Awak'd an evil nature; and my trust, As my truft was; which had, indeed, no limit, To credit his own lie, he did believe With all prerogative. Hence his ambition growing- Mira. Your tale, Sir, would cure deafness. Pro. To have no fcreen between this part he plaid, And him he plaid it for, he needs will be Abfolute Milan. Me, poor man!--my library Was Dukedom large enough; of temporal royalties He thinks me now incapable: confederates (So dry he was for fway) wi' th' King of Naples Who having INTO truth by telling of it, Made fuch a Sinner of his memory, To credit his own lie. ] The corrupted reading of the Second line has rendered this beautiful Similitude quite unintelligible. For what is [having into truth]? or what doth [it] refer to? not to [truth], becaufe if he told truth he could never credit a lie. And yet there is no other correlative to which [it] can belong. Who having, UNTO truth, by telling OFT, To credit his own lie, i. e. by often repeating the fame Story, made his memory fuch a Sinner unto truth as to give credit to his own lie. A miferable delufion to which Story-tellers are frequently fubject. The Oxford Editor having, by this Correction, been let into the Senfe of the Paffage, gives us this Senfe in his own Words, Who loving an untruth, and telling't oft, Το To give him annual tribute, do him homage; The Dukedom, yet unbow'd, (alas, poor Milan!) Mira. O the heav'ns! Pro. Mark his condition, and th' event; then tell me, If this might be a Brother? Mira. I fhould fin, To think but nobly of my grand-mother; 7 Good wombs have bore bad fons. Pro. Now the condition: This King of Naples, being an enemy Mira. Alack, for pity! I, not remembring how I cry'd out then, Will cry it o'er again; it is a hint, That wrings mine eyes to't. Pro. Hear a little further, And then I'll bring thee to the present business, 7 Good wombs have bore bad fons ] Mr. Theobald would give thefe words to Profpero, because Miranda, bred up in the defart Ifland from her infancy, could not be fuppos'd to be furnished with fuch an obfervation from life. An idle reafon. Profpero tells us, he had educated her more carefully than ufual. Would he then fuffer her to be ignorant of the most common cafes in human life? Yet the Oxford Editor follows Mr. Theobald. Mira. Why did they not That hour destroy us? Pro. Well demanded, wench; My tale provokes that queftion. Dear, they durft not Mira. Alack! what trouble Was I then to you? Pro. O! a cherubim Thou waft, that did preferve me: Thou didst fmile, Infused with a fortitude from heav'n, (When I have mock'd the fea with drops full-falt; Under my burthen groan'd;) which rais'd in me An undergoing ftomach, to bear up Against what should enfue. Mira. How came we a-fhore? Pro. By providence divine. Some food we had, and fome fresh water, that A noble Neapolitan, Gonzalo, Out of his charity (being then appointed Rich garments, linnens, stuffs, and neceffaries, 8 When I have DECK'D the fea] i. e. honour'd. But this is a poor thought. The Oxford Editor reads brack'd, which is ftill poorer. I imagine that Shakespear wrote MOCK'D, i. e. lent the Sea this trifling addition of falt-water: For when any thing is given or added, the effect of which is not felt or perceived, it was in the language of that time properly called mocking. Knowing Knowing I lov'd my books, he furnish'd me Mira. Would I might But ever see that man! 9 Pro. Now, I arife: Sit ftill, and hear the last of our fea-forrow. Have I, thy school-mafter, made thee more profit Mira. Heav'ns thank you for't! And now, I pray you, Sir, (For ftill 'tis beating in my mind) your reason For raising this fea-storm? Pro. Know thus far forth, By accident most strange, bountiful fortune [Miranda Лleeps. Come away, fervant, come; I'm ready now : Approach, my Ariel. Come. 9 Pro. Now I arife:- i.e. now I come to the principal part of my Story, for the fake of which I told the foregoing; namely this, that I have now my Enemies in my Power; and if I omit this Opportunity, I fhall never have another to recover my Dukedom. The word is used to usher in a matter of importance. So Richard III. when he comes to the murder of his Nephews, fays to Tirrel, Rife, and lend an ear. SCENE SCENE III. Enter Ariel, Ari. All hail, great mafter! grave Sir, hail! I come To answer thy beft pleasure: Be't to fly; To fwim; to dive into the fire; to ride On the curl'd clouds: to thy ftrong bidding task Pro. Haft thou, Spirit, Perform'd to point the tempeft that I bad thee? I boarded the King's fhip: now on the beak, And fight out-running were not; the fire and cracks Pro. My brave, brave fpirit! Who was fo firm, fo conftant, that this coyl Ari. Not a foul But felt a feaver of the mind, and plaid Some tricks of defperation: all, but mariners, Pro. Why, that's my Spirit! |