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u  i 


III 


^^ 


SHAKESPEARE'S 


COMEDY   Of 


The  Tempest 


EDITED,   \MTH   NOTES 

BY 

WILLIAM   J.    ROLFE,   Litt.D. 

FORMERLY   HEAD  MASTER  OF  THE  HIGH  SCHOOI, 
CAMBRIDGE,  MASS. 


(LLUSTRATEC  J^/o 


NEW  YORK . :  •  CINCINNATI  :  •  CHICAGO 

AMERICAN    BOOK    COMPANY 


CorVRlGHT,    1871    AND    l8g8,   BY 

HARPER   &   BROTHERS. 

CorVKlGHT,    1899   AND   I904,   BY 

WILLIAM   J.   ROLFE. 

TEMPEST. 
W.  P.      X"? 

?BINTED  IN  U.  S.  A 


PREFACE 

My  former  edition  of  The  Tempest  was  first  pub- 
lished in  187 1,  and  was _rei4sed4- with  the  addition  of 
Hne  numbers  and  other  cEianges,  in  1884.  It  is  now 
substantially  remade  on  the  same  general  plan  as  the 
revised  Merchant  of  Venice  and  other  plays  that  have 
preceded  it. 

The  notes  on  textual  variations  have  been  either 
omitted  or  abridged,  as  this  play,  like  most  of  the 
others  read  in  schools  and  colleges,  is  now  among  the 
twelve  plays  that  Dr.  Furness  has  edited.  No  teacher 
can  afford  to  do  without  his  encyclopedic  volumes, 
which  furnish  not  only  a  complete  varionmi  of  the 
textual  readings,  but  a  condensed  library  of  the  Eng- 
lish and  foreign  literature  relating  to  each  play. 

For  most  of  the  "  Critical  Comments  "  in  the  former 
edition  I  have  substituted  matter  of  my  own,  much  of 
which  is  drawn  from  familiar  lectures  prepared  for 
audiences  of  teachers  and  students. 

Minor  changes  have  been  made  throughout  the 
Notes,  and  many  new  ones  have  been  added,  including 
a  considerable  number  in  place  of  those  referring  to 
my  former  editions  of  other  plays.  The  book  is  now 
absolutely  complete  in  itself. 

1  believe  that  teachers  will  prefer  the  new  edition  to 
the  old  one  ;  but  both  can  be  used,  without  serious 
mconvenience,  in  the  same  class  or  club. 


Digitized  by  tine  Internet  Arcliive 

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CONTENTS 

PAGE 

Introduction  to  The  Tempest  ....0.9 
The  History  of  the  Play  .....,,.         9 

The  Sources  of  the  Plot 10 

General  Comments  on  the  Play        .         „         .         .         .11 

The  Tempest 19 

Act  I 21 

Act  II 48 

Act  III 70 

Act  IV .      87 

Act  V,        .........99 

Notes 117 

Appendix 

The  Magic  in  the  Play 197 

Miranda  and  Ferdinand  .......  204 

Ariel  and  Caliban ,         -  208 

The  Minor  Characters 213 

The  Moral  Lessons  of  the  Play 215 

The  Time-Analysis  of  the  Play         .         .         .        .         .221 

List  of  Characters  in  the  Play 221 

Index  of  Words  and  Phrases  Explained       .        .        .    223 

7 


r^ 


Ariel  as  Sea  Nymph 


INTRODUCTION    TO    THE   TEMPEST 


The  History  of  the  Play 


Malone  decided  that  The  Tempest  was  the  last  of 
Shakespeare's  plays,  and  several  of  the  more  recent 
•critics  have  agreed  with  him.  Campbell,  the  poet,  in 
1838,  said  that  the  play  had  "a  sort  of  sacredness  as 
the  last  work  of  the  mighty  workman  "  ;  and  Lowell 
thought  that  in  it  "  the  great  enchanter  "  was  "  bidding 
farewell  to  the  scene  of  his  triumphs."  It  is  probable, 
however,  that  The  Winter's  Tale  followed  rather  than 
preceded  The  Tempest,  though  both  were  quite  certainly 
written  in  ^Gij?  or  early  in  i_6 1 1 ,  and  both  were  first 
printed  in  the  folio  of  1623. 


lO  The  Tempest 

The  Tempest  was  acted  before  King  James  at  White 
hall  on  the  ist  of  November,  1611,  the  forged  record 
in  the  Accounts  of  the  Revels  at  Court  being  founded 
upon  correct  information. 

In  16 10  Silvester  Jourdan  published  a  pamphlet 
entitled  A  Discovery  of  the  Barmudas,  otherwise 
calted  the  lie  of  Dive,  s :  by  Sir  Thomas  Gates,  Sir 
George  Sommers,  and  Captayne  Nenport,  with  divers 
others.  London,  1610.  This  pamphlet  tells  of  the 
tempest  which  scattered  the  fleet  commanded  by 
Somers  and  Gates,  and  the  happy  discovery,  by  some 
of  the  shipwrecked,  of  land  which  proved  to  be  the 
Bermudas.  It  alludes  to  the  "general  belief  that  these 
islands  "  were  never  inhabited  by  any  Christian  or 
heathen  people,"  being  "  reputed  a  most  prodigious 
and  enchanted  place,"  adding  that,  nevertheless,  those 
who  were  cast  away  upon  them,  and  lived  there  nine 
months,  found  the  air  temperate  and  the  country 
"abundantly  fruitful  of  all  fit  necessaries  for  the  sus- 
tentation  and  preservation  of  man's  life."  Prospero's 
command  to  Ariel  to  "  fetch  dew  from  the  still-vexed 
Bermoothes  "  proves  that  his  island  was  not  one  of  the 
Bermudas,  but  the  reference  to  them  appears  to  have 
been  suggested  by  Jourdan's  narrative. 

The  Sources  of  tjie  Plot 

The  plot  of  The  Tempest,  though  it  has  not  been 
traced  to  any  foreign  source,  may  have  been  borrowed 


Introduction  1 1 

from  some  old  Italian  or  Spanish  novel.  Collins  the 
poet  told  Thomas  Vv'arton  that  he  had  seen  such  a 
novel,  with  the  title  of  Aiirdio  and  Isabella,  and  that 
it  was  "  printed  in  Italian,  Spanish,  French,  and  Eng- 
lish, in  1588  ";  and  Bosweli  says  that  a  friend  of  his 
assured  him  that,  some  years  before,  he  had  "  actually 
perused  an  Italian  novel  which  answered  to  Collins's 
description."  But  Collins  was  insane  when  he  made 
the  statement,  and  Boswell's  friend  may  have  been 
mistaken ;  at  any  rate,  the  romance  has  not  yet  been 
found.  There  is  an  early  German  play  (published  in 
1618)  called  Die  Schone  Sidea,  by  Jacob  Ayrer,  a  notary 
of  Nuremberg,  the  plot  of  which  has  been  imagined  by 
several  critics  to  be  like  that  of  The  Tempesf,  and  this 
has  led  them  to  suppose  that  the  two  were  drawn  from 
the  same  source  ;  but  the  resemblance  is  far  too  slight 
to  justify  the  conclusion.  As  Ayrer  died  in  1605  he 
cannot  have  borrowed  from  Shakespeare ;  and  it  is 
highly  improbable  that  Shakespeare  was  acquainted 
with  the  German  play.  For  a  full  discussion  of  the  mat- 
ter, with  a  translation  of  Die  Schone  Sidea,  see  Furness's 
"New  Variorum  "  edition  of  The  Tempest ,  pp.  324-343. 

General  Comments  on  the  Play 

The  Tempest  is  one  of  the  shortest  of  the  plays.  It 
contains  but  2065  lines  ("  Globe'"  reckoning),  a  trifle 
more  than  half  as  many  as  Hamlet,  which  has  3930 
lines.     The  only  late  play  about  as  short   is  Macbeth 


12  The  Tempest 

(2108  lines),  and  the  only  shorter  one  is  the  very  early 
Comedy  of  Errors  (1778  lines).  Some  critics  have 
thought  that  a  part  of  The  Tempest  may  have  been 
lost,  but  its  brevity  appears  to  be  chiefly  due  to  the 
simplicity  of  the  plot.  It  is  difficult  to  see  where 
additional  scenes  or  parts  of  scenes  could  be  appro- 
priately introduced.  Some  scenes,  indeed  (ii.  i,  for 
instance),  seem  to  be  somewhat  "  spun  out,"  so  to 
speak,  that  the  play  may  be  long  enough  for  the 
stage ;  and  the  classical  interlude  may  have  been  in- 
serted for  the  same  reason.  The  closing  scene  does 
not  appear  to  be  hastily  finished,  as  in  some  of  the 
plays,  but  is  worked  out  with  ample  elaboration  for 
theatrical  effect.  The  play  could  hardly  be  lengthened 
unless  by  superfluous  "padding." 

The  Tempest  is  also  remarkable  for  being  constructed 
with  strict  regard  to  the  "  unities  "  of  place  and  time. 
The  scene  is  one  small  island,  and  the  whole  period  of 
the  action  does  not  much  exceed  three  hours,  as  Shake- 
speare has  indicated  by  three  distinct  references  to  the 
time  in  the  last  scene.  The  only  other  play  in  which 
these  unities  are  observed  is  The  Comedy  of  Erro?-s^ 
where  the  scene  is  confined  to  Ephesus,  and  the  time 
is  limited  to  the  forenoon  and  afternoon  of  a  single 
day. 

In  The  Tempest  the  magic  power  of  the  poet  is  strike 
ingly  shown  in  the  variety  of  character  and  incident  pre- 
sented within  these  narrow  limits  of  space  and  time  ;  and 
this,  too.  without  any  violation  of  dramatic  propriety 


Introduction  13 

or  probability  —  indeed,  with  such  extreme  simplicity 
of  plot  that,  when  our  attention  is  called  to  it,  we  are 
surprised  to  see  how  slight  the  story  is,  and  how  clearly 
its  course  is  foreshadowed  almost  from  the  beginning. 

Shakespeare  has  managed  the  supernatural  part  of 
the  play  in  strict  accordance  with  the  theories  of  that 
day  concerning  magic,  while  at  the  same  time  he  has 
avoided  everything  that  was  ridiculous  or  revolting  in 
the  popular  belief.  He  thus  exercises,  as  it  were,  a 
magic  power  over  the  vulgar  magic,  lifting  it  from  prose 
into  poetry ;  and  while  doing  this  he  has  contrived  to 
make  it  so  entirely  consistent  with  what  we  can  imagine 
to  be  possible  to  human  science  and  skill  that  it  seems 
as  real  as  it  is  marvellous.  It  is  at  once  supernatural 
and  natural.  It  is  the  utmost  power  of  the  magic  art,  and! 
yet  it  all  goes  on  with  no  more  jar  to  our  credulity  than ' 
the  ordinary  sequence  of  events  in  our  everyday  life. 

Some  of  the  critics,  particularly  those  who  take  The 
Tempest  to  be  the  last  of  the  plays,  believe  that  Shake- 
speare intended  to  identify  himself  with  Prospero,  and 
in  making  him  abjure  his  "  rough  magic  "  to  indicate 
the  close  of  his  own  career  as  a  dramatist.  But  though 
Prospero  seems  more  like  the  impersonation  of  Shake- 
speare than  any  other  of  his  characters,  I  cannot  believe 
that  he  had  any  thought  of  self-portraiture  in  the  de- 
lineation, or  that  the  princely  magician,  in  breaking 
his  staff  and  drowning  his  book  represents  the  poet 
hinting  at  a  purpose  of  ceasing  to  write.  If  the  play 
was  written  in  161 1,  Shakespeare  was  then  only  forty- 


14  The  Tempest 

seven  years  old.  He  was  in  the  maturity  of  his  powers, 
and  more  favourably  situated  for  exercising  them  in  his 
chosen  lield  of  authorship  than  ever  before.  If  he  had 
not  then  left  London  for  Stratford,  he  was  on  the  point 
of  escaping  from  the  cares  and  distractions  of  his  life 
in  the  metropolis,  and  retiring  with  a  well-earned  com- 
petency to  the  loved  hoaie  of  his  youth.  He  seems  to 
have  been  disposed  to  rest  for  a  time  after  the  labours 
and  anxieties  of  the  preceding  twenty-five  years,  and 
apparently  wrote  no  plays  after  returning  to  Stratford  ; 
but  had  he  not  been  suddenly  cut  off  at  the  very  thresh- 
old of  his  fifty-third  year,  I  believe  we  should  have  found 
that  his  magic  staff  was  not  broken  nor  the  list  of  his 
enchanted  creations  completed. 

It  may  be  added  that,  although  Prospero's  references 
to  giving  up  magic  may  lend  a  certain  support  to  this 
notion    that   he   speaks   for   Shakespeare,  his   closing 
speeches  are  not  in  keeping  with  that  theory. .    If  he  is 
not  older  than  the  poet  was  when  he  wrote  the  play,  his 
experiences  have  been  more  painful  and  more  exhaust- 
ing.    Now  that  the  welfare  of  his  daughter  is  assured 
by  her  prospective  union  with  Ferdinand,  and  the  wrongs 
he  had  suffered  are  all  set  right,  he  feels  that  the  work 
of  his  life  is  accomplished  ;  and  he  says :  — 
"  In  the  morn 
I'll  bring  you  to  your  ship,  an.l  so  to  Naples, 
Where  I  have  hope  to  see  the  nuptial 
Of  these  our  dcar-belov'd  solemnized, 
And  thence  retire  me  to  my  Milan,  where 
Every  third  tlioughl  shall  he  tny  graveP 


introduction  15 

We  cannot  imagine  Shakespeare  saying  this  when  he 
returned  to  Stratford  to  settle  down  at  New  Place. 

"  The  Tempest  is  one  of  those  works  for  which  no 
other  production  of  the  author's  prolific  fancy  could 
have  prepared  his  readers.  It  is  wholly  of  a  different 
cast  of  temper,  and  mood  of  disposition,  from  those  so 
conspicuous  in  his  gayer  comedies  ;  while  even  the  ethi- 
cal dignity  and  poetic  splendour  of  The  Merchant  of 
Venice  could  not  well  lead  the  critic  to  anticipate  the 
solemn  grandeur,  the  unrivalled  harmony  and  grace, 
the  bold  originality,  and  the  grave  beauty  of  The 
Tempest.  ,  .  . 

"  There  are  several  respects  in  which  the  play  thus 
stands  alone  as  distinguishable  in  character  from  any 
other  of  its  author's  varied  creations.  Without  being 
his  work  of  greatest  power,  not  equalling  several  other 
of  the  dramas  in  depth  of  passion  or  in  the  exhibition 
of  the  working  of  the  affections,  surpassed  by  others  in 
brilliancy  of  poetic  fancy  or  exquisite  delicacies  of  ex- 
pression, it  is  nevertheless  among  the  most  perfect  (per- 
haps, in  fact,  the  most  perfect)  of  all,  as  a  work  of  art, 
of  the  most  unbroken  unity  of  effect  and  sustained 
majesty  of  intellect.  It  is,  too,  —  if  we  can  speak  of  de- 
grees of  originality  in  the  productions  of  this  most  cre- 
ative of  all  poets, — the  most  purely  original  of  his 
conceptions,  deriving  nothing  of  any  consequence  from 
any  other  source  for  the  plot,  and  without  any  prototype 
in  literature  of  the  more  important  personages,  or  any 
model  for  the  thoughts  and  language,  beyond  the  mate- 


i6  The  Tempest 

rials  presented  by  actual  and  living  human  nature,  to  be 
raised  and  idealized  into  the  '  wild  and  wondrous  ' 
forms  of  Ariel  and  Caliban,  of  the  majestic  Prospero, 
and,  above  all,  of  his  peerless  daughter.  Miranda  is  a 
character  blending  the  truth  of  nature  with  the  most 
exquisite  refinement  of  poetic  fancy,  unrivalled  even  in 
Shakespeare's  ow.i  long  and  beautiful  series  of  portrait- 
ures of  feminine  excellence,  and  paralleled  only  by  the 
Eve  of  Milton,  who,  I  cannot  but  think,  was  indirectly 
indebted  for  some  of  her  most  fascinating  attributes  to 
the  solitary  daughter  of  Prospero. 

"  Caliban,  a  being  without  example  or  parallel  in 
poetic  invention,  degraded  in  mind,  as  well  as  in  moral 
affections,  below  the  level  of  humanity,  and  yet  essen- 
tially and  purely  poetical  in  all  his  conceptions  and  lan- 
guage, is  a  creation  to  whose  originality  and  poetic  truth 
every  critic,  from  Dryden  downward,  has  paid  homage. 
Nor  is  it  a  less  striking  peculiarity  that  the  only  buffoon 
characters  and  dialogue  in  the  drama  are  those  of  the 
sailors,  who  seem  to  be  introduced  for  the  single  pur- 
pose of  contrasting  the  grossness  and  lowness  of  civil- 
ized vice  with  the  nobler  forms  of  savage  and  untutored 
depravity. 

"It  is  partly  on  account  of  this  perfect  novelty  of 
invention,  and  probably  still  more  from  the  fairy  and 
magical  machinery  of  the  plot,  that  the  later  critics  have 
designated  The  Tempest  as  specially  belonging  to  the 
Romantic  Drama.  Yet  to  me  it  appears,  not  only  hi  its 
structure,  but  in  its  taste  and  feeling,  to  bear  a  more 


introduction  17 

classical  character,  and  to  be  more  assimilated  to  the 
Eigher  Grecian  drama,  in  its  spirit,  than  any  other  of  its 
author's  works,  or  indeed  any  other  poem  of  his  age. 
The  rules  of  the  Greek  stage,  as  to  the  unities  of  time 
and  place,  are  fully  complied  with.  This  cannot  well 
be  the  result  of  accident,  for  in  an  age  of  classical  trans- 
lation, and  learned  (even  pedantic)  imitation,  it  needed 
no  classical  learning  to  make  the  unities  known  to  any 
dramatic  author  ;  and  as  Shakespeare  had,  in  his  other 
plays,  totally  rejected  them,  he  would  seem  here  to  have 
expressly  designed  to  conform  his  plot  to  their  laws. 
But  there  also  appears  to  me  to  be  something  in  the 
poetic  character  and  tone  of  the  drama,  approaching  to 
the  spirit  and  manner  of  the  Greek  dramatic  poetry, 
which  can  certainly  not  be  ascribed  to  intentional  imi- 
tation, any  more  than  to  the  unconscious  resemblance 
often  produced  by  habitual  familiarity  with  favourite 
models.  It  has  nothing  of  the  air  of  learned  and  elabo- 
rate imitation  which,  in  the  works  of  Tasso,  and  Milton, 
and  Gray,  make  the  scholar  everywhere  as  perceptible 
as  the  poet.  But  it  is  the  resemblance  of  solemn 
thought,  of  calm  dignity,  of  moral  wisdom,  of  the  dra- 
matic dialogue  in  its  most  majestic  form,  passing  now 
into  the  lyrical  and  now  into  the  didactic  or  ethical. 
This  resemblance  of  taste  and  feeling  is  rendered  more 
striking  by  a  similar  bold  and  free  invention  and  com- 
bination of  poetic  diction,  making  the  English  language 
as  flexible  as  the  Greek  to  every  shade  of  thought.  In 
all  these  respects,  the  resemblance  to  antiquity  goes  jusf 

THE  TEMPEST —  2 


1 8  The  Tempest 

far  enough  to  .show  that  its  result  is  not  artificial  or  in- 
tentional, but  the  result  of  the  same  mental  causes  oper- 
ating upon  the  author's  poetic  temperament  and  taste  at 
the  time,  which  predominated  in  forming  the  '  lofty 
grave  tragedians  '  of  ancient  Athens."^ 

^  From  the  introduction  to  the  play  in  G.  C.  Verplanck's  edition 
of  Shakespeare  (New  York,  1847);  *^he  first  critical  edition  pub- 
lished in  this  country,  and  still  one  of  the  best,  but  unfortunately 
long  out  of  print,  the  plates  and  stock  on  hand  having  been  de- 
stroyed by  fire  in  1853. 


THE   TEMPEST 


DRAMATIS  rERSONM 


Alonso.  Kin^;  of  Napici. 

Sebastian,  his  brother. 

Prospero,  the  right  Duke  of  Milan. 

Antonio,  his  brother,  the  usurping  Duke  of  Milan. 

Ferdinand,  son  of  the  King  of  Naples. 

GoNZALO,  an  honest  old  Counsellor. 

Adrian,       /  r ,, 

Francisco,  (  ^°''^'- 

Caliban,  a  savage  and  deformed  Slave. 

Trinculo,  a  Jester. 

Stephano,  a  drunken  Butler. 

Master  of  a  Ship,  Boatswain,  Mariners. 

Miranda,  daughter  to  Prospero. 

Ariel,  an  airy  Spirit. 

Iris,         1 

Ceres, 

Tuno,        \  presented  by  Spirits. 

Nymphs,  I 

Reapers,  I 

Other  Spirits  attending  on  Prospero. 
Scene:  A  ship  at  ica:  an  uninhabited  island. 


20 


Prospero  cast  Adrift 


ACT  I 

Scene  I.     On  a  Ship  at  Sea:  a  te?npestuot{s  noise  of 
thunder  and  lightni?ig  heard 

Enter  a  Ship-master  and  a  Boatswain 

Master.    Boatswain  ! 
Boatswain.    Here,  master ;  what  cheer  ? 
Master.    Good,  speak  to  the  mariners :  fall  to  't, 
yarely,  or  we  run  ourselves  aground  ;  bestir,  bestir ! 

\Exit. 


22  The  Tempest  [Act  i 

E)itcr  Mariners 

Boatswain.  Heigh,  my  hearts!  cheerly,  cheerly, 
my  hearts  I  yare,  yare  !  Take  in  the  topsail.  Tend 
to  the  master's  whistle.  —  Blow  till  thou  burst  thy 
wind,  if  room  enough  1 

Enter  Alonso,  Sebastian,  Antonio,  Ferdinand, 
GoNZALO,  a>ui  others 

Alonso.  Good  boatswain,  have  care.  Where's  the 
naster  ?     Play  the  men.  »«^ 

Boatswain.    I  pray  now,  keep  below. 

Antonio.    Where  is  the  master,  boatswain  ? 

Boatswain.  Do  you  not  hear  him  ?  You  mar  our 
labour.    Keep  your  cabins  ;  you  do  assist  the  storm. 

Gonzalo.    Nay,  good,  be  patient. 

Boatswain.  When  the  sea  is.  Hence!  What 
cares  these  roarers  for  the  name  of  king?  To 
cabin  !     Silence  !  trouble  us  not. 

Gonzalo.  Good,  yet  remember  whom  thou  hast 
aboard.  ^"^ 

Boatswain.  None  that  I  love  more  than  myself. 
You  are  a  counsellor;  if  you  can  command  these 
elements  to  silence  and  work  the  peace  of  the  pres- 
ent, we  will  not  hand  a  rope  more.  Use  your  author- 
ity ;  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  1  —  Out  of  our  way,  I  say.  \Exit 


Scene  I]  The  Tempest  23 

Gonzalo.  I  have  great  coinlort  from  this  fellow. 
Methinks  he  hath  no  drowning  mark  upon  him ;  his  30 
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. 

\Exeunt, 

E?iter  Boatswain 

Boatswain.  Down  with  the  topmast !  yare  !  lower, 
lower !  Bring  her  to  try  wi'  the  main-course.  \A 
cry  within.']  A  plague  upon  this  howling!  They 
are  louder  than  the  weather  or  our  office.  — 

Enter  Sebastian,  Antonio,  and  Gonzalo 

Yet  again  1  what  do  you  here  ?  Shall  we  give  o'er 
and  drown  ?     Have  you  a  mind  to  sink  ?  40 

Sebastian.  A  plague  o'  your  throat,  you  bawling, 
blasphemous,  incharitable  dog ! 

Boatswain.    Work  you,  then. 

Antonio.  Hang,  cur  !  hang,  you  whoreson,  "nsolent 
noise-maker  1  We  are  less  afraid  to  be  drowned  than 
thou  art. 

Gonzalo.  I  '11  warrant  him  for  drowning,  though 
the  ship  were  no  stronger  than  a  nutshell. 

Boatswain.  Lay  her  a-hold,  a-hold  !  Set  her  two 
courses.     Off  to  sea  again  ;  lay  her  off.  50 


24  The  Tempest  [Act  i 

Etiter  Mariners  wet 

Mariners.  All  lost!  to  prayers,  to  prayers  1  all 
lost ! 

Boatswain.    What !  must  our  mouths  be  cold  ? 

Gonzalo.    The  king  and  prince  at  prayers !     Let 's 
assist  them, 
For  our  case  is  as  theirs. 

Sebastian.  I'm  out  of  patience. 

Antonio.   We   are    merely  cheated   of   our   lives   by 
drunkards.  — 
This   wide-chapp'd    rascal,  —  would    thou   mightst   lie 

drowning 
The  washing  of  ten  tides  ! 

Gonzalo.  He  '11  be  hang'd  yet, 

Though  every  drop  of  water  swear  against  it 
And  gape  at  wid'st  to  glut  him. 

\A  confused  noise  7vithin.  '  Mercy  on  us  !  '  —  6o 

*  We  split,  we  split!'  —  'Farewell,  my  wife  and  chil- 
dren ! '  — 
'Farewell,     brother  1 ' — 'We     split,    we     split,     we 
split !  ' — ] 

Antonio.    Let 's  all  sink  with  the  king.  \_Exit. 

Sebastian.    Let 's  take  leave  of  him.  \Exit. 

Gonzalo.  Now  would  I  give  a  thousand  furlongs 
of  sea  (or  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  Tempest  25 

Scene  II.     The  Island.     Before  Prosperous  Cell 

Enter  Prospero  arid  Miranda 

Miranda.    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  the  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  creature  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  power,  I  would  10 

Have  sunk  the  sea  within  the  earth  or  ere 
It  should  the  good  ship  so  have  swallow'd  and 
The  fraughting  souls  within  her. 

Prospero.  Be  collected  ; 

No  more  amazement.     Tell  your  piteous  heart 
There  's  no  harm  done. 

Miranda.  O,  woe  the  day  ! 

Prospero.  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  20 

And  thy  no  greater  father. 

Miranda.  More  to  know 

Did  never  meddle  with  my  thoughts- 


26  The  Tempest  [Act  i 

Prospero.  'T  is  time 

I  should  inform  thee  farther.     Lend  thy  hand, 
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  wrack,  which  touch'd 
The  ver>'  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  30 

Betid  to  any  creature  in  the  vessel 
Which  thou  heard'st  cr)-,  which  thou  saw'st  sink.     Sit 

down  ; 
For  thou  must  now  know  farther. 

Miranda.  You    have    often 

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

Prospero.  The  hour's  now  come; 

The  very  minute  bids  thee  ope  thine  ear. 
Obey,  and  be  attentive.     Canst  thou  remember 
.\  time  before  we  came  unto  this  cell  ? 

I  do  not  think  thou  canst,  for  then  thou  wast  not         40 

<  >tit  three  years  old. 

.\firanda.  Certainly,  sir,  I  can. 

Prospero.    By  what  ?  by  any  other  house  or  person  ? 

<  >f  any  thing  the  image  tell  me  that 

I I  ;ilh  kept  with  thy  remembrance. 


Scene  H]  The    1  empest  27 

Miranda.  'T  is  far  oflF, 

And  rather  like  a  dream  than  an  assurance 
That  my  remembrance  warrants.     Had  I  not 
Four  or  five  women  once  that  tended  me  ? 

Prospero.    Thou    hadst,    and    more,    Miranda.      But 
how  is  it 
That  this  Uves  in  thy  mind  ?     What  seest  thou  else 
In  the  dark  backward  and  abysm  of  time  ?  50 

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

Miranda.  But  that  I  do  not. 

Prospero.    Twelve  year  since.  Miranda,  twelve  year 
since, 
Thy  father  was  the  Duke  of  Milan  and 
A  prince  of  power. 

Miranda.  Sir,  are  not  you  my  father  ? 

Prospero.    Thy  mother  was  a  piece  of  \irtue.  and 
She  said  thou  wast  my  daughter  :  and  thy  father 
Was  Duke  of  Milan  ;  and  his  only  heir 
And  princess  no  worse  issued. 

Miranda.  O  the  heavens  ! 

