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Make not too rafh a tryal of him; for
He's gentle, and not fearful.

Pro. What, I fay,

My foot my tutor? put thy fword up, traitor,
Who mak'st a fhew, but dar'ft not ftrike; thy con-

science

Is fo poffeft with guilt: come from thy ward,
For I can here difarm thee with this stick,
And make thy weapon drop.

Mira. Befeech you, father.

Pro. Hence: hang not on my garment.
Mira. Sir, have pity;

I'll be his furety.

Pro. Silence: one word more

Shall make me chide thee, if not hate thee. What, An advocate for an impoftor? hush!

Thou think'ft, there are no more fuch fhapes as he, Having feen but him and Caliban; foolish wench! To th' moft of men this is a Caliban,

And they to him are angels.

Mira. My affections

Are then moft humble: I have no ambition

To fee a goodlier man.

(her father excepted) but Caliban. She had frequently beheld him under that kind of discipline which her father here threatens to inflict upon her lover.

I'll manacle thy neck and feet together:

Sea-water fhalt thou drink, thy food shall be

The fresh-brook muffles, wither'd roots and husks
Wherein the acorn cradled.

The perverfity of Caliban's nature, and the Cowardliness of it, made punishment neceffary, and eafy to be inflicted: Finding therefore Ferdinand threatened with the like treatment, out of tenderness both to her Father and Lover fhe cries- He's gentle, not like the favage Caliban, and fo deferves not punishment; this fhe gathered from his preceeding converfation with her and not fearful, like that coward, and fo is not to be eafily managed. This fhe collected from his drawing his fword, and itanding on his defence.

Pro.

Pro. Come on, obey;

Thy nerves are in their infancy again,
And have no vigour in them.
Fer. So they are:

3 My fpirits, as in a dream, are all bound up.
My father's lofs, the weakness which I feel,
The wreck of all my friends, and this man's threats,
To whom I am fubdu'd, were but light to me
Might I but through my prifon once a day
Behold this maid: all corners elfe o'th' earth
Let liberty make use of; space enough
Have I, in fuch a prison.

Pro. It works: come on.

Thou haft done well, fine Ariel :) follow me.

Hark, what thou elfe fhalt do me.

Mira. Be of comfort,

My father's of a better nature, Sir,

[To Ariel.

Than he appears by fpeech: this is unwonted,

Which now came from him.

Pro. Thou fhalt be as free

As mountain winds; but then exactly do

All points of my command.

Ari. To th' fyllable.

Pro. Come, follow: fpeak not for him. [Exeunt.

ACT II.

SCENE I.

Another part of the Island.

Enter Alonfo, Sebaftian, Anthonio, Gonzalo,
Adrian, Francifco, and others.

B

ESEECH

GONZAL O.

you, Sir, be merry: you have cause

(So have we all) of joy! for our escape

3 My fpirits, as in a dream, are all bound up.] Alluding to a common sensation in dreams, when we ftruggle, but with a total impuiffance in our endeavours, to run, ftrike, &'c.

Is

Is much beyond our lofs; our stint of woé
Is common; every day, fome failor's wife,
The masters of some merchant, and the merchant,
Have juft our theam of woe: but for the miracle,
(I mean our preservation) few in millions

Can fpeak like us: then wifely, good Sir, weigh
Our forrow with our comfort.

Alon. Pr'ythee, peace. 5

[Seb. He receives comfort like cold porridge. Ant. The 'vifer will not give o'er so.

6

Seb. Look, he's winding up the watch of his wit, by and by it will strike.

Gon. Sir,

Seb. One:

Tell,

Gon. When every grief is entertain'd, that's offer'd; comes to the entertainer

Seb. A dollor.

Gon. Dolour comes to him, indeed; you have spoken truer than you propos'd.

Seb. You have taken it wifelier than I meant you fhould.

Gon. Therefore, my lord,

Ant. Fie, what a fpend-thrift is he of his tongue?
Alon. I pr'ythee, fpare.

Gon. Well, I have done: but yet

Seb. He will be talking.

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4 our HINT of woe] hint of woe, can fignify only prognoftic of woe: which is not the fenfe required. We fhould read STINT, i. e. proportion, allotment.

-to

5 All this that follows after the words Pr'ythee, peace. the words, You cram these words, &c. feems to have been interpolated, (perhaps by the Players) the verfes there beginning again; and all that is between in profe, not only being very impertinent fluff, but most improper and ill-plac'd drollery, in the mouths of unhappy fhipwreckt people. There is more of the fame fort interfperfed in the remaining part of the Scene. Mr. Pope.

6 The VISITOR will not give o'er fo.] This Vifitor is a Comforter or Advifer. We must read then,

'VISER, i. e. the Adviser.

Ant.

Ant. Which of them, he, or Adrian, for a good wager, first begins to crow?

Seb. The old cock.
Ant. The cockrel.

Seb. Done the wager?

Ant. A laughter.

Seb. A match.

Adr. Though this island seem to be defart

Seb. Ha, ha, ha, So, you're paid.

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Adr. Uninhabitable, and almost inacceffible-
Seb. Yet,-

Adr. Yet

Ant. He could not mifs't.

Adr. It must needs be of fubtle, tender, and delicate temperance.

Ant. Temperance was a delicate wench.

Seb. Ay, and a fubtle, as he most learnedly deliver'd.

Adr. The air breathes upon us here most sweetly. Seb. As if it had lungs, and rotten ones.

Ant. Or, as 'twere perfum'd by a fen.

Gon. Here is every thing advantageous to life.
Ant. True, fave means to live.

Seb. Of that there's none or little.

Gon. How lufh and lufty the grafs looks? how

green ?

Ant. The ground indeed is tawny.

Seb. With an eye

of green in't.

Ant. He miffes not much.

Seb. No: he does but mistake the truth totally. Gon. But the rarity of it is, which is indeed almost beyond credit

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Seb. As many voucht rarities are. 7

Gon. That our garments being (as they were) drench'd in the fea, hold notwithstanding their fresh

7 As many voucht rarities are. ] A Satire on the extravagant accounts that Voyagers then told of the new discovered World.

nefs

nefs and gloffes; being rather new dy'd, than ftain'd with falt water.

Ant. If but one of his pockets could speak, would it not fay, he lies?

Seb. Ay, or very falfely pocket up his report.

Gon. Methinks, our garments are now as fresh as when we put them on first in Africk, at the marriage of the King's fair daughter Claribel to the King of Tunis.

Seb. 'Twas a fweet marriage, and we profper well

in our return.

Adr. Tunis was never grac'd before with fuch a paragon to their Queen.

Gon. Not fince widow Dido's time.

Ant. Widow, a pox o' that: how came that widow in widow Dido?

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Seb. What if he had faid, widower Æneas too? Good lord, how you take it!

Adr. Widow Dido, faid you? you make me study of that she was of Carthage, not of Tunis. Gon. This Tunis, Sir, was Carthage.

Adr. Carthage?

Gon. I affure you, Carthage.

Ant. His word is more than the miraculous harp. Seb. He hath rais'd the wall, and houfes too. Ant. What impoffible matter will he make eafy next? Seb. I think, he will carry this island home in his pocket, and give it his fon for an apple.

Ant. And fowing the kernels of it in the fea, bring forth more islands.

Gon. Ay.

Ant. Why, in good time.

Gon. Sir, we were talking, that our garments feem now as fresh, as when we were at Tunis at the marriage of your daughter, who is now Queen.

Ant. And the rareft that e'er came there.
Seb. Bate, I beseech you, widow Dido.

Ant.

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