Alon. This is as strange a maze as e'er men trod:

And there is in this business more than nature
Was ever conduct of: some oracle
Must rectify our knowledge.

Pro. Sir, my liege,

Do not infest your mind with beating on The strangeness of this business; at pick'd leisure,

Which shall be shortly, single I'll resolve you (Which to you shall seem probable,) of every These happen'd accidents: till when, be cheerful,

And think of each thing well.-Come hither, spirit; [Aside. Set Caliban and his companions free: Untie the spell. [Exit ARIEL.] How fares my gracious Sir?

There are yet missing of your company Some few odd lads, that you remember not. Re-enter ARIEL, driving in CALIBAN, STEPHANO, and TRINCULO, in their stolen apparel. Ste. Every man shift for all the rest, and let no man take care for himself; for all is but fortune-Coragio, bully-monster, Coragio! Trin. If these be true spies which I wear in my head, here's a goodly sight.

Cal. O Setebos, these be brave spirits, inHow fine my master is! I am afraid He will chastise me.

Seb. Ha, ha;

[deed!

What things are these, my lord Antonio!
Will money buy them?

Ant. Very like; one of them

Is a plain fish, and, no doubt, marketable. Pro. Mark but the badges of these men, my lords, [knave, Then say, if they be true:t-This misshapen His mother was a witch; and one so strong That could control the moon, make flows and ebbs,

And deal in her command, without her power: These three have robb'd me; and this demi-devil (For he's a bastard one,) had plotted with them To take my life: two of these fellows you Must know, and own; this thing of darkness I Acknowledge mine.

Cal. I shall be pinch'd to death.

Alon. Is not this Stephano, my drunken butler?

Seb. He is drunk now: Where had he wine? Alon. And Trinculo is reeling ripe: Where

should they

Find this grand liquor that hath gilded them?— How cam'st thou in this pickle?

Trin. I have been in such a pickle, since I saw you last, that, I fear me, will never out of my bones: I shall not fear fly-blowing.

Seb. Why, how now, Stephano?

Ste. O, touch me not; I am not Stephano,

but a cramp.

Pro. You'd be king of the isle, sirrah? Ste. I should have been a sore one then. + Honest.

⚫ Conductor.

on.

Alon. This is as strange a thing as e'er I look'd [Pointing to CALIBAN. Pro. He is as disproportion'd in his manners, As in his shape :-Go, sirrah, to my cell; Take with you your companions; as you look To have my pardon, trim it handsomely.

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?

Pro. Go to; away!

Alon. Hence, and bestow your luggage where you found it..

Seb. Or stole it, rather.

[Exeunt CAL. STE. and TRIN. Pro. Sir, I invite your highness, and your train,

:

[it

To my poor cell where you shall take your rest
For this one night; which (part of it,) I'll waste
With such discourse, as, I not doubt, shall make
Go quick away: the story of my life,
And the particular accidents, gone by,
Since I came to this isle: And in the morn,
I'll bring you to your ship, and so to Naples,
Where I have hope to see the nuptial
Of these our dear-beloved solemniz'd;
And thence retire me to my Milan, where
Every third thought shall be my grave.
Alon. I long

To hear the story of your life, which must
Take the ear strangely.

Pro. I'll deliver all;

And promise you calm seas, auspicious gales, And sail so expeditious, that shall catch Your royal fleet far off.-My Ariel;-chick,That is thy charge; then to the elements Be free, and fare thou well!-[Aside.] Please you, draw near. [Exeunt.

་་་་་

EPILOGUE.

SPOKEN BY PROSPERO.

Now my charms are all o'erthrown, And what strength I have's mine own; Which is most faint: now, 'tis true, I must be here confin'd by you, Or sent to Naples: Let me not, Since I have my dukedom got, And pardon'd the deceiver, dwell In this bare island, by your spell; But release me from my bands, With the help of your good hands.* Gentle breath of yours my sails Must fill, or else my project fails, Which was to please: Now I want Spirits to enforce, art to enchant; And my ending is despair, Unless I be reliev'd by prayer; Which pierces so, that it assaults Mercy itself, and frees all faults. As you from crimes would pardon'd be, Let your indulgence set me free.

* Applause noise was supposed to dissolve a spell.

SCENE I.-An open place in Verona.