What  foul  play  had  we.  that  we  came  from  thence  ?     60 
Or  blessed  was  "t  we  did  ? 

Prospero.  Both.  both,  my  girl: 

By  foul  play,  as  thou  say'st,  were  we  heav'd  thence, 
But  blessedly  holp  hither. 

Miranda.  O.  my  heart  bleeds 

To  think  o'  thejteen  that  I  have  tum'd  you  to. 
Which  is  from  mv  remembrance  !     Please  }-ou,  farther. 


28  The  Tempest  [Act  I 

Prospcro.    My    brother,    and    thy    uncle,    call'd    An- 
tonio,— 
I  pray  thee,  mark  me,  —  that  a  brother  should 
Be  so  perfidious  !  —  he  whom,  next  thyself, 
Of  all  the  world  I  lov'd  and  to  him  put 
The  manage  of  my  state  ;  as  at  that  time  7° 

Through  all  the  signiories  it  was  the  first, 
And  Prospero  the  prime  duke,  being  so  reputed 
In  dignity,  and,  for  the  liberal  arts, 
Without  a  parallel.     Those  being  all  my  study, 
The  government  I  cast  upon  my  brother 
And  to  my  state  grew  stranger,  being  transported 
And  rapt  in  secret  studies.     Thy  false  uncle  — 
Dost  thou  attend  me  ? 

Miranda.  Sir,  most  heedfully. 

Prospero.    Being  once  perf£Ctad-how  to_grant  suits. 
How  to  deny  them,  who  to  advance  and  who  So 

To  trash  for  overtopping,  new-  created 
The  creatures  that  were  mine,  I  say,  or  chang'd  'em, 
( )r  else  new  form'd  'em  ;  having  both  the  key 
<  )f  officer  and  oftice,  set  all  hearts  i'  the  state 
I'o  what  tune  plcas'd  his  ear,  that  now  he  was 
I'he  ivy  which  had  hid  my  princely  trunk 
And   suck'd    my  verdure  out  on  't.  —  Thou   attend'st 
not. 
Miratiiia.    O,  good  sir,  I  do! 

Prospero.  I  pray  thee,  mark  me. 

I,  thus  neglecting  worldly  ends,  all  dedicated 
To  closeness  and  the  bettering  of  my  mind  90 


Scene  II]  The  Tempest  29 

With  that  which,  but  by  being  so  retir'd, 

O'er-priz'd  all  popular  rate,  in  my  false  brother 

Awak'd  an  evil  nature  ;  and  my  trust, 

Like  a  good  parent,  did  beget  of  him 

A  falsehood,  in  its  contrary  as  great 

As  my  trust  was,  which  had  indeed  no  limit, 

A  confidence  sans  bound.     He  being  thus  lorded, 

Not  only  with  what  my  revenue  yielded 

But  what  my  power  might  else  exact  —  like  one 

Who  having  unto  truth,  by  telling  of  it,  100 

Made  such  a  sinner  of  his  memory 

To  credit  his  own  lie  —  he  did  believe 

He  was  indeed  the  duke,  out  o'  the  substitution 

And  executing  the  outward  face  of  royalty 

With  all  prerogative  ;  hence  his  ambition 

Growing,  —  dost  thou  hear  ? 

Miranda.  Your  tale,  sir,  would  cure  deafness. 

Prospero.    To  have  no  screen  between  this  part  he 
play'd 
And  him  he  play'd  it  for,  he  needs  will  be 
Absolute  Milan.     Me,  poor  man  !  —  my  library 
Was  dukedom  large  enough.     Of  temporal  royalties  no 
He  thinks  me  now  incapable  ;  confederates  — 
So  dry  he  was  for  sway  —  wi'  the  King  of  Naples 
To  give  him  annual  tribute,  do  him  homage. 
Subject  his  coronet  to  his  crown,  and  bend 
The  dukedom  yet  unbow'd  —  alas,  poor  Milan  !  — 
To  most  ignoble  stooping. 

Miranda.  O  the  heavens  1 


30  The  Tempest  [Act  i 

Prosptro.    Mark  his  condition  and  the  event ;    then 
tell  me 
If  this  might  be  a  brother. 

Miranda.  I  should  sin 

To  think  but  nobly  of  my  grandmother ; 
Good  wombs  have  borne  bad  sons. 

Prosperfl.  Now  the  condition. 

This  King  of  Naples,  being  an  enemy  121 

To  me  inveterate,  hearkens  my  brother's  suit, 
Which  was  that  he,  in  lieu  o'  the  premises. 
Of  homage  and  I  know  not  how  much  tribute, 
Should  presently  extirpate  me  and  mine 
Out  of  the  dukedom,  and  confer  fair  Milan, 
With  all  the  honours,  on  my  brother ;  whereon, 
A  treacherous  army  levied,  one  midnight 
Fated  to  the  purpose,  did  Antonio  open 
The  gates  of  Milan,  and,  i'  the  dead  of  darkness,       130 
The  ministers  for  the  purpose  hurried  thence 
Me  and  thy  crying  self. 

Miranda.  Alack,  for  pity  I 

I,  not  remembering  how  I  cried  out  then, 
Will  cr)'  it  o'er  again  ;  it  is  a  hint 
That  wrings  my  eyes  to  't. 

Prospero.  Hear  a  little  further. 

And  then  I  '11  bring  thee  to  the  present  business 
Which  now  's  upon  's ;  without  the  which  this  story 
Were  most  impertinent. 

Miranda.  Wherefore  did  they  not 

That  hour  destroy  us  ? 


Scene  11]  The  Tempest  31 

Prospero.  Well  demanded,  wench  ; 

My  tale   provokes    that   question.      Dear,    they   duisi 
not,  Hc 

So  dear  the  love  my  people  bore  me,  nor  set 
A  mark  so  bloody  on  the  business,  but 
With  colours  fairer  painted  their  foul  ends. 
In  few,  they  hurried  us  aboard  a  bark, 
Bore  us  some  leagues  to  sea,  where  they  prepar'd 
A  rotten  carcass  of  a  boat,  not  rigg'd. 
Nor  tackle,  sail,  nor  mast ;  the  very  rats 
Instinctively  have  quit  it.     There  they  hoist  us, 
To  cry  to  the  sea  that  roar'd  to  us ;  to  sigh 
To  the  winds,  whose  pity,  sighing  back  again,  150 

Did  us  but  loving  wrong. 

Miranda.  Alack,  what  trouble 

Was  I  then  to  you ! 

Prospero.  O,  a  cherubin 

Tliou  wast  that  did  preserve  me  !     Thou  didst  smile, 
Infused  with  a  fortitude  from  heaven, 
When  I  have  deck'd  the  sea  with  drops  full  salt, 
Under  my  burthen  groan 'd  ;  which  rais'd  in  me 
An  undergoing  stomach  to  bear  up 
Against  what  should  ensue. 

Miranda.  How  came  we  ashore  ? 

Prospero.    By  Providence  divine. 
Some  food  we  had  and  some  fresh  water  that  160 

A  noble  Neapolitan,  Gonzalo, 
Out  of  his  charity,  who  being  then  appointed 
Master  of  this  design,  did  give  us,  with 


22  The  Tempest  [Act  i 

Rich  garments,  linens,  stuffs,  and  necessaries, 
Which  since  have  steaded  much.      So,  of  his  gentle- 
ness, 
Knowing  I  lov'd  my  books,  he  furnish'd  me, 
From  mine  own  library,  with  volumes  that 
I  prize  above  my  dukedom. 

Miranda.  Would  I  might 

But  ever  see  that  man  1 

Prospero.  Now  I  arise.  — 

Sit  still  and  hear  the  last  of  our  sea-sorrow.  170 

Here  in  this  island  we  arriv'd ;  and  here 
Have  I,  thy  schoolmaster,  made  thee  more  profit 
Than  other  princess  can  that  have  more  time 
For  vainer  hours  and  tutors  not  so  careful. 

Miranda.    Heavens  thank  you  for  't  I     And  now,  I 
pray  you,  sir. 
For  still  't  is  beating  in  my  mind,  your  reason 
For  raising  this  sea-storm  ? 

Prospero.  Know  thus  far  forth  -■ 

By  accident  most  strange,  bountiful  Fortune, 
Now  my  dear  lady,  hath  mine  enemies 
Brought  to  this  shore ;  and  by  my  prescience  18c 

I  find  my  zenith  doth  depend  upon 
A  most  auspicious  star,  whose  influence 
If  now  I  court  not  but  omit,  my  fortunes 
Will  ever  after  droop.     Here  cease  more  questions. 
Thou  art  inclii.'d  to  sleep ;  't  is  a  good  dulness, 
And  give  it  way.  —  I  know  thou  canst  not  choose.  — 

^Miranda  sleeps. 


Scene  II]  The  Tempest  ^3 

Come  away,  servant,  come  !     I  am  ready  now ; 
Approach,  my  Ariel,  come  I 

Enter  Ariel 

Ariel.    All  hail,  great  master  !  grave  sir,  hail  I    I  come 
To  answer  thy  best  pleasure  ;  be  't  to  fly,  190 

To  swim,  to  dive  into  the  fire,  to  ride 
On  the  curl'd  clouds,  to  thy  strong  bidding  task 
Ariel  and  all  his^guality. 

Frospero.  Hast  thou,  spirit, 

Perform'd  to  point  the  tempest  that  I  bade  thee  ? 

Ariel.    To  every  article. 
I  boarded  the  king's  ship ;  now  on  the  beak. 
Now  in  the  waist,  the  deck,  in  every  cabin, 
I  flam'd  amazement;  sometime  I  'd  divide, 
And  burn  in  many  places  ;  on  the  topmast. 
The  yards,  and  bowsprit,  would  I  flame  distinctly,     200 
Then    meet    and    join.      Jove's    lightnings,    the   pre- 
cursors 
O'  the  dreadful  thunder-claps,  more  momentary 
And  sight-outrunning  were  not ;  the  fire  and  cracks 
Of  sulphurous  roaring  the  most  mighty  Neptune 
Seem  to  besiege  and  make  his  bold  waves  trenble, 
Yea,  his  dread  trident  shake. 

Frospero.  My  brave  spirit  1 

Who  was  so  firm,  so  constant,  that  this  coil 
Would  not  infect  his  reason  ? 

Ariel.  Not  a  soul 

But  felt  a  fever  of  the  mad  and  play'd 

THE    TEMPEST 3 


34  The  Tempest  [Act  i 

Some  tricks  of  desperation.     All  but  mariners  210 

Plung'd  in  the  foaming  brine  and  quit  the  vessel, 
Then  all  afire  with  me :  the  king's  son,  Ferdinand, 
With  hair  up-staring,  —  then  like  reeds,  not  hair, — 
Was  the  lirst  man  that  leap'd  ;  cried,  '  Hell  is  empty, 
And  all  the  devils  are  here.' 

Prospero.  Why,  that  's  my  spirit  1 

But  was  not  this  nigh  shore  ? 

Ariel.  Close  by,  my  master. 

Prospero.    But  are  they,  Ariel,  safe  ? 

Ariel.  Not  a  hair  perish 'd, 

On  their  sustaining  garments  not  a  blemish. 
But  fresher  than  before  ;  and,  as  thou  bad'st  me. 
In  troops  I  have  dispers'd  them  'bout  the  isle.  220 

The  king's  son  have  I  landed  by  himself. 
Whom  I  left  cooling  of  the  air  with  sighs 
In  an  odd  angle  of  the  isle,  and  sitting, 
His  arms  in  this  sad  knot. 

Prospero.  Of  the  king's  ship 

The  mariners,  say  how  thou  hast  dispos'd, 
.•\nd  all  the  rest  o'  the  fleet. 

Ariel.  Safely  in  harbour 

Is  the  king's  ship ;  in  the  deep  nook,  where  once 
Thou  call'dst  me  up  at  midnight  to  fetch  dew 
From  the  still-vex'd  B^rmoothes,  there  she  's  hid ;  ' 
The  mariners  all  under  hatches  stow'd,  230 

Who,  with  a  charm  join'd  to  their  suffer'd  labour, 
I  have  left  asleep ;  and  for  the  rest  o'  the  tieet, 
Which  1  di.-pLis'd,  they  all  have  met  again 


Scene  II]  The  Tempest  j^ 

And  are  upon  the  Mediterranean  flote, 
Bound  sadly  home  for  Naples, 
Supposing  that  they  saw  the  king's  ship  wrack'd 
And  his  great  person  perish. 

Prospero.  Ariel,  thy  charge 

Exactly  is  perform 'd,  but  there  's  more  work. 
What  is  the  time  o'  the  day  ? 

Ariel.  Past  the  mid  season. 

Prospero.    At  least  two  glasses ;   the  time  'twixt  six 
and  now  240 

Must  by  us  both  be  spent  most  preciously. 

Ariel.    Is  there  more  toil  ?     Since  thou  dost  give  me 
pains, 
Let  me  remember  thee  what  thou  hast  promis'd, 
Which  is  not  yet  perform 'd  me. 

Prospero.  How  now  ?  moody  ? 

What  is  't  thou  canst  demand  ? 

Ariel.  My  liberty. 

Prospero,    Before  the  time  be  out  ?  no  more  ! 

Ariel.  I  prithee, 

Remember  I  have  done  thee  worthy  service. 
Told  thee  no  lies,  made  no  mistakings,  serv'd 
Without  or  grudge  or  grumblings.    Thou  did-^t  promise 
To  bate  me  a  full  year. 

Prospero.  Dost  thou  forget  250 

From  what  a  torment  I  did  free  thee  ? 

Ariel.  No. 

Prospero.    Thou  dost ;  and  think'st  it  much  to  tread 
the  ooze 


26  The  Tempest  [Act  i 

Of  the  salt  deep, 

To  run  upon  the  sharp  wind  of  the  north, 
To  do  me  business  in  the  veins  o'  the  earth 
When  it  is  bak'd  with  frost. 

And.  I  do  not,  sir. 

Prospero.    Thou  liest,  malignant  thing!     Hast  thou 
forgot 
The  foul  witch  Sycorax,  who  with  age  and  en\7 
Was  grown  into  a  hoop  ?  hast  thou  forgot  her  ? 
Arid.    No,  sir. 

Prospero.  Thou  hast.     Where  was  she  born  ? 

speak ;  tell  me.  260 

Ariel.    Sir,  in  Argier. 

Prospero.  O,  was  she  so?     I  must 

Once  in  a  month  recount  what  thou  hast  been, 
Which  thou  forget'st.     This  damn'd  witch  Sycorax, 
For  mischiefs  manifold  and  sorceries  terrible 
To  enter  human  hearing,  from  Argier, 
Thou  know'st,  was  banish'd  ;  for  one  thing  she  did 
They  would  not  take  her  life.     Is  not  this  true  ? 
Ariel.    Ay,  sir. 

Prospero.    This   blue-eyed    hag  was   hither   brought 
with  child, 
And  here  was  left  by  the  sailors.     Thou,  my  slave,    270 
As  thou  report'st  thyself,  wast  then  her  servant; 
And,  for  thou  wast  a  spirit  too  delicate 
To  act  her  earthy  and  abhorr'd  commands. 
Refusing  her  grand  bests,  she  did  confine  thee, 
By  help  of  her  more  potent  ministers, 


Scene  II]  The  Tempest  37 

And  in  her  most  immitigable  rage, 

Into  a  cloven  pine,  within  which  rift 

Imprison'd  thou  didst  painfully  remain 

A  dozen  years  ;  within  which  space  she  died  279 

And  left  thee  there,  where  thou  didst  vent  thy  groans 

As  fast  as  mill-wheels  strike.     Then  was  this  island  — 

Save  for  the  son  that  she  did  litter  here, 

A  freckled  whelp,  hag-born  —  not  honour'd  with 

A  human  shape. 

Ariel.  Yes,  Caliban  her  son. 

Prospero.    Dull  thing,  I  say  so ;  he,  that  Caliban 
Whom  now  I  keep  in  service.     Thou  best  know'st 
What  torment  I  did  find  thee  in  ;  thy  groans 
Did  make  wolves  howl,  and  penetrate  the  breasts 
Of  ever-angry  bears.     It  was  a  torment 
To  lay  upon  the  damn'd,  which  Sycorax  290 

Could  not  again  undo ;  it  was  mine  art. 
When  I  arriv'd  and  heard  thee,  that  made  gape 
The  pine  and  let  thee  out. 

Ariel.  I  thank  thee,  master. 

Prospero.    If  thou  more  murmur'st,  I  will   rend  an 
oak 
And  peg  thee  in  his  knotty  entrails  till 
Thou  hast  howl'd  away  twelve  winters. 

Ariel.  Pardon,  master ; 

I  will  be  correspondent  to  command 
And  do  my  spriting  gently. 

Prospero.  Do  so,  and  after  two  days 

i  will  discharge  thee. 


3 8  The  Tempest  [Act  1 

Ariel.  That  's  my  noble  master ! 

What  shall  I  do  ?  say  what ;  what  shall  I  do  ?  30c 

Frospero.    Go  make  thyself  like  a  nymph  o'  the  sea ; 
be  subject 
To  no  sight  but  thine  and  mine,  invisible 
To  every  eyeball  else.     Go,  take  this  shape 
And  hither  come  in  't ;  go,  hence  with  diligence  !  — 

S^Exit  Ariel. 
Awake,  dear  heart,  awake  !  thou  hast  slept  well ; 
Awake ! 

Mirafida.     The  strangeness  of  your  story  put 
Heaviness  in  me. 

Frospero.  Shake  it  off.     Come  on  ; 

We  '11  visit  Caliban  my  slave,  who  never 
Yields  us  kind  answer. 

Miranda.  'T  is  a  villain,  sir, 

I  do  not  love  to  look  on. 

Frospero.  But,  as  't  is,  310 

We  cannot  miss  him  ;  he  does  make  our  fire, 
Fetch  in  our  wood,  and  serves  in  offices 
That  profit  us.  —  What,  ho  I  slave  !  Caliban  ! 
Thou  earth,  thou!  speak. 

Caliban  \^\Vittiin\  There  's  wood  enough  within, 

Frospero.    Come  forth,  I  say  !  there  's  other  business 
for  thee ; 
Come,  thou  tortoise  I  when  ?  — 

Enter  Ariel,  like  a  waier-nyniph 

Fine  apparition  1     My  quaint  Ariel, 
Hark  in  lliinc  ear. 


Scene  iij  The  Tempest  39 

Ariel.  My  lord,  it  shall  be  done.      \Exit. 

Prospero.    Thou  poisonous  slave,  come  forth  1 

Enter  Caliban 

Calibmi.  As  wicked  dew  as  e'er  my  mother  brush 'd 
With  raven's  feather  from  unwholesome  fen  321 

Drop  on  you  both  !  a  south-west  blow  on  ye 
And  blister  you  all  o'er  ! 

Prospcro.    For  this,  be  sure,  to-night  thou  shalt  have 
cramps, 
Side-stitches  that  shall  pen  thy  breath  up ;  urchins 
Shall,  for  that  vast  of  night  that  they  may  work, 
All  exercise  on  thee  ;  thou  shalt  be  pinch'd 
As  thick  as  honeycomb,  each  pinch  more  stinging 
Than  bees  that  made  'em. 

Caliban.  I  must  eat  my  dinner. 

This  island  's  mine,  by  Sycorax  my  mother,  330 

Which  thou  tak'st  from  me.     When  thou  earnest  first 
Thou  strok'dst  me  and  mad'st  much  of  me,  wouldst 

give  me 
Water  with  berries  in  't,  and  teach  me  how 
To  name  the  bigger  light,  and  how  the  less, 
That  burn  by  day  and  night ;  and  then  I  lov'd  thee, 
And  show'd  thee  all  the  qualities  o'  the  isle, 
The  fresh  springs,  brine-pits,  barren  place  and  lertilCc 
Cursed  be  I  that  did  so  !     All  the  charms 
Of  Sycorax,  toads,  beetles,  bats,  light  on  you ! 
For  I  am  all  the  subjects  that  you  have,  340 

Which  fust  was  mine  own  king  •,  and  here  you  sty  me 


4©  The  Tempest  [Act  i 

In  this  hard  rock,  whiles  you  do  keep  from  me 
The  rest  o'  the  island. 

Prospero.  Thou  most  lying  slave, 

Whom  stripes  may  move,  not  kindness !     I  have  us'd 

thee, 
Filth  as  thou  art,  with  human  care,  and  lodg'd  thee 
In  mine  own  cell  till  thoa  didst  seek  to  violate 
The  honour  of  my  child. 

Caliban.  O  ho,  O  ho  !  would  't  had  been  done ! 

Thou  didst  prevent  me ;  I  had  peopled  else 
This  isle  with  Calibans. 

Prospero.  Abhorred  slave, 

Which  any  print  of  goodness  wilt  not  take,  330 

Being  capable  of  all  ill !     I  pitied  thee. 
Took  pains  to  make  thee  speak,  taught  thee  each  hour 
One  thing  or  other ;  when  thou  didst  not,  savage. 
Know  thine  own  meaning,  but  wouldst  gabble  like 
A  thing  most  brutish,  I  endow'd  thy  purposes. 
With  words  that  made  them  known.     But  thy  vile  race, 
Though   thou   didst  learn,  had  that  in  't  which  good 

natures 
Could  not  abide  to  be  with  ;  therefore  wast  thou 
Deservedly  confin'd  into  this  rock, 
VViio  hadst  deserv'd  more  than  a  prison.  360 

Caliban.  You  taught  me  language  ;  and  my  profit  on  't 
Is,  I  know  how  to  curse.     The  red  plague  rid  you 
I'^or  learning  me  your  language  ! 

Prospero.  Hag-seed,  hence  1 

Ketch  us  in  fuel ;  and  be  quick,  thou  'rt  best, 


Scene  II]  The  Tempest  41 

To  answer  other  business.     Shrug'st  thou,  malice  ? 
If  thou  neglect'st,  or  dost  unwiUingly 
What  I  command,  I  '11  rack  thee  with  old  cramps, 
Fill  all  thy  bones  with  aches,  make  thee  roar. 
That  beasts  shall  tremble  at  thy  din. 

Caliban.  No,  pray  thee. 

\Aside\  I  must  obey ;  his  art  is  of  such  power  370 

It  would  control  my  dam's  god,  Setebos, 
And  make  a  vassal  of  him. 

Prospero.  So,  slave  ;  hence  !     \^Exit  Caliban. 

Enter  Ferdinand,  and  Kvaya.  {invisible),  playing  and 
singing 
Ariel's  Song. 
Come  unto  these  yelloiv  sands, 

And  then  take  hands. 
Curtsied  when  you  have,  and  kiss'd 

The  wild  waves  whist. 
Foot  it  featly  here  and  there  ; 
And,  sweet  sprites,  the  burthen  bear. 

Hark,  hark  I 
[Burthen,  dispersedly,  within.     Bow-wow."]      380 

The  watch-dogs  bark. 
[Burthen,  within.     Bow-wow.] 
Hark,  hark  !    I  hear 
The  strain  of  strutting  chanticleer 
Cry,  Cock-a-diddle-dow. 
Ferdinand.   Where  should  this  music  be  ?  i'  the  air  or 
the  earth  ?  — 


42  The  Tempest  [Act  I 

U  sounds  no  more  ;  —  and,  sure,  it  waits  upon 

Some  god  o'  the  island.     Sitting  on  a  bank, 

Weeping  again  the  king  my  father "s  wrack, 

This  music  crept  by  me  upon  the  waters,  390 

Allaying  both  their  fury  and  my  passion 

With  it's  sweet  air ;  thence  I  have  follow'd  it, 

Or  it  hath  drawn  me  rather.     But  't  is  gone.  — 

No,  it  begins  again. 

Ariel's  Song 

Full  fat Jwm  five  thy  fathei-  lies; 

Of  his  bones  are  coral  made; 
Those  are  pearls  that  7vere  his  eyes. 
Nothing  of  hitn  that  doth  fade, 
But  doth  suffer  a  sea-change 
Into  something  rich  and  strange.  400 

Sea-nymphs  hourly  ring  his  knell — 

[Burthen,  within.     Ding-dong^ 
Hark  !  note  I  hear  the?n  —  Ding-dong,  bell. 

Ferdinand.    The   ditty  does    remember   my  drown 'd 
father. 
This  is  no  mortal  business,  nor  no  sound 
That  the  earth  owes.  —  I  hear  it  now  above  me. 

Prospero.    The    fringed    curtains   of    thine   eye    ad- 
vance. 
And  say  what  thou  seest  yond. 

Miranda.  What  is  't  ?   a  spirit? 

Lord,  how  it  looks  about !     lielicvc  me,  sir. 


Scene  II]  The  Tempest  43 

It  carries  a  brave  form.     But  't  is  a  spirit.  410 

Prospero.    No,  wench  ;    it  eats  and  sleeps  and  hath 
such  senses 
As  we  have  —  such.     This  gallant  which  thou  seest 
Was  in  the  wrack;  and,  but  he  's  something  stain'd 
With  grief  that  's  beauty's  canker,  thou  mightst  call  him 
A  goodly  person.     He  hath  lost  his  fellows, 
And  strays  about  to  find  'em. 

Miranda.  Tjrnght  rail  him 

A  thiiT£_diyiii^iJorjiothing_nat.ural 
I  evfT_saw  so  noble. 

Prospero    \Aside\.     It  goes  on,  I  see, 
As  my  soul  prompts  it.  —  Spirit,  fine  spirit  1     I  '11  free 

thee 
Within  two  days  for  this. 

Ferdinand.  Most  sure,  the  goddess     420 

On  whom  these  airs  attend  !  —  Vouchsafe  my  prayer 
May  know  if  you  remain  upon  this  island. 
And  that  you  will  some  good  instruction  give 
How  I  may  bear  me  here  ;  my  prime  request, 
Which  I  do  last  pronounce,  is,  O  you  wonder ! 
If  you  be  maid  or  no  ? 

Mirajida.  No  wonder,  sir, 

But  certainly  a  maid. 

Ferdinand.  My  language  !  heavens  !  — 

I  am  the  best  of  them  that  speak  this  speech, 
Were  I  but  where  't  is  spoken. 

Prospero.  How  !  the  best  ? 

What  wert  thou  if  the  King  of  Naples  heard  thee?     430 


44  The  Tempest  [Act  1 

Ferdinand.    A  single  thing,  as  I  am  now,  that  wonders 
To  hear  thee  speak  of  Naples.     He  does  hear  me, 
And  that  he  does  I  weep  ;  myself  am  Naples, 
Who  with  mine  eyes,  never  since  at  ebb,  beheld 
The  king  my  father  wrack'd. 

Miranda.  Alack,  for  mercy  ! 

Ferdinand.    Yes,  faith,  and  all  his  lords  ;  the  Duke  o* 
Milan 
And  his  brave  son  being  twain. 

Prospero  \^Aside\  The  Duke  of  Milan 

And  his  more  braver  daughter  could  control  thee, 
If  now  *t  were  fit  to  do  't.  —  At  the  first  sight 
They  have  chang'd  eyes.  —  Delicate  Ariel,  440 

I  '11  set  thee  free  for  this.  —  \To  hitnl  A  word,  good  sir  ; 
I  fear  you  have  done  yourself  some  wrong ;  a  word. 

Miranda.    Why  speaks  my  father  so  ungently  ?     This 
Is  the  third  man  that  e'er  I  saw,  the  first 
That  e'er  I  sighed  for ;  pity  move  my  father 
To  be  inclin'd  my  way  ! 

Ferdinand.  O,  if  a  virgin. 

And  your  affection  not  gone  forth,  I  '11  make  you 
The  Queen  of  Naples. 

Prospero.  Soft,  sir  !  one  word  more.  — 

\Aside'\  They  are  both  in  either's  powers  ;  but  this  swift 

business 
I  must  uneasy  make,  lest  too  light  winning  450 

Make  the  prize  light.  —  \To  /lifn]  One  word  more;  I 

cliarge  thee 
That  thou  attend  iin-.     'I'hoii  dost  here  usurp 


Scene  II]  The  Tempest  45 

The  name  thou  owest  not,  and  hast  put  thyself 
Upon  this  island  as  a  spy,  to  win  it 
From  me,  the  lord  on  't. 

Ferdinand.  No,  as  I  am  a  man. 

Miranda.    There  's  nothing  ill  can  dwell  in  such  a 
temple  ; 
If  the  ill  spirit  have  so  fair  a  house, 
Good  things  will  strive  to  dwell  with  't. 

