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TEMPEST.

ACT I. SCENE I.

A storm with thunder and lightning Enter a Shipmaster and a Boatswain.

On a ship at sea.

BOATSWAIN,

Master.

Boats. Here, master: What cheer?

:

Mast. Good speak to the mariners fall to't yarely, or we run ourselves aground: bestir, bestir.

Enter Mariners.

[Exit.

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.

ter? Play the men.

Boats. I pray now, keep below.

Where's the mas

Ant. Where is the master, boatswain?

Boats. Do you not hear him? You mar our labour ; keep your cabins: you do assist the storm.

Gonz. 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.

:

Gonz. 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 o' 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.

Gonz. 'I have great comfort from this fellow : methinks, he hath no drowning mark upon him; his 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 hang'd, our case is miserable. [Exeunt.

Re-enter Boatswain.

Boats. Down with the top-mast; yare; bring her to try with main course. A plague upon this howling! they are weather, or our office.

lower, lower;

[A cry within.] louder than the

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 drown'd than thou art. Gonz. I'll warrant him from drowning; though the ship were no stronger than a nut-shell, and as leaky as an unstaunch'd 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! [Exe. Boats. What, must our mouths be cold?

Gonz. 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-chapped rascal :-'Would, thou might'st lie drowning,

The washing of ten tides!

Gonz. He'll be hang'd yet;

Though every drop of water swear against it,

And gape at wid'st to glut him.

[1] It may be observed of Gonzalo, that being the only good man that appears with the king, he is the only man that preserves his cheerfulness in the wreck and his hope on the island.-JOHNSON.

[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.

[Exit. Exit.

Seb. Let's take leave of him. Gonz. 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

SCENE II.

The Island: before the Cell of PROSPERO. Enter PROSPERO and MIRANDA.

Mira. If by your art, my dearest father, you have
Put the wild waters in this roar, allay them:

The sky, it seems, would pour down stinking pitch,
But that the sea, mounting to th' welkin's cheek,
Dashes the fire out. O, I have suffer'd
With those that I saw suffer! a brave vessel,
Who had, no doubt, some noble creatures in her,
Dash'd all to pieces. O, the cry did knock
Against my very heart! Poor souls! they perish'd.
Had I been any god of pow'r, I would

Have sunk the sea within the earth, or e'er2
It should the good ship so have swallowed, and
The freighting souls within her.

Pro. Be collected;

No more amazement: tell your piteous heart,
There's no harm done.

Mira. O, woe the day!

Pro. No harm.

I have done nothing but in care of thee,

(Of thee, my dear one! thee, my daughter!) who
Art ignorant of what thou art, nought knowing
Of whence I am; nor that I am more better
Than Prospero, master of a full poor cell,
And thy no greater father.

Mira. More to know

Did never meddle with my thoughts.

Pro. 'Tis time

I should inform thee further. Lend thy hand,

[2] i. e. before. So, in Ecclesiastes, xii. 6: "Or ever the silver cord be loosed, or the golden bowl be broken." STEEVENS.

VOL. I.

F

And pluck my magic garment from me.-So;

[Lays down his mantle.
Lie there, my art.-Wipe thou thine eyes; have comfort.
The direful spectacle of the wreck, which touch'd
The very virtue of compassion in thee,

I have with such provision in mine art
So safely order'd, that there is no soul-
No, not so much perdition as an hair,
Betid to any creature in the vessel

Which thou heard'st cry, which thou saw'st sink. Sit

down;

For thou must now know further.

Mira. You have often

Begun to tell me what I am; but stopp'd
And left me to a bootless inquisition;
Concluding, Stay, not yet.

Pro. The hour's now come;
The very minute bids thee ope thine ear;
Obey, and be attentive. Can'st thou remember
A time before we came unto this cell?

I do not think thou can'st; for then thou wast not
Out three years old.

Mira. Certainly, sir, I can.

Pro. By what? by any other house, or person? Of any thing the image tell me, that

Hath kept with thy remembrance.

Mira. 'Tis far off;

And rather like a dream, than an assurance

That my remembrance warrants: Had I not

Four or five women once, that tended me ?

Pro. Thou had'st, and more, Miranda: But how is it, That this lives in thy mind? What seest thou else

In the dark backward and abysm3 of time?

If thou remember'st aught, ere thou cam'st here,
How thou cam'st here, thou may'st.

Mira But that I do not.

Pro. Twelve years since, Miranda, twelve years since Thy father was the duke of Milan, and

A prince of power.

Mira. Sir, are not you my father?

Pro. Thy mother was a piece of virtue, and She said thou wast my daughter; and thy father

[3] i. e. abyss. This spelling is common to other ancient writers. STE.

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