Enter VALENTINE and PROTEUS.
Val. Cease to persuade, my loving Proteus;
Home-keeping youth have ever homely wits:
Wer't not, affection chains thy tender days
To the sweet glances of thy honour'd love,
I rather would entreat thy company,
To see the wonders of the world abroad,
Than living dully sluggardiz'd at home,
Wear out thy youth with shapeless idleness.
But, since thou lov'st, love still, and thrive
therein,

Even as I would, when I to love begin.
Pro. Wilt thou be gone? Sweet Valentine,

adieu !

Think on thy Proteus, when thou, haply, seest
Some rare note-worthy object in thy travel:
Wish me partaker in thy happiness,
When thou dost meet good hap; and, in thy
If ever danger do environ thee, [danger,
Commend thy grievance to my holy prayers,
For I will be thy beadsman, Valentine.

Val. And on a love-book pray for my success.
Pro. Upon some book I love, I'll pray for thee.
Val. That's on some shallow story of deep
love,

How young Leander cross'd the Hellespont.
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;
And yet you never swam the Hellespont.
Pro. Over the boots? nay, give me not the
boots.

Val. No, I'll not, for it boots thee not.
Pro. What?

Val. To be

In love, where scorn is bought with groans; coy looks,

A humorous punishment at harvest-home feasts, &c.

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;
However, but a folly bought with wit,
Or else a wit by folly vanquished.

Pro. So, by your circumstance, you call me fool.

Val. So, by your circumstance, I fear, you'll

prove.

Pro. "Tis love you cavil at; I am not Love. 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 Is eaten by the canker ere it blow, [bud Even so by love the young and tender wit Is turn'd to folly; blasting in the bud, Losing his verdure even in the prime, And all the fair effects of future hopes. But wherefore waste I time to counsel thee, That art-a votary to fond desire? Once more atlieu, my father at the road Expects my coming there to see me shipp'd.

Pro. And thither will I bring thee, Valentine. Val. Sweet Proteus; no; now let us take our

leave.

At Milan, let me hear from thee by letters,
Of thy success in love, and what news else
Betideth here in absence of thy friend;
And I likewise will visit thee with mine.

Pro. All happiness bechance to thee in
Milan!

Val. As much to you at home! and so, farewell. [Exit VALENTINE. Pro. He after honour hunts, I after love: He leaves his friends, to dignífy them more; I leave myself, my friends, and all for love.

Pro. It shall go hard, but I'll prove it by another.

Speed. The shepherd seeks the sheep, and not the sheep the shepherd; but I seek my master, and my master seeks not me; therefore, I am no sheep.

Pro. The sheep for fodder follow the shepherd, the shepherd for food follows not the sheep; thou for wages followest thy master, thy master for wages follows not thee: therefore, thou art a sheep.

Speed. Such another proof will make me cry baa.

Pro. But dost thou hear? gav'st thou my letter to Julia?

Speed. Ay, Sir: I, a lost mutton, gave your letter to her, a laced mutton; and she, a laced mutton, gave me, a lost mutton, nothing for my labour.

Pro. Here's too small a pasture for such a store of muttons.

Speed. If the ground be overcharged, you

were best stick her.

Pro. Nay, in that you are astray; 'twere best pound you.

Speed. Nay, Sir, less than a pound shall serve me for carrying your letter.

Pro. You mistake; 1 mean the pound, a pinfold.

Speed. From a pound to a pin? fold it over and over,

'Tis threefold too little for carrying a letter to your lover.

Pro. But what said she? did she nod? [SPEED nods.

Speed. 1.

Pro. Nod, I? why, that's noddy.t Speed. You mistook, Sir; I say, she did nod: and you ask me, if she did nod; and I say, I. Pro. And that set together, is-noddy. Speed. Now you have taken the pains to set it together, take it for your pains.

Pro. No, no, you shall have it for bearing the letter.

Speed. Well, I perceive, I must be fain to bear with you.

Pro. Why, Sir, how do you bear with me? Speed. Marry, Sir, the letter very orderly; † A game at cards.

A term for a courtezan,

having nothing but the word, noddy, for my pains.

Pro. Beshrew* me, but you have a quick wit. Speed. And yet it cannot overtake your slow purse.

Pro. Come, come, open the matter in brief: What said she?

Speed. Open your purse, that the money, and the matter, may be both at once delivered. Pro. Well, Sir, here is for your pains: What said she?

Speed. Truly, Sir, I think you'll hardly win

her.

Pro. Why? Could'st thou perceive so much from her?

Speed. Sir, I could perceive nothing at all from her; no, not so much as a ducat for delivering your letter: And being so hard to me that brought your mind, I fear, she'll prove as hard to you in telling her mind. Give her no token but stones; for she's as hard as steel. Pro. What, said she nothing?