Prospero.    \To  Ferdinand']  Follow  me. — 

Speak  not  you  for  him  ;  he  's  a  traitor.  —  Come  ; 
I  '11  manacle  thy  neck  and  feet  together ;  460 

Sea-water  shalt  thou  drink ;  thy  food  shall  be 
The  fresh-brook  muscles,  wither'd  roots,  and  husks 
Wherein  the  acorn  cradled.     Follow. 

Ferdinand.  No ; 

I  will  resist  such  entertainment  till 
Mine  enemy  has  more  power. 

\He  draws.,  and  is  charmed  from  moving. 

Miranda.  O  dear  father  1 

Make  not  too  rash  a  trial  of  him,  for 
He  's  gentle  and  not  fearful. 

Prospero.  What !   I  say, 

My  foot  my  tutor  ?  —  Put  thy  sword  up,  traitor, 
Who  mak'st  a  show,   but  dar'st  not  strike,   thy  con- 
science 
Is  so  possess'd  with  guilt;  come  from  thy  ward,         ^;o 
For  I  can  here  disarm  thee  with  this  stick 
And  make  thy  weapon  drop. 

Miranda.  Beseech  you,  father  ! 


4.6  The  Tempest  [Act  i 

Prospcro.    Hence  !  hang  not  on  my  garments. 

Miranda.  Sir,  have  pity  ; 

I  '11  be  his  surety. 

Prospcro.  Silence  !  one  word  more 

Shall  make  me  chide  thee,  if  not  hate  thee  !     What ! 
An  advocate  for  an  impostor !  hush  ! 
Thou  think'st  there  is  no  more  such  shapes  as  he, 
Having  seen  but  him  and  Caliban  ;  foolish  wench  1 
To  the  most  of  men  this  is  a  Caliban, 
And  they  to  him  are  angels. 

Miranda.  My  affections  48c 

Are,  then,  most  humble ;  I  have  no  ambition 
To  see  a  goodlier  man. 

Prospcro,    [To  Ferdinand^  Come  on  ;  obey. 
Thy  nerves  are  in  their  infancy  again 
And  have  no  vigour  in  them. 

Ferdinand.  So  they  are  ; 

My  spirits,  as  in  a  dream,  are  all  bound  up. 
My  father's  loss,  the  weakness  which  I  feel. 
The  wrack  of  all  my  friends,  nor  this  man's  threats 
To  whom  I  am  subdued,  are  but  light  to  me. 
Might  I  but  through  my  prison  once  a  day 
Behold  this  maid.     All  corners  else  o'  the  earth         490 
Let  liberty  make  use  of;  space  enough 
Have  I  in  such  a  prison. 

Prospero    [Aside].  It  works. — [To  Ferdinand] 

Come  on.  — 
Thou  hast  done  well,  fine  Ariel  I  —  Follow  me. — 
f  /(';  Arid]  Hark  what  thou  else  shalt  do  me. 


Scene  II]  The  Tempest  47 

Miranda.  Be  of  comfort. 

My  father  's  of  a  better  nature,  sir, 
Than  he  appears  by  speech  ;  this  is  unwonted 
Which  now  came  from  him. 

Prospero.  Thou  shalt  be  as  free 

As  mountain  winds  ;  but  then  exactly  do 
All  points  of  my  command. 

Ariel.  To  the  syllable, 

Prospero.    Come,  follow.  —  Speak  not  for  him,        500 

\Exeunt. 


^^j^^^.|\lV,^ 


CALlbAN   AND  TRINCULO 


ACT    II 

Scene  I.     Another  Part  of  the  Island 

Enter  Alonso,    Sebastian,  Antonio,   Gonzalo. 
Adrian,  Francisco,  and  others 

Gonzalo.    Beseech  you,  sir,  be  merry;   you  have 
cause  — 
So  have  we  all  —  of  joy,  for  our  escape 
Is  much  beyond  our  loss.     Our  hint  of  woe 
Is  common  :  every  day,  some  sailoiVwHej.. 
The    maslt-rs   ol    scime    merchant,   and    the   merchant. 

t>^ — 


Scene  I]  The  Tempest  49 

Have  just  our  theme  of  woe  ;  but  for  the  miracle  — 
I  mean  our  preservation  — few  in  milHons 
Can  speak  like  us.     Then  wisely,  good  sir,  weigh 
Our  sorrow  with  our  comfort. 

Alonso.  Prithee,  peace. 

Sebastian.    He  receives  comfort  like  cold  porridge.  10 

Antofiio.    The  visitor  will  not  give  him  o'er  so. 

Sebastian.    Look,  he  's  winding  up  the  watch  of  his 
wit ;  by  and  by  it  will  strike. 

Gonzalo.    Sir,  — 

Sebastian.    One  ;  tell. 

Gonzalo.     When   every   grief   is    entertain'd    that   's 
offer'd, 
Comes  to  the  entertainer  — 

Sebastian.    A  dollar.         yt^-^^  '^^  c<^t>-^^^ 

Gonzalo.    Dolour  comes  to  him,  indeed ;  you  have 
spoken  truer  than  you  purpos'd.  20 

Sebastian.   You  have  taken  it  wiselier  than  I  meant 
you  should. 

Gonzalo.    Therefore,  my  lord,  — 

Antonio.    Fie,    what   a   spendthrift   is   he   of  his 
tongue ! 

Alo?iso.  I  prithee,  spare. 

Gonzalo.   Well,  I  have  done ;  but  yet  — 

Sebastian.    He  will  be  talking. 

Anto?iio.    Which,   of   he   or   Adrian,   for  a  good 
wager,  first  begins  to  crow  ?  30 

Sebastian.    The  old  cock. 

Antonio.    The  cockerel.  (\.^j««u>.a^ 

THE   TEMPEST  —  4 


50  The  Tempest  [Act  ii 

Sehastiayi.    Done.     The  wager  ? 

Antonio.   Ajaughter. 

Sebastian.    A  match  ! 

Adrian.    Though  this  island  seem  to  be  desert,  — 

Antonio.   Ha,  ha,  ha  ! 

Sebastian.    So,  you  're  paid. 

Adrian.  Uninhabitable,  and  almost  inaccessible,  — 

Sebastian.    Yet,  —  40 

Adrian.    Yet,  — 

Antonio.    He  could  not  miss  't. 

Adrian.    It  must  needs  be  of  subtle,  tender,  and 
delicate  temperance. 

Antonio.    Temperance  was  a  delicate  wench. 

Sebastian.    Ay,  and  a  subtle  ;  as  he  most  learnedly 
deliver'd. 

Adrian.    The    air    breathes    upon    us   here    most 
sweetly. 

Sebastian.    As  if  it  had  lungs,  and  rotten  ones,  50 

Antonio.    Or  as  't  were  perfumed  by  a  fen. 

Gonzalo.    Here  is  every  thing  advantageous  to  life. 

Antonio.    True  ;  save  means  to  live. 

Sebastian.   Of  that  there  's  none,  or  little. 

Gonzalo.    How  lush   and   lusty   the   grass    looks  1 
how  green  I 

Antonio.    The  ground,  indeed,  is  tawny. 

Sebastian.    With  an  eye  of  green  in  't. 

Antonio.    He  misses  not  much. 

Sebastian.    No ;    he   doth   but    mistake    the   truth  6c 
totally. 


Scene  I]  The  Tempest  51 

Gonzalo.  But  the  rarity  of  it  is,  —  which  is  indeed 
almost  beyond  credit,  — 

Sebastian.    As  many  vouched  rarities  are, 

Gotizalo.  That  our  garments,  being,  as  they  were, 
drenched  in  the  sea,  hold,  notwithstanding,  their 
freshness  and  glosses,  being  rather  new-dyed  than 
stained  with  salt  water. 

Antonio.  If  but  one  of  his  pockets  could  speak, 
would  it  not  say  he  lies  ?  ?« 

Sebastian.  Ay,  or  very  falsely  pocket  up  his 
report. 

Gonzalo.  Methinks  our  garments  are  now  as  fresh 
as  when  we  put  them  on  first  in  Afric,  at  the  mar- 
riage of  the  king's  fair  daughter  Claribel  to  the 
King  of  Tunis. 

Sebastian.  'T  was  a  sweet  marriage,  and  we  pros- 
per  well  in  our  return. 

Adrian.  Tunis  was  never  graced  before  with  such 
a  paragon  to  their  queen.  8c 

Gonzalo.    Not  since  widow  Dido's  time. 
!     Antonio.    Widow !  a  plague  o'  that !     How  came 
that  widow  in  ?     Widow  Dido  ! 

Sebastian.  What  if  he  had  said  widower  ^.neas 
too  ?     Good  Lord,  how  you  take  it  I 

Adrian.  Widow  Dido,  said  you?  you  make  me 
study  of  that ;  she  was  of  Carthage,  not  of  Tunis. 

Gonzalo.   This  Tunis,  sir,  was  Carthage. 

Adrian.    Carthage  ? 

Gonzalo.    I  assure  jou,  Carthage.  9° 


P2  The  Tempest  [Act  ll 

Antonio.  His  word  is  more  than  the  miraculous 
harp. 

Sebastian.  He  hath  raised  the  wall,  and  houses 
too. 

Antonio.  What  impossible  matter  will  he  make 
easy  next  ? 

Sebastian.  I  think  \e  will  carry  this  island  home 
in  his  pocket,  and  give  it  his  son  for  an  apple. 

Antonio.  And,  sowing  the  kernels  of  it  in  the  sea, 
bring  forth  more  islands.  loo 

Gonzalo.    Ay  ? 

Antonio.    Why,  in  good  time. 

Gonzalo.  Sir,  we  were  talking  that  our  garments 
seem  now  as  fresh  as  when  we  were  at  Tunis  at  the 
marriage  of  your  daughter  who  is  now  queen. 

Antonio.    And  the  rarest  that  e'er  came  there. 

Sebastian.    Bate,  I  beseech  you,  widow  Dido. 

Antonio.   O,  widow  Dido  !  ay,  widow  Dido, 

Gonzalo.  Is  not,  sir,  my  doublet  as  fresh  as  the 
first  day  I  wore  it  ?     I  mean,  in  a  sort.  no 

Antonio.    That  sort  was  well  fished  for. 

Gonzalo.  When  I  wore  it  at  your  daughter's  mar- 
riage? 

Alonso.   You  cram  these  words   into   mine   ears 
against 
The  stomach  of  my  sense.     Would  I  had  never 
Married  my  daughter  there  !  for,  coming  thence, 
My  son  is  lost ;  and,  in  my  rale,  she  too, 
Who  is  so  far  from  Italy  remov'd 


Scene  I]  The  Tempest  ^^ 

I  ne'er  again  shall  see  her.  —  O  thou  mine  heir 

Of  Naples  and  of  Milan,  what  strange  fish  120 

Hath  made  his  meal  on  thee  ? 

Francisco.  Sir,  he  may  live. 

I  saw  him  beat  the  surges  under  him 
And  ride  upon  their  backs  ;  he  trod  the  wacer, 
Whose  enmity  he  flung  aside,  and  breasted 
The  surge  most  swoln  that  met  him ;  his  bold  head 
'Bove  the  contentious  waves  he  kept,  and  oar'd 
Himself  with  his  good  arms  in  lusty  stroke 
To  the  shore,  that  o'er  his  wave-worn  basis  bow'd, 
As  stooping  to  relieve  him.     I  not  doubt 
He  came  alive  to  land. 

Alonso.  No,  no,  he 's  gone.  130 

Sebastian.    Sir,  you  may  thank  yourself  for  this  great 
loss. 
That  would  not  bless  our  Europe  with  your  daughter, 
But  rather  lose  her  to  an  African  ; 
Where  she  at  least  is  banish'd  from  your  eye, 
Who  hath  cause  to  wet  the  grief  on  't. 

Alonso.  Prithee,  peace. 

Sebastian.   You   were    kneel'd    to,    and    importun'd 
otherwise. 
By  all  of  us ;  and  the  fair  soul  herself 
Weigh'd,  between  loathness  and  obedience,  at 
Which  end  o'  the  beam  she  'd  bow.     We  have  lost  your 

son, 
I  fear,  forever ;  Milan  and  Naples  have  140 

Moe  widows  in  them  of  this  business'  making 


^4  1  he  Tempest  [Act  ii 

Tlian  we  bring  men  to  comfort  them  ;  the  fault 's 
Vour  own. 

Alo/iso.    So  is  the  dear'st  o'  the  loss. 

Gonza/o.  IMy  lord  Sebastian. 

The  truth  you  speak  doth  lack  some  gentleness 
And  time  to  speak  it  in  ;  you  rub  the  sore 
When  you  should  bring  the  plaster. 

Sebastian.  Very  well. 

Antonio.    And  most  rhirurgeonly.  ^j^uu «-  •>-w^v^-'«v^ 

Gonzalo.    It  is  foul  weather  in  us  all,  good  sir, 
When  you  are  cloudy. 

Sebastian.  Foul  weather  ? 

Antonio.  Very  foul.  150 

Gonzalo.    Had  I  plantation  of  this  isle,  my  lord,  — 

Antonio.    He  'd  sow  't  with  nettle-seed. 

Sebastian.  Or  docks,  or  mallows. 

Gonzalo.    And  were  the  king  on  't,  what  would  I  do  ? 

Sebastian.     Scape  being  drunk,  for  want  of  wine. 

Gonzalo.    V  the  commonwealth  I  would  by  contraries 
Execute  all  things ;  for  no  kind  of  traffic 
Would  I  admit ;  no  name  of  magistrate  ; 
Letters  should  not  be  known  ;  riches,  poverty, 
And  use  of  service,  none ;  contract,  succession, 
Bourn,  bound  of  land,  tilth,  vineyard,  none;  160 

No  use  of  metal,  corn,  or  wine,  or  oil ; 
No  occupation  ;  all  men  idle,  all ; 
And  women  too,  but  innocent  and  pure ; 
No  sovereignty  ;  — 

Sebastian.  Yet  he  would  be  king  on  't. 


Scene  ij  The  Tempest  55 

Antonio.  The  latter  end  of  his  commonwealth  for- 
gets the  beguining. 

Gonzalo.    All     things     in     common    nature    should 
produce 
Without  sweat  or  endeavour ;  treason,  felony, 
Sword,  pike,  knife,  gun,  or  need  of  any  engine, 
Would  I  not  have  ;  but  nature  should  bring  forth,      170 
Of  it  own  kind,  all  foison,  all  abundance, 
To  feed  my  innocent  people. 

Sebastian.    No  marrying  'mong  his  subjects  ? 

Antonio.    None,  man  ;  all  idle,  whores  and  knaves. 

Gonzalo.  I  would  with  such  perfection  govern,  sir, 
To  excel  the  golden  age. 

Sebastian.  Save  his  majesty  I 

Antonio.    Long  live  Gonzalo  ! 

Gonzalo.  And,  —  do  you  mark  me,  sir?  — 

Alonso.    Prithee,  no  more  ;  thou  dost  talk  nothing 
to  me. 

Gonzalo.    I  do  well  believe  your  highness,  and  did 
it  to  minister  occasion  to  these  gentlemen,  who  are  iS^ 
of  such  sensible  and  nimble  lungs  that  they  always 
use  to  laugh  at  nothing. 

Antonio.    'T  was  you  we  laughed  at. 

Gonzalo.  Who,  in  this  kind  of  merry  fooling,  am 
nothing  to  you ;  so  you  may  continue,  and  laugh  at 
nothing  still. 

Antonio.    What  a  blow  was  there  given  I 

Sebastian.    An  it  had  not  fallen  fiat-long. 

Gonzalo.    You  are  gentlemen  of  brave  mettle  ;  you 


56  The  Tempest  [Act  11 

would  lift  the  moon  out  of  her  sphere,  if  she  would  190 
continue  in  it  five  weeks  without  changing. 

Enter  Ariel  (ifivisible)  playing  solemn  music 

Sebastian.    We  would  so,  and  then  go  a  bat-fowling. 

Antonio.    Nay,  good  my  lord,  be  not  angry. 

Gonzalo.  No,  I  warrant  you  ;  I  will  not  adventure 
my  discretion  so  weakly.  Will  you  laugh  me  asleep, 
for  I  am  very  heavy  ? 

Antonio.    Go  sleep,  and  hear  us. 

\All  sleep  except  Alonso,  Sebastian,  and  Antonio. 

Alonso.  What,  all  so  soon  asleep  !  I  wish  mine  eyes 
Would,  with  themselves,  shut  up  my  thoughts ;  I  find 
They  are  inclin'd  to  do  so. 

Sebastian.  Please  you,  sir,  aoo 

Do  not  omit  the  heavy  offer  of  it. 
It  seldom  visits  sorrow ;  when  it  doth, 
It  is  a  comforter. 

Antonio.  We  two,  my  lord, 

Will  guard  your  person  while  you  take  your  rest 
And  watch  your  safety. 

Alonso.  Thank  you.  —  Wondrous  heavy. 

\^Alonso  sleeps.     Exit  Ariel. 

Sebastian.   What  a  strange  drowsiness  possesses  them  I 

Antonio.    It  is  the  quality  o'  the  climate. 

Sebastian.  Why 

Doth  it  not  then  our  eyelids  sink  ?     I  find  not 
Myself  dispos'd  to  sleep. 

Antonio,  Nor  I ;  my  spirits  are  nimble 


Scene  I]     ^  The  Tempest  57 

They  fell  together  all,  as  by  consent ;  210 

They  dropp'd,  as  by  a  thunder-stroke.     What  might, 

Worthy  Sebastian  ?  —  O,  what  might  ?  —  No  more.  — 

And  yet  methinks  I  see  it  in  thy  face. 

What  thou  shouldst  be  ;  the  occasion  speaks  thee,  anc 

My  strong  imagination  sees  a  crown 

Dropping  upon  thy  head. 

Sebastian.  What,  art  thou  waking  ? 

Antonio.    Do  you  not  hear  me  speak  ? 

Sebastian.  I  do  ;  and  surely 

It  is  a  sleepy  language,  and  thou  speak'st 
Out  of  thy  sleep.     What  is  it  thou  didst  say  ? 
This  is  a  strange  repose,  to  be  asleep  220 

With  eyes  wide  open  ;  standing,  speaking,  moving, 
And  yet  so  fast  asleep. 

Antonio.  Noble  Sebastian, 

Thou  let'st  thy  fortune  sleep  —  die,  rather  ;  wink'st 
Whiles  thou  art  waking. 

Sebastian.  Thou  dost  snore  distinctly ; 

There's  meaning  in  thy  snores. 

Antonio.    I  am  more  serious  than  my  custom  ;  yoi 
Must  be  so  too,  if  heed  me,  which  to  do 
Trebles  thee  o'er. 

Sebastian.  Well,  I  am  standing  water. 

Antonio.    I  '11  teach  you  how  to  flow. 

Sebastian.  Do  so ;  to  ebb 

Hereditary  sloth  instructs  me. 

Afifonio.  O,  230 

If  you  but  knew  how  you  the  purpose  cherish 


58  The  Tempest  [Act  u 

Whiles  thus  you  mock  it !  how,  in  stripping  it, 
You  more  invest  it !     Ebbing  men,  indeed, 
Most  often  do  so  near  the  bottom  run 
By  their  own  fear  or  sloth. 

Sekzsfian.  Prithee,  say  on  ; 

The  setting  of  thine  eye  and  cheek  proclaim 
A  matter  from  thee,  and  a  birth,  indeed, 
^Vhich  throes  thee  much  to  yield. 

Antonio.  Thus,  sir  : 

Although  this  lord  of  weak  remembrance,  — this. 
Who  shall  be  of  as  little  memory  240 

When  he  is  earth 'd,  —  hath  here  almost  persuaded, — 
For  he  's  a  spirit  of  persuasion,  only 
Professes  to  persuade,  — the  king  his  son  's  alive, 
'T  is  as  impossible  that  he  's  undrown'd 
As  he  that  sleeps  here  swims. 

Sebastian.  I  have  no  hope 

That  he  's  undrown'd. 

Antonio.  O,  out  of  that  no  hope 

What  great  hope  have  you  !  no  hope  that  way  is 
Vnother  way  so  high  a  hope  that  even 
Ambition  can  not  pierce  a  wink  beyond,  249 

liut  doubts  discovery  there.     Will  you  grant  with  me 
That  Ferdinand  is  drown'd  ? 

Sebastian.  He  's  gone.  i 

Antonio.  Then,  tell  me,  * 

Who  's  the  ne.xt  heir  of  Naples  ? 

Sebastian.  Clariljel. 

Antonio.    She  that  is  Queen  of  Tunis  ;  siic  that  dwells 


Scene  I]  The  Tempest  59 

Ten  leagues  beyond  man's  life  ;  she  that  from  Naples 

Can  have  no  note,  unless  the  sun  were  post,  — 

The  man  i'  the  moon  's  too  slow  —  till  new-born  chins 

Be  rough  and  razorable  ;  she  from  whom 

We  all  were  sea-swallow'd,  though  some  cast  again. 

And  by  that  destiny  to  perform  an  act 

Whereof  what  's  past  is  prologue,  what  to  come  260 

In  yours  and  my  discharge. 

Sebastian.  What  stuff  is  this  !    How  say  you  ? 

'T  is  true,  my  brother's  daughter  's  Queen  of  Tunis ; 
So  is  she  heir  of  Naples  ;  'twixt  which  regions 
There  is  some  space. 

Antonio.  A  space  whose  every  cubit 

Seems  to  cry  out,  '  How  shall  that  Claribel 
Measure  us  back  to  Naples  ?     Keep  in  Tunis, 
And  let  Sebastian  wake.'     Say,  this  were  death 
That  now  hath  seiz'd  them ;  why,  they  were  no  worse 
Than  now  they  are.     There  be  that  can  rule  Naples 
As  well  as  he  that  sleeps,  lords  that  can  prate  270 

As  amply  and  unnecessarily 
As  this  Gonzalo ;  I  myself  could  make 
A  chough  of  as  deep  chat.     O,  that  you  bore 
The  mind  that  I  do  !  what  a  sleep  were  this 
For  your  advancement !     Do  you  understand  me  ? 

Sebastian.    Methinks  I  do. 

Antonio.  And  how  does  your  content 

Tender  your  own  good  fortune  ? 

Sebastiaii.  I  remember 

You  did  supplant  your  brother  Prospero. 


6o  The  Tempest  [Act  n 

Antonio.  True ; 

And  look  how  well  my  garments  sit  upon  me, 
Much  feater  than  before.     My  brother's  servants        280 
Were  then  my  fellows,  now  they  are  my  men. 

Sebastian.    But,  for  your  conscience  — 

Antonio.    Ay,  sir  ;  where  lies  that  ?     If  't  were  a  kibe, 
'T  would  put  me  to  my  clipper ;  but  I  feel  not 
This  deity  in  my  bosom.     Twenty  consciences. 
That  stand  'twixt  me  and  Milan,  candied  be  they 
And  melt,  ere  they  molest !     Here  lies  your  brother, 
No  better  than  the  earth  he  lies  upon, 
If  he  were  that  which  now  he  's  like,  that 's  dead  ; 
Whom  I,  with  this  obedient  steel,  three  inches  of  it, 
Can  lay  to  bed  forever,  whiles  you,  doing  thus,  291 

To  the  perpetual  wink  for  aye  might  put 
This  ancient  morsel,  this  Sir  Prudence,  who 
Should  not  upbraid  our  course.     For  all  the  rest, 
They  '11  take  suggestion  as  a  cat  laps  milk  ; 
They  '11  tell  the  clock  to  any  business  that 
We  say  befits  the  hour. 

Sebastian.  Thy  case,  dear  friend, 

Shall  be  my  precedent ;  as  thou  got'st  Milan 
1  '11  come  by  Naples.     Draw  thy  sword  ;  one  stroke 
Shall  free  thee  from  the  tribute  which  thou  pay'st,      300 
And  I  the  king  shall  love  thee. 

Antonio.  Draw  together ; 

And  when  I  rear  my  hand,  do  you  the  like. 
To  fall  it  on  Gonzalo. 

Sebastian.  O,  but  one  word.  [^They  talk  apart 


Scene  IT  The  Tempest  6i 

Enter  Ariel,  with  music  and  song 

Ariel.  My  master  through  his  art  foresees  the  danger 
That  you,  his  friend,  are  in,  and  sends  me  forth,  — 
For  else  his  project  dies,  —  to  keep  them  living. 

[Sings  in  Gonzalo's  ear. 

While  you  here  do  snoring  lie^ 
Open-eyed  conspiracy 

His  time  doth  take. 
If  of  life  you  keep  a  care,  310 

Shake  off  slumber  and  beware; 

Awake  1  Awake  I 

Antonio.   Then  let  us  both  be  sudden. 

Gonzalo  [  Waking\  Now,  good  angels 

Preserve  the  king !  —  \To  Sebastian  and  Antonio]  Why, 

how  now  ?  —  \To  Alonso]  Ho,  awake  !  — 
[To  Sebastian  and  Antonio]  Why  are  you  drawn  ?  where- 
fore this  ghastly  looking  ? 

Alonso  [  IVaking].  What 's  the  matter  ? 

Sebastian.  Whiles  we  stood  here  securing  your  repose, 
Even  now,  we  heard  a  hollow  burst  of  bellowing 
Like  bulls,  or  rather  lions  ;  did  't  not  wake  yo  i  ?         319 
It  struck  mine  ear  most  terribly. 

Alonso.  I  heard  nothing. 

Antonio.   O,  't  was  a  din  to  fright  a  monster's  ear, 
To  make  an  earthquake  ;  sure,  it  was  the  roar 
Of  a  whole  herd  of  lions. 

Alonso.  Heard  you  this,  Gonzalo  ? 


62  The    J  empest  [Act  ii 

Gonzalo.    Upon   mine  honour,  sir,   I   heard  a  hum- 
ming,— 
And  that  a  strange  one  too,  —  which  did  awake  me. 
I  shak'd  you,  sir,  and  cried  ;  as  mine  eyes  open'd 
I  saw  their  weapons  drawn  ;  —  there  was  a  noise, 
That  "s  verily.     'T  is  best  we  stand  upon  our  guard, 
Or  that  we  quit  this  place ;  let  's  draw  our  weapons. 

Alonso.    Lead  off  this  ground,  and  let 's  make  further 
search  330 

For  my  poor  son. 

Gonzalo.  Heavens  keep  him  from  these  beasts ! 

For  he  is,  sure,  i'  the  island. 

Alonso.  TJead  away. 

Ariel.    Prospero  my   lord  shall   know  what   I    have 
done ; 
So,  king,  go  safely  on  to  seek  thy  son.  \Exeunt. 

Scene  II.     Another  Part  of  the  Island 

Enter  Cai.ibax,  loith  a  burthen  of  wood.     A  noise  of 
thunder  heard 

Caliban.    All  the  infections  that  the  sun  sucks  up 
From  bogs,  fens,  flats,  on  Prosper  fall  and  make  him 
By  inch-meal  a  disease  !     His  spirits  hear  me. 
And  yet  I  needs  must  curse.     But  they  '11  nor  pinch, 
Fright  me  with  urchin-shows,  pitch  me  i'  the  mire, 
\or  lead  me,  like  a  firebrand,  in  the  dark 
( )ut  of  my  way,  unless  he  bid  'em  :  but 
l-'or  every  trille  are  they  set  upon  me ; 


Scene  II]  The   Tempest  Sj 

Sometime  like  apes,  that  mow  and  chatter  at  me 

And  after  bite  me  ;  then  hlce  hedgehogs,  which  ic 

Lie  tumbhng  in  my  barefoot  way,  and  mount 

Their  pricks  at  my  footfall ;  sometime  am  I 

All  wound  with  adders,  who  with  cloven  tongues 

Do  hiss  me  into  madness.  — 

Ejiter  Trinculo    «*- •L»--aV*-vj 

Lo,  now,  lo ! 
Here  comes  a  spirit  uf  his,  and  to  torment  me 
For  bringing  wood  in  sl-i^wly,     I  '11  fall  flat ; 
Perchance  he  will  not  mind  me. 

