Puslapio vaizdai
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THE

TEMPEST.

ACTI. SCENE I.

A tempeftuous Noife of Thunder and Lightning beard: Enter a Ship-mafter, and a Boatfwain.

B

MASTER.

Oatswain.

Boats. Here Mafter: What cheer? Maft. Good, fpeak to th' Mariners: Fall too't, yarely, or we run our felves a-ground, beftir, beftir.

Enter Mariners.

Boats. Hey my Hearts, cheerly my Hearts; yare, yare; take in the Top-fail; tend to th' Mafter's Whistle; Blow 'till thou burft thy Wind, if room enough.

Enter Alonfo, Sebaftian, Anthonio, 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 Mafter, Bofon? VOL. I.

B 2

Boat

Boats. Do you not hear him? You mar our Labour; Keep your Cabins; you do affift the Storm.

Gonz. Nay, good be patient.

Boats. When the Sea is; hence.

What care thefe Roarers for the Name of King? To Cabin; filence; trouble us

not.

Gonz. Good, yet remember whom thou haft aboard.

Boats. None that I more love than my felf. You are a Counsellor; if you can command thefe Elements to Silence, and work the Peace of the prefent, we will not hand a Rope more; use your Authority: If you cannot, give thanks you have liv'd fo long, and make your felf ready in your Cabin for the Mifchance of the Hour, if it fo hap. Cheerly good Hearts: Out of our way, I fay.

Exit.

Gonz. I have great Comfort from this Fellow; methinks he hath no drowning Mark upon him; his Complexion is perfe& Gallows. Stand faft, 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 hang'd, our Cafe is miferable. [Exit.

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Enter Boatswain.

Boatf. Down with the Top-Maft: Yare, lower, lower; bring her to try with Main-Course.

A Plague

A cry within. Enter Sebastian, Anthonio and Gonzalo. upon this Howling: They are louder than the Weather, or our Office. Yet again? What do you here? Shall we give o'er and drown? Have you a Mind to fink?

Sebaf. A pox o' your Throat, you bawling, blafphemous, uncharitable Dog.

Boats. Work you then.

Ant. Hang Cur, hang, you Whorefon infolent Noisemaker; we are lefs afraid to be drown'd than thou art.

Gonz. I'll warrant him for drowning, though the Ship were no ftronger than a Nut-fhell, and as leaky as an unftanch'd Wench.

Boatf. Lay her a hold, a hold; fet her two Courses off to Sea again, lay her off.

Enter Mariners wet.

Mar. All loft, to Prayers, to Prayers, all loft.

Boats. What maft our Mouths be cold?

Gon. The King and Prince are at Prayers, let's affift them,

for our Cafe is as theirs.

Sebaf

Sebaf. I'm out of Patience.

Ant. We are meerly cheated of our Lives by Drunkards,

This wide-chopt Rafcal

ing the washing of ten Tides.

-would thou might'ft lye drown

Gonz. He'll be hang'd yet,

Though every Drop of Water fwear against it,

And gape at wid'ft to glut him. [A confufed Noife within,
Mercy on us.

We fplit, we fplit: Farewel my Wife and Children,
Farewel Brother: We fplit, we fplit, we split.

Ant. Let's all fink with the King.

Seb. Let's take leave of him.

[Exit. Gonz. Now would I give a thoufand 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.

Enter Profpero and Miranda.

Mira. If by your Art (my dearest Father) you have
Put the wild Waters in this Roar, allay them:
The Sky it feems would pour down ftinking Pitch,
But that the Sea, mounting to the Welkins Cheek,
Dashes the Fire out. O! I have fuffered
With those that I faw fuffer: A brave Vessel
(Who had, no doubt, fome roble Creature in her)
Dafh'd all to Pieces. Oh! the Cry did knock
Against my very Heart: Poor Souls, they perish'd.
Had I been any God of Power, I would

Have funk the Sea within the Earth, or e'er
It should the good Ship fo have fwallow'd, and
The fraughting Souls within her.

