صور الصفحة
PDF
النشر الإلكتروني

For names; but call forth thund'ring Eschylus,
Euripides, and Sophocles to us,
Pacuvius, Accius, him of Cordova dead,
To live again, to hear thy buskin tread,
And shake a stage or when thy socks were on,
Leave thee alone for the comparison

Of all, that insolent Greece, or haughty Rome
Sent forth, or since did from their ashes come.
Triumph, my Britain, thou hast one to show,
To whom all scenes of Europe homage owe.
He was not of an age, but for all time!
And all the Muses still were in their prime,
When, like Apollo, he came forth to warm
Our ears, or like a Mercury to charm!
Nature herself was proud of his designs,
And joy'd to wear the dressing of his lines!
Which were so richly spun, and woven so fit,
As since, she will vouchsafe no other wit.
The merry Greek, tart Aristophanes,
Neat Terence, witty Plautus, now not please;
But antiquated and deserted lie,
As they were not of Nature's family.
Yet must I not give Nature all: thy art,
My gentle Shakspeare, must enjoy a part.
For though the poet's matter nature be,
His art doth give the fashion. And that he
Who casts to write a living line, must sweat,
(Such as thine are) and strike the second heat
Upon the Muse's anvil; turn the same,
And himself with it, that he thinks to frame;
Or for the laurel, he may gain a scorn,
For a good poet's made, as well as born.

And such wert thou. Look how the father's face
Lives in his issue: even so the race

Of Shakspeare's mind and manners brightly shines
In his well-turned, and true filed lines:

In each of which he seems to shake a lance,
As brandish'd at the eyes of ignorance.
Sweet Swan of Avon! what a sight it were,
To see thee in our water yet appear,

And make those slights upon the banks of Thames,
That so did take Eliza, and our James!
But stay, I see thee in the hemisphere
Advanc'd, and made a constellation there!
Shine forth thou star of poets, and with rage,
Or influence, chide, or cheer the drooping stage,
Which, since thy flight from hence, hath mourn'd
like night,

And despairs day, but for thy volumes' light.

ON

BEN JONSON.

WORTHY MASTER SHAKSPEARE, AND HIS POEMS.

A MIND reflecting ages past, whose clear
And equal surface can make things appear,
Distant a thousand years, and represent
Them in their lively colours, just extent:
To outrun hasty time, retrieve the fates,
Rowl back the heavens, blow ope the iron gates
Of death and Lethe, where confused lie

Great heaps of ruinous mortality:

In that deep dusky dungeon, to discern
A royal ghost from churls; by art to learn
The physiognomy of shades, and give
Them sudden birth, wond'ring how oft they live;
What story coldly tells, what poets feign
At second hand, and picture without brain,
Senseless and soulless shews: To give a stage,-
Ample, and true with life,-voice, action, age,

As Plato's year, and new scene of the world,
Them unto us, or us to them had hurl'd:
To raise our ancient sove eigns from their herse,
Make kings his subjects; by exchanging verse
Enlive their pale trunks, that the present age
Joys in their joy and trembles at their rage:
Yet so to temper passion, that our ears
Take pleasure in their pain, and eyes in tears
Both weep and smile; fearful at plots so sad,
Then laughing at our fear; abus'd, and glad
To be abus'd; affected with that truth
Which we perceive is false, pleas'd in that ruth
At which we start, and, by elaborate play,
Tortur'd and ticki'd; by a crab-like way
Time past made pastime, and in ugly sort
Disgorging up his ravin for our sport :-

While the plebeian imp, from lofty throne,
Creates and rules a world, and works upon
Mankind by secret engines; now to move
A chilling pity, then a rigorous love;
To strike up and stroke down, both joy and ire;
To steer the affections; and by heavenly fire
Mould us anew, stol'n from ourselves :-

This, and much more, which cannot be exprest But by himself, his tongue, and his own breast,Was Shakspeare's freehold; which his cunning brain Improv'd by favour of the nine-fold train ;The buskin'd muse, the comick queen, the grand And louder tone of Clio, nimble hand And nimbler foot of the melodious pair, The silver-voic'd lady, the most fair Calliope, she whose speaking silence daunts, And she whose praise the heavenly body chants.

