any existence but in the imagination of the poet, that it had disappeared : "From that daie forth the Isle has beene By wandering sailors never seene: Some say 'tis buryed deepe Beneath the sea, which breakes and rores Nor ere is knowne to sleepe." Mr. Thoms has pointed out some resemblances in the incidents of an early German play, entitled Die Schöne Sidea, and "The Tempest:" his theory is, that a drama upon a similar story was at an early date performed in Germany, and that if it were not taken from Shakespeare's play, it was perhaps derived from the same unknown source. Mr. Thoms is preparing a translation of it for the Shakespeare Society, and we shall then be better able to form an opinion, as to the real or supposed connection between the two. When Coleridge tells us (Lit. Rem. ii. p. 94.) that "The Tempest' is a specimen of the purely romantic Drama," he of course. refers to the nature of the plot and personages: in one sense of the words, it is not a "romantic drama," inasmuch as there are few plays, ancient or modern, in which the unities are more exactly observed: the whole of the events occupy only a few hours. At the same time it is perfectly true, as the same enlightened and fanciful commentator adds, "It is a species of drama, which owes no allegiance to time or space, and in which, therefore, errors of chronology and geography-no mortal sins in any species-are venial faults, and count for nothing: it addresses itself entirely to the imaginative faculty." This opinion was delivered in 1818; and three years earlier Coleridge had spoken of "The Tempest," as certainly one of Shakespeare's latest works, judging from the language only: Schlegel was of the same opinion, without, however, assigning any distinct reason, and instituted a comparison between "The Tempest" and "Midsummer Night's Dream," adding, "The preponderance of thought in 'The Tempest,' exhibited in its profound and original characterisation, strikes us at once; but we must also admire the deep sense of the art (tiefsinnige Kunst) which is apparent in the structure of the whole, in the wise economy of its means, and in the skill with which the scaffolding is raised to sustain the marvellous aerial structure." Ueber Dram. Kunst und Litt. Vol. iii. p. 123. edit. 1817. DRAMATIS PERSONE'. ALONSO, King of Naples. SEBASTIAN, his Brother. PROSPERO, the right Duke of Milan. ANTONIO, his Brother, the usurping Duke of Milan. FERDINAND, Son to the King of Naples. GONZALO, an honest old Counsellor. SCENE, the Sea, with a Ship; afterwards an uninhabited Island. 1 This list of characters in contained in the folio, 1623. THE TEMPEST. ACT I. SCENE I. On a Ship at Sea. A tempestuous noise of Thunder and Lightning. Enter a Ship-master and a Boatswain. Master. Boatswain! Boats. Here, master: what cheer1? Mast. Good. Speak to the mariners yarely, or we run ourselves aground: bestir, bestir. fall to't [Exit. Enter Mariners. Boats. Heigh, my hearts! cheerly, cheerly, my hearts! yare, yare. Take in the top-sail; tend to the master's whistle.-Blow, till thou burst thy wind, if room enough! Enter ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, FERDINAND, GonZALO, and Others. Alon. Good boatswain, have care. Where's the master? Play the men. Boats. I pray now, keep below. 1 What cheer?] So in John Drout's "Pityfull Historie of two loving Italians," 8vo, 1570. 2 "Then mate to mate eache other calde, And sayd, ho mate! what cheere?" fall to 't YARELY.] i. e. readily, nimbly. See also Vol. ii. p. 72; Vol. iii. p. 391; and Vol. viii. pp. 36. 71. Ant. Where is the master, boatswain? Boats. Do you not hear him? You mar our labour. Keep your cabins; you do assist the storm. Gon. Nay, good, be patient. Boats. When the sea is. Hence! What care these roarers for the name of king? To cabin: silence! trouble us not. Gon. Good; yet remember whom thou hast aboard. Boats. None that I more love than myself. You are a counsellor: if you can command these elements to silence, and work the peace of the present, we will not hand a rope more; use your authority: if you cannot, give thanks you have lived so long, and make yourself ready in your cabin for the mischance of the hour, if it so hap.-Cheerly, good hearts!-Out of our way, I say. [Exit. I Gon. I have great comfort from this fellow: methinks, he hath no drowning mark upon him; bis complexion is perfect gallows. Stand fast, 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 hanged, our case is miserable. [Exeunt. Re-enter Boatswain. Boats. Down with the top-mast: yare; lower, lower. Bring her to try with main-course. [A cry within.] A plague upon this howling! they are louder than the weather, or our office. Re-enter SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, and GONZALO. Yet again! what do you here? Shall we give o'er, and drown? Have you a mind to sink? Seb. A pox o' your throat, you bawling, blasphemous, incharitable dog! Boats. Work you, then. Ant. Hang, cur, hang! you whoreson, insolent noisemaker, we are less afraid to be drowned than thou art. Gon. I'll warrant him for drowning; though the ship were no stronger than a nutshell, and as leaky as an unstanched wench. Boats. Lay her a-hold, a-hold! Set her two courses: off to sea again; lay her off. Enter Mariners, wet. Mar. All lost! to prayers, to prayers! all lost! Boats. What! must our mouths be cold? [Exeunt. Gon. The king and prince at prayers! let us assist them, For our case is as theirs. Seb. I am out of patience. Ant. We are merely cheated of our lives by drunkards. This wide-chapp'd rascal,-would, thou might'st lie drowning, The washing of ten tides! Gon. He'll be hanged yet, Though every drop of water swear against it, And gape at wid'st to glut him. [A confused noise within.] Mercy on us! We split, we split !-Farewell, my wife and children!— Farewell, brother!-We split, we split, we split'!— Ant. Let's all sink with the king. Seb. Let's take leave of him. [Exit. [Exit. Gon. Now would I give a thousand 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. 3 MERELY -] i. e. absolutely: a common mode of using the word of old. See also Vol. viii. p. 333. We split, we split !-Farewell my wife and children! Farewell, brother ;-We split, we split, we split !] This conclusion of Gonzalo's speech is verse to the ear, as well as to the eye, in the folio, 1623, but modern editors have converted it into prose, and so have printed it. Johnson supposed it might be part of the "confused noise within." |