Pro. Be collected;

No more Amazement; tell your piteous Heart,
There's no harm done.

Mira. O wo, the Day.

Pro. No harm.

I have done nothing but in care of thee
(Of thee my dear one, thee my Daughter) who
Art ignorant of what thou art, nought knowing
Of whence I am; nor that I am more better

B 3

Than

Than Profpero, Master of a full poor Cell,
And thy no greater Father.

Mira. More to know

Did never meddle with my Thoughts.
Pro. 'Tis true,

I fhould inform thee farther. Lend thy Hand,
And pluck my magick Garment from me: So!

Lye there my Art. Wipe thou thine Eyes, have Comfort.
The direful Spectacle of the Wrack, which touch'd
The very Virtue of Compaffion in thee,

I have with fuch Compaffion in mine Art
9 So fafely order'd, that there is no Soul loft,
No not fo much Perdition as an Hair
Betide to any Creature in the Veffel

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Which thou heard'ft cry, which thou faw'ft fink:
Sit down, for thou must now know farther.
Mira. You have often

Begun to tell me what I am, but stopt,
And left me to the bootlefs Inquifition;
Concluding, Stay; not yet.

Pro. The Hour's now come,

The very Minute bids thee ope thine Ear,
Obey, and be attentive. Canft thou remember
A time before we came unto this Cell?

I do not think thou canft, for then thou waft not
Out three Years old.

Mira. Certainly, Sir, I can,

Pro. By what? by any other Houfe, or Perfon?
Of any thing the Image, tell me, that

Hath kept with thy Remembrance.

Mira. 'Tis far off;

And rather like a Dream, than an Assurance

That my Remembrance warrants.

Had I not

Four or five Women once that tended me?

Pro. Thou hadft, and more, Miranda: But how is it

That this lives in thy Mind? What feest thou elfe

In the dark backward and Abyfme of Time?

If thou remembreft ought e'er thou cam'ft here.
How thou cam'ft here thou may'ft.

Mira. But that I do not.

Pro. Twelve Year fince, Miranda, twelve Year fince

Thy

Thy Father was the Duke of Millan, and
A Prince of Power.

Mira. Sir, are not you my Father?

Pro. Thy Mother was a piece of Virtue, and
She faid thou waft my Daughter, and thy Father
Was Duke of Millan, and his only Heir,
And Princefs; no worse iffu'd.

Mira. O the Heav'ns,

What foul Play had we that we came from thence?
Or bleffed was't we did?

Pro. Both, both, my Girl:

By foul Play (as thou fayeft) were we heav'd thence,
But blessedly holp hither.

Mira. O my Heart bleeds

To think o'th' teene that I have turn'd you to,
Which is from my Remembrance. Please you, farther.
Pro. My Brother and thy Uncle, call'd Anthonio;
Ip pray
thee mark me, that a Brother fhould
Be fo perfidious! He, whom next thy felf
Of all the World I lov'd, and to him put
The Manage of my State; as at that time
Through all the Signories it was the first,
And Profpero the prime Duke, being fo reputed
In Dignity; and for the Liberal Arts,
Without a Paralell; thofe being all my Study;
The Government I caft upon my Brother,
And to my State grew Stranger, being transported
And rapt in fecret Studies. Thy false Uncle,
(Doft thou attend) ?

Mira. Sir, moft heedfully.

Pro. Being once perfected how to grant Suits,
How to deny them; whom t'advance, and whom
To trash for over-topping; new created

The Creatures that were mine, I fay, or chang'd 'em,
Or elfe new form'd 'em; having both the Key
Of Officer and Office, fet all Hearts o'th' State
To what Tune pleas'd his Ear, that now he was
The Ivy which had hid my princely Trunk,
And fuckt my Verdure out on't: Thou attend'ft not?
Mira. O good Sir, I do.

Pro. I pray thee mark me:

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