These jointly woo'd him, envying one another;
Obey'd by all as spouse, but lov'd as brother;-
And wrought a curious robe, of sable grave,
Fresh green, and pleasant yellow, red most brave,
And constant blue, rich purple, guiltless white,
The lowly russet, and the scarlet bright:
Branch'd and embroider'd like the painted spring;
Each leaf match'd with a flower, and each string
Of golden wire, each line of silk: there run
Italian works, whose thread the sisters spun ;
And there did sing, or seem to sing, the choice
Birds of a foreign note and various voice;
Here hangs a mossy rock; there plays a fair
But chiding fountain, purled: not the air,
Nor clouds, nor thunder, but were living drawn⚫
Not out of common tiffany or lawn,
But fine materials, which the Muses know,
And only know the countries where they grow
Now, when they could no longer him enjoy,
In mortal garments pent,-Death may destroy,
They say, his body; but his verse shall live,
And more than nature takes our hands shall give:
In a less volume, but more strongly bound,
Shakspeare shall breathe and speak; with laurel
crown'd,

Which never fades; fed with ambrosian meat;
In a well-lined vesture, rich and neat:-
So with this robe they clothe him, bid him wear it;
For time shall never stain, nor envy tear it.

The friendly admirer of his Endowments,

I. M. S.

These admirable verses were first prefixed to the second folio printed in 1632: they are here placed as a noble tribute from a contemporary to the genius of our immortal Poet. Conjecture has been vainly employed upon the initials I. M. S. affixed. I entirely subscribe to Mr. Boaden's opinion that they are from the pen of George Chapman; the structure of the verse and the phraseology bear marks of his hand, and the vein of poetry such as would do honour to his genius.

S. W. S

THE PREFACE OF THE PLAYERS.

Prefixed to the First Folio Edition published in 1623.

TO THE GREAT VARIETY OF READERS,

FROM the most able, to him that can but spell: there you are number'd. We had rather you were weigh'd. Especially, when the fate of all Bookes depends upon your capacities: and not of your heads alone, but of your purses. Well! it is now publique, and you wil stand for your priviledges wee know: to read, and censure. Do so, but buy it first. That doth best commend a Booke, the Stationer saies. Then, how odde soever your braines be, or your wisedomes, make your licence the same, and spare not. Judge your sixe-pen'orth, your shillings worth, your five shillings worth at a time, or higher, so you rise to the just rates, and welcome. But, whatever you do, Buy. Censure will not drive a Trade, or make the Jacke go. And though you be a Magistrate of wit, and sit on the Stage at Black-Friers, or the Cockpit, to arraigne Playes dailie, know, these Playes have had their triall alreadie, and stood out all Appeales; and do now come forth quitted rather by a Decree of Court, than any purchas'd Letters of commendation.

It had bene a thing, we confesse, worthie to have bene wished, that the Author himselfe had lived to have set forth, and overseen his owne writings; But since it hath bin ordain'd otherwise, and he by death departed from that right, we pray you, doe not envie his Friends, the office of their care and paine, to have collected and publish'd them; and so to have publish'd them, as where (before) you were abus'd with divers stolne, and surreptitious copies, maimed and deformed by the frauds and stealthes of injurious impostors, that expos'd them: even those are now offer'd to your view cur'd, and perfect of their limbes; and all the rest, absolute in their numbers, as he conceived the: Who, as he was a happie imitator of Nature, was a most gentle expresser of it. His mind and hand went together: and what he thought, he uttered with that easinesse, that wee have scarse received from him a blot in his papers. But it is not our province, who only gather his works, and give them you, to praise him. It is yours that reade him. And there we hope, to your divers capacities, you will finde enough, both to draw, and hold you: for his wit can no more lie hid, then it could be lost. Reade him, therefore; and againe, and againe: And if then you doe not like him, surely you are in some manifest danger, not to understand him. And so we leave you to other of his Friends, whom if you need, can bee your guides: if you neede them not, you can leade yourselves, and others. And such readers we wish him.

JOHN HEMINGE,

HENRIE CONdell.

TEMPEST.

PRELIMINARY REMARKS.