Speed. No, not so much as-take this for thy pains. To testify your bounty, I thank you, you have testern'd me; in requital whereof, henceforth carry your letters yourself: and so, Sir, I'll commend you to my master.

Pro. Go, go, be gone, to save your ship from

wreck;

Which cannot perish, having thee aboard,
Being destined to a drier death on shore :-
I must go send some better messenger;
I fear, my Julia would not deign my lines,
Receiving them from such a worthless post.

SCENE II.-The same.

house.

[Exeunt.

Garden of JULIA'S

Jul. Why, he of all the rest hath never mov'd |

me.

Luc. Yet he of all the rest, I think, best loves

ye.

Jul. His little speaking shows his love but

small.

Luc. Fire, that is closest kept, burns most of all.

Jul. They do not love, that do not show their love.

Luc. O, they love least, that let men know their love.

Jul. I would, I knew his mind.
Luc. Peruse this paper, madam.
Jul. To Julia,-Say, from whom!
Luc. That the contents will show.
Jul. Say, say; who gave it thee?
Luc. Sir Valentine's page; and sent, I think,
from Proteus:

[way, He would have given it you, but I, being in the Did in your name receive it; pardon the fault,

I pray.

Jul. Now, by my modesty, a goodly broker!* Dare you presume to harbour wanton lines? To whisper and conspire against my youth? Now, trust me, 'tis an office of great worth, And you an officer fit for the place. There, take the paper, see it be return'd; Or else return no more into my sight. Luc. To plead for love deserves more fee than hate.

Jul. Will you be gone?

Luc. That you may ruminate.

[Exit.

Jul. And yet, I would I had o'erlook'd the letter.

It were a shame to call her back again,
And pray her to a fault for which I chid her,
What fool is she, that knows I am a maid,
And would not force the letter to my view?
Since maids, in modesty, say No, to that [Ay.
Which they would have the profferer construe,
Fie, fie! how wayward is this foolish love,
That, like a testy babe, will scratch the nurse,
And presently, all humbled, kiss the rod !
How churlishly I chid Lucetta hence,
When willingly I would have had her here!
How angrily I taught my brow to frown,
When inward joy enforc'd my heart to smile!
My penance is, to call Lucetta back,
And ask remission for my folly past:-
What ho! Lucetta!

Jul. Heavy? belike, it hath some burden then.

Luc. Ay; and melodious were it, would you sing it.

Jul. And why not you?

Luc. I cannot reach so high.

Jul. Let's see your song:-How now, min. ion?

Luc. Keep tune there still, so you will sing it out:

And yet, methinks, I do not like this tune.
Jul. You do not?

Luc. No, madam; it is too sharp.
Jul. You, minion, are too saucy.
Luc. Nay, now you are too flat,

And mar the concord with too harsh a descant:"
There wanteth but a meant to fill your song.
Jul. The mean is drown'd with your unruly
base.

Luc. Indeed, I bid the baset for Proteus. Jul. This babble shall not henceforth trouble Here is a coils with protestation !— [me.

[Tears the letter. Go, get you gone; and let the papers lie: You would be fingering them, to anger me. Luc. She makes it strange; but she would be best pleas'd

[Exit.

To be so anger'd with another letter. Jul. Nay, would I were so anger'd with the same!

O hateful hands, to tear such loving words!
Injurious wasps! to feed on such sweet honey,
And kill the bees, that yield it, with your
stings!

I'll kiss each several paper for amends.
And here is writ-kind Julia;-unkind Julia!
As in revenge of thy ingratitude,

I throw thy name against the bruising stones
Trampling contemptuously on thy disdain,
Look, here is writ-love-wounded Proteus :-
Poor wounded name! my bosom, as a bed,
Shall lodge thee, till thy wound be thoroughly
heal'd;

And thus I search it with a sovereign kiss. But twice, or thrice, was Proteus written down?

Be calm, good wind, blow not a word away,
Till I have found each letter in the letter.
Except mine own name; that some whirl-
wind bear

Unto a ragged, fearful, hanging rock,
And throw it thence into the raging sea!
Lo, here in one line is his name twice writ,-
Poor forlorn Proteus, passionate Proteus,
To the sweet Julia;-that I'll tear away;
And yet I will not, sith|| so prettily
Thus will I fold them one upon another;
He couples it to his complaining names:
Now kiss, embrace, contend, do what you will.