar, they will lay out ten to see a dead Indian.

CALIBAN'S PROMISES. I'll show thee the best springs; I'll pluck thee bere

ries; I'll fish for thee, and get thee wood enough, A plague upon the tyrant that I serve!

t'll bear him no more sticks, but follow thee,
Thou wond'rous man.
I pr’ythee, let me bring thee where crabs grow;
And I with my long nails will dig thee pig-nuts;
Show thee a jay's nest, and instruct thee how
To snare the nimble marmozet; I'll bring thee
To clust'ring filberds, and sometimes I'll get thee
Young sea-mells* from the rock.

ACT III.

FERDINAND.

ness

There be some sports are painful; but their labour Delight in them sets off: some kinds of baseness Are nobly undergone; and most poor matters Point to rich ends. This my mean task would be As heavy to me, as 'tis odious; but The mistress which I serve, quickens what's dead, And makes my labours pleasures: 0, she is Ten times more gentle than her father's crabbed; And he's composed of harshness. I must remove Some thousands of these logs, and pile them up, Upon a sore injunction: My sweet mistress Weeps when she sees me work: and says, such bases Had ne'er like executor. I forget: But these sweet thoughts do even refresh my labours; Most busy-less, when I do it.

Enter MIRANDA; and PROSPÉRO at a distance.

Mira. Alas, now! pray you,
Work not so hard: I would the lightning had
Burnt up those logs, that you are enjoined to pile!
Pray, sit it down, and rest you: when this burns,

Twill weep for having weăried you: My father
Is hard at study; pray now, rest yourself;
He's safe for these three hours.
Fer.

O most dear mistress,
The sun will set, before I shall discharge,
What I must strive to do.
Mira.

If you'll sit down,
I'll bear your logs the while: Pray give me that

* Sea-gulls.

I'll carry it to the pile.
Fer.

No, precious creature:
I had rather crack my sinews, break my back,
Than you should such dishonour undergo,
While I sit lazy by.
Mira.

It would become me
As well as it does you: and I should do it
With much more ease; for my good will is to it,
And yours against.
Pro.

Poor worm! thou art infected;
This visitation shows it.
Mira.

You look wearily:
Fer. No, noble mistress; ?tis fresh morning with

me,
When you are by at night. I do beseech you,
(Chiefly, that I might set it in your prayers,)
What is your name?
Mira.

Miranda:-0

my father,
I have broke your best* to say so!
Fer.

Admir'd Miranda!
Indeed the top of admiration; worth
What's dearest to the world! Full many a lady
I have ey'd with best regard; and many a time
The harmony of their tongues hath into bondage
Brought my too diligent ear; for several virtues
Have I lik d several women; never any
With so full soul, but some defect in her
Did quarrel with the noblest grace she ow'd, t
And put it to the foil: But you, O you,
So perfect and so peerless, are created
Of every creature's best.
Mira.

I do not know
One of my sex; no woman's face remember,
Save, from my glass, mine own; nor have I seen
More that I may call men, than you, good friend,
And my dear father; how features are abroad,
I am skill-less of; but, by my modesty,
(The jewel in my dower,) I would not wish
Any companion in the world but you;
Nor can imagination form a shape,

Besides yourself, to like of: but I prattle
Something too wildly, and my father's precepts
Therein forget.
Fér.

I am, in my condition,
A prince, Miranda; I do think, a king:
(I would, not so!) and would no more endure
This wooden slavery, than I would suffer
The flesh-fly blow my mouth, -Hear my soul

speak;
The
very

instant that I saw you, did
My heart fly to your service; there resides,
To make me slave to it; and, for your sake,
Am I this patient log-man.
Mira.

Do
you

love me?
Fer. O heaven, 0 earth, bear witness to this sound,
And crown what I profess with kind event,
If I speak true; if hollowly, invert
What best is boded me, to mischief! I,
Beyond all limit of what else* i' the world,
Do love, prize, honour you.
Mira.

I am a fool,
To weep at what I am glad of.
Pro.

Fair encounter
Of too most rare affections! Heaven's rain grace
On that which breeds between them!
Fer.

Wherefore weep you?
Mira. At mire unworthiness, that dare not offer
What I desire to give; and much less take,
What I shall die to want: But this is trifling;
And all the more it seeks to hide itself,
The bigger bulk it shows. Hence, bashful cunning,
And prompt me, plain and holy innocence!
I am your wife if you will marry me;
If not, I'll die your maid: to be your fellow
You may deny me: but I'll be your servant,
Whether you will or no.
Fer.

My mistress, dearest,
And I thus humble ever.
Mira.

My husband then?
Fer. Ay, with a heart as willing

As bondage e'er of freedom: here's my

hand. Mira. Ånd mine, with my heart in’t; And now

farewell, Till half an hour hence. Fer.

A thousand! thousand!

A GUILTY CONSCIENCE.
0, it is monstrous! monstrous !
Methought, the billows spoke and told me of it;
The winds did sing it to me; and the thunder,
That deep and dreadful organ-pipe, pronounc'd
The name of Prosper.

ACT IV.
CONTINENCE BEFORE MARRIAGE.
If thou dost break her virgin knot before
All sanctimonious ceremonies may
With full and holy rite be minister’d,
No sweet aspersion* shall the heavens let fall
To make this contract grow; but barren hate,
Sour-ey'd disdain, and discord, shall bestrew
The union of your bed with weeds so loathly
That
you
shall hate it both.

A LOVER'S PROTESTATION.
As I hope
For quiet days, fair issue and long life,
With such love as 'tis now; the murkiest den,
The most opportune place, the strong'st suggestion,
Our worser genius can, shall never melt
Mine honour into lust; to take away

The edge of that day's celebration, * When I shall think, or Phæbus' steeds are founder'd,

Or night kept chain'd below.

PASSION TOO STRONG FOR VOWS.

Look, thou be true; do not give dalliance
Too much the rein; the strongest oaths are straw
To the fire i' the blood: be more abstemious.
Or else, good night, your vow!

VANITY OF HUMAN NATURE.
These our actors,
As I foretold you, were all spirits, and

* Sprinkling.