"THE Tempest and the Midsummer Night's Dream | complied, and fortunately the ship was driven and

(says Warburton) are the noblest efforts of that sublime and amazing imagination, peculiar to Shakspeare, which soars above the bounds of nature, without forsaking sense, or, more properly, carries nature along with him beyond her established limits."

No one has hitherto discovered the novel on which this play is founded; yet Collins the poet told Thomas Warton that the plot was taken from the romance of Aurelio and Isabella,' which was frequently printed during the sixteenth century, sometimes in three or four languages in the same volume. In the calamitous mental indisposition which visited poor Collins his memory failed him; and he most probably substituted the name of one novel for another; the fable of Aurelio and Isabella has no relation to the Tempest. Mr. Malone thought that no such tale or romance ever existed; yet a friend of the late Mr. James Boswell told him that he had some years ago actually perused an Italian novel which answered Collins' description; but his memory, unfortunately, did not enable him to recover it.

jammed between two rocks, fast lodged and locked for further budging." One hundred and fifty persons got on shore; and by means of their boat and skiff (for this was half a mne from land) they saved such part of their goods and provisions as the water had not spoiled, all the tackling and much of the iron of their ship, which was of great service to them in fitting out another vessel to carry them to Virginia.

"But our delivery," says Jourdan, "was not more strange in falling so opportunely and happily upon the land, as [than] our feeding and provision was, beyond our hopes, and all men's expectations, most admirable; for the Islands of the Bermudas, as every man knoweth that hath heard or read of them, were never inhabited by any Christian or Heathen people, but ever esteemed and reputed a most prodigious and inchanted place, affording nothing but gusts, storms, and foul weather; which made every navigator and mariner to avoid them as Scylla and Charybdis, or as they would shunne the Divell himself; and no man was ever heard to make for this place; but as, against their wils, they have, by storms and dangerounesse of the rocks lying seven finde there the ayre so temperate and the country so aboundantly fruitfull of all fit necessaries for the sustentation and preservation of man's life, that, most in a manner of all our provision of bread, beere, and victuall being quite spoiled in lying long drowned in salt water notwithstanding we were there for the space of nine months, we were not only well refreshed, comforted and with good satiety contented, but out of the aboundance thereof provided us some reasonable quantity and pro portion of provision to carry us for Virginia, and to main tain ourselves and that company we found there :wherefore my opinion sincerely of this island is, that whereas it hath beene, and is still, accounted the most dangerous, unfortunate, and forlorne place of the world, it is in truth the richest, healthfullest, and [most] pleas ing land (the quantity and bignesse thereof considered,) and merely naturall, as ever man set foote upon."

The publication set forth by the Council of Virginia, entitled, "A true Declaration of the Estate of the Colony of Virginia, &c. 1610," relates the same facts and events in better language, and Shakspeare probably derived his first thought of working these adventures up into a dra"These islands of the Bermudas," says this narrative, matic form from an allusion to the drama in this piece. "have ever been accounted as an inchaunted pile of rocks, and a desert inhabitation for divells; but all the divels that haunted the woods were but herds of swine." fairies of the rocks were but flocks of birdes, and all the -What is there in all this Tragicall Comadie that should discourage us?