Tri7iculo.  Here  's  neither  bush  nor  shrub,  to  bear 
off  any  weather  at  all,  and  another  storm  brewing ; 
I  hear  it  sing  i'  the  wind.  Yond  same  black  cloud,  20 
yond  huge  one,  looks  like  a  foul  bombard  that  would 
shed  his  liquor.  If  it  should  thunder  as  it  did  before, 
I  know  not  where  to  hide  my  head  ;  yond  same  cloud 
cannot  choose  but  fall  by  pailfuls.  —  What  have  we 
here  ?  a  man  or  a  fish  ?  dead  or  alive  ?  A  fish  I  he 
smells  like  a  fish ;  a  very  ancient  and  fishlike  smell ; 
a  kind  of,  not  of  the  newest,  Poor-John.  A  strange 
fish !  Were  I  in  England  now,  as  once  I  was,  and 
had  but  this  fish  painted,  not  a  holiday  fool  there  but 
would  give  a  piece  of  silver.  There  would  this  mon-  -50 
ster  make  a  man  ;  any  strange  beast  there  makes  a 
man.  When  they  will  not  give  a  doit  to  relieve  a 
lame  beggar,  they  will  lay  out  ten  to  see  a  dead  Ind- 
ian.    Legged  like  a  man !    and  his  fins  like  arms  \ 


64  The  Tempest  [Act  11 

Warm  o'  my  troth  I  I  do  now  let  loose  my  opinion, 
hold  it  no  longer  ;  this  is  no  tish,  but  an  islander  that 
hath  lately  suffered  by  a  thunderbolt.  \^T/iiinder.'\ 
Alas,  the  storm  is  come  again  I  my  best  way  is  to 
creep  under  his  gaberdine ;  there  is  no  other  shelter 
hereabout.  Misery  acquaints  a  man  with  strange  40 
bed-fellows.  I  will  here  shroud  till  the  dregs  of  the 
storm  be  past. 

Enter  Stephano,  sifiging :  a  bottle  in  his  hand 

Stephano.  I  shall  no  more  to  sea,  to  sea, 

Here  shall  I  die  ashore,  — 
This  is  a  very  scurvy  tune  to  sing  at  a  man's  funeral. 
Well,  here  's  my  comfort.  \Drinks. 

[Sings]   The  master,  the  swabber,  the  boatswain,  and  I, 
The  gunfier,  and  his  fnate, 
Lov'd  Mall,  Meg,  and  Marian,  and  Margery, 

But  none  of  us  car' d  for  Kate  ;  50 

For  she  had  a  tongue  with  a  tang, 
Would  cry  to  a  sailor,  Go  hang  / 
Then,  to  sea,  boys,  and  let  her  go  hang  ! 

This  is  a  scurvy  tune  too ;  but  here  's  my  comfort. 

\^Drinks. 

Caliban.    Do  not  torment  me  !  —  01 

Stephano.  What  's  the  matter  ?  Have  we  devils 
here  ?  Uo  you  put  tricks  upon  's  with  savages  and 
men  of  Ind,  ha?  I  have  not  scaped  drowning  to  be 
afeard  now  of  your  four  legs ;  for  it  hath  been  said, 
as  proper  a  man  as  ever  went  on  four  legs  cannot  60 


Scene  IIJ  The  Tempest  65 

make  him  give  ground  ;  and  it  shall  be  said  so  again, 
while  Stephano  breathes  at  nostrils. 

Caliban.    The  spirit  torments  me  !  —  O  ! 

Stephano.  This  is  some  monster  of  the  isle  with 
four  legs,  who  hath  got,  as  I  take  it,  an  ague.  Where 
the  devil  should  he  learn  our  language  ?  I  will  give 
him  some  relief,  if  it  be  but  for  that.  If  I  can  re- 
cover him,  and  keep  him  tame,  and  get  to  Naples 
with  him,  he  's  a  present  for  any  emperor  that  ever 
trod  on  neat's-leather.  70 

Caliban.    Do  not  torment  me,  prithee  ;  I  '11  bring  my 
wood  home  faster. 

Stephano.  He  's  in  his  fit  now,  and  does  not  talk 
after  the  wisest.  He  shall  taste  of  my  bottle  ;  if  he 
have  never  drunk  wine  afore,  it  will  go  near  to  re- 
move his  fit.  If  I  can  recover  him  and  keep  him 
tame,  I  will  not  take  too  much  for  him  ;  he  shall  pay 
for  him  that  hath  him,  and  that  soundly. 

Caliban.  Thou  dost  me  yet  but  little  hurt ;  thou 
wilt  anon,  I  know  it  by  thy  trembling ;  now  Prosper 
works  upon  thee.  8c 

Stephano.  Come  on  your  ways  ;  open  your  mouth  ; 
here  is  that  which  will  give  language  to  you,  cat. 
Open  your  mouth  ;  this  will  shake  your  shaking,  I 
can  tell  you,  and  that  soundly.  You  cannot  tell 
who  's  your  friend ;  open  your  chaps  again. 

Triticulo.  I  should  know  that  voice.  It  should 
be  —  but  he  is  drowned  ;  and  these  are  devils  I  —  O, 
defend  me ! 

THE   TEMPEST  —  5 


66  The  Tempest  [Act  ii 

Stephano.  Four  legs  and  two  voices !  a  most  deli- 
cate monster !  His  forward  voice,  now,  is  to  speak  90 
well  of  his  friend  ;  his  backward  voice  is  to  utter 
foul  speeches  and  to  detract.  If  all  the  wine  in 
my  bottle  will  recover  him,  I  will  help  his  ague. 
Come.  —  Amen ! —  I  will  pour  some  in  thy  other 
mouth. 

TrinculG.    Stephano. 

Stephano.  Doth  thy  other  mouth  call  me  ?  Mercy, 
mercy!  This  is  a  devil,  and  no  monster!  I  will 
leave  him  ;  I  have  no  long  spoon. 

Trincido.    Stephano !      If   thou   beest   Stephano,  100 
touch  me,  and  speak  to  me ;  for  I  am  Trinculo,  — 
be  not  afeard,  —  thy  good  friend  Trinculo. 

Stephano.  If  thou  beest  Trinculo,  come  forth.  I  '11 
pull  thee  by  the  lesser  legs  ;  if  any  be  Trinculo's  legs, 
these  are  they.  —  Thou  art  very  Trinculo  indeed ! 
How  earnest  thou  to  be  the  siege  of  this  moon-calf  ? 
Can  he  vent  Trinculos  ? 

Trinculo.  I  took  him  to  be  killed  with  a  thunder- 
stroke. —  But  art  thou  not  drowned,  Stephano  ?  I 
hope,  now,  thou  art  not  drowned.  Is  the  storm  over-  nc 
blown  ?  I  hid  me  under  the  dead  moon-calf's  gaber- 
dine for  fear  of  the  storm.  And  art  thou  living, 
.Stephano?     ()  Stephano,  two  Neapolitans  scaped? 

Stephano.  Prithee,  do  not  turn  me  about ;  my 
stomach  is  not  constant. 

Caliban.    These   be  fine  things,  an    if   they  be  not 
sprites. 


Scene  II]  The  Tempest  67 

That  's  a  brave  god,  and  bears  celestial  liquor ; 
I  will  kneel  to  him. 

Stephana.  How  didst  thou  scape  ?  How  earnest 
thou  hither  ?  swear,  by  this  bottle,  how  thou  earnest  120 
hither.  I  escaped  upon  a  butt  of  sack,  which  the 
sailors  heaved  o'erboard,  by  this  bottle  !  —  which  I 
made  of  the  bark  of  a  tree  with  mine  own  hands, 
since  I  was  cast  ashore, 

Caliban.    I  '11  swear,  upon  that  bottle,  to  be  thy  true 
subject ; 
For  the  liquor  is  not  earthly. 

Stephana.    Here  ;  swear,  then,  how  thou  escapedst. 

Trincula.  Swam  ashore,  man,  like  a  duck ;  I  can 
swim  like  a  duck,  I  '11  be  sworn. 

Stephana.    Here,  kiss   the   book.      Though   thou  130 
canst  swim  like  a  duck,  thou  art  made  like  a  goose. 

Trinculo.    O  Stephano,  hast  any  more  of  this  ? 

Stephana.  The  whole  butt,  man  ;  my  cellar  is  in  a 
rock  by  the  sea-side,  where  my  wine  is  hid.  —  How 
now,  moon-calf  !  how  does  thine  ague  ? 

Caliban.    Hast  thou  not  dropped  from  heaven  ? 

Stephano.  Out  o'  the  moon,  I  do  assure  thee ;  I 
■.vas  the  man  i'  the  moon  when  time  was.  138 

Caliban.    I  have  seen  thee  in  her,  and  I  do  adore  thee  ; 
My  mistress  show'd  me  thee,  and  thy  dog,  and  thy  bush. 

Stephano.  Come,  swear  to  that ;  kiss  the  book.  I 
will  furnish  it  anon  with  new  contents  ;  swear. 

Trinculo.  By  this  good  light,  this  is  a  very  shallow 
monster  !  —  I   afeard   of  him  !  —  A  very  weak   mon- 


68  The  Tempest  [Act  ii 

ster  !  —  The  man  i'  the  moon  !  —  A  most  poor  credu- 
lous monster  !  —  Well  drawn,  monster,  in  good  sooth  ! 

Caliban.  I  '11  show  thee  every  fertile  inch  o'  the  island  ; 
And  I  will  kiss  thy  foot.     I  prithee,  be  my  god. 

Trinculo.    By   this    light,  a  most   perfidious   and 
drunken  monster  1    When  's  god  's  asleep,  he  '11  rob  150 
his  bottle. 

Calidan.    I  '11  kiss  thy  foot;    I  '11  swear  myself  thy 
subject. 

Stephana.    Come  on,  then  ;  down,  and  swear, 

Trinculo.  I  shall  laugh  myself  to  death  at  this 
puppy-headed  monster.  A  most  scurvy  monster  1  I 
could  find  in  my  heart  to  beat  him,  — 

Stephana.    Come,  kiss. 

Trinculo.    But  that  the  poor  monster  's  in  drink. 
An  abominable  monster ! 

Caliban.    I  '11  show  thee  the  best  springs  ;  I  '11  pluck 
thee  berries ;  160 

I  '11  fish  for  thee,  and  get  thee  wood  enough. 
A  plague  upon  the  tyrant  that  I  serve  ! 
I  '11  bear  him  no  more  sticks,  but  follow  thee, 
Thou  wondrous  man. 

Trinculo.  A  most  ridiculous  monster,  to  make  a 
wonder  of  a  poor  drunkard  ! 

Caliban.    I  prithee,  let  me  bring  thee  where   crabs 
grow  : 
And  I  with  my  long  nails  will  dig  thee  pig-nuts, 
Show  thee  a  jay's  nest,  and  instruct  thee  how 
To  snare  the  nimble  marmoset.     I  '11  bring  thee         170 


Scene  II]  The  Tempest  69 

To  clustering  filberts ;  and  sometimes  I  '11  get  thee 
Young  scamels  from  the  rock.     Wilt  thou  go  with  me  ? 

Stephana.  I  prithee  now,  lead  the  way  without  any- 
more talking.  —  Trinculo,  the  king  and  all  our  com- 
pany else  being  drowned,  we  will  inherit  here.  — 
Here,  bear  my  bottle.  —  Fellow  Trinculo,  we  '11  fill 
him  by  and  by  again. 

Caliban  {^Sings  drunkenly].    Farewell,    master ;    fare- 
well, farewell ! 
Trinculo.    A  howling  monster  ;  a  drunken  monster  1 
Caliban.   No  more  dajjis  I '  II  make  for  fish  ;  180 

Nor  fetch  in  firing 
At  requiring; 
Nor  scrape  trenchering,  nor  wash  dish. 
^Ban,  ''Ban,  Ca-caliban 
Has  a  ?iew  master ;  — get  a  new  man. 
Freedom,  heyday !  heyday,  freedom  !  freedom,  hey- 
day, freedom  ! 

Siephano.   O  brave  monster  1     Lead  the  way. 

\Exeunt. 


M*'::"'!.. 


f^l 


ACT   III 


Scene  I.     Before  Prosperous  Ceil 

Enter  Ferdinand,  hearing  a  log 

Ferdinand.    There  be  some  sports  are  painful,  and 
their  labour 
Delight  in  them  sets  off ;  some  kinds  of  baseness 
Are  nobly  undergone,  and  most  poor  matters 
Point  to  rich  ends.     This  my  mean  task 
Would  be  as  heavy  to  me  as  odious,  but 
I'he  mistress  which  I  serve  quickens  what  's  dead 
70 


Scene  I]  The  Tempest  71 

And  makes  my  labours  pleasures.     O,  she  is 
Ten  times  more  gentle  than  her  father  's  crabbed, 
And  he  's  composed  of  harshness  1     I  must  remove 
Some  thousands  of  these  logs  and  pile  them  up,  10 

Upon  a  sore  injunction.     My  sweet  mistress 
Weeps   when   she   sees   me   work,   and   says   such 

baseness 
Had  never  like  executor.     I  forget ; 
But  these  sweet  thoughts  do  even  refresh  my  labours, 
Most  busy,  least  when  I  do  it. 

Enter  Miranda,  and  Prospero  at  a  distance 

Miranda.  Alas  !  now,  pray  you, 

Work  not  so  hard  ;  I  would  the  lightning  had 
Burnt  up  those  logs  that  you  are  enjoin 'd  to  pile  I 
Pray,  set  it  down  and  rest  you  ;  when  this  burns 
'T  will  weep  for  having  wearied  you.     My  father 
Is  hard  at  study  ;  pray,  now,  rest  yourself  ;  20 

He  's  safe  for  these  three  hours. 

Ferdinand.  O  most  dear  mistresS; 

The  sun  will  set  before  I  shall  discharge 
What  I  must  strive  to  do. 

Miranda.  If  you  '11  sit  down, 

I  '11  bear  your  logs  the  while.     Pray,  give  me  that ; 
I  '11  carry  it  to  the  pile. 

FerdinaJid.  No,  precious  creature  ; 

I  had  rather  crack  my  sinews,  break  my  back, 
Than  you  should  such  dishonour  undergo 
While  I  sit  lazy  by. 


72  The  Tempest  [Act  iii 

Miranda.  It  would  become  me 

As  well  as  it  does  you ;  and  I  should  do  it 
With  much  more  ease,  for  my  good  will  is  to  it,  3° 

And  yours  it  is  against.  juXLl^  Xfr^J^^^-y-^ 

Prospero.  Poor  worm,  thou  art  infected  1 

This  visitation  shows  it, 

Miranda.  You  look  wearily. 

Ferdinand.    No,  noble  mistress  ;  't  is  fresh  morn- 
ing with  me 
When  you  are  by  at  night,     I  do  beseech  you,  — 
Chiefly  that  I  might  set  it  in  my  prayers, — 
What  is  your  name  ? 

Miranda.  Miranda.  —  O  my  father, 

I  have  broke  your  hest  to  say  so  ! 

Ferdinand.  ~^  Admir'd  Miranda ! 

Indeed  the  top  of  admiration,  worth 
What  's  dearest  to  the  world !     Full  many  a  lady 
I  have  eyed  with  best  regard,  and  many  a  time  40 

The  harmony  of  their  tongues  hath  into  bondage 
Brought  my  too  diligent  ear.     For  several  virtues 
Have  I  lik'd  several  women,  never  any 
With  so  full  soul  but  some  defect  in  her 
Did  quarrel  with  the  noblest  grace  she  owed 
And  put  it  to  the  foil ;  but  you,  O  you, 
So  perfect  and  so  peerless,  are  created 
Of  every  creature's  best  1 

Miranda.  I  do  not  know 

One  of  my  sex,  no  woman's  face  remember, 
Save,  from  my  glass,  mine  own  ;  nor  have  I  seen         50 


Scene  I]  The  Tempest  73 

More  that  I  may  call  men  than  you,  good  friend, 
And  my  dear  father.     How  features  are  abroad 
I  am  skilless  of ;  but,  by  my  modesty, 
The  jewel  in  my  dow^r,  I  would  not  wish 
Any  companion  in  the  world  but  you, 
Nor  can  imagination  form  a  shape. 
Besides  yourself,  to  like  of.  —  But  I  prattle 
Something  too  wildly,  and  my  father's  precepts 
I  therein  do  forget. 

Ferdinand.  I  am,  in  my  condition, 

A  prince,  Miranda  ;  I  do  think,  a  king  ;  —  60 

I  would,  notso  !  —  and  would  no  more  endure 
This  wooden  slavery  than  to  suffer 
The  flesh-fly  blow  my  mouth.     Hear  my  soul  speak : 
The  very  instant  that  I  saw  you,  did 
My  heart  fly  to  your  service  ;  there  resides, 
To  make  me  slave  to  it,  and  for  your  sake 
Am  I  this  patient  log-man. 

Miranda.  Do  you  love  me  ? 

Ferdinand.   O   heaven  1     O   earth !   bear  witness   to 
this  sound. 
And  crown  what  I  profess  with  kind  event, 
If  I  speak  true  ;  if  hollowly,  invert  7" 

What  best  is  boded  me  to  mischief !     I, 
Beyond  all  limit  of  what  else  i'  the  world, 
Do  love,  prize,  honour  you. 

Miranda.  I  am  a  fool 

To  weep  at  what  I  am  glad  of. 

Prospero.  Fair  encounter 


74  The  Tempest  [Act  m 

Of  two  most  rare  affections  !     Heavens  rain  grace 
On  that  which  breeds  between  'em  ! 

Ferdinand.  Wherefore  weep  you  ? 

Miranda.    At  mine  unworthiness,  that  dare  not  offer 
What  I  desire  to  give,  and  much  less  take 
What  I  shall  die  to  want.     But  this  is  trifling  ; 
And  all  the  more  it  seeKS  to  hide  itself,  So 

The  bigger  bulk  it  shows.     Hence,  bashful  cunning ! 
And  prompt  me,  plain  and  holy  innocence  ! 
I  am  your  wife,  if  you  will  marry  me  ; 
If  not,  I  '11  die  your  maid.     To  be  your  fellow 
You  may  deny  me,  but  I  '11  be  your  servant, 
Whether  you  will  or  no. 

Ferdinand.  My  mistress,  dearest, 

And  I  thus  humble  ever. 

Miranda.  My  husband,  then  ? 

Ferdinand.    Ay,  with  a  heart  as  willin;; 
As  bondage  e'er  of  freedom  ;  here  's  my  hand. 

Miranda.     And  mine,  with  my  heart  in  't ;  and  now 
farewell  90 

Till  half  an  hour  hence. 

Ferdinand.  A  thousand  thousand  ! 

\Excunt  Ferdinand  and  Miranda. 

Prospcro.    So  glad  of  this  as  they  I  cannot  be. 
Who  are  surpris'd  with  all  ;  but  my  rejoicing 
At  nothing  can  be  more.     1  '11  to  my  book, 
For  yet  ere  supper-time  must  I  perform 
Much  business  appertaining.  \_Exii 


Scene  II]  The  Tempest  yc 

Scene  II.     Another  Part  of  the  Island 
Enter  Caliban,  Stephano,  and  Trinculo 

Stephana.  Tell  not  me  ;  —  when  the  butt  is  out  we 
will  drink  water,  not  a  drop  before  ;  therefore  bear 
up,  and  board  'em.  —  Servant-monster,  drink  to  me. 

Trinculo.  Servant-monster  !  the  folly  of  this  island. 
They  say  there  's  but  five  upon  this  isle  :  we  are  three 
of  them  ;  if  th'  other  two  be  brained  like  us,  the  State 
totters. 

Stephano.  Drink,  servant-monster,  when  I  bid  thee; 
thy  eyes  are  almost  set  in  thy  head. 

Trhuulo.    Where  should  they  be  set  else  ?  he  were  lo 
a  brave  monster  indeed,  if  they  were  set  in  his  tail. 

Stephano.  My  man-monster  hath  drowned  his 
tongue  in  sack;  for  my  part,  the  sea  cannot  drown 
me.  I  swam,  ere  I  could  recover  the  shore,  five- 
and-thirty  leagues  off  and  on,  by  this  light  1  —  Thou 
shalt  be  my  lieutenant,  monster,  or  my  standard. 

Trinculo.  Your  lieutenant,  if  you  list ;  he  's  no 
standard. 

Stephano.    We  '11  not  run.  Monsieur  Monste.. 

Trinculo.    Nor  go  neither  ;  but  you  '11  lie,  like  dogs,  20 
and  yet  say  nothing  neither. 

Stephano.  Moon-calf,  speak  once  in  thy  life,  if 
thou  beest  a  good  moon-calf. 

Caliban.    How  does  thy  honour  ?    Let  me  lick  thy  shoe. 
I  '11  not  serve  him,  he  is  not  valiant. 


76  The  Tempest  [Act  in 

Trinculo.  Thou  liest,  most  ignorant  monster ;  I 
am  in  case  to  justle  a  constable.  Why,  thou  de- 
boshed  fish,  thou,  was  there  ever  man  a  coward  that 
hath  drunk  so  much  sack  as  I  to-day?  Wilt  thou 
tell  a  monstrous  lie,  being  but  half  a  fish  and  half  a  3c 
monster  ? 

Caliban.  Lo,  how  he  mocks  me  1  wilt  thou  let  him, 
my  lord  ? 

Trinculo.  Lord,  quoth  he  1  —  That  a  monster 
should  be  such  a  natural  ! 

Caliban.   Lo,  lo,  again  1  bite  him  to  death,  I  prithee. 

Stephana.  Trinculo,  keep  a  good  tongue  in  your 
head  ;  if  you  prove  a  mutineer,  —  the  next  tree  I 
The  poor  monster  's  my  subject,  and  he  shall  not 
suffer  indignity.  4° 

Caliban.    I  thank  my  noble  lord.    Wilt  thou  be  pleas'd 
To  hearken  once  again  to  the  suit  I  made  to  thee  ? 

Stephana.  Marry,  will  I :  kneel  and  repeat  it ;  I 
will  stand,  and  so  shall  Trinculo. 

Enter  Ariel,  invisible 

Caliban.    As  I  told  thee  before,  I  am  subject  to   a 
tyrant, 
A  sorcerer  that  by  his  cunning  hath  cheated  me 
Of  the  island. 

Ariel.    Thou  liest. 

Caliban.  Thou  liest,  thou  jesting  monkey,  thou  ; 

I  would  my  valiant  master  would  destroy  thee  1 
I  do  not  lie.  50 


Scene  II]  The  Tempest  77 

Stephana.  Trinculo,  if  you  trouble  him  any  more 
in  's  tale,  by  this  hand,  I  will  supplant  some  of  your 
teeth. 

Trinculo.    Why,  I  said  nothing. 

Stephana.    Mum,  then,  and  no  more.  —  Proceed. 

Caliban.    I  say,  by  sorcery  he  got  this  isle ; 
From  me  he  got  it.     If  thy  greatness  will, 
Revenge  it  on  him,  for  I  know  thou  dar'st, 
But  this  thing  dare  not. 

Stephana.    That  's  most  certain.  6t 

Caliban.    Thou   shalt   be  lord  of   it,  and  I  '11  serve 
thee. 

Stephana.  How  now  shall  this  be  compassed  ? 
Canst  thou  bring  me  to  the  party  ? 

Caliba?i.    Yea,   yea,  my    lord ;    I  '11   yield   him    thee 
asleep. 
Where  thou  mayst  knock  a  nail  into  his  head, 

Ariel.    Thou  liest ;  thou  canst  not. 

Caliban.   What  a  pied  ninny  's  this !     Thou  scurvy 
patch  1  — 
I  do  beseech  thy  greatness,  give  him  blows, 
And  take  his  bottle  from  him ;  when  that  's  gone, 
He  shall  drink   nought   but   brine,  for  I  'II   not   show 
him  70 

Where  the  quick  freshes  are. 

Stephana.  Trinculo,  run  into  no  further  danger ; 
interrupt  the  monster  one  word  further,  and,  by  this 
hand,  I  '11  turn  my  mercy  out  o'  doors  and  make  a 
stock-fish  of  thee. 


yg  The  Tempest  [Act  iii 

Trincido.   Why,  what  did  I  ?     I  did  nothing.     I  '11 
go  farther  off. 

Stephano.   Didst  thou  not  say  he  lied  ? 
Ariel.    Thou  liest. 

Stephano.    Do  I  so  ?  take  thou  that.     S^Beats  him.l  So 
As  you  like  this,  give  me  the  lie  another  time. 

Trincido.    I  did  not  give  the  lie.    Out  o'  your  wits, 
and  hearing  too  ?  —  A  pox  o'  your  bottle  !  this  can 
sack  and  drinking  do.  —  A  murrain  on  your  mon- 
ster, and  the  devil  take  your  fingers  1 
Caliban.   Ha,  ha,  ha  ! 

Stephano.    Now,  forward  with  your  tale.  —  Prithee, 
stand  farther  off, 

Caliban.   Beat  him  enough ;  after  a  little  time 
I  '11  beat  him  too. 

Stephano.  Stand  farther.  —  Come,  proceed.   90 

Caliban.   Why,  as  I  told  thee,  't  is  a  custom  with  him 
r  the  afternoon  to  sleep;  there  thou  mayst  brain  him, 
Having  first  seiz'd  his  books,  or  with  a  log 
Batter  his  skull,  or  paunch  him  with  a  stake, 
Or  cut  his  wezand  with  thy  knife.     Remember 
First  to  possess  his  books,  for  without  them 
He  's  but  a  sot  as  I  am,  nor  hath  not 
One  spirit  to  command ;  they  all  do  hate  him 
As  rootedly  as  I.     Burn  but  his  books. 
He  has  brave  utensils,  —  for  so  he  calls  them, —        100 
Which,  when  he  has  a  house,  he  '11  deck  withal. 
And  that  most  deeply  to  consider  is 
The  beauty  of  his  daughter.     He  himself 


Scene  II]  The  Tempest  79 

Calls  her  a  nonpareil.     I  never  saw  a  woman 
But  only  Sycorax  my  dam  and  she ; 
But  she  as  far  surpasseth  Sycorax 
As  great'st  does  least. 

Stephana .  Is  it  so  brave  a  lass  ? 

Caliban.    Ay,  lord ;  she    will   become   thy  bed,  I 
warrant, 
And  bring  thee  forth  brave  brood. 

Stephana.    Monster,  I    will    kill    this    man;    his  no 
daughter  and  I  w'ill  be  king  and  queen,  —  save  our 
graces !  —  and  Trinculo  and  thyself   shall  be  vice- 
roys.    Dost  thou  hke  the  plot,  Trinculo? 

Trinculo.    Excellent. 

Stephana.  Give  me  thy  hand ;  I  am  sorry  I  beat 
thee,  but  while  thou  livest  keep  a  good  tongue  in 
thy  head. 

Caliban.  Within  this  half  hour  will  he  be  asleep ; 
Wilt  thou  destroy  him  then  ? 

Stephana.  Ay,  on  mine  honour.  . 

Ariel.    This  will  I  tell  my  master.  12c 

Caliban.    Thou    mak'st    me     merry;    I    am    full   oi 
pleasure. 
Let  us  be  jocund  ;  will  you  troll  the  catch 
You  taught  me  but  while-ere  ? 

Stephana.  At  thy  request,  monster,  I  wall  do  rea- 
'.jon,  any  reason.  —  Come  on,  Trinculo,  let  us  sing. 

^^Sings 

Flaut  'em  a7id  scout  Vw,  ayid  scout  'em  and  flout  'em  ; 
Thought  is  free. 


8o  The  Tempest  [Act  in 

Caliban.    That 's  not  the  tune. 

[Ariel  plays  the  tune  on  a  tabor  and  pipe. 

Stephana.    What  is  this  same  ? 

Trinculo.    This  is  the  tune  of  our  catch,  played  by  130 
the  picture  of  Nobody. 

Stephano.    If  thou  beest  a  man,  show  thyself  in  thy 
likeness ;  if  thou  beest  a  devil,  take  't  as  thou  list. 

Trinculo.    O,  forgive  me  my  sins  ! 

Stephano.    He   that  dies  pays  all  debts;    I  defy 
thee.  —  Mercy  upon  us  1 

Caliban.    Art  thou  afeard  ? 

Stephano.    No,  monster,  not  I, 

Caliban.    Be  not  afeard  ;  the  isle  is  full  of  noises, 
Sounds   and   sweet   airs    that   give   delight   and   hurt 
not.  140 

Sometimes  a  thousand  twangling  instruments 
Will  hum  about  mine  ears ;  and  sometimes  voices, 
That,  if  I  then  had  wak'd  after  long  sleep, 
Will  make  me  sleep  again ;  and  then,  in  dreaming. 
The  clouds  methought  would  open  and  show  riches 
Ready  to  drop  upon  me ;  that,  when  I  wak'd, 
I  cried  to  dream  again. 

