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Seb. No matter, since

They've left their viands behind; for we have ftomachs. Will't please you taste of what is here?

Alon. Not I.

Gon. Faith, Sir, you need not fear. When we were boys, Who would believe, that there were mountaineers, Dew-lapt like bulls, whose throats had hanging at 'em Wallets of flesh, or that there were such men, Whose heads ftood in their breasts? which now we find, Each putter out on five for one will bring us (22) Good warrant of.

Alon.

(22) Each Putter out of Five for One) By the Variation of a single Letter, I think, I have set the Text right; and will therefore now proceed to explain it. I freely confess, that I once understood this Passage thus; that every five Travellers (or Putters out) did bring authentick Confirmation of these Stories, for one that pretended to dispute the Truth of them: But communicating my Sense of the Place to Two ingenious Friends, I found, I was not at the Bottom of the Meaning. Mr. Warburton observ'd to me, that this was a fine Piece of conceal'd Satire on the Voyagers of that Time, who had just discover'd a new World; and, as was very natural, grew most extravagant in displaying the Wonders of it. That, particularly, by Each Putter out of Five for One, was meant the Adventurers in the Discovery of the West Indies, who had for the Money they advanc'd and contributed, 20 per Cent. - Dr. Thirlby did not a little affift this Explanation by his Concurrence, and by instructing me, that it was usual in those Times for Travellers to put out Money, to receive a greater Sum if they liv'd to return; and, for Proof, he referr'd me to Morison's Itinerary, Part I. p. 198, &c. I cannot return my Friends better Thanks for the Light they have given me upon this Passage, than by subjoining a Teftimony from a contemporary Poet, that will put both their Explanation, and my Correction of the Text, past dispute.

B. Jonson's Every Man out of his Humour, in the Character of Pun. tarvolo.

I do intend, this Year of Jubilee coming on, to travel: And (because I will not altogether go upon Expence,) I am determin'd to put forth fome five thousand pound, to be paid me five for one, upon the Return of my self, my Wife, and my Dog, from the Turk's Court in Conftantinople. If All, or Either of Us miscarry in the Journey, 'tis gone; if We be fuccessful, why, there will be five and twenty thousand Pounds to entertain Time withal.

If this was to be the Return of the Knight's Venture; 'tis obvious, he put out his Money on five for one. Ben. to heighten the Ridicule of these projecting Voyagers, makes Puntarvolo's Wife averse to accompany him; and fo he is forc'd to put out his Venture on the Return of himself, his Dog, and his Cat. - Let me conclude with observing on the different Conduct of the Two Poets. Shakespeare (perhaps, out of a particular Deference for Sir W. Raleigh) only sneers these adventurous Voyagers obliquely,

and,

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Can be at once, shall step by step attend
You and your ways; whose wrath to guard you from,
(Which here in this most defolate Ifle else falls
Upon your heads,) is nothing but heart's forrow,

And a clear life ensuing.

He vanishes in thunder: then, to soft mufick, Enter the Shapes again, and dance with mopps and mowes, and carrying out the table.

Pro. Bravely the figure of this harpy hast thou
Perform'd, my Ariel; a grace it had devouring:
Of my instruction haft thou nothing bated,
In what thou hadst to say: so with good life,
And observation strange, my meaner ministers
Their several kinds have done; my high charms work,
And these, mine enemies, are all knit up
In their diftractions: they are in my power;
And in these fits I leave them, whilst I vifit
Young Ferdinand, (whom they suppose is drown'd,)
And his and my lov'd darling. [Exit Profpero from above.
Gon. I' th' name of fomething holy, Sir, why stand you
In this strange stare?

Alon. O, it is monstrous! monstrous!
Methoughts, 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 Profper: it did base my trespass.
Therefore, my fon i' th' ooze is bedded; and
I'll feek him deeper than e'er plummet founded,

And with him there lye mudded.

Seb. But one fiend at a time,

I'll fight their legions o'er.

Ant. I'll be thy second.

[Exit.

[Exeunt.

Gon. All three of them are desperate; their great

guilt,

Like poison giv'n to work a great time after,
Now 'gins to bite the spirits. I do beseech you,
That are of fuppler joints, follow them fwiftly;
And hinder them from what this ecstafie

May now provoke them too.

Adri. Follow, I pray you.

[Exeunt. ACT

I

ACTIV.

SCENE, Profpero's Cell.

Enter Profpero, Ferdinand, and Miranda.

PROSPERO.

F I have too austerely punish'd you,

Your compensation makes amends; for I
Have giv'n you here a thread of mine own life; (24)

Or that, for which I live; whom once again
I tender to thy hand: all thy vexations
Were but my tryals of thy love, and thou
Hast strangely stood the teft. Here, afore heaven,

I ratify this my rich gift: O Ferdinand,
Do not smile at me, that I boaft her off;

For thou shalt find, the will outstrip all praise,
And make it halt behind her.

Fer. I believe it, Against an oracle. (24)

for I Have giv'n you here a third of my own life,] Thus all the Impressions in general; but why is She only a Third of his own Life? He had no Wife living, nor any other Child, to rob her of a Share in his Affection: So that We may reckon her at least half of himself. Nor could he intend, that he lov'd himself twice as much as he did her; for he immediately fubjoins, that it was She for whom he liv'd. In Othello, when Iago alarms the Senator with the loss of his Daughter, he tells him,

Your Heart is burst, you have lost half your Soul.

And Dimidium anima mea is the current Language on fuch Occafions. There is no Room for doubt, but I have restor'd to the Poet his true Reading; and the Thread of Life is a Phrase most frequent with him. So in K. Henry V.

And let not Bardolfe's vital Thread be cut

With Edge of Penny Cord.

1. Henr. VI.

had not Churchmen pray'd,

His Thread of Life had not so foon decay'd.
2. Henr. VI. Argo, their Thread of Life is spun.
Othello.
I'm glad, thy Father's dead;

Thy Match was mortal to him, and pure Grief
Shore his old Thread in towain.

E3

Pro.

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