My friend, Mr. Douce, in his valuable 'Illustrations of Shakspeare,' published in 1807, had suggested that the outline of a considerable part of this play was bor-leagues into the sea, suffered shipwracke. Yet did we rowed from the account of Sir George Somers' voyage and shipwreck on the Bermudas in 1609; and had pointed out some passages which confirmed his suggestion. At the same time it appears that Mr. Malone was engaged in investigating the relations of this voyage: and he subsequently printed the results of his researches in a pamphlet, which he distributed among his friends; wherein he shows, that not only the title but many pas. sages in the play were suggested to Shakspeare by the account of the tremendous Tempest which, in July, 1609, dispersed the fleet carrying supplies from England to the infant colony of Virginia, and wrecked the vessel in which Sir George Some.s and the other principal commanders had sailed, on one of the Bermuda Islands. Sir George Somers, Sir Thomas Gates, and Captain Newport, with nine ships and five hundred people, sailed from England in May, 1609, on board the Sea Venture, which was called the Admiral's Ship; and on the 25th of July she was parted from the rest by a terrible tempest, which lasted forty-eight hours and scattered the whole fleet, wherein some of them lost their masts and others were much distressed. Seven of the vessels, however, reached Virginia; and, after landing about three hundred and fifty persons, again set sail for England. Two of them were wrecked, in their way home, on the point of Ushant; the others returned safely to England, ship after ship, in 1610, bringing the news of the supposed loss of the Admiral's ship and her crew. During a great part of the year 1610 the fate of Somers and Gates was not known in England; but the latter, having been sent home by Lord Delaware, arrived in August or September. The Council of Virginia pub. lished a narrative of the disasters which had befallen the fleet, and of their miraculous escape. Previously however to its appearance, one Jourdan, who probably returned from Virginia in the same ship with Sir Thomas Gates, published a pamphlet entitled "A Discovery of the Bermudas, otherwise called The Isle of Divels; by Sir Thomas Gates, Sir George Somers, and Captain Newport, with divers others :" in which he relates the "They were bound for circumstances of the storm. Virginia, and at that time in 30 N. latitude. The whole crew, amounting to one hundred and fifty persons, weary with pumping, had given all for lost, and began to drink their strong waters, and to take leave of each other, intending to commit themselves to the mercy of the sea. Sir George Somers, who had sat three days and nights on the poop, with no food and little rest, at length descriTragical Tales, translated by Turberville in time of ed land, and encouraged them (many from weariness having fallen asleep) to continue at the pumps. They his troubles, out of sundrie Italians, &c. 8vo 1587.

The covert allusions to several circumstances in the various narrations of this Voyage have been illustrated with great ingenuity by Mr. Malone; and many of them will no doubt have already struck the reader, but we must content ourselves with a reference to his more detailed account.

The plot of this play is very simple, independent of the magic; and Mr. Malone has pointed out two sources from whence he thinks Shakspeare derived suggestions for it. The one is a play by Robert Green, entitled "The Comical History of Alphonsus King of Arragon :" the other is the Sixth Metrical Tale of George Turber. ville, formed on the fourth novel of the fourth day of the Decamerone of Boccaccio, to which he is probably in debted for the hint of the marriage of Claribel. The magic of the piece is unquestionably the creation of the great bard himself, suggested no doubt by the popular

$4

waste.

his eyes.