Stephano.    This  will  prove  a  brave  kingdom  to  me, 
where  I  shall  have  my  music  for  nothing. 

Caliban.    When  Prospero  is  destroy'd.  15c 

Stephano.   That  shall  be  by  and  by ;  I  remember 
the  story. 

Trinculo.   The  sound  is  going  away ;  let  's  follow 
it  and  after  do  our  vvorK 


Scene  III]  The  Tempest  8 1 

Stephana.    Lead,  monster  ;  we  '11  follow.  —  I  would 
I  could  see  this  taborer ;  he  lays  it  on. 

Trinculo.    Wilt  come  ?     I  '11  follow,  Stephano. 

\Exeunt. 


Scene  III.     Another  Part  cf  the  Island 

Enter  Alonso,  Sebastian,  Antonio,  Gonzalo, 
Adrian,  Francisco,  and  others 

Gonzalo.    By  'r  lakin,  I  can  go  no  further,  sir, 
My  old  bones  ache  ;  here  's  a  maze  trod,  indeed, 
Through  forthrights  and  meanders  I     By  your  patience, 
I  needs  must  rest  me. 

Alonso.  Old  lord,  I  cannot  blame  thee, 

Who  am  myself  attach'd  with  weariness, 
To  the  dulling  of  my  spirits  ;  sit  down  and  rest. 
Even  here  I  will  put  off  my  hope,  and  keep  it 
No  longer  for  my  flatterer  ;  he  is  drown'd 
Whom  thus  we  stray  to  find,  and  the  sea  mocks 
Our  frustrate  search  on  land.     Well,  let  him  go.  ic 

Antonio  [Aside  to  Sel>astian].   I   am  right  glad  that 
he  's  so  out  of  hope. 
Do  not,  for  one  repulse,  forgo  the  purpose 
That  you  resolv'd  to  effect. 

Sebastian  [Aside  to  Antonio'].  The  next  advantage 
Will  we  take  throughly. 

Anto7iio  [Aside  to  Sebastian].  Let  it  be  to-night ; 
For,  now  they  are  oppress'd  with  travel,  they 

THE  TEMPEST  —  6 


82  The  Tempest  [Act  m 

Will  not,  nor  cannot,  use  such  vigilance 
As  when  they  are  fresh. 

Sebastian  [Aside  to  Antonio\  1  say,  to-night ;  no  more. 

\_Solemn  and  strange  music. 
Alonso.    What  harmony  is  this  ?  —  My  good  friends, 

hark ! 
Gonzalo.    Marvellou.'  sweet  music  ! 

Enter  Prospero  above,  invisible.  Enter  several  strange 
Shapes,  bringing  in  a  banquet :  tliey  dance  about  it 
with  gentle  actions  of  salutation ;  and,  inviting  the 
King,  etc.  to  eat,  they  depart 

Alonso.    Give    us    kind    keepers,    heavens  I  —  What 
were  these  ?  20 

Sebastian.    A  living  drollery.     Now  I  will  believe 
That  there  are  unicorns ;  that  in  Arabia 
There  is  one  tree,  the  phtenix'  throne,  one  phoenix 
At  this  hour  reigning  there. 

Antonio.  I  '11  believe  both  ; 

And  what  does  else  want  credit,  come  to  me. 
And  I  '11  be  sworn  't  is  true ;  travellers  ne'er  did 

lie, 
Though  fools  at  home  condemn  'em. 

Gonzalo.  If  in  Naples 

I  should  report  this  now,  would  they  believe  me  ? 
If  I  should  say  I  saw  such  islanders, — 
For,  certes,  these  are  people  of  the  island,  —  30 

Who,  though  they  are  of  monstrous  shape,  yet,  note, 
Their  manners  are  more  gentle-kind  than  of 


Scene  III]  The  Tempest  83 

Our  human  generation  you  shall  find 
Many,  nay,  almost  any, 

Prospcro  \_Asidc\  Honest  lord. 

Thou  hast  said  well,  for  some  of  you  there  present 
Are  worse  than  devils. 

Alonso.  I  cannot  too  much  muse 

Such    shapes,    such     gesture,    and     such     sound,    ex- 
pressing— 
Although  they  want  the  use  of  tongue  —  a  kind 
Of  excellent  dumb  discourse. 

Prospero  \Aside\.  Praise  in  departing. 

Francisco.    They  vanish'd  strangely. 

Sebastian.  No  matter,  since 

They   have    left    their   viands   behind;    for   we   have 
stomachs.  -^—  41 

Will  't  please  you  taste  of  what  is  here  ^ 

Alonso.  Not  I. 

Gonzalo.    Faith,  sir,  you  need    not  fear.     When  we 
were  boys, 
Who  would  believe  that  there  were  mountaineers 
Dew-lapp'd  like  bulls,  whose  throats  had  hanging  at  'em 
Wallets  of  flesh  ?  or  that  there  were  such  men 
Whose  heads  stood  in  their  breasts  ?  which  now  we  find 
Each  putter-out  of  five  for  one  will  bring  us 
Good  warrant  of. 

Alonso.  I  will  stand  to  and  feed, 

Although  my  last ;  no  matter,  since  I  feel  50 

The  best  is  past.  —  Brother,  my  lord  the  duke, 
Stand  to,  and  do  as  we. 


84  The  Tempest  [Act  iii 

Thunder  and  lightning.  Enter  Ariel,  like  a  harpy,  claps 
his  wings  upon  the  table,  and  with  a  quaint  device  the 
banquet  vanishes 

Ariel.   You  are  three  men  of  sin,  whom  destiny,  — 
That  hath  to  instrument  this  lower  world 
And  what  is  in  't,  —  the  never-surfeited  sea 
Hath  caus'd  to  belch  up  you ;  and  on  this  island. 
Where  man  doth  not  inhabit,  —  you  'mongst  men 
Being  most  unfit  to  live.     I  have  made  you  mad  ; 
And  even  with  such-like  valour  men  hang  and  drown 
Their  proper  selves. 

\Alonso,  Sebastian,  etc.,  draw  their  swords. 
You  fools  !     I  and  my  fellows  60 
Are  ministers  of  Fate  ;  the  elements. 
Of  whom  your  swords  are  temper'd,  may  as  well 
Wound  the  loud  winds,  or  with  bemock'd-at  stabs 
Kill  the  still-closing  waters,  as  diminish 
One  dowle  that 's  in  my  plume.     My  fellow-ministers 
Are  like  invulnerable.     If  you  could  hurt, 
Vour  swords  are  now  too  massy  for  your  strengths 
And  will  not  be  uplifted.     But  remember,  — 
For  that 's  my  business  to  you,  —  that  you  three 
From  Milan  did  supplant  good  Prospero,  7« 

Expos'd  unto  the  sea,  which  hath  requit  it, 
Him  and  his  innocent  child  ;  for  which  foul  deed 
The  powers,  delaying,  not  forgetting,  have 
Incens'd  the  seas  and  shores,  yea,  all  the  creatures, 
Against  your  peace.  —  Thee  of  thy  son,  Alonso, 


Scene  HI]  The  Tenipest  85 

They  have  bereft,  and  do  pronounce  by  me. 

Lingering  perdiiion  --  worse  than  any  deaA 

Can  be  at  once  —  shall  step  by  ?tep  attend 

Vou  and  vour  wavs  ;  whose  wraths  to  gnard  von  front,  — 

Which  here,  in  this  most  desolate  isle,  else  falls       "    Sc 

Upon  your  heads,  —  is  nothing  bm  heart  s  sorro'sr 

And  a  clear  life  ensuing. 

He  Z'iZnSskes  in  thMfidcr;  thcn^  to  soft  musu,  enter  Ike 
Skates  again-^  anJ  dance  with  mocks  and  mows,  and 
carry  out  the  iahio 

Prospero  \AsidS\,  Bra\^y  Ae  figure  of  this  harpy  hast 
thou 
Performed,  my  Ariel ;  a  grace  it  had,  devouring. 
Of  ray  instruction  hast  thou  nothing  bated 
In  what  thou  hadst  to  say ;  so,  with  good  Me 
And  observation  strange,  my  n'>eaner  ministers 
Their  several  kifuis  have  done.     My  high  charojs  'wrfe. 
And  dsese  naine  enemies  are  all  knit  up 
In  their  distractions ;  they  now  are  in  my  po-spo",        90 
And  in  these  tits  I  leay^e  them  while  I  visit 
Young  Fetdinand  —  whom  they  suppose  is  drown'd  — 
And  his  and  mine  lov'd  darling.  ]Ex3t  ahme, 

GonsaJa,   V  the  nanie  of  something  holy,  sir,  why 
stand  you 
In  this  strange  stare  ? 

A!/ms:6.  O,  it  is  rt>anstroias,  moinstrosas  ! 

MethoTJ^t  the  billows  spoke  and  told  me  of  it ; 
The  wii>ds  did  sing  it  to  mo,  and  the  thunder. 


86  The  Tempest  [Act  m 

That  deep  and  dreadful  organ-pipe,  pronounc'd 
The  name  of  Prosper  ;  it  did  bass  my  trespass. 
Therefore  my  son  i'  the  ooze  is  bedded  ;  and  loo 

I  '11  seek  him  deeper  than  e'er  plummet  sounded 
And  with  him  there  lie  mudded.  [JSxt'r 

Sebastian.  But  one  fiend  at  a  time, 

I  '11  fight  their  legions  o'er. 

Antotiio.  I  '11  be  thy  second. 

\_Exeunt  Sebastian  and  Antonio. 

Gonzalo.   All  three  of  them  are  desperate  ;  their  great 
guilt, 
Like  poison  given  to  work  a  great  time  after, 
Now  gins  to  bite  the  spirits.  —  I  do  beseech  you 
That  are  of  suppler  joints,  follow  them  swiftly 
And  hinder  them  from  what  this  ecstasy 
May  now  provoke  them  to. 

Adrian.  Follow,  I  pray  you.     [Exeunt. 


ACT   IV 

Scene  I,     Before  Prosperous  Cell 

Enter  Prospero,  Ferdinand,  aitd  Miranda 

Prospero.    If  I  have  too  austerely  punish'd  you, 
Your  compensation  makes  amends,  for  I 
Have  given  you  here  a  thread  of  mine  own  Ufe, 
Or  that  for  which  I  Hve,  who  once  again 
I  tender  to  thy  hand.     All  thy  vexations 
Were  but  my  trials  of  thy  love,  and  thou 
Hast  strangely  stood  the  test ;  here,  afore  hea-en, 
I  ratify  this  my  rich  gift.     O  Ferdinand, 
Do  not  smile  at  me  that  I  boast  her  off, 
For  thou  shalt  find  she  will  outstrip  all  praise 
And  make  it  halt  behind  her. 

Ferdinand.  I  do  believe  it 

Against  an  oracle. 

87 


88  The  Tempest  [Act  iv 

Prospero.   Then,  as  my  gift  and  thine  own  acquisition 
Worthily  purchas'd,  take  my  daughter;  but 
If  thou  dost  break  her  virgin-knot  before 
All  sanctimonious  ceremonies  may 
With  full  and  holy  rite  be  minister'd, 
No  sweet  aspersion  shall  the  heavens  let  fall 
To  make  this  contract  ^row,  but  barren  hate, 
Sour-eyed  disdain,  and  discord  shall  bestrew  2a 

The  union  of  your  bed  with  weeds  so  loathly 
That  you  shall  hate  it  both.     Therefore,  take  heed, 
As  Hymen's  lamps  shall  light  you. 

Ferdinajid.  As  I  hope 

For  quiet  days,  fair  issue,  and- long  life, 
With  such  love  as  't  is  now,  the  murkiest  den. 
The  most  opportune  place,  the  strong'st  suggestion 
Our  worser  genius  can,  shall  never  melt 
Mine  honour  into  lust,  to  take  away 
The  edge  of  that  day's  celebration 
When  I  shall  think  or  Phoebus'  steeds  are  founder'd   3c 
Or  night  kept  chain'd  below. 

Frospero.  Fairly  spoke. 

Sit  then  and  talk  with  her;  she  is  thine  own. — 
What,  Ariel  1  my  industrious  servant,  Ariel  1 

Enter  Ariel 

Ariel.    What  would  my  potent  master?  here  I  am. 
Prospero.    Thou    and    thy   meaner  fellows   your   last 
service 


Scene  I]  The  Tempest  89 

Did  worthily  perform,  and  I  must  use  you 

In  such  another  trick.     Go  bring  the  rabble, 

O'er  whom  I  give  thee  power,  here  to  this  place. 

Incite  them  to  quick  motion,  for  I  must 

Bestow  upon  the  eyes  of  this  young  couple  4« 

Some  vanity  of  mine  art ;  it  is  mv  promise.      ^ 

And  they  expect  it  fmiD.  me. 

Ariel.  Presently  ? 

Prospero.    Ay,  with  a  tAvink. 

Ariel.      Before  you  can  say  '  come  '  and  '  go,' 
And  breathe  twice,  and  cry  '  so,  so,' 
Each  one,  tripping  on  his  toe, 
Will  be  here  with  mop  and  mow.  — 
Do  you  love  me,  master  ?  no  ? 

Prospero.  Dearly,  my   delicate   Ariel.      Do   not  ap- 
proach 
Till  thou  dost  hear  me  call. 

Ariel.  Well,  I  conceive.      \Exit. 

Prospero.  Look  thou  be  true  ;  do  not  give  dalliance  51 
Too  much  the  rein  ;  the  strongest  oaths  are  straw 
To  the  fire  i'  the  blood  ;  be  more  abstemious, 
Or  else  good  night  your  vow ! 

Ferdinand.  I  warrant  you,  sir ; 

The  white-cold  virgin  snow  upon  my  heart 
Abates  the  ardour  of  my  liver. 

Prospero.  Well.  — 

Now  come,  my  Ariel !  bring  a  corollary 
Rather  than  want  a  spirit ;  appear,  and  pertly  !  — 
No  tongue  I  all  eyes  !  be  silent.  {.Soft  music. 


^o  The  Tempest  ':Act  iv 


Enter  Iris 


60 


Iris.   Ceres,  most  bounteous  lady,  thy  rich  leas 
Of  wheat,  rye,  barley,  vetches,  oats,  and  pease; 
Thy  turfy  mountains,  where  live  nibbling  sheep. 
And  flat  meads  thatch'd  with  stover,  them  to  keep; 
Thy  banks  with  pioned  and  lilied  brims, 
Which  spongy  April  at  thy  liest  betrims, 

To  make  cold  nymphs  chaste  crowns  ;   and  thy  broom  groves, 
Whose  shadow  the  dismissed  bachelor  loves. 
Being  lass-lorn;   thy  pole-cHpt  vineyard  ; 
And  thy  sea-marge,  sterile  and  rocky-hard. 

Where  thou  thyself  dost  air  ;  —  the  queen  o'  the  sky,  70 

Whose  watery  arch  and  messenger  am  I, 
Bids  thee  leave  these,  and  with  her  sovereign  grace. 
Here  on  this  grass-plot,  in  this  very  place. 
To  come  and  sport.      Iler  peacocks  fly  amain ; 
Approach,  rich  Ceres,  her  to  entertain. 

Enter  Ceres 

Ceres.    Hail,  many-colour'd  messenger,  that  ne'er 
Dost  disobey  the  wife  of  Jupiter ! 
Who,  with  thy  saffron  wings,  upon  my  flowers 
Diffusest  honey-drops,  refreshing  showers, 

Anil  with  each  end  of  thy  blue  how  dost  crown  b> 

My  bosky  acres  and  my  unshrubb'fl  down. 
Rich  scarf  to  my  proud  earth  !     Why  hath  thy  queen 
Summon'd  me  hither  to  this  short-grass'd  green? 

Iris.    A  contract  of  true  love  to  celebrate, 
And  some  donation  freely  to  estate 
On  the  blest  lovers. 

Ceres.  'J'ell  nic,  heavenly  bow, 

If  Venus  or  her  son,  as  thou  dost  know. 


Scene  I]  The  Tempest  91 

Do  now  attend  the  queen?     Since  they  did  plot 

The  means  that  dusky  Dis  my  daughter  got, 

Her  and  her  blind  boy's  scandal'd  company  90 

I  have  forsworn. 

Iris.  Of  her  society 

Be  not  afraid  ;   I  met  her  deity 
Cutting  the  clouds  towards  Paphos,  and  her  son 
Dove-drawn  with  her.     Here  thought  they  to  have  done 
Some  wanton  charm  upon  this  man  and  maid, 
Whose  vows  are  that  no  bed-right  shall  be  paid 
Till  Hymen's  torch  be  lighted  ;   but  in  vain. 
Mars's  hot  minion  is  return'd  again  ; 
Her  waspish-headed  son  has  broke  his  arrows. 
Swears  he  will  shoot  no  more,  but  play  with  sparrows  100 

And  be  a  boy  right  out, 

Ceres.  Highest  queen  of  state, 

Great  Juno  comes  ;   I  know  her  by  her  gait. 

Enter  JUNO 

Juno.   How  does  my  bounteous  sister?     Go  with  me 
To  bless  this  twain,  that  they  may  prosperous  be 
And  honour'd  in  their  issue.  [  They  sing. 

Juno.  Honour,  riches,  marriage-blessijig. 

Long  contimiance,  and  increasing. 

Hourly  joys  be  still  upon  you ! 

Juno  sings  her  blessings  on  you. 
Ceres.  Eartli's  increase,  foison  plenty,  no 

Barns  and  garners  never  empty. 

Vines  with  clustering  bunches  growing. 

Plants  zuiih  goodly  burthen  bozuing; 

Spring  come  to  you  at  the  farthest 

In  the  very  end  of  harvest ! 

Scarcity  and  want  shall  shun  you  ; 

Ceres'  blessing  so  is  on  you. 


92  The  Tempest  [Act  iv 

Ferdinand.    This  is  a  most  majestic  vision,  and 
Harmonious  charmingly.     May  I  be  bold 
To  think  these  spirits  ? 

Prospcro.  Spirits,  which  by  mine  art      120 

I  have  from  their  confines  call'd  to  enact 
My  present  fancies. 

Ferdma7id.  1  et  me  Hve  here  ever  ; 

So  rare  a  wonder'd  father  and  a  wise 
Makes  this  place  Paradise. 

\Juno  and  Ceres  whisper,  and  send  Iris  on  employment. 

Prospero.  Sweet  now,  silence  ! 

Juno  and  Ceres  whisper  seriously  ; 
There  's  something  else  to  do.-    Hush,  and  be  mute, 
Or  else  our  spell  is  marr'd. 

Iris.   You  nymphs,  call'd  Naiads,  of  the  winding  brooks, 
With  your  sedg'd  crowns  and  ever  harmless  looks. 
Leave  your  crisp  channels  and  on  this  green  land  130 

Answer  your  summons  ;   Juno  does  command. 
Come,  temperate  nymphs,  and  help  to  celebrate 
A  contract  of  true  love  ;   be  not  too  late.  — 

Enter  certain  Nymphs 

You  sunburnt  sicklemen,  of  August  weary, 
Come  hither  from  the  furrow  and  be  merry. 
Make  holiday  ;   your  rye-straw  hats  put  on, 
And  these  fresh  nymphs  encounter  every  one 
In  country  footing. 


Scene  I]  The  Tempest  93 

Enter  certain  Reapers,  properly  habited :  they  join  with 
the  Nymphs  in  a  graceful  dance;  towards  the  end 
whereof  Prospero  starts  suddenly,  and  speaks ;  after 
which,  to  a  strange,  hollow,  and  confused  noise,  they 
heavily  vanish 

Prospero    [Aside].  I  had  forgot  that  foul  conspiracy 
Of  the  beast  CaUban  and  his  confederates  140 

Against  my  Hfe  ;  the  minute  of  their  plot 
Is  almost  come.  —  [To  the  Spirits']  Well  done  !    Avoid  ; 
no  more ! 
Ferdinand.    This  is  strange ;  your  father  's  in  some 
passion 
That  works  him  strongly. 

Miranda.  N-gygr  till  this  day 

Saw  I  him  touch 'd^with  anger  so  distemper'd.^ 
y^,^       Prosperoy^o<r^o'\(d<i\,  luy  sanTTrTa  mov'd  sort, 
y^^  As  if  you  were  dismay'd  ;  be  cheerful,  sir. 

Our  revels  now  are  ended.     These  our  actors, 
\f*^  As  I  foretold  you,  were  all  spirits,  and  V  p^^^'4"***''^^ 

*        Are  melted  into  air,  into  thin  air  ;  150    ^^j^j^^ 

And,  like  the  baseless  fabric  of  this  vision,  ^v*>>•>^\r^5 

The  cloud-capp'd  towers,  the  gorgeous  palace?,     -J"^  ^.^^a.-'"-*-^ 
The  solemn  temples,  the  great  globe  itself. 
Yea,  all  which  it  inherit,  shall  dissolve, 
And,  like  this  insubstantial  pageant  faded. 
Leave  not  a  rack  behind.     We  are  such  stuff 
As  dreams  are  made  on,  and  our  little  life 
Is  rounded  with  a  sleep, —  Sir,  I  am  vex'd ; 


94  Tlie  Tempest  [Act  iv 

Bear  with  my  weakness ;  my  old  brain  is  troubled. 

Be  not  disturb'd  with  my  infirmity.  160 

If  you  be  pleas 'd,  retire  into  my  cell 

And  there  repose ;  a  turn  or  two  I  '11  walk, 

To  still  my  beating  mind. 

Ferdinand.  Miranda.     We  wish  your  peace.  \Exeuni. 

Prospcro.    Come  with  a  thought.    I  thank  thee,  Ariel ; 
come  \ 

Enter  Ariel 

Ariel  Thy  thoughts  I  cleave  to.  What 's  thy  pleasure? 

Prospero.  Spirit, 

We  must  prepare  to  meet   with  Caliban. 

Ariel.    Ay;  my  commander ;  when  I  presented  Ceres 
I  thought  to  have  told  thee  of  it,  but  I  fear'd 
Lest  I  might  anger  thee. 

Prospcro.    Say  again,  where  didst  thou  leave  these 
varlets?  170 

Ariel.    I  told  you,  sir,  they  were  red-hot  with  drinking  •, 
So  full  of  valour  that  they  smote  the  air 
For  breathing  in  their  faces,  beat  the  ground 
For  kissing  of  their  feet,  yet  always  bending 
Towards  their  project.     Then  I  beat  my  tabor, 
At  which,  like  unback'd  colts,  they  prick VI  their  ears, 
Advanc'd  their  eyelids,  lifted  up  their  noses 
As  they  smelt  music ;  so  I  charm'd  their  ears 
That,  calf-like,  they  my  lowing  follow'd  through 
Tooth'd    briers,    sharp    furzes,    pricking    gorse,    and 
thorns,  180 


Scene  I]  The  Tempest  95 

Which  enter'd  their  frail  shins.     At  last  I  left  them 
F  the  filthy  mantled  pool  beyond  your  cell, 
There  dancing  up  to  the  chins,  that  the  foul  lake 
O'erstunk  their  feet. 

Frospav.  This  was  well  done,  my  bird. 

Thy  shape  invisible  retain  thou  still ; 
The  trumpery  in  my  house,  go  bring  it  hither 
For  stale  to  catch  these  thieves. 

Ariel.  I  go,  I  go.        \_Exit. 

Prospero.    A  devil,  a  born  devil,  on  whosejiatme 
Nurture  can  never  stick  ;  on  whom  my  pains. 
Humanely  taken,  all,  all  lost,  quite  lost ; 
And^a£with  acre  his  body  ug-lier  grows., 
Rnhj^jTiind  rnnkpr'^        \  will  plague  them  all^ 

Fv^en  to  roaring.  — 

Elder  Ariel,  loaden  with  glistering  apparel,  etc. 
Come,  hang  them  on  this  line. 

Prospero  and  Ariel  remain   invisible.     Enter   Call 
BAN,  STEPHAmV-^/^^  Trinculo,  all  wet 

Caliban.    Pray  you,  tread  softly,  that  the  blind  mole 
may  not 
Hear  a  foot  fall ;  we  now  are  near  his  cell. 

Stephana.  Monster,  your  fairy,  which  you  say  is 
a  harmless  fairy,  has  done  little  better  than  played 
the  Jack  with  us.  —  Do  you  hear,  monster?  If  I 
should  take  a  displeasure  against  you,  look  you,  — 

Trinculo.    Thou  wert  but  a  lost  monster.  200 


g6  The  Tempest  [Act  iv 

Caliban.   Good  my  lord,  give  me  thy  favour  still. 
Be  patient,  for  the  prize  I  '11  bring  thee  to 
Shall  hoodwink  this  mischance  ;  therefore  speak  softly. 
All  's  hush'd  as  midnight  yet. 

Trinciilo.    Ay,  but  to  lose  our  bottles  in  the  pool,  — 

Stephana.    There  is  not  only  disgrace  and  dishonour 
in  that,  monster,  but  an  infinite  loss. 

Trinculo.    That  's    more  to  me  than  my  wetting ; 
yet  this  is  your  harmless  fairy,  monster  ! 

Stephana.    I  will  fetch  off  my  bottle,  though  I  be 
o'er  ears  for  my  labour.  211 

Caliban.    Prithee,  my  king,  be  quiet.     Seest  thou  here, 
This  is  the  mouth  o'  the  cell  ;'  no  noise,  and  enter. 
Do  that  good  mischief  which  may  make  this  island 
Thine  own  for  ever,  and  I,  thy  Caliban, 
For  aye  thy  foot-licker. 

Stephana.    Give  me  thy  hand.     I  do  begin  to  have 
bloody  thoughts. 

Trincula.    O  King  Stephano  !     O  peer  !     O  worthy 
Stephano  !  look  what  a  wardrobe  here  is  for  thee  !      220 

Caliban.    Let  it  alone,  thou  fool  ;  it  is  but  trash. 

Trinculo.   O,  ho,  monster  !  we  know  what  belongs 
to  a  frippery.  —  O  King  Stephano  ! 

Stephana.    Put   off    that  gown,  Trinculo ;  by  this 
hand,  I  '11  have  that  gown. 

Trinculo.    Thy  grace  shall  have  it. 

Caliban.    Tne  dropsy  drown  this  fool !     What  do  you 
mean. 
To  dote  thus  on  such  luggage  ?     Let  's  along, 


Scene  I]  The  Tempest  97 

And  do  the  murther  first ;  if  he  awake, 

From  toe  to  crown  he  '11  fill  our  skins  with  pinches,   230 

Make  us  strange  stuff. 

Stephana.  Be  you  quiet,  monster.  —  Mistress  line, 
is  not  this  my  jerkin  ?  Now  is  the  jerkin  under  the 
line ;  now,  jerkin,  you  are  like  to  lose  your  hair  and 
prove  a  bald  jerkin. 

Trificulo.  Do,  do  ;  we  steal  by  line  and  level,  an  't 
like  your  grace. 

Stephana.    I  thank  thee  for  that  jest ;  here  's  a  gar- 
ment for  't.     Wit  shall  not  go  unrewarded  while  I 
am  king  of  this  country.     '  Steal  by  line  and  level '  240 
is  an  excellent  pass  of  pate ;  there  's  another  gar- 
ment for  't. 

Trinculo.  Monster,  come,  put  some  lime  upon  your 
fingers,  and  away  with  the  rest. 

Caliban.    I  will  have  none  on  't ;  we  shall  lose  o\xt 
time. 
And  all  be  turn'd  to  barnacles  or  to  apes 
With  foreheads  villanous  low. 

Stephana.  Monster,  lay  to  your  fingers  ;  help  to 
bear  this  away  where  my  hogshead  of  wine  is,  or  I  '11 
turn  you  out  of  my  kingdom  ;  go  to,  carry  this.  250 

Trincula.    And  this. 

Stephana.    Ay,  and  this. 

A  noise  of  hunters  heard.  Enter  divers  Spirits,  in  shape 
of  dogs  and  hounds,  and  hunt  them  about,  Prospero 
and  Ariel  setting  them  o?i 

THE    TEMPEST —  7 


98  The  Tempest  [Act  IV 

Prospero.    Hey,  Mountain,  hey ! 

