Cal. Ay, that I will; and I'll be wise hereafter, And seek for grace. What a thrice-double ass Was I, to take this drunkard for a god, And worship this dull fool! Pros. Go to; away! Alon. Hence, and bestow your luggage where you found it. Seb. Or stole it, rather. [Exeunt Cal., Ste., and Trin. Pros. Sir, I invite your highness and To my poor cell, where you shall take For this one night; which · part of it your train your rest With such discourse as, I not doubt, shall make it Alon. I'll deliver all; Pros. Your royal fleet far off. [Aside to Ari.] My Ariel,- chick,— That is thy charge: then to the elements Please you, draw near. [Exeunt. EPILOGUE. SPOKEN BY PROSPERO. Now my charms are all o'erthrown, SCENE In Verona; in Milan; and in a forest near Milan. ACT I. SCENE I. Verona. An open place in the city. Val. Cease to persuade, my loving Proteus: Pro. Wilt thou be gone? Sweet Valentine, adieu! Think on thy Proteus, when thou haply see'st When thou dost meet good hap; and in thy danger, Commend thy grievance to my holy prayers, Val. And on a love-book pray for my success? Pro. That's a deep story of a deeper love; For he was more than over shoes in love. Val. 'Tis true; for you are over boots in love, Pro. Over the boots! nay, give me not the boots. Pro. What? Val. To be in love, where scorn is bought with groans; Coy looks with heart-sore sighs; one fading moment's mirth With twenty watchful, weary, tedious nights: If haply won, perhaps a hapless gain; If lost, why then a grievous labour won; Pro. So, by your circumstance, you call me fool. Val. Love is your master, for he masters you: And he that is so yoked by a fool, Methinks, should not be chronicled for wise. Pro. Yet writers say, as in the sweetest bud The eating canker dwells, so eating love Inhabits in the finest wits of all. Val. And writers say, as the most forward bud Is eaten by the canker ere it blow, Even so by love the young and tender wit |