notions respecting the Bermudas. Mr. Malone confesses | merely the metathesis of Cannibal. Of the Cannibals a long account is given by Eden, ubi supra. that the hints furnished by Green are so slight as not to "The Tempest," says the judicious Schlegel, "has detract from the merit of Shakspeare, and I have therefore not thought it necessary to follow him in his ana-little action and progressive movement; the union of lysis. The late Dr. Vincent, the highly respected Dean Ferdinand and Miranda is fixed at their first meeting, of Westminster, pointed out a passage in Magellan's and Prospero merely throws apparent obstacles in their Voyage to the South Pole, which is to be found in way; the shipwrecked band go leisurely about the "Eden's History of Travaile," printed in 1577, that island; the attempts of Sebastian and Antonio on the may have furnished the first idea of Caliban, and as it life of the King of Naples, and of Caliban and his Is curious in itself, I shall venture to transcribe it. "De- drunken companions against Prospero, are nothing but partyng from hence," says Eden, "they sayled to the a feint, as we foresee that they will be completely frus 49 degre and a halfe under the pole antartike; where trated by the magical skill of the latter; nothing remains being wyntered, they were inforced to remayne there therefore but the punishment of the guilty, by dreadful for the space of two monethes, all which tyme they saw sights which harrow up their consciences, the discovery, no man except that one day by chance they espyed aand final reconciliation. Yet this want is so admirably man of the stature of a gyant, who came to the haven concealed by the most varied display of the fascinations duuncing and singing, and shortly after seemed to of poetry and the exhilaration of mirth; the details of cast dust over his head. The captayne sent one of his the execution are so very attractive that it requires no men to the shore with the shippe boate, who made the small degree of attention to perceive that the denonement lyke signe of peace. The which thyng the giant seeing, is, in some measure, already contained in the exposition. The history of the love of Ferdinand and Miranda, dewas out of feare, and came with the captayne's servant, to his presence, into a little islande. When he sawe the veloped in a few short scenes, is enchantingly beautiful: an affecting union of chivalrous magnanimity on the captayne with certayne of his company about him, he one part, and, on the other, of the virgin openness of a was greatly amazed; and made signes, holding up his hande to heaven, signifying thereby that our men came heart which, brought up far from the world on an uninfrom thence. This giant was so byg that the head of habited island, has never learned to disguise its innocent one of our men of a meane stature came but to his movements. The wisdom of the princely hermit ProsHe was of good corporation and well made in pero has a magical and mysterious air; the impression all partes of his bodie, with a large visage painted with of the black falsehood of the two usurpers is mitigated divers colours, but for the most parte yelow. Uppon his by the honest gossiping of the old and faithful Gonzalo; cheekes were paynted two hartes, and red circles about Trinculo and Stephano, two good-for-nothing drunkThe heare of his head was coloured whyte,ards, find a worthy associate in Caliban; and Ariel and his apparell was the skynne of a beast sowed to hovers sweetly over the whole as the personified genius gether. This beast (as seemed unto us) had a large of the wonderful fable. "Caliban has become a bye-word, as the strange head, and great eares lyke unto a mule, with the body of a cammell and tayle of a horse. The feet of the creation of a poetical imagination. A mixture of the gnome and the savage, half demon, half brute; in his gyant were folded in the sayde skynne, after the manner of shooes. He had in his hande a bygge and shorte behaviour we perceive at once the traces of his native bowe; the sleyng whereof was made of a sinewe of that disposition, and the influence of Prosprero's education. beaste. He had also a bundle of long arrowes made of The latter could only unfold his understanding, without, reedes, feathered after the manner of ours, typte within the slightest degree, taming his rooted malignity: it sharp stones, in the stead of iron heades. The captayne is as if the use of reason and human speech should be caused him to eate and drinke, and gave him many communicated to a stupid ape. Caliban is malicious, thinges, and among other a great looking glasse, in the cowardly, false, and base in his inclinations; and yet he is essentially different from the vulgar knaves of a civi which as soon as he sawe his owne likeness, was sodaynly afrayde, and started backe with suche violence, lized world, as they are occasionally portrayed by that he overthrewe two that stood nearest about him. Shakspeare. He is rude, but not vulgar; he never falls When the captayne had thus gyven him certayne haukes into the prosaical and low familiarity of his drunken asbelles, with also a lookyng glasse, a combe, and a sociates, for he is a poetical being in his way; he always payre of beades of glasse, he sent him to lande with speaks too in verse. He has picked up every thing foure of his owne men well armed. Shortly after, they dissonant and thorny in language, out of which he has sawe another gyant of somewhat greater stature with composed his vocabulary, and of the whole variety of nature, the hateful, repulsive, and pettily deformed have his bowe and arrowes in his hande. As he drew nearer unto our men hee laide his hande on his head, and alone been impressed on his imagination. The magical pointed up towards heaven, and our men did the lyke. world of spirits, which the staff of Prospero has assem The captayne sent his shippe boate to bring him to a little bled on the island, casts merely a faint reflection into Islande, beyng in the haven. This giant was very his mind, as a ray of light which falls into a dark cave, tractable and pleasaunt. He soong and daunsed, and incapable of communicating to it either heat or illumina in his daunsing left the print of his feete on the ground. tion, merely serves to put in motion the poisonous vaAfter other xv. dayes were past, there came foure pours. The whole delineation of this monster is inconother giauntes without any weapons, but had hid their ceivably consistent and profound, and notwithstanding bowes and arrowes in certaine bushes. The captayne its hatefulness, by no means hurtful to our feelings, as retayned two of these, which were youngest and best the honour of human nature is left untouched. made. He tooke them by a deceite, in this manner; that giving them knyves, sheares, looking-glasses, belles, beades of chrystall, and such other trifles, he so fylled their handes, that they could holde no more; then caused two paire of shackels of iron to be putt on their legges, making signes that he would also give them hose chaynes, which they liked very well because they were made of bright and shining metall. And whereas they could not carry them bycause theyr hands were full, the other giants would have carryed them, but the captayne would not suffer them. When they felt the shackels fast about theyr legges, they began to doubt; but the captayne did put them in comfort and bade them stand stille. In fine, when they sawe how they were deceived, they roared lyke bulles, and cryed upon theyr They say that great devill Setebos, to help them. when any of them dye, there appeare x or xi devils leaping and daunsing about the bodie of the dead, and seeme to have theyr bodies paynted with divers colours, and that among other there is one scene bigger than the residue, who maketh great mirth with rejoysing. This great devyll they call Setebos, and call the lesse Chefeule. One of these giantes which they tooke, declared by signes that he had seen devylles with two hornes above theyr heades, with long hare down to theyr feete, and that they caste forth fyre at theyr throates both before and behind. The captayne named these people Patagoni. The moste parte of them weare the skynnes of such beastes whereof I have spoken before. They lyve of raw fleshe, and a certaine sweete roote which they call capar."