Ariel.    Silver  !  there  it  goes,  Silver  1 

Prospero.    Fury,  Fury !    there.  Tyrant,    there !  hark, 
hark !  — 
\CaIihan,  Stephana,  and  Trine nlo  are  driven  out. 
Go  charge  my  goblins  that  they  grind  their  joints 
With  dry  convulsions,  shorten  up  their  sinews 
With  aged  cramps,  and  more  pinch-spotted  make  them 
Than  pard  or  cat  o'  mountain. 

Ariel.  Hark,  they  roar  ! 

Prospero.    Let  them  be  hunted  soundly.     At  this  hour 
Lies  at  my  mercy  all  mine  enemies ;  261 

Shortly  shall  all  my  labours  end,  and  thou 
Shalt  have  the  air  at  freedom.     For  a  little 
Follow  -and  do  me  service.  \Exeimt 


m^ 


--^  .\' 


ACT  V 

Scene  I.     Before  f he  Cell  of  Prospero 

Enter  Prospero  in  his  jnagic  robes ^  and  Ariel 

Prospero.    Now  does  my  project  gather  to  a  head ; 
My  charms  crack  not,  my  spirits  obey,  and  Time 
Goes  upright  with  his  carriage.     How  's  the  day  ? 

Ariel.    On  the  sixth  hour  ;  at  which  time,  my  lord. 
Vou  said  our  work  should  cease. 

Prospero.  I  did  say  so 

99 


lOO  The  Tempest  [Act  V 

When  first  I  rais'd  the  tempest.     Say,  my  spirit, 
How  fares  the  king  and  's  followers  ? 

Ariel.  Confin'd  together 

In  the  same  fashion  as  you  gave  in  charge, 
Just  as  you  left  them ;  all  prisoners,  sir. 
In  the  line-grove  which  weather-fends  your  cell.  lo 

They  cannot  budge  tili  your  release.     The  king. 
His  brother,  and  yours,  abide  all  three  distracted, 
And  the  remainder  mourning  over  them, 
Brimful  of  sorrow  and  dismay ;  but  chiefly 
Him  that  you  term'd,  sir,  the  good  old  lord,  Gonzalo. 
His  tears  run  down  his  beard,  like  winter's  drops 
From  eaves  of  reeds.     Your  charm  so  strongly  works  'em 
That  if  you  now  beheld  them  your  affections 
Would  become  tender. 

Prospero.  Dost  thou  think  so,  spirit  ? 

Ariel.    Mine  would,  sir,  were  I  human. 

Prospero.  And  mine  shall. 

Hast  thou,  which  art  but  air,  a  touch,  a  feeling  21 

Of  their  afflictions,  and  shall  not  myself. 
One  of  their  kind,  that  relish  all  as  sharply 
Passion  as  they,  be  kindlier  mov'd  than  thou  art? 
Though  with   their   high  wrongs   I    am   struck  to  the 

quick, 
Yet  with  my  nobler  reason  'gainst  my  fury 
Do  I  take  part.     The  rarer  action  is 
In  virtue  than  in  vengeance  ;  they  being  penitent, 
The  sole  drift  of  my  purpose  doth  extend 
Not  a  frown  further.     Go  release  them,  Ariel ;  30 


Scene  I]  The  Tempest  loi 

My  charms  I  '11  break,  their  senses  I  '11  restore, 
And  they  shall  be  themselves. 

Ariel.  I  '11  fetch  them,  sir.     \_Exit. 

Prospero.    Ye  elves  of  hills,  brooks,  standing  lakes, 
and  groves, 
And  ye  that  on  the  sands  with  printless  foot 
Do  chase  the  ebbing  Neptune,  and  do  fly  him 
When  he  comes  back  ;  you  demi-puppets  that 
By  moonshine  do  the  green  sour  ringlets  make 
Whereof  the  ewe  not  bites ;  and  you  whose  pastime 
Is  to  make  midnight  mushrooms,  that  rejoice 
To  hear  the  solemn  curfew,  by  whose  aid  —  40 

Weak  masters  though  ye  be  —  I  have  bedimm'd 
The  noontide  sun,  call'd  forth  the  mutinous  winds, 
And  'twixt  the  green  sea  and  the  azur'd  vault 
Set  roaring  war ;  to  the  dread  rattling  thunder 
Have  I  given  fire,  and  rifted  Jove's  stout  oak 
With  his  own  bolt ;  the  strong-bas'd  promontory 
Have  I  made  shake,  and  by  the  spurs  pluck'd  up 
The  pine  and  cedar  ;  graves  at  my  command 
Have  wak'd  their  sleepers,  op'd,  and  let  'em  forth 
By  my  so  potent  art.     But  this  rough  magic  50 

I  here  abjure  ;  and,  when  I  have  requir'd 
Some  heavenly  music  —  which  even  now  I  do  — 
To  work  mine  end  upon  their  senses  that 
This  airy  charm  is  for,  I  '11  break  my  staff, 
Bury  it  certain  fathoms  in  the  earth. 
And  deeper  than  did  ever  plummet  sound 
I  '11  drown  my  book.  —  \_Solem7i  music. 


I02  The  Tempest  [Act  V 

Here  enter  Ariel  before :  then  Alonso,  ivith  a  frantic 
gesture,  attended  by  Gonzalo  ;  Sebastian  and  An- 
tonio ///  like  manner,  attended  by  Adrian  and 
Francisco  :  they  all  enter  the  circle  ndiich  Prosper© 
had  fnade,  and  there  stand  charmed;  which  Prosperc 
observing,  speaks 

A  solemn  air,  and  the  best  comforter 

To  an  unsettled  fancy,  cure  thy  brains, 

Now  useless,  boil'd  within  thy  skull !     There  stand,    oo 

For  you  are  spell-stopp'd.  — 

Holy  Gonzalo,  honourable  man. 

Mine  eyes,  even  sociable  to  the  show  of  thine. 

Fall  fellowly  drops.  —  The  charm  dissolves  apace  ; 

And  as  the  morning  steals  upon  the  night. 

Melting  the  darkness,  so  their  rising  senses 

Begin  to  chase  the  ignorant  fumes  that  mantle 

Their  clearer  reason.  —  O  good  Gonzalo, 

My  true  preserver,  and  a  loyal  sir 

To  him  thou  follow'st !     I  will  pay  thy  graces  70 

Home  both  in  word  and  deed.  —  Most  cruelly 

Didst  thou,  Alonso,  use  me  and  my  daughter ; 

Thy  brother  was  a  furtherer  in  the  act.  — 

Thou  art  pinch'd  for  't   now,  Sebastian.  —  Flesh  and 

blood. 
You,  brother  mine,  that  entertain 'd  ambition, 
Expell'd  remorse  and  nature;  who,  with  Sebastian, — 
Whose  inward  pinches  therefore  are  most  strong, — 
Would  here  have  kill'd  your  king;   I  do  forgive  thee. 


Scene  I]  The  Tempest  103 

Unnatural  though  thou  art.  —  Their  understanding 

Begins  to  swell,  and  the  approaching  tide  8a 

Will  shortly  fill  the  reasonable  shore 

That  now  lies  foul  and  muddy.     Not  one  of  them 

That  yet  looks  on  me  or  would  know  me.  —  Ariel, 

Fetch  me  the  hat  and  rapier  in  my  cell ; 

I  will  disease  me,  and  myself  present 

A.S  I  was  sometime  Milan.     Quickly,  spirit; 

Thou  shait  ere  long  be  free. 

Ariel  si/igs,  and  helps  to  attire  him. 

Where  the  hcc  sucks,  there  suck  I ; 

In  a  coivslip^s  bell  I  lie; 

There  I  couch  when  otvls  do  cry,  90 

On  the  bat's  back  I  do  fly 

After  summer  merrily. 
Merrily,  merrily,  shall  I  live  noza 
Under  the  blossom  that  hangs  on  the  bough. 

Prospero.    Why,  that  's    my  dainty   Ariel  1     I   shall 
miss   thee, 
But  yet  thou  shalt  have  freedom  ;  —  so,  so,  so.  — 
To  the  king's  ship,  invisible  as  thou  art. 
There  shalt  thou  find  the  mariners  asleep 
Under  the  hatches  ;  the  master  and  the  boatswain 
Being  awake,  enforce  them  to  this  place,  100 

And  presently,  I  prithee. 

Ariel.    I  drink  the  air  before  me,  and  return 
Or  ere  your  pulse  twice  beat.  S^Exit. 

Gonzalo.  All  torment,  trouble,  wonder,  and  amazement 


I04  The  Tempest  [Act  v 

Inhabits  here  ;  some  heavenly  power  guide  us 
Out  of  this  fearful  country  1 

Frospero.  Behold,  sir  king, 

The  wronged  Duke  of  Milan,  Prospero ! 
For  more  assurance  that  a  living  prince 
Does  now  speak  to  thee,  I  embrace  thy  body ; 
And  to  thee  and  thy  company  I  bid  lu 

A  hearty  welcome. 

Alonso.  Whether  thou  beest  he  or  no, 

Or  some  enchanted  trifle  to  abuse  me. 
As  late  I  have  been,  I  not  know ;  thy  pulse 
Beats,  as  of  flesh  and  blood,  and  since  I  saw  thee 
The  affliction  of  my  mind  amends,  with  which, 
I  fear,  a  madness  held  me.     This  must  crave  — 
An  if  this  be  at  all  —  a  most  strange  story. 
Thy  dukedom  I  resign,  and  do  entreat 
Thou  pardon  me  my  wrongs.  —  But  how  should  Pros- 
pero 
Be  living  and  be  here  ? 

Prospero.  First,  noble  friend,  120 

Let  me  embrace  thine  age,  whose  honour  cannot 
Be  measur'd  or  confin'd. 

Gonzalo.  Whether  this  be 

Or  be  not,  I  '11  not  swear. 

Prospero.  You  do  yet  taste 

Some  subtleties  o'  the  isle  that  will  not  let  you 
Believe  things  certain.  —  Welcome,  my  friends  all !  — 
{^Aside  to  Sebastian  and  Antonio']    But  you,  my  brace  of 
lords,  were  I  so  minded, 


Scene  I]  The  Tempest  105 

I  here  could  pluck  his  highness'  frown  upon  you, 
And  justify  you  traitors  ;  at  this  time 
I  '11  tell  no  tales. 

Sebastian  [Aside].    The  devil  speaks  in  him. 

Prospero.  No.  — 

For  you,  most  wicked  sir,  whom  to  call  brother  130 

Would  even  infect  my  mouth,  I  do  forgive 
Thy  rankest  fault,  —  all  of  them  ;  and  require 
My  dukedom  of  thee,  which  perforce  I  know 
Thou  must  restore. 

Alonso.  If  thou  beest  Prospero, 

Give  us  particulars  of  thy  preservation  ; 
How  thou  hast  met  us  here  whom  three  hours  since 
Were  wrack'd  upon  this  shore,  where  I  have  lost  — 
How  sharp  the  point  of  this  remembrance  is  1  — 
My  dear  son  Ferdinand. 

Prospero.  I  am  woe  for  't,  sir. 

Alonso.    Irreparable  is  the  loss,  and  patience  140 

Says  it  is  past  her  cure. 

Prospero.  I  rather  think 

You  have  not  sought  her  help,  of  whose  soft  grace 
For  the  like  loss  I  have  her  sovereign  aid 
And  rest  myself  content. 

Alonso.  You  the  like  loss  ? 

Prospero.    As  great  to  me  as  late  ;  and  supportable 
To  make  the  dear  loss  have  I  means  much  weaker 
Than  you  may  call  to  comfort  you,  for  I 
Have  lost  my  daughter. 

Alonso.  A  daughter  ? 


io6  The  Tempest  [Act  v 

0  heavens,  that  they  were  living  both  in  Naples, 

The  king  and  queen  there  !  that  they  were,  I  wish     150 
Myself  were  mudded  in  that  oozy  bed 
Where  my  son  lies.     When  did  you  lose  your  daughter? 
Prospero.    In  this  last  tempest.    I  perceive,  these  lords 
At  this  encounter  do  so  much  admire        «*^ »  •  -*-* — . 
That  they  devour  their  reason,  and  scarce  think 
Their  eyes  do  ofifices  of  truth,  their  words 
Are  natural  breath  ;  but,  hcwsoe'er  you  have 
Been  justled  from  your  senses,  know  for  certain 
That  I  am  Prospero,  and  that  very  duke 
Which  was  thrust  forth  of  Milan,  who  most  strangely  160 
Upon  this  shore,  where  you  were  wrack'd,  was  landed, 
To  be  the  lord  on  't.     No  more  yet  of  this  ; 
For  't  is  a  chronicle  of  day  by  day. 
Not  a  relation  for  a  breakfast,  nor 
Befitting  this  first  meeting.     Welcome,  sir  ; 
This  cell  's  my  court.     Here  have  I  few  attendants, 
And  subjects  none  abroad  ;  pray  you,  look  in. 
My  dukedom  since  you  have  given  me  again, 

1  will  requite  you  with  as  good  a  thing ; 

At  least  bring  forth  a  wonder,  to  content  ye  170 

As  much  as  me  my  dukedom. 

Here    Prospero   discovers    Ferdinand   and  Miranda 
playing  at  chess 

Miranda.    Sweet  lord,  you  play  me  false. 
Ferdinand.  No,  my  dear'st  love 

\  would  not  for  the  world. 


Scene  I]  The   Tempest  107 

Miranda.    Yes,  for  a  score  of  kingdoms  you  should 
wrangle, 
And  I  would  call  it  fair  play. 

Alouso.  If  this  prove 

A  vision  of  the  island,  one  dear  son 
Shall  I  twice  lose. 

Sebastian.  A  most  high  miracle  ! 

Ferdinand.    Though    the    seas    threaten,    they    are 
merciful ; 
I  have  curs'd  them  without  cause.  \Kneeh. 

Alonso.  Now  all  the  blessings 

Of  a  glad  father  compass  thee  about !  iSo 

Arise,  and  say  how  thou  cam'st  here. 

Miranda.  O,  wonder ! 

How  many  goodly  creatures  are  there  here  ! 
How  beauteous  mankind  is !     O  brave  new  world, 
That  has  such  people  in  't ! 

Prospero.  'T  is  new  to  thee. 

Alonso.    What  is  this  maid  with  whom  thou  wast  at 
play? 
Your  eld'st  acquaintance  cannot  be  three  hours  ; 
Is  she  the  goddess  that  hath  sever'd  us. 
And  brought  us  thus  together  ? 

Ferdinand.  Sir,  she  is  mortal, 

But  by  immortal  Providence  she  's  mine ; 
I  chose  her  when  I  could  not  ask  my  father  190 

For  his  advice,  nor  thought  I  had  one.     She 
Is  daughter  to  this  famous  Duke  of  Milan, 
Of  whom  so  often  I  have  heard  renown. 


io8  The  Tempest  LAct  V 

But  never  saw  before  ;  of  whom  I  have 
Receiv'd  a  second  life,  and  second  father 
This  lady  makes  him  to  me. 

Alonso.  I  am  hers. 

But,  O,  how  oddly  will  it  sound  that  I 
Must  ask  my  child  forgiveness  ! 

Prospero.  There,  sir,  stop  ; 

Let  us  not  burthen  our  remembrances 
With  a  heaviness  that 's  gone. 

Gonzalo.  I  have  inly  wept,       200 

Or  should  have  spoke  ere  this.  —  Look  down,  you  gods, 
And  on  this  couple  drop  a  blessed  crown  ! 
For  it  is  you  that  have  chalk'd  forth  the  way 
Which  brought  us  hither. 

Alonso.  I  say  Amen,  Gonzalo  1 

Gonzalo.   Was  Milan  thrust  from  Milan  that  his  issue 
Should  become  kings  of  Naples  ?     O,  rejoice 
Beyond  a  common  joy  !   and  set  it  down 
With  gold  on  lasting  pillars :  In  one  voyage 
Did  Claribel  her  husband  find  at  Tunis ; 
And  Ferdinand  her  brother  found  a  wife  210 

Where  he  himself  was  lost ;  Prospero  his  dukedom 
In  a  poor  isle ;  and  all  of  us  ourselves 
When  no  man  was  his  own. 

Alonso.    [  To  Ferdinand  and  Miranda"]  Give  me  your 
hands ; 
Let  grief  and  so'-row  still  embrace  his  heart 
That  doth  not  wish  you  joy  1 

Gonzalo.  Be  it  so  !     Amen  1  — 


Scene  I]  The  Tempest  109 

Enter  Ariel,  with  the  Master  and  Boatswain  amazedly 
folloiving 

O,  look,  sir  !  look,  sir  !  here  is  more  of  us  ! 

I  prophesied,  if  a  gallows  were  on  land, 

This  fellow  could  not  drown.  —  Now,  blasphemy, 

That  swear'st  grace  o'erboard,  not  an  oath  on  shore  ? 

Hast  thou  no  mouth  by  land  ?     What  is  the  news  ?     220 

Boats7vain.    The  best  news  is  that  we    have  safely 
found 
Our  king  and  company  ;  the  next,  our  ship  — 
Which,  but  three  glasses  since,  we  gave  out  split  — 
Is  tight,  and  yare,  and  bravely  rigg'd  as  when 
We  first  put  out  to  sea. 

Ariel  [Aside  to  Frosperd].    Sir,  all  this  service 
Have  I  done  since  I  went. 

Prospero  [Aside  to  Ariel\    My  tricksy  spirit ! 

Alonso.  These  are  not  natural  events  ;  they  strengthen 
From  strange  to  stranger.  —  Say,  how  came  you  hither  ? 

Boatswain.    If  I  did  think,  sir,  I  were  well  awake, 
I  'd  strive  to  tell  you.     We  were  dead  of  sleep,  230 

And  —  how  we  know  not  —  all  clapp'd  underhatches  ; 
Where,    but    even    now,    with    strange    and    several 

noises 
Of  roaring,  shrieking,  howling,  jingling  chains, 
And  moe  diversity  of  sounds,  all  horrible. 
We  were  awak'd  ;  straightway,  at  Uberty, 
Where  we,  in  all  her  trim,  freshly  beheld 
Our  royal,  good,  and  gallant  ship,  our  master 


iio  The  Tempest  [Act  v 

Capering  to  eye  her.     On  a  trice,  so  please  you, 
Even  in  a  dream,  were  we  divided  from  them 
iVnd  were  brought  moping  hither. 

Ariel  \_Asidc  to  Prospcni\.         Was  't  well  done  ?     240 

Prospero   \Aside   to   Aricl\    Bravely,    my    diligence. 
Thou  shalt  be  free. 

Alonso.    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. 

Prospero.  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  '11  resolve  you. 
Which  to  you  shall  seem  probable,  of  every 
These  happen'd  accidents  ;  till  when,  be  cheerful       250 
And  think  of  each  thing  well.  —  \Aside  to  ArieH  Come 

hither,  spirit. 
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. 

Enter  Ariel,  driving  in  Caliban,  Stephano,  and 
Trinculo,  in  their  stolen  apparel 

Stephano.  Every  man  shift  for  all  the  rest,  and 
let  no  man  take  care  for  himself,  for  all  is  but 
fortune.  —  Coragio,  bully  monster,  coragio  ! 


Scene  I]  The   Tempest  III 

Trinculo.    If  these  be  true  spies  which  I  wear  in  my 
head,  here  's  a  goodly  sight.  260 

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

Sebastian.  Ha,  ha ! 

What  things  are  these,  my  lord  Antonio  ? 
Will  money  buy  'em  ? 

Antonio.  Very  like  ;  one  of  them 

Is  a  plain  fish,  and  no  doubt  marketable. 

Prospero.    Mark  but  the  badges  of   these   men,  my 
lords, 
Then  say  if  they  be  true.  —  This  misshapen  knave. 
His  mother  was  a  witch  ;  and  one  so  strong 
That  could  control  the  moon,  make  flows  and  ebbs,    270 
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. 

Caliban.  I  shall  be  pinch'd  to  death. 

Alonso.    Is  not  this  Stephano,  my  drunken  butler^ 

Sebastian.    He  is  drunk  now  ;  where  had  he  wme  ? 

Alonso.    And  Trinculo  is  reeling-ripe  ;  where  should 
they 
Find  this  grand  liquor  that  hath  gilded  'em  ?  —  280 

How  cam'st  thou  in  this  pickle  ? 

Trinailo.  I  have  been  in  such  a  pickle  since  I  saw 


112  The  Tempest  [Act  v 

you  last  that,  I  fear  me,  will  never  out  of  my  bones ; 
I  shall  not  fear  fly-blowing. 

Sebastian.    Why,  how  now,  Stephano  ! 

Stephana.    O,  touch  me  not ;  I  am  not  Stephano, 
but  a  cramp. 

Prospero.    You  'd  be  king  o'  the  isle,  sirrah  ? 

Stephano.    I  should  have  been  a  sore  one,  then. 

Alonso.  This  is  a  strange  thing  as  e'er  I  look'd  on.  290 

\_Pointing  to  Caliban. 

Prospero.    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. 

Caliban.    Ay,  that  I  will ;  and  I  '11  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  1 

Prospero.  Go  to  ;  away  I 

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

Sebastian.    Or  stole  it,  rather.  300 

[^Exeunt  Caliban,  Stephano,  and  Trinculo. 

Prospero.    Sir,  I  invite  your  highness  and  your  train 
To  my  poor  cell,  where  you  shall  take  your  rest 
For  this  one  night,  which,  part  of  it,  I  '11  waste 
With  such  discourse  as,  I  not  doubt,  shall  make  it 
Go  quick  away,  —  the  story  of  my  life, 
And  the  particular  accidents  gone  by 
Since  I  came  to  this  isle;  and  in  the  morn 


Scene  I]  The  Tempest  113 

I  '11  bring  you  to  your  ship,  and  so  to  Naples, 
Where  I  have  hope  to  see  the  nuptial 
Of  these  our  dear-belov'd  solemnized,  310 

And  thence  retire  me  to  my  Milan,  where 
"Every  third  thought  shall  be  my  grave. 
""^^Jonso.  I  long 

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

Prospero.  I  '11  deliver  all, 

And  promise  you  calm  seas,  auspicious  gales, 
And  sail  so  expeditious  that  shall  catch 
Your  royal  fleet  far  off.  —  {Aside  to  Ariel']  My  Ariel^ 

chick, 
That  is  thy  charge  ;  then  to  the  elements 
Be  free,  and  fare  thou  well !  —  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,  't  is  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 

THE   TEMPEST  —  8 


114  '^^^   Tempest 

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  C 

Unless  I  be  leliev'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. 


NOTES 


The  references  to  "  Phila,  ed."  in  the  Notes  are  to  Notes  oj 
Studies  on  The  Tempest:  J^fitiutes  of  the  Shakspere  Society  of  Phila- 
delphia for  1S64-6J,  uf  which  sixty  copies  were  privately  printed 
for  the  society  in  1866  (quarto,  70  pp.)-  I  am  indebted  for  a  copy 
to  the  kindness  of  Dr.  Furness,  who  was  at  that  time  the  secretary 
of  the  Society. 

The  references  to  "Luce"  are  to  the  recent  (1901)  edition  of 
the  play  prepared  by  Mr.  Morton  Luce  for  the  edition  of  Shake- 
speare now  in  course  of  publication  under  the  general  editorship 
of  Professor  Dowden. 

Mr.  Luce  believes  that  Shakespeare  was  more  indebted  to 
Strachey  (see  note  on  i.  2.  333  below)  than  to  Jourdan  (see  p.  10 
above)  for  his  knowledge  of  the  Bermudas.  Strachey's  Letter  or 
Repertory,  describing  the  shipwreck  of  Somers  and  Gates,  was 
written  in  July,  1610,  but  the  earliest  known  appearance  of  it  iit 
print  is  in  Purchas  his  Pilgriines,  1625.  It  may  have,  been  pub- 
lished earlier,  or  Shakespeare  may  have  seen  it  in  MS.  P"or  extracts 
from  Strachey,  see  Furness,  who  gives  (pp.  313-315)  all  the  pas- 
sages which  seem  to  him  to  contain  allusions  which  "  can  be  paral- 
leled in  The  Tempest."  Mr.  Luce  thinks  that  the  "  sea-owles " 
mentioned  by  Strachey  are  the  perplexing  "  scamels  "  of  the  play 
(ii.  2.  172);   but  this  seems  to  me  very  improbable. 


116 


Bermoothes 


NOTES 


Introduction 


The  Metre  of  the  Play.  —  It  should  be  understood  at  the 
outset  that  metre,  or  the  mechanism  of  verse,  is  something  alto- 
gether distinct  from  the  tnusic  of  verse.  The  one  is  matter  of  rule, 
the  other  of  taste  and  feeling.  Music  is  not  an  absolute  necessity 
of  verse;  the  metrical  form  is  a  necessity,  being  that  which  consti- 
tutes the  verse. 

The  plays  of  Shakespeare  (with  the  exception  of  hymed  pas- 
sages, and  of  occasional  songs  and  interludes)  are  all  in  unrhymed 
or  blatik  verse  ;  and  the  normal  form  of  this  blank  verse  is  illus- 
trated by  lines  lo  and  ii  of  the  second  scene  of  this  play:  — 

"  Had  I  been  any  god  of  power,  I  would 
Have  sunk  the  sea  within  the  earth  or  ere." 

These  lines,  it  will  be  seen,  consist  of  ten  syllables  each,  with  the 
even  syllables  (2d,  4th,  6th,  8th,  and  loth)  accented,  the  odd  sylla 

H7 


1 1 8  Notes 

bles  (ist,  3d,  etc.)  being  unaccented.  Theoretically,  each  line  is 
made  up  of  five  feet  of  two  syllables  each,  with  the  accent  on  the 
second  syllable.  Such  a  foot  is  called  an  iambus  (plural,  iantlmses, 
or  the  Latin  iamln),  and  the  form  of  verse  is  called  iaiiibir. 

This  fundamental  law  of  Shakespeare's  verse  is  subject  to  certain 
modifications,  the  most  important  of  which  are  as  follows :  — 

1.  After  the  tenth  syllable  an  unaccented  syllable  (or  even  two 
sucii  syllables)  may  be  added,  f(jrming  what  is  sometimes  called  a 
female  line  ;  as  in  the  ninth  line  of  the  second  scene :  "  Against 
my  very  heart !  Poor  souls,  they  perish'd !  "  The  rhythm  is  com- 
plete with  the  first  syllable  of  perished,  the  second  being  an  extra 
eleventh  syllable.  Other  examples  (frequent  in  this  play)  are  lines 
2,  6,  7,  13,  18,  19,  etc.,  in  the  same  scene.  In  line  66,  we  have  two 
extra  syllables,  the  rhythm  being  complete  with  the  second  syllable 
of  Antonio. 

2.  The  accent  in  any  part  of  the  verse  may  be  shifted  from  an 
even  to  an  odd  syllable  ;  as  in  line  2 :  "  Put  the  wild  waters  in  this 
••oar,  allay  them";  where  the  accent  is  shifted  from  the  second  to 
the  first  syllable.  So  also  in  lines  5,  47,  50,  and  many  others.  This 
change  occurs  very  rarely  in  the  tenth  syllable,  and  seldom  in  the 
fourth  ;   and  it  is  very  rare  in  two  successive  accented  syllables. 

3.  An  extra  unaccented  syllable  may  occur  in  any  part  of  the 
line  ;  as  in  lines  14,  20,  and  T,'i.  In  14  the  second  syllable  of  piteous 
is  superfluous  ;  in  20  the  second  syllable  of  Prospero ;  and  in  38 
the  last  syllable  of  attentive. 

4.  Any  unaccented  syllable,  occurring  in  an  even  place  immedi- 
ately before  or  after  an  even  syllable  which  is  properly  accented,  is 
reckoned  as  accented  for  the  purposes  of  the  verse  ;  as,  for  instance, 
in  lines  18  and  35.  In  18  the  last  syllable  of  ignorant  is  metrically 
equivalent  to  an  accented  syllable  ;  and  so  with  the  first  syllable 
of  inquisition  in  35,  which  is  alio  a  female  line.  Other  examples 
are  the  last  syllable  of  dignity  in  73,  of  government  in  75,  of 
heedfully  in  78,  and  the  lirst  of  overtopping  in  81.  In  ii.  i.  271, 
unnecessarily  has  three  metrical  accents. 


