Pros.

Sweet, now, silence!

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 windring brooks,

With your sedged 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 sunburnt sicklemen, of August weary,
Come hither from the furrow and be merry:
Make holiday; your rye-straw hats put on
And these fresh nymphs encounter every one
In country footin.

*Winding or indented channels.

Enter certain REAPERS, properly habited: they join with the NYMPHS in a graceful dance; towards the end whereof PROSPERO starts suddenly, and speaks; after which, to a strange hollow, and confused noise, they heavily vanish.

Pros. (Aside) I had forgot that foul conspiracy Of the beast Caliban and his confederates Against my life: the minute of their plot Is almost come. (To the Spirits.)

avoid;* no more!

*Be gone.

Well done!

Cf. Bacon: "I remember well that when I went to the echo at Pont-Chaventon there was an old Priscian who took it to be the work of spirits, and of good spirits. For (said he) call Satan and the echo will not deliver back the devil's name, but will say, va t'en, which is as much in French as apage or avoid."-Natural History.

Fer. This is strange :* your father's in some passion

That works him strongly.

*"I find that strange."-Promus No. 302.

Prom., Note 303, 1594.

Mir.
Never till this day
Saw I him touch'd with anger so distemper'd.
Pros. You do look, my son, in a moved 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 rackt 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 disturbed with my infirmity:

If you be pleased, retire into my cell

And there repose: a turn or two I'll walk,
To still my beating mind.

*From Lat. inherere, to cling or belong to. iCf. Bacon: "The clouds above which we call the rack."-Natural History.

The word is unfortunately changed to "wreck" in the inscription on Shakspere's monument in Westminster

Abbey, erected in 1740.

Fer. Mir.

We wish you peace. (Exeunt.

Pros. Come with a thought. I thank thee, Ariel:

come.

Enter ARIEL.

Ari. Thy thoughts I cleave to. What's thy pleasure?

Pros.

Spirit,

We must prepare to meet with Caliban.

Ari. Ay, my commander: when I presented Ceres, I thought to have told thee of it, but I fear'd

Lest I might anger thee.

Pros. Say again, where didst thou leave these varlets?

Ari. I told you, sir, they were red-hot with drink

ing;

So full of valour that they smote the air
For breathing in their faces; beat the ground
For kissing of their feet; yet always bending
Towards their project. Then I beat my tabor;
At which, like unback'd colts, they prick'd their ears,
Advanced their eyelids, lifted up their noses
As they smelt music: so I charm'd their ears
That calf-like they my lowing follow'd through
Tooth'd briers, sharp furzes, pricking goss and
thorns,

Which entered their frail shins: at last I left them
I' the filthy-mantled pool beyond your cell,

There dancing up to the chins, that the foul lake O'erstunk their feet.

Pros.

This was well done, my bird.

Thy shape invisible retain thou still:

The trumpery in my house, go bring it hither,
For stale to catch these thieves.

Ari.
I go, I go. (Exit.
Pros. 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,
Even to roaring.

Re-enter ARIEL, loaden with glistering apparel, etc.
Come, hang them on this line.

Enter

PROSPERO and ARIEL remain, invisible. CALIBAN, STEPHANO, and TRINCULO, all

wet.

*Cf. Lucretius:

Also, Bacon: "Old age, if it could be seen, deforms the mind more than the body."-De Augmentis.

Also, ibid: "I remember, when I was a young man at Poictiers in France, that I was very intimate with α young Frenchman of great wit, but somewhat talkative, who afterwards turned out a very eminent man. He used to inveigh against the manners of old men, and say that

if their minds could be seen as well as their bodies, they would appear no less deformed; and further indulging his fancy, he argued that the defects of their minds had some parallel and correspondence with those of the body." -History of Life and Death.

†That is, on this line (or lime) tree.

Cal. 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 played the Jack with us.'

*

*Deceived us.

Cf. "Romeo and Juliet":—

"An 'a speak anything against me, I'll take him down, an 'a were lustier than he is, and twenty such Jacks."4.

II.,

Trin. Monster, I do smell all horse-piss; at which 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 hoodwink the 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.

Cal. Prithee, my king, be quiet. See'st thou here, This is the mouth o' the 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.

Ste. Give me thy hand. I do begin to have bloody thoughts.

Trin. O king Stephano!* O peer! O worthy Stephano! look what a wardrobe here is for thee!

*Cf. "Othello" :—

King Stephano was a worthy peer,
His breeches cost him but a crown;
He held them sixpence all too dear,
With that he calle'd the tailor--lown.
He was a wight of high renown,

And thou art but of low degree;

'Tis pride that pulls the country down,
Then take thine auld cloak about thee."

-II., 3. 88.

This popular ballad was written in ridicule of King Stephano's parsimony.

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.

Cal. The dropsy drown this fool! what do you

mean

To dote thus on such luggage? Let's alone

And do the murder 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.

Trin. Do, do: we steal by line and level, an't like

your grace.

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.

Cal. I will have none on 't: we shall lose out time, And all be turn'd to barnacles,* or to apes

With foreheads villanous low.

*A species of goose, once thought to be developed out of shell fish that bore into ships' bottoms, in salt