Caliban, as was long since observed by Dr. Farmer, is

"In the zephyr-like Ariel the image of air is not to be mistaken, his name even bears an allusion to it; on the other hand, Caliban signifies the heavy element of earth. Yet they are neither of them allegorical personifications, but beings individually determined. In gene. ral we find, in the Midsummer Night's Dream, in the Tempest, in the magical part of Macbeth, and wherever Shakspeare avails himself of the popular belief in the invisible presence of spirits, and the possibility of coming in contact with them, a profound view of the inward life of Nature and her mysterious springs; which, it is true, ought never to be altogether unknown to the genuine poet, as poetry is altogether incompatible with mechanical physics, but which few have possessed in an equal degree with Dante and himself."

It seems probable that this play was written in 1611. at all events between the years 1609 and 1614. It appears from the MSS. of Vertue that the Tempest was acted, by John Heminge and the rest of the King's Company, before Prince Charles, the Lady Elizabeth, and the Prince Palatine Elector, in the beginning of the year 1613

* Schlegel is not quite correct in asserting that Caliban "always speaks in verse." Mr. Steevens, it is true, endeavoured to give a metrical form to some of his speeches, which were evidently intended for prose, and they are therefore in the present edition so printed. Shakspeare, throughout his plays, frequently introduces short prose speeches in the midst of blank verse.

+ Lectures on Dramatic Literature by Aug. Will. Schlegel, translated by John Black, 1815. Vol. ii. p 178.

[blocks in formation]

these roarers for the name of king? To cabin: silence trouble us not.

Gon. Good; yet remember whom thou hast aboard.

pre

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 sent, we will not hand a rope more; use your have authority. If you cannot, give thanks you 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. Gon. 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 hanged, our case is miserable. [Excunt.

[blocks in formation]

Re-enter Boatswain.

Boals. Down with the top-mast; yare; lower, lower; bring her to try with main course. [4 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 hear? Shall we give o'er, and drown? Have you a mind to sink?

Seb. A pox o' your throat! you bawling, blasphemous, uncharitable dog!

Boats. Work you, then.

Ant. Hang, cur, hang! you whoreson, insolent noise-maker, we are less afraid to be drowned than

thou art.

Gon. I'll warrant him from drowning; though the ship were no stronger than a nut-shell, 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! [Exeunt

Boats. What, must our mouths be cold? 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-chapped 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.-
Let's all sink with the king,
Let's take leave of him.

Ant.

Seb.

Erit. Exit.

Gon. Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea for an acre of barren ground; long1o heath,

6 Mr. Steevens says incontinent, but the meaning is evident. In Beaumont and Fletcher's Mad Lover Chilas says to the frightened priestess;

Down, you dog, then;

Be quiet and be staunch too, no inundations.

7 The courses are the main sail and fore sail. To lay a ship a-hold, is to bring her to lie as near the wind as she can, in order to keep clear of the land and get her

out to sea.

8 Merely, absolutely, entirely; Mere, Lat, 9 To englut, to swallow him.

10 Instead of long heath, brown furze, &c. Sir Tho mas Hanmer reads-ling, heath, broom, furze, &c. and I have no doubt rightly.

« السابقةمتابعة »