Notes  1 1 9 


5.  In  many  instances  in  Shakespeare  words  must  be  lengthened 
in  order  to  fill  out  the  rhythm  :  — 

(a)  In  a  large  class  of  words  in  which  e  or  /  is  followed  by 
another  vowel,  the  e  or  i  is  made  a  separate  syllable  ;  as  ocean, 
opinion,  soldier,  patience,  partial,  marriage,  etc.  For  instance, 
in  this  play  (v.  i.  309)  the  line,  "  Where  I  have  hope  to  see  the 
nuptial,"  appears  to  have  only  nine  syllables,  but  nuptial  is  a 
trisyllable.  This  lengthening  occurs  most  frequently  at  the  end 
of  the  line,  and  is  rare  in  the  latest  plays.  For  the  only  other 
instances  in  this  play,  see  notes  on  iii.  i.  25  and  iv.  i.  143. 

((^)  Many  monosyllal)les  ending  in  r,  re,  rs,  res,  preceded  by  a 
long  vowel  or  diphthong,  are  often  made  dissyllables;  z.?,  fare,  fear, 
dear,  Jire,  hair,  hour,  your,  etc.  In  the  fifth  line  of  the  second 
sceney?^^  is  a  dissyllable.  If  the  word  is  repeated  in  a  verse,  it  is 
often  both  monosyllable  and  dissyllable  ;  as  in  line  53  of  the  same 
scene:  "Twelve  year  since,  Miranda,  twelve  year  since";  where 
the  first  year  is  a  dissyllable.  In  /.  C.  iii.  i.  172:  "As  fire  drives 
out  fire,  so  pity,  pity,"  the  first  yfr.?  is  a  dissyllable. 

(<:)  Words  containing  /  or  r,  preceded  by  another  consonant,  are 
often  pronounced  as  if  a  vowel  came  between  the  consonants ;  as 
in  T.  of  S.  ii.  i.  158:  "  While  she  did  call  me  rascal  fiddler  "  [fid- 
d(e)ler];  AlPs  IVell,  iii.  5.  43:  "  If  you  will  tarry,  holy  pilgrim" 
[pilg(e)rim] ;  C.  of  E.  v.  I.  360:  "These  are  the  parents  of  these 
children"  (childeren,  the  original  form  of  the  word);  IV.  T.  iv. 
4.  76:  "Grace  and  remembrance  [rememb(e)rance]  be  to  you 
both !  "  etc. 

{d)  Monosyllabic  exclamations  {ay,  O,  yea,  nay,  /i.^il,  etc.)  and 
monosyllables  otherwise  emphasized  are  similarly  lengthened ;  also 
certain  longer  words  ;  as  vineyard  (trisyllable)  in  this  play  (iv.  i. 
68);  safety  (trisyllable)  in  i%w.  i.  3.  21;  /;k«««^  (trisyllable,  as 
originally  pronounced)  in  y.  C.  iv.  I.  22:  "To  groan  and  sweat 
under  the  business  "  (so  in  several  other  passages) ;  and  other 
words  mentioned  in  the  notes  to  the  plays  in  which  they  occur. 

6.  Words  are  also  contracted  for  metrical  reasons,  like  plurals 


1 20  Notes 

and  possessives  ending  in  a  sibilant,  as  balance,  horse  (for  horse% 
a.ni.  horses), princess  (plural  in  l.  2.  173  of  this  play),  sense,  mar- 
riage (plural  and  possessive),  image,  etc.  So  spirit  (see  on  ii.  I. 
209),  inter' gatories,  clearest  (v.  i.  172),  eld'st  (v.  I.  186),  and  many 
other  superlatives,  etc. 

7.  The  accent  of  words  is  also  varied  in  many  instances  for  met- 
rical reasons.  Thus  we  )ipd  both  revenue  and  revenue  (see  on  i.  2. 
98  of  this  play),  sSlemnize  and  solemnize  (see  on  v.  1.  310),  dbscure 
and  obscure,  pursue  and  pursue,  distinct  and  distinct,  etc. 

These  instances  of  variable  accent  must  not  be  confounded  with 
those  in  which  words  were  uniformly  accented  differently  in  the 
time  of  Shakespeare  ;  like  aspect,  imp6rtune  (see  on  ii.  i.  136),  op- 
pdrtune  (see  on  iv.  i.  26),  per  sever  (never  persevere),  perseverance, 
rheumatic,  etc. 

8.  Alexandrines,  or  verses  of  twelve  syllables,  with  six  accents, 
occur  here  and  there;  as  in  the  inscriptions  on  the  caskets  in  the 
M.  of  v.,  and  ii.  I.  243  ("Professes  to  persuade,  —  the  king  his 
son's  alive  "  )  and  a  few  other  instances  in  this  play.  They  must 
not  be  confounded  with  female  lines  with  two  extra  syllables  (see 
on  I  above)  or  with  other  lines  in  \\hich  two  extra  unaccented 
syllables  may  occur. 

9.  Incomplete  verses,  of  one  or  more  syllables,  are  scattered 
through  the  plays.  See,  for  example,  i.  2.  159,  188,  195,  235,  253, 
259,  268,  and  394  in  this  play. 

10.  Doggerel  measure  is  used  in  the  very  earliest  comedies  (Z.  L. 
L.  and  C.  of  E.  in  particular)  in  the  mouths  of  comic  characters, 
but  nowhere  else  in  those  plays,  and  never  anywhere  in  plays 
written  after  1598. 

11.  Rhyme  occurs  frequently  in  the  early  plays,  but  diminishes 
with  comparative  regularity  from  that  period  until  the  latest.  Thus, 
in  L.  L.  L.  there  are  abt)ut  iioo  rhyming  verses  (about  one-third 
of  the  whole  number),  in  the  yJ/.  N.  D.  about  900,  in  Richard  II. 
and  R.  and  J.  about  500  eacli,  while  in  Cor.  am!  A.  and  C.  there 
are  only  about  40  each,  ni  this  play  only  two,  and  in  the   W.   T. 


Notes  1 2 1 

none  at  all,  except  in  the  chorus  introducing  act  iv.  Songs,  inter- 
ludes, and  other  matter  not  in  ten-syllable  measure  are  not  included 
in  this  enumeratii)n. 

Alternate  rhymes  are  found  only  in  the  plays  written  before  1599 
or  1600,  In  the  M.  of  V.  there  are  only  four  lines  at  the  end  of  iii.  2. 
In  Much  Ado  and  A.  Y,  L.,  we  also  find  a  few  lines,  but  none  at 
all  in  subsequent  plays. 

Rhymed  couplets,  or  "rhyme-tags,"  are  often  found  at  the  end  of 
scenes;  as  in  the  first  scene,  and  twelve  other  scenes,  of  the  AI.  of 
V.  In  Hamlet,  14  out  of  20  scenes,  and  in  Macbeth,  21  out  of  28, 
have  such  "tags";  but  in  the  latest  plays  they  are  not  so  frequent. 
This  play,  for  instance,  has  but  one  (ii.  i),  and  the  W.  T.  none. 

12.  In  this  edition  of  Shakespeare,  the  final  -ed  of  past  tenses 
and  participles  is  printed  -d  when  the  word  is  to  be  pronounced 
in  the  ordinary  way;  as  in  suffered,  line  5,  and  heav'd,  line  62,  of  the 
second  scene.  But  when  the  metre  requires  that  the  -ed  be  made  a 
separate  syllable,  the  e  is  retained;  as  in  infused,  line  154,  of  the 
same  scene,  where  the  word  is  a  trisyllable.  The  only  variation 
from  this  rule  is  in  verbs  like  cry,  die,  etc.,  the  -ed  of  which  is  very 
rarely  made  a  separate  syllable. 

Shakespeare's  Use  of  Verse  and  Prose  in  the  Plays. — 
This  is  a  subject  to  which  the  critics  have  given  very  little  atten- 
tion, but  it  is  an  interesting  study.  In  this  play  we  find  scenes  en- 
tirely in  verse  (none  entirely  in  prose),  and  others  in  which  the  two 
are  mixed.  In  general,  we  may  say  that  verse  is  used  for  what  is  dis- 
tinctly poetical,  and  prose  for  what  is  not  poetical.  The  distinction, 
however,  is  not  so  clearly  marked  in  the  earlier  as  m  the  later 
plays.  The  second  scene  of  M.  of  V.,  for  instance,  is  in  prose,  be- 
cause Portia  and  Nerissa  are  talking  about  the  suitors  in  a  familiar 
and  playful  way;  but  in  the  T.  G.  of  V.,  where  Julia  and  Lucetta 
are  discussing  the  suitors  of  the  former  in  much  the  same  fashion,  the 
scene  is  in  verse.  Dowden,  commenting  on  Richard  II.,  remarks: 
"  Had  Shakespeare  written  the  play  a  few  years  later,  we  may  be 
certain  that  the  gardener  and  his  servants  (iii.  4)  would  not  have 


122  Notes 

uttered  stately  speeches  in  verse,  but  would  have  spoken  homel) 
prose,  and  that  humour  would  have  mingled  with  the  pathos  of  the 
scene.  The  same  remark  may  be  made  with  reference  to  the  sub- 
sequent scene  (v.  5)  in  which  his  groom  visits  the  dethroned  king 
in  the  Tower."  Comic  characters  and  those  in  low  life  generally 
speak  in  prose  in  the  later  plays,  as  Dowden  intimates,  but  in  the 
very  earliest  ones  doggerel  verse  is  much  used  instead.  See  on  10 
above. 

The  change  from  prose  to  verse  is  well  illustrated  in  the  third 
scene  of  J\I.  of  V.  It  begins  with  plain  prosaic  talk  about  a 
business  matter;  but  when  Antonio  enters,  it  rises  at  once  to  the 
higher  level  of  poetry.  The  sight  of  Antonio  reminds  Shylock  of 
his  hatred  of  the  Merchant,  and  the  passion  expresses  itself  in  verse, 
the  vernacular  tongue  of  poetry.  In  the  first  scene  of  the  present 
play,  note  the  change  at  line  51.  "  Here,  where  all  is  lost  and 
tragedy  begins,  blank  verse  also  begins"  (Luce).  In  ii.  i  Anto- 
nio and  Sebastian  talk  in  prose  when  bantering  Gonzalo,  but  in 
verse  when  laying  the  plot  for  murdering  Alonso. 

The  reasons  for  the  choice  of  prose  or  verse  are  not  always  so 
clear  as  in  these  instances.  We  are  seldom  puzzled  to  explain  the 
prose,  but  not  unfrequently  we  meet  with  verse  where  we  might 
expect  prose.  As  Professor  Corson  remarks  (^Introduction  to  Shake- 
speare, 1889),  "Shakespeare  adopted  verse  as  the  general  tenor  of 
his  language,  and  thsrefore  expressed  much  in  verse  that  is  within 
the  capabilities  of  prose;  in  other  words,  his  verse  constantly  en- 
croaches upon  the  domain  of  prose,  but  his  prose  can  never  be  said 
to  encroach  upon  the  domain  of  verse."  If,  in  rare  instances,  we 
think  we  find  exceptions  to  this  latter  statement,  and  prose  actually 
seems  to  usurp  the  place  of  verse,  I  believe  that  careful  study  of 
the  passage  will  prove  the  supposed  exception  to  be  apparent  rather 
than  real. 

Some  Books  for  Teachers  and  Students.  —  A  few  out  of 
the  many  bool;s  that  might  be  commended  to  the  teacher  and  the 
critical  student  are  the  following:   IlalliwcU-rhillipps's  Outlines  of 


Notes  123 

cnc  Life  of  Shakespeare  /'7th  ed.  1887)  5  Sidney  Lee's  Life  of  Shake- 
speare (189S;  for  ordinary  students,  the  abridged  ed.  of  1899  is 
preferable);  ^^cXwaxAV?,  Shakespeare  Lexicoti  (3d  ed.  1902);  Little- 
dale's  ed.  of  Dyce's  Glossary  (1902);  Bartlett's  Concordance  to 
Shakespeare  (1895);  Abbott's  Shakespearian  Grammar  (1873); 
Furness's  "New  Variorum  "  ed.  of  The  Tempest  (1892;  encyclo- 
pedic and  e.xhaustive)  ;  Dowden's  Shakspere  :  LLis  Mind  and  Art 
(American  ed.  1881);  Hudson's  Life,  Art,  and  Characters  of 
Shakespeare  (revised  ed.  1882);  Mrs.  Jameson's  Characteristics 
of  Wometi  (several  eds.;  some  with  the  title,  Shakespeare 
ILeroines);  Ten  Brink's  Five  Lectures  on  Shakespeare  (1895); 
Boas's  Shakespeare  and  LLis  Predecessors  (1895);  Dyer's  /b/.^- 
lore  of  Shakesfeaie  (^\vntx\C2ii\  ed.  1884);  Gervinus's  Shakespeare 
Commentaries  (Bunnett's  translation,  1875);  Wordsworth's  67^^/^^- 
speare's  Knowledge  of  the  Bible  (3d  ed.  1880);  Elson's  Shakespeare 
in  Music  (1901). 

Some  of  the  above  books  will  be  useful  to  all  readers  who  are 
interested  in  special  subjects  or  in  general  criticism  of  Shakespeare. 
Among  those  which  are  better  suited  to  the  needs  of  ordinary 
readers  and  students,  the  following  may  be  mentioned :  Mabie's 
William  Shakespeare  :  Poet,  Dramatist,  and  Man  (19CX));  Dow- 
den's Shakspere  Primer  (1877;  small  but  invaluable);  Rolfe's 
Shakespeare  the  Boy  (1S96  ;  treating  of  the  home  and  school  life, 
the  games  and  sports,  the  manners,  customs,  and  folk-lore  of  the 
poet's  time);  Guerber's  ALyths  of  Greece  and  Rome  (for  young 
students  who  may  need  information  on  mythological  allusions  not 
explained  in  the  notes). 

Black's /«</////  Shakespeare  (1884;  a  novel,  but  a  careful  study 
of  the  scene  and  the  time)  is  a  book  that  I  always  commend  to 
young  people,  and  their  elders  will  also  enjoy  it.  The  Lambs' 
Tales  from  Shakespeare  is  a  classic  for  beginners  in  the  study  of 
the  dramatist ;  and  in  Rolfe's  ed.  the  plan  of  the  authors  is  carried 
out  in  the  Notes  by  copious  illustrative  quotations  from  the  plays. 
Mrs.  Cowden-Clarke's  Girlhood  of  Shakespeare's  LLeroines  (several 


124  Notes 

eds.)  will  particularly  interest  girls;  and  both  girls  and  boys  will  find 
Bennett's  Master  Skylark  (1897)  and  Imogen  Clark's  Will  Shake- 
speare's Little  Lad {lig"])  equally  entertaining  and  instructive. 

H.  Snowden  Ward's  Shakespeare's  To7vn  and  Times  (1896)  and 
John  Leyland's  Shakespeare  Country  (1900)  are  copiously  illus- 
trated books  (yet  inexpensive)  which  may  be  particularly  com- 
mended for  school  libraries. 

Abbreviations  in  the  Notes.  —  The  abbreviations  of  the 
names  of  Shakespeare's  plays  will  be  readily  understood  ;  as 
T.  N.  for  Twelfth  Night,  Cor.  for  Coriolanus,  3  Lien.  VL.  for 
The  Third  Part  of  King  Henry  the  Sixth,  etc.  P.  P.  refers  to 
The  Passionate  Pilgrim;  V.  and  A.  to  Venus  and  Adonis ;  L.  C. 
to  Lover'' s  Complaint ;  and  Sonn.  to  the  Sonnets. 

Other  abbreviations  that  hardly  need  explanation  are  Cf.  {confer, 
compare),  Fol.  (following),  Id.  ibidem,  the  same),  and  Prol.  (pro- 
logue). The  numbers  of  the  lines  in  the  references  (except  for  the 
present  play)  are  those  of  the  "  Globe  "  edition  (the  cheapest  and 
best  edition  of  Shakespeare  in  one  compact  volume),  which  is  now 
generally  accepted  as  the  standard  for  line-numbers  in  works  of  ref- 
erence (Schmidt's  Lexicon,  Abbott's  Grammar,  Dowden's  Pri?ner, 
the  publications  of  the  New  Shakspere  Society,  etc.). 

The  Seamanship  of  the  Play. — The  following  notes  on  this 
subject  were  furnished  to  Malone  by  the  second  Lord  Mulgrave,  a 
distinguished  naval  officer:  — 

"  The  first  scene  of  The  Tempest  is  a  very  striking  instance  of  the 
great  accuracy  of  Shakspeare's  knowledge  in  a  prnfessional  j^rience, 
the  most  difficult  to  attain  without  the  help  of  experience.  He 
must  have  acquired  it  by  conversation  with  some  of  the  most  skil- 
ful seamen  of  that  time.  .  .  .  The  succession  of  events  is  strictly 
observed  in  the  natural  progress  of  the  distress  described;  the  ex- 
pedients adopted  are  the  most  proper  that  could  have  been  devised 
for  a  chance  of  safety:  and  it  is  neither  to  the  want  of  skill  of  the 
seamen  or  the  bad  qualities  of  the  ship,  lu\t  solely  to  the  power  of 
Prospero,  that  the  shipwreck  is  to  be  attributed.     The  words  of 


Notes 


125 


command  are  not  only  strictly  proper,  but  are  only  such  as  point  to 
the  object  to  be  attained,  and  no  superfluous  ones  of  detail.  Shak- 
speare's  ship  was  too  well  manned  to  make  it  necessary  to  tell  the 
seamen  how  they  were  to  do  it,  as  well  as  what  they  were  to  do. 
He  has  shown  a  knowledge  of  the  new  improvements,  as  well  ac 
the  doubtful  points  of  seamanship  ;  one  of  the  latter  he  has  intro- 
duced under  the  only  circumstances  in  which  it  was  indisputable. 


ij/  Position. 
"  Fall  to   't  yarely,  or  we  run 
ourselves  aground. 


2d  Position, 
'•  Yare.  yare,  take  in  the  top  • 
Jwil ;    blow    till   thou   burst   thy 
wind,  if  room   enough. 


2)d  Position. 
"  Down  with  the  topmast.  — 
Yare,   lower,   lower,   bring   her 
to  try  with  the  main  course. 


1st  Position. 
"  Land  discovered  under  the 
lee;  the  wind  blowing  too  fresh 
to  hawl  upon  a  wind  with  the 
topsail  set.  Yare  is  an  old  sea 
term  for  briskly,  in  use  at  that 
time.  This  first  command  is 
therefore  a  notice  to  be  ready 
to  execute   any  order    quickly. 

2(1  Position. 
"  The  topsail  is  taken  in. 
'Blow  till  thou  burst  thy  wind, 
if  room  enough.'  The  danger 
in  a  good  sea  boat  is  only  from 
being  too  near  the  land :  this  is 
introduced  here  to  account  for 
the  next  order. 

2)d  Positio:'.. 
"  The  gale  increasing,  the  top- 
mast is  struck,  to  take  the  weight 
from  aloft,  make  the  ship  drift 
less  to  leeward,  and  bear  the 
mainsail  under  which  the  ship 
is  laid  to. 


126  Notes  [Act  I 

/^th  Position.  i,th  Position. 

"  Lay  her  a-hold,  a-hold  ;  set  "The    ship,    having    driven 

her  two  courses  off  to  sea  again,       near  the  shore,  the  mainsail  is 
lay  her  oft.  hawled  up,  the  ship  wore,  and 

the  two  courses  set  on  the  other 
tack,  to  endeavour  to  clear  the 
land  that  way. 

t,tk  Position.  ^th  Position. 

"  We  aplit,  we  split.  "  The  ship  not  able  to  weathei 

a  point,  is  driven  on  shore." 

These  views  have  been  indorsed  by  Captain  E.  K.  Calver,  R.N., 
F.R.S.,  and  other  experts  in  nautical  science.  They  all  agree  that 
the  ship  was  wrecked  through  Prospero's  magic,  not  for  lack  of 
good  seamanship  on  the  part  of  the  officers  and  the  crewr. 


ACT  I 

Scene  I.  —  In  the  first  folio,  the  play  is  divided  into  acts  and 
scenes.  At  the  end,  printed  side  by  side  with  the  Epilogue,  a  list 
of  dramatis  persona  is  given,  under  the  heading  "  A^ames  of  the 
Actors,^'  and  above  this  is  "  The  Scene,  an  vn-inhabited  Island." 

I.  Master.  Boatswain!  Furness  quotes  Captain  John  ^mith, 
Accidence  for  Young  Seamen,  1626:  "The  Maister  and  his  Mate  is 
to  direct  the  course,  command  all  the  Saylors,  for  steering,  trim- 
ming, and  sayling  the  Ship.  .  .  .  The  Boteswaine  is  to  have  the 
charge  of  all  the  cordage,  tackling,  sales,  fids,  and  marling  spikes, 
needles,  twine  and  saile-cloth,  and  rigging  of  the  Ship." 

3.  G»od,  speak  to  the  mariners.  That  is,  good  hoatsivain  or  fel- 
low. The  folio  ha»  "  Good :  Speake  to  th'  Mariners :  "  and  soma 
retain  that  pointing,  making  ^oo(/ =  good  cheer.  But  the  cheei 
was  not  good,  as  they  were  running  aground.  Luce  makes 
good—  "That  is  right ;  I  am  glad  to  see  you  are  ready";   but  that 


Scene  I]  JNotes  11"} 

would  be  taken  for  granted  by  the  Master.  He  would  not  speak 
to  a  subordinate  in  that  way.  Cf.  also  just  below,  "  Nay,  good,  be 
patient,"  and  Ham.  i.  I.  70:   "Good  now,  sit  down." 

4.  Yarely.  Readily,  nimbly  ;  from  yare,  quick,  active.  Cf.  A. 
and  C.  ii.  2.  216  :  "That  yarely  frame  the  office";  and  for  yar-e 
(v.  I.  224  below),  cf.  T.N.  iii.  4.  244:  "be  yare  in  thy  preparation  "; 
A.  and  C.  v.  2.  286  :  "  Yare,  yare,  good  Iras,  quick,"  etc. 

5.  Cheerly.  An  example  of  "  -ly  found  with  a  noun,  and  yet  not 
appearing  to  convey  an  adjectival  meaning."  Cf.  "angerly,"  Macb. 
iii.  5.  I  ;  "  hungerly,"  0th.  iii.  4.  105,  etc.  S.  uses  cheerly  often, 
but  cheerily  not  once.  Milton  has  cheerly  in  U Allegro  —  the  only 
instance  in  which  he  uses  either. 

6.  Tetid.  Attend ;  as  in  i.  2.  47  below.  Cf.  Rich.  HI.  iv.  i. 
93:  "Good  angels  tend  thee  !  "  etc. 

8.  If  room  enough.  If  there  be  sea-room  enough.  Cf.  Per.  iii. 
I.  45:  "But  sea-room,  an  the  brine  and  cloudy  billow  kiss  the 
moon,  I  care  not;  "  and  just  above  (43):  "Thou  wilt  not,  wilt 
thou?     Blow,  and  split  thyself!  " 

10.  Play  the  men.  Play  the  part  of  men,  behave  like  men  :  as 
in  I  Hen.  VI.  \.  6.  16 :  "  When  they  shall  hear  how  we  have  play'd 
the  men."     Cf.  Chapman's  Iliad,  bk.  v. :  — 

"  Which  doing,  thou  shalt  know  what  souldiers  play  the  men, 
And  what  the  cowards ;  " 

and  Marlowe's  Tamburlaine,  i.  i :  "  Viceroys  and  peers  of  Turkey, 
■play  the  men."     See  also  i,  Samuel,  x.  12. 

1 2.  Where  is  the  master,  boatstvain  ?  Here  the  folio  has  "  Boson," 
which  is  still  the  pronunciation. 

14.  You  do  assist  the  storm.  Cf.  Per.  iii.  i.  19  :  "  Patience,  good 
sir  ;   do  not  assist  the  storm." 

1 5.  What  cares  these  roarers,  etc.  Some  editors  change  fa?v.s  to 
care,  but  the  singular  is  often  used  before  a  plural  subject.  Cf.  iv, 
I.  261  below.  Of  course  no  typographical  error  is  possible  in  cases 
where  the  rhyme  requires  the  form  in  -s ;  as  in  Rich,  II.  iii.  3. 168  r 


128  Notes  [Act  1 

"  There  lies 
Two  kinsmen  digg'd  their  graves  with  weeping  eyes;  " 

and  L.  C.  230 : — 

"  And  to  their  audit  comes 
Their  distract  parcels  in  combined  sums." 

17.  To  cabin.  For  the  omission  of  the,  cf.  "at  door"  {^W.  T. 
iv.  4.  352  and  T.  of  S.  iv.  i.  125),  "at  end"  {^Cor.  iv.  7.  4),  "  to 
west"  {Sonn.  33.  8),  etc, 

23.  Of  the  present.  Ci.  J.  C.  i.  2.  165:  "For  this  present ;  '"  and 
I  Corinthians,  xv.  6. 

24.  Hand.     Lay  hands  on,  touch  ;   as  in  JV.  T.  ii.  3.  63  :  — 

"  Let  him  that  makes  but  trifles  of  his  eyes 
First  hand  me." 

30.  He  hath  no  drozvning  mark  upon  him,  etc.  The  allusion  to 
the  familiar  proverb  is  obvious.     Cf.  T.  G.  of  V.  i.  i.  156  :  — 

"  Go,  go,  begone  to  save  your  ship  from  wrack, 
Which  cannot  perish  having  thee  aboard. 
Being  destin'd  to  a  drier  death  on  shore." 

See  also  v.  i.  218  below.      Complexion  =  look,  personal  appearance. 

35.  Down  with  the  topniast,  etc.  Striking  the  topmast  was  a  new 
invention  in  S.'s  time,  which  he  here  very  properly  introduces. 
See  the  comments  of  Lord  Mulgrave,  p.  125  above.  Lower  is  in 
the  imperative  mood. 

36.  Bring  her  to  try  wV  the  main  course.  Keep  her  as  close  to 
the  wind  as  possible  with  the  mainsail.  Malone  quotes  Hakluyt's 
Voyages  (1598)  :  "  And  when  the  barke  had  way,  we  cut  the  hauser, 
and  so  gate  the  sea  to  our  friend,  and  tried  out  all  that  day  with 
our  maine  course."  The  phrase  is  also  found  in  Smith's  Sea- 
Grammar,  1627. 

42.  Incharitable.     Used  by  S.  only  here.      Uncharitable  he  does 
not  use  at  all ;    but  we  find  uncharitably  in  Rich.  III.  i.  3.  275. 
47.  ril  warrant  him  for  drowning.     For  here  may  be  either 


Scene  I]  Notes  129 

"  as  regards "  or  "  against."  For  the  latter  meaning,  cf.  Lyly, 
Eiiphues :  "  If  he  were  too  long  for  the  lied,  they  cut  off  his  legs, 
for  catching  cold,"  etc. 

49.  Lay  her  a-hold,  a- hold !  To  lay  a  ship  a-hold  is  to  bring  her 
to  lie  as  near  to  the  wind  as  she  can,  in  order  to  keep  clear  of  the 
land,  and  get  her  out  to  sea  (Steevens). 

Set  her  two  courses.  That  is,  the  mainsail  (the  main  course 
above)  and  foresail.  The  folio  reads  :  "  Lay  her  a  hold,  a  hold, 
set  her  two  courses  off  to  sea  againe,  lay  her  off."  The  pointing  in 
the  text  is  Holt's,  and  is  generally  adopted.  As  the  mainsail 
appears  to  be  set  already  (see  36  above),  the  folio  may  possibly  be 
right ;  but  Set  her  two  courses  off  to  sea  would  hardly  be  nautical 
language.  Perhaps,  however,  two  is  emphatic,  and  the  order 
supplements  and  modifies  the  former  one,  which  has  been  given 
only  a  moment  earlier. 

