Pro. Mark but the badges of thefe men, my lords, Then lay, if they be true: this mif-fhap'd knave, His mother was a witch, and one fo ftrong

That could controul the moon, make flows and ebbs,
And deal in her command without her power.
These three have robb'd me; and this demy-devil
(For he's a bastard one) had plotted with them
To take my life; two of these fellows you
Muft know and own; this thing of darkness I
Acknowledge mine.

Cal. I fhall be pincht to death.

Alon. Is not this Stephano, my drunken butler?
Seb. He's drunk now: where had he wine?
Alon. And Trinculo is reeling ripe; where fhould
they

Find this grand 'lixir, that hath gilded 'em?
How cam'ft thou in this pickle?

4 And Trinculo is reeling ripe; where should they

Find this grand LIQUOR, that hath gilded 'em.] ShakeSpear, to be fure, wrote grand 'LIXIR, alluding to the grand Elixir of the alchymifts, which they pretend would restore youth, and confer immortality. This, as they faid, being a preparation of Gold, they called Aurum potabile; which Shakespear alluded. to in the word gilded; as he does again in Anthony and Cleopatra. How much art thou unlike Mark Anthony ?

Yet coming from him, that great med'cine hath,
With his Tina, gilded thee.

But the joke here is to infinuate that, notwithstanding all the boafts of the Chymifts, Sack was the only rektorer of youth, and beftower of immortality. So Ben Johnson in his Every man out of his humour Canarie the very Elixar and fpirit of wine This feems to have been the Cant name for Sack, of which the English were, at that time, immoderately fond. Randolf in his Jealous Lovers, fpeaking of it, fays, A Pottle of Elixar at the Pegafus bravely caroused. So again in Fletcher's Monfieur Thomas, A& III.

Old reverend Sack, which, for ought that I can read yet, Was that Philofopher's flone the wife King Ptolomeus Did all his wonders by.

The phrafe too of being gilded was a trite one on this occafion. Fletcher in his Chances-Duke. Is she not drunk too? Whore. A little gilded o'er, Sir; Old Sack, Old Sack, Boys!

Trin. I have been in fuch a pickle, fince I faw you laft, that, I fear me, will never out of my bones: I shall not fear fly-blowing.

Seb. Why, how now, Stephano?

[cramp.

Ste. O, touch me not: I am not Stephano, but a
Pro. You'd be King o' th' ifle, Sirrah?
Ste. I fhould have been a fore one then.
Alon. 'Tis a strange thing, as e'er I look'd on.
Pro. He is as difproportion'd in his manners,
As in his fhape: go, Sirrah, to my cell,
Take with you your companions; as you look
To have my pardon, trim it handfomly.

Cal. Ay, that I will; and I'll be wise hereafter,
And feek for grace.
What a thrice-double afs

Was I, to take this drunkard for a God?

And worship this dull fool?

Pro. Go to, away!

Alon. Hence, and beftow your luggage where you found it.

Seb. Or ftole it rather.

50, touch me not: I am not Stephano, but a cramp.] In reading this play, I all along fufpected that Shakespear had taken it from fome Italian writer; the Unities being all fo regularly observed, which no dramatic writers but the Italian observed fo early as our Author's time; and which Shakespear has obferved no where but in this Play. Befides, the Perfons of the Drama are all Italians. I was much confirmed in my Sufpicion when I came to this place. It is plain a joke was intended; but where it lies is hard to fay, I fufpect there was a quibble in the Original that would not bear to be tranflated, which ran thus, I am not Stephano but Staffilato. Staffilato fignifying in Italian, a man well lafhed or flayed, which was the real cafe of thefe varlets.

Tooth'd briars, harp furzes, pricking gofs and thorns Which enter'd their frail Skins.

And the touching a raw part being very painful, he might well cry out Touch me not. &c. In Riccoboni's Catalogue of Italian plays are thefe, Il Negromante di L. Ariofto, profa e verfo, & Il Negromante Palliato di Gio- Angelo Petrucci, profa. But whether the Tempest be borrowed from either of thefe, not having feen them, I cannot fay.

Pro. Sir, I invite your highness, and your train,
To my poor cell; where you shall take your rest
For this one night, which (part of it) I'll wafte
With fuch difcourfe, as, I not doubt, fhall make it
Go quick away; the story of my life,
And the particular accidents gone by,
Since I came to this ifle: and in the morn
I'll bring you to your fhip; and fo to Naples;
Where I have hope to fee the nuptials

Of these our dear beloved folemniz'd;
And thence retire me to my Milan, where
Every third thought fhall be my grave.
Alon. I long

To hear the story of your life, which must
Take the ear strangely.

Pro. I'll deliver all;

And promise you calm feas, aufpicious gales,
And fail fo expeditious, that fhall catch
Your royal fleet far off: My Ariel, chick,
That is thy charge: Then to the elements.
Be free, and fare thou well! Please you, draw near.

[Exeunt omnes.

EPI

EPILOGUE,

Spoken by Profpero.

Now my charms are all o'er-thrown,

And what strength I have's mine own;
Which is most faint: and now, 'tis true,
I must be here confin'd by you,

Or fent to Naples. Let me not,
Since I have my Dukedom got,
And pardon'd the deceiver, dwell
In this bare ifland by your Spell:
But release me from my bands,
With the help of your good bands.
Gentle breath of yours my fails
Muft fill, or else my project fails,
Which was to pleafe. For now I want
Spirits enforce, art to enchant;

And my ending is defpair,

Unless I be reliev'd by prayer ;
Which pierces fo, that it affaults
Mercy itself, and frees all faults.

As you from crimes would pardon'd be,
Let your indulgence fet me free!

6 And my ending is defpair,

Unless I be reliev'd by prayer ;]

This alludes to the old Stories told of the defpair of Necromancers in their last moments; and of the efficacy of the prayers of their friends for them.