« PreviousContinue »
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!
* Make mouths,
t'll bear him no more sticks, but follow thee,
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,
Twill weep for having weăried you: My father
O most dear mistress,
If you'll sit down,
I'll carry it to the pile.
No, precious creature:
It would become me
Poor worm! thou art infected;
You look wearily:
I do not know
* Command. Own'd.
Besides yourself, to like of: but I prattle
I am, in my condition,
instant that I saw you, did
I am a fool,
Wherefore weep you?
My mistress, dearest,
My husband then?
* Whatsoever 7
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.
A LOVER'S PROTESTATION.
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
VANITY OF HUMAN NATURE.