53.  Must  our  mouths  he  cold  J  Must  we  die?  Furness  quotes 
Beaumont  and  Fletcher,  Scornful  Lady,  ii.  2  :  — 

"  Would  I  had  been  cold  i'  the  mouth  before  this  day. 
And  ne'er  have  lived  to  see  this  dissolution !  " 

56.  We  are  merely  cheated,  etc.  Absolutely  cheated.  Cf.  M. 
of  V.  iii.  2.  265:  "mere  enemy";  0th.  ii.  2.  3  :  "the  mere  perdi- 
tion (that  is,  the  entire  destruction)  of  the  Turkish  fleet " ;  Hen. 
VIIL  iii.  2.  329 :  "  the  mere  undoing  (the  complete  ruin)  of  all 
the  kingdom,"  etc.  So  in  Bacon's  58th  Essay :  "As  for  conflagra- 
tions and  great  droughts,  they  do  not  merely  (that  is,  entirely)  dis- 
people and  destroy"';  where  most  of  the  modern  editors  (Mon- 
tague and  Whately  included)  have  changed  "  and  destroy  "  to  "  but 
destroy,"  though  this  (as  the  context  shows)  makes  Bacon  say  the 
opposite  of  what  he  evidently  means. 

58.  Washing  of  ten  tides.  Apparently  an  allusion  (as  Elze  notes) 
to  the  execution  of  pirates,  who  "were  hanged  on  the  shore  at 
lowe  water  marke,  where  they  were  left  till  three  tides  have  over- 
v,'ashed  them"  (Harrison,  Description  of  England^. 

THE  TEMPEST  —  9 


I  JO  Notes  [Act  I 

60,  To  glut  Jdm.  To  swallow  him  ;  the  only  instance  of  this 
sense  in  S.     Cf.  Milton,  P.  L.  x.  633  :  "  sucketl  and  glutted  offal." 

66.  Long  heath,  brown  furze.  Ilanmer  suggested  "ling,  heath, 
broom,  furze,"  which  some  editors  adopt ;  but  Furness  finds  loug 
heath  as  the  name  of  a  plant  in  Lvte's  Herball,  1576. 

Scene  II.  —  Coleridge  remarks :  "  In  the  second  scene,  Prospe- 
ro's  speeches,  till  the  entrance  of  Ariel,  contain  the  finest  example 
I  remember  of  retrospective  narration  for  the  purpose  of  exciting 
immediate  interest,  and  putting  the  audience  in  possession  of  all  the 
information  necessary  for  the  understanding  of  the  plot.  Observe, 
too,  the  perfect  probability  of  the  moment  chosen  by  Prospero  (the 
very  Shakespeare  himself,  as  it  were,  of  the  tempest)  to  open  out 
the  truth  to  his  daughter,  his  own  romantic  bearing,  and  how  com- 
pletely anything  that  might  have  been  disagreeable  to  us  in  the 
magician  is  reconcilalile  and  shaded  in  the  humanity  and  natural 
feelings  of  the  father.  In  the  very  first  speech  of  Miranda  the  sim- 
plicity and  tenderness  of  her  character  are  at  once  laid  open  —  it 
would  have  been  lost  in  direct  contact  with  the  agitation  of  the 
first  scene." 

3.  Stinking  pitch.  The  verb  (which  S.  uses  some  twenty  times) 
was  not  so  offensive  in  his  day  as  now,     Cf.  d'ersttcitk  in  iv.  I.  184. 

4.  Mounting  to  the  ivelkin's  cheek,     Cf.  Rich.  II.  iii.  3.  57:  — 

"  Their  thundering  shock 
At  meeting  tears  the  cloudy  cheeks  of  heaven." 

5.  Fire.     A  dissyllable.     See  p.  119  above. 

7.  Who  had,  no  doubt,  some  noble  creature  in  her.  S.  often  has 
who  =  which,  and  vice  versa.  Some  editors  change  creature 
(which  may  be  collective)  to  "  creatures." 

II.  Or  ere.  The  or  is  undoulitedly  the  Anglo-Saxon  ivr  (our 
ere)  which  apper.rs  in  early  English  in  the  forms  er,  air,  ar,  ear,  or, 
eror.  We  find  or  =  before  in  Cliaucer,  as  in  the  Knightes  Tale, 
1685  :   "Cleer  was  the  day,  as  1  have  told  or  this";    and  later,  as  in 


Scene  II]  Notes  I3I 

Latimer  and  Ascham.  Ei-e  seems  to  have  been  added  to  or  for 
emphasis  when  the  meaning  of  the  latter  was  dying  out.  In  early 
English  we  find  such  combinations  as  erst  er,  bifore  er,  before  or. 
Some  explain  or  ere,  which  they  write  or  e^er,  as  a  contraction  of  or 
ever  —  before  ever.  Or  ever  is,  indeed,  not  unfrequently  found  (in 
the  Bible,  for  instance,  in  Ecclesiastes,  xii.  6,  Proverbs,  viii.  23, 
Daniel,  vi.  24,  etc.)  ;  but,  as  Abbott  remarks,  it  is  much  more  likely 
that  ever  should  be  substituted  for  ere  than  ere  for  ever. 

13.  Fraughting.  Making  up  htr  fraught,  or  freight.  S.  does 
not  u%e  freight,  either  as  a  verb  or  a  noun.  Y ox  fraught,  cf.  AI.  of 
V.  ii.  8.  30:  "A  vessel  .  .  .  richly  fraught";  and  for  the  noun 
(=  cargo),  see  T.  N.  v.  i.  64.  The  word  is  now  used  only  in  a 
figurative  sense;    as  in  "fraught  with  danger,^'  etc. 

15.  N^o  harm.  Johnson  plausibly  suggests  that  this  is  a  question, 
and  that  it  belongs  to  Miranda's  speech. 

19.  Jlfore  better.     For  the  double  comparative,  cf.  438  below. 

20.  Full.  To  the  full,  very.  Cf.  A.  and  C.  \.  1.  59:  "full 
sorry,"  etc. 

22.  Meddle  with  my  thoughts.  That  is,  mingle  with  them.  Cf. 
Wiclif,  Matthew,  xxvii.  24 :  "  wyn  medlid  with  gall "  ;  fohn,  xix. 
39 :  "a  medlihg  of  myrre  and  aloes  "  ;  Spenser,  Shep.  Kal.  Apr. 
68:  "The  redde  rose  medled  with  the  white  yfere,"  etc. 

24.  Pluck.  See  on  v.  I.  127  below.  So  expresses  "  acquiescence 
or  approval  (=  well),"  as  Schmidt  notes.  Cf.  v.  i.  96  below.  See 
also  Hen.  VIII.  iv.  2.  4 :  "  Reach  a  chair.  So."  and  0th.  v.  i.  82 : 
"  Lend  me  a  garter.     So." 

25.  lie  there,  my  art.  Fuller  (^Holy  State,  iv.  6)  says  that  Lord 
Burleigh,  when  he  put  off  his  gown  at  night,  used  to  say,  "  Lie 
there,  Lord  Treasurer." 

26.  Wrack.  The  word  is  invariably  ivrack  in  S.,  and  was  so 
pronounced.  Cf.  the  rhymes  in  V.  and  A.  558,  R.  of  L.  841,  965, 
Sonn.  126.  5,  Macb.  v.  5.  51,  etc. 

27.  The  very  virtue  of  compassion.  The  very  essence  or  soul 
of  it. 


132  Notes  [Act  I 

28.  /  have  -with  such  p}-ovision.  Some  read,  "  prevision  "  ;  bu':, 
as  Mrs.  Kemble  remarks  {^Atlantic  Monthly,  vol.  viii.  p.  290),  "  It 
is  very  true  that  /;vvision  means  the  foresight  that  his  art  gave  him, 
but /revision  implies  the  exercise  of  that  foresight  or/;wision;  it 
is  therefore  better,  because  more  comprehensive." 

29.  So  safely  order' d  that  there  is  no  soul — .  This  is  quite  ob- 
viously an  instance  of  anacoluthon,  but  various  alterations  have 
been  suggested. 

31.  Betid.  The  -ed  of  the  participle  is  often  omitted  after  d 
and  t.     Cf.  quit,  in  148  below. 

32.  Which  thou,  etc.  For  the  "  chiastic  "  arrangement  of  clauses, 
cf.  334  below  ;   also  Macb.  i.  3.  60,  61,  etc.     S.  was  fond  of  it. 

35.  Inquisition.  Inquiry  ;  as  in  A.  Y.  L.  ii.  2.  20  :  "  Searcb 
and  inquisition."     S.  uses  the  word  only  twice. 

41.    Out.     Fully,  completely.     Cf.  iv.  i.  loi  below:  "right  out.'' 

53.  T'tvelve  year  since,  etc.  The  folio  reads,  "Twelue  yere  since 
{^Miranda),  twelue  yere  since."  The  first  year  is  a  dissyllable. 
Some  critics  lengthen  the  preceding  Twelve  instead,  and  Furness 
approves  that  scansion ;  but,  to  my  thinking,  the  rhythm  is  better 
satisfied  by  the  dissyllabic  year.  For  the  variation  in  a  repeated 
word,  cf.  M.  of  V.  iii.  2.  20,/.  C.  iii.  i.  1 71,  etc. 

This  passage,  in  connection  with  41  above,  fixes  the  age  of 
Miranda  as  less  than  fifteen.  Marina  in  Pericles  is  fifteen  when 
the  play  ends.  Juliet  is  only  fourteen.  These  are  the  only  in- 
stances in  which  the  age  of  S.'s  young  heroines  is  definitely  stated 
or  indicated. 

56.  Piece.     Model,  masterpiece.     Cf.  A.  and  C.  iii.  2.  28,  etc. 

58.  And  his  only  heir,  etc.     The  reading  of  the  folio  is:  — 

"  Was  Duke  of  Millaine,  and  his  onely  heire, 
And  Princesse;  no  worse  Issued." 

With  the  omission  of  the  semicolon  this  is  clear  enough  (^vas  being 
understood  after  Princess),  but  sundry  attempts  at  emendation  have 
been  made      Pope  reads  "A  princess." 


Scene  II]  Notes  133 

63.  Holp.  For  holpen,  the  old  participle  of  help.  For  the  full 
form  see  Psalms,  Ixxxiii.  8,  Daniel.,  xi.  34,  etc.  The  contracteil 
form  is  common  in  early  writers.  Holp  is  properly  the  past  tense 
of  help,  and  S.  uses  it  oftener  than  helped. 

64.  Teen.  Grief,  trouble.  Cf.  R.  and  J.  i.  3.  13  :  "to  my  teen 
be  it  spoken";  Z.  L.  L.  iv.  3.  164  :  "  of  groans,  of  sorrow,  and  of 
teen,"  etc. 

65.  From  my  remembrance.  That  is,  away  from  it.  From  is 
often  so  used;  as  in  J.  C.  i.  3.  35:  "clean  from  the  purpose"; 
T.  N.  i.  5.  201 :  "This  is  from  my  commission,"  etc. 

66.  jMy  brother,  and  thy  uncle,  etc.  This,  with  the  following 
speech  of  Prospero,  has  well  been  called  "  a  network  of  anacolutha." 
"The  subject,  My  brother,  is  dropped,  and  taken  up  again  as  he 
whom,  and  finally  in  false  uncle,  before  its  verb  (but  only  after 
another  interruption)  is  reached  in  new  created.  A  parenthesis 
begins  with  as  at  that  ti?ne  ;  but  it  ceases  to  be  treated  as  a  paren- 
thesis, and  eddies  into  the  main  current  of  expression  at  those  being 
all  my  study  "  (^A'Otes  of  Studies  on  Temp,  by  the  Shaks.  Soc.  of 
Philadelphia). 

70.  Manage.     For  the  noun,  cf.  M.  of  V.  iii.  4.  25,  etc. 

As  at  that  time.  The  as  is  probably  redundant  here,  as  often  in 
statements  of  time.  In  early  English  as  is  often  prefixed  to  dates  : 
'•  as  this  year  of  grace,"  etc.  Chaucer  has  as  noiv,  as  here.,  etc.  = 
now,  here,  etc.  Professor  G.  Allen  (Phila.  ed.),  who  was  the  first  to 
call  attention  to  this  use  of  as  in  S.,  quotes  the  Collect  for  Christ- 
mas in  the  Prayer-Book  :  "  Almighty  God,  who  hast  given  us  thy 
oiily-begotten  Son  to  take  our  nature  upon  him,  and  as  at  this  lime 
to  be  born,"  etc.  Cf.  M.  for  M.  v.  i.  74  :  "  One  Lucio  as  then  the 
messenger." 

71.  Through  all  the  signiories  it  was  the  first.  Botero  (^Rela- 
tions of  the  World,  1630)  says,  "Milan  claims  to  be  the  first  duchy 
in  Europe." 

72.  Prime.  First  in  rank.  See  424  below  ;  and  cf.  Hen.  VII !■ 
iii.  2.  162  :  "The  prime  man  of  the  state." 


134  Notes  [Act  i 

So.  IVho  to  advance,  etc.  IVko  =  ivhom,  as  often.  Cf.  231,  etc. 
below. 

81.  To  trash  for  overtopping.  A  metaphor  taken  from  hunting. 
To  trash  a  hound  was  to  check  or  hamper  him,  so  that  he  would 
not  outrun  the  pack.     Cf.  0th.  ii.  I.  312:  — 

"  If  this  poor  trash  of  Venice,  whom  I  trash 
For  his  quick  hunting." 

Some  have  thought  that  there  is  a  mixing  of  metaphors  here, 
overtopping  being  supposed  to  refer  to  the  growth  of  trees  (as  in 
A.  and  C.  iv.  12.  24);  but  in  the  present  passage,  as  often,  the 
word  means  simply  to  be  too  forward  or  too  ambitious,  as  opposed 
to  advance. 

83.  The  key,  etc.  The  means  of  getting  into  office,  the  control 
of  it ;   not  a  figure  taken  from  a  tuning-key,  as  some  assume. 

85.  That  now,  etc.     So  that  now,  etc.  ;   a  common  ellipsis. 

86.  The  ivy,  etc.  The  ivy  was  thought  to  be  a  parasitic  plant 
and  injurious  to  trees.     Cf.  C.  of  E.  ii.  2.  180  :   "  usurping  ivy." 

87.  Outon^t.    Yox  on  —  of,c(.  361, ii.  i.  135, and  iv.  i.  i57below. 

90.  Closeness.  Privacy,  seclusion  ;  the  only  instance  of  the 
noun  in  S.  Cf.  "  a  close  (secret)  exploit  of  death  "  {Rich.  If  I.  iv. 
2.  35);  "we  have  closely  (privately)  sent  for  Hainlet "  {Ham. 
iii.  I.  29),  etc. 

91.  But  by  being  so  retired.  "  Were  it  only  for  the  retirement  it 
procured  me;  "    or,  perhaps,  except  for  its  being  so  retired. 

94.  Like  a  good  parent.  "  Alluding  to  the  observation  that  a 
father  above  the  common  rate  of  men  has  commonly  a  son  below 
it "  (Johnson). 

95.  Its.     The  folio  spelling.     See  on  392  below. 

97.  Sans  bound.  Without  limit.  As  sans  was  much  used  by 
writers  of  the  time  of  S.,  it  appears  to  have  been  viewed  as  an 
English  word.  Cotgrave  (/)•.  Did.)  translates  Sans  by  "  Sanse, 
without,  besides"  ;  and  Florio  {Ital.  Diet.)  gives  "sanse  "as  an 
EnglicK  equivalent  of  senza.      In  a  familiar  passage  in  A.  Y.L.  (ii. 


Scene  II]  Notes  Ijc 

7,  166),  S.  uses  it  four  times  in  a  single  line.  Lorded  —  made  a 
lord.  Cf.  siraiigered  —  mdide  a  stranger  {Lear,  i.  i.  207),  and 
servanted ^  made  subservient  (Cor.  v.  2.  89).  But  kinged ^=  ruled 
(A'.  John,\\.  I.  371),  fathered  =  provided  with  a  father  {^J.  C.  ii. 
I.  297  and  Lear,  iii.  6.  117),  lover ed  =  gifted  with  a  Itiver  (Z.  6'. 
320),  etc. 

98.  Revenue.  Accented  by  S,  on  either  the  first  or  second 
syllable. 

100.  Unto  truth,  etc.  The  folio  has  "  into,"  which  Dyce  retains, 
quoting  as  another  instance  of  into  for  unto,  "And  pray  God's 
blessing  into  thy  attempt,"  (.J.  W.  i.  3.  269).  In  "  telling  of  it," 
?V  refers  to  lie,  by  anticipation.  Cf.  Tennyson,  Sea  Dreams,  i8l": 
"  So  false  he  partly  took  himself  for  true."  As  is  omitted  before 
To  credit.  Cf.  M.  of  V,  iii.  3.  9  :  "  so  fond  to  come  abroad,"  etc. 
Some  explain  the  passage  thus  :  "having  made  such  a  sinner  of 
his  mem.ory  as  to  credit  his  own  lie  into  truth  by  telling  of  it," 
that  is,  "believe  it  into  the  semblance  of  truth"  ;  but  this  seems 
forced  and  awkward. 

103.  Newas  indeed,  etc.  An  Alexandrine  (with  an  extra  final 
syllable),  as  Fleay  makes  it  ;  but  attempts  have  been  made  to  cut 
it  down  to  an  eleven-syllable  line. 

107.  Screen.  "Prospero  was  the  screen  behind  which  the 
traitorous  Antonio  governed  the   people  of  Milan "  (Daniel). 

109.  Absolute  Milan.  The  actual  duke  of  Milan.  For  the  use 
of  Milan,  cf.  433  below:  "myself  am  Naples";  that  is,  king  of 
Naples.  Me,  poor  man,  etc.,  is  another  instance  of  anacoluthon. 
See  on  66  above. 

1 10.  Temporal  royalties.  Cf.  M.  of  V.  iv,  I.  190 :  "  His  sceptre 
shows  the  force  of  temporal  power." 

111.  Confederates.  Conspires;  the  only  instance  of  the  verb 
in  S. 

112.  Dry.  Thirsty.  Wright  says  that  this  sense  is  "still  com- 
mon in  provincial  English  " ;  and  so  it  is  in  Yankee  English.  Cf. 
I  Hen.  LV.  i.  3.  31,  2  ILen.  VL.  iv.  10,  14,  etc. 


136  Notes  [Act  I 

117.  His  condition  and  the  event.  The  bargain  he  made  with 
the  King  of  Naples,  and  the  consequences  that  followed. 

118.  Might  be.  Could  be.  Cf.  M.  N.  D.  ii.  2.  100,  Ham.  i-  2. 
141,  etc. 

119.  To  think  but  nobly.     That  is,  otherwise  than  nobly, 

122.  Hearkens.     Cf.  2  Hen.  IV.  ii.  4.  303  :   "  Hearken  the  end." 

123.  In  lieu  d'  the  premises.  In  consideration  of.  Cf.  "in  lieu 
thereof"  (7".  G.  of  V.  ii.  7.  88  and  Z.  L.  L.  iii.  i,  130),  "in  lieu 
whereof"  {K.John,  v.  4.  44)>  etc. 

125.   Presently.     Immediately;   as  in  iv.  1.42  below,  and  often. 
134.    A  hint.     A  cause,  or  subject.     Cf.  "our  hint  of  woe,"  ii.  i. 
3  Tjelow. 

137.  The  which.  Not  uncommon  in  S.  The  who  is  not  found  ; 
and  the  whom  only  in  IV.  T.  iv.  4.  539. 

138.  Impertinent.  Irrelevant;  used  by  S.  only  here  and  (by 
Launcelot)  in  M.  of  V.  ii.  2.  146.  Cf.  the  one  instance  of  imperti- 
nency  in  Lear,  iv.  6.  1 78.  We  still  use  pertinent  in  this  original 
sense. 

139.  IVench.  This  word  originally  meant  young  woman  only, 
without  the  contempt  now  annexed  to  it.  Cf.  Hen.  VIII.  iv.  2. 
167:  "When  I  am  dead,  good  wench,"  etc.;  Oih.  v.  2.  272:  "O, 
ill-starred  wench!"  etc.  Demanded  =  3iS\^&d  (as  very  often),  not 
in  the  stronger  modern  sense. 

144.  In  few.  In  short.  Cf.  Ham.  i.  3.  126:  "in  few,  Ophelia," 
etc.  Here  Milan  is  made  a  seaport.  Cf.  Valentine's  voyage  from 
Verona  to  Milan  (7'.  G.  of  F.  i.  i.  71  fol.). 

146.  Boat.  The  folios  have  "butt"  or  "but"  ;  corrected  by  Rov^e 
(from  Dryden's  version).  It  has  been  suggested  that  the  "butt" 
of  the  folio  was  some  kind  of  boat,  and  P'urness  thinks  this  is  "  un- 
questionably "  true  ;  but  the  A'ew  Eng.  Diet,  does  not  recognize 
the  word  in  that  sense. 

148.  Have  qtot.  For  quit,  see  on  betid,  31  above.  Hoist  is  a 
similar  contraction,  unless  it  be  from  the  old  verb  hoise,  which  S, 
has  in  Rich.  III.  iv.  4.  529  :  "  Hoised  sail,"  etc. 


Scene  II]  Notes  137 

151.  Did  us  but  loving  wrong.  Only  injured  us  by  their  sympa- 
thetic sighing,  that  is,  blowing.  Cf.  "good  mischief"  in  iv,  i.  214 
below. 

152.  A  chertibin.  This  is  the  reading  of  the  folio  here,  as  well 
as  in  T.  of  A.  iv.  3.  63,  Macb.  i.  7.  22,  0th.  iv.  2.  63,  and  L.  C  319, 
the  only  other  places  in  which  S.  uses  the  singular,  except  Ham.  iv. 
3.  50,  where  cherub  ("  Cherube  "  in  folio)  occurs.  He  uses  cheru- 
bins  as  the  plural  in  M.  of  V.  \.  I.  62,  Hen.  VIII.  i.  i.  23,  T.  and 
C.  iii.  2.  74,  and  Cymb.  ii.  4.  88.  Neither  cherubim  nor  cheritbims 
is  to  be  found  in  the  folio,  though  both  are  given  in  many  modern 
eds. 

154.  Infused.  Inspired,  filled ;  as  in  Rich.  II.  iii.  2,  166,  3 
Hen.  VI.  V.  4.  41,/.  C.  i.  3.  69,  etc. 

155.  Deck'd.  "  Here  deck'd  would  appear  to  be  a  form,  if  it  be 
not  a  corruption,  of  the  provincial  degg'd,  i.e.  sprinkled''''  (Dyce), 

157.  An  undergoing  stomach,  A  sustaining  courage.  Cf.  2 
Hen.  IV.  i.  i.  129  :  "Gan  vail  his  stomach"  (began  to  let  his 
courage  sink),  and  Ham.  i.  i.  100  :  "some  enterprise  That  hath  a 
stomach  in  't  "  (that  requires  courage).  Elsewhere  it  means  anger, 
resentment,  as  in  T.  G.  of  V.  i.  2.  68  :  "  kill  your  stomach  on  your 
meat ;  "  and  pride,  arrogance,  as  in  Hen.  VIII.  iv.  2.  34  :  "  He 
was  a  man  of  an  unbounded  stomach." 

159.  By  Providence  divine.  The  pointing  of  nearly  all  the 
modern  eds.  The  folio  has  a  comma  after  divine,  and  perhaps 
Furness  is  right  in  thinking  that  the  clause  belongs  v.ilh  what 
follows. 

162.  Who  being,  etc.  A  confused  construction,  but  not  unlike 
many  others  in  S.  Charity  =  kindness,  goodness  of  heart,  like 
gentleness  in  165. 

165.  Have  steaded  much.  Have  been  of  much  service.  Cf.  M. 
of  V.  i.  3.  7  :  "  May  you  stead  me  ?  "  (Can  you  assist  me  ?  )  etc. 

169.   But  ever  see  that  tnan  !     But  once  see  that  man. 

Now  I  arise.  All  the  attempts  to  find  anything  more  than  the 
literal  meaning  in  these  words  are  far-fetched  and  unsatisfactory ; 


138  Notes  [Act  I 

and  I  am  inclined  to  take  them  literally.  Prospero  is  about  to 
bring  his  narrative  to  an  end,  and  rises  —  probably  to  put  on  his 
mantle  again,  as  Dyce  assumes.  Miranda  is  going  to  rise  also,  but 
her  father  bids  her  "  sit  still "  and  hear  the  little  that  remains  to  be 
told  of  their  "  sea-sorrow."  She  wants  to  know  further  what  were 
his  reasons  for  raising  the  storm  —  but  he  answers  her  briefly,  bids 
her  "  cease  more  questions,"  puts  her  to  sleep,  and  hastens  to  call 
Ariel,  whose  report  of  the  tempest  he  is  impatient  to  hear. 

172.  Made  thee  inore  profit  Than  other  princess  can.  Profit  is 
here  a  verb.  Princess  (the  reading  of  the  folio)  is  here  iox  prin- 
cesses. As  Abbott  {^Grammar,  471)  has  shown,  "the  plural  and 
possessive  cases  of  nouns  of  which  the  singular  ends  in  s,  se,  ss, 
ce,  and  ge,  are  frequently  written,  and  still  more  frequently 
pronounced,  without  the  additional  syllable."  Cf.  Macb.  v.  i, 
29  (folio):  "Their  sense  are  shut"  (so  also  in  Sonn.  112.  10)  ; 
Hen.  V.  V.  2.  28  :  "  Your  mightiness  on  both  parts  best  can  wit- 
ness," etc.     See  p.  120  above. 

179.  N'ow  viy  dear  lady.  Now  friendly  to  me  ;  or,  as  Steevens 
puts  it,  "now  my  auspicious  mistress."     Cf.  Lear,  ii.  I.  42. 

181.  I  find  my  zenith,  etc.  Cf. /.  C.  iv.  3.  218  :  "There  is  a 
tide  in  the  affairs  of  men,"  etc.  Zenith  (used  by  S.  only  here)  = 
height  of  good  fortune. 

182.  lijfiuence.  An  astrological  term.  Cf.  Lear,  i.  2.  136,  ii. 
2.  113,  etc. 

185.  Thou  art  inclined  to  sleep.  It  is  not  easy  to  decide  whether 
Miranda  is  put  to  sleep  by  the  art  of  Prospero,  or  falls  asleep  from 
the  effect  of  the  strange  things  she  has  seen  and  heard.  /  know 
thou  canst  not  choose  (perhaps  said  aside)  favours  the  former  inter- 
pretation. The  latter  view  is  well  put  by  Franz  Horn,  who  says  : 
"  The  wonderful  acts  occasionally  like  the  music  upon  Jessica  in 
the  fifth  act  of  The  Merchant  of  Venice,  The  external  miracles  of 
nature  scarcely  affect  Miranda  upon  an  island  where  nature  itself 
has  become  a  wonder,  and  the  wonders  have  become  nature.  But 
for  her,   even   on  that   account,   there    are    only  so   many  greater 


Scene  II]  Notes  139 

wonders  in  the  heart  and  life  of  man.  .  .  ,     The  checkered  course 

of  the  world,  its  wild  passions,  are  to  her  wholly  strange ;   and  the 

relation  of  such  wonders  might  well  affect  her  in  the  manner  her 
father  fears." 

190.  To  answer  thy  best  pleasure ;  be  7  to  fly,  etc.  Henley  cites 
the  imitation  of  this  passage  by  Fletcher,  in  The  Faithful  Shep- 
herdess :  — 

"  Tell  me,  sweetest, 
Wh.it  new  service  now  is  meetest 
For  the  satyre  ;  shall  I  stray 
In  the  middle  ayre,  and  stay 
The  sailing  rack,  or  nimbly  take 
Holde  by  the  moone,  and  gently  make 
Suit  to  the  pale  queene  of  night, 
For  a  beame  to  give  thee  light  ? 
Shall  I  dive  into  the  sea. 
And  bring  thee  coral,  making  way 
Through  the  rising  waves  ?  " 

193.  Ariel  and  all  his  quality.  That  is,  all  his  ability,  his 
powers  ;  or  it  may  mean  "  all  his  confederates,"  as  Steevens  and 
Dyce  explain  it. 

194.  Performed  to  point.  Exactly,  to  the  minutest  point  ;  like 
the  French  a  point.     Cf.  "  to  the  point  "  in  iM.for  M.  iii.  i.  254. 

196.  The  beak.  The  point  of  the  prow;  not  the  "  forecastle," 
as  Schmidt  explains  it. 

197.  The  waist.  "That  part  of  a  ship  which  is  contained 
between  the  quarter-deck  and  the  forecastle"  (Falconer's  Marine 
Dictionary') . 

198.  Td  divide.  IVill  and  7Vould  are  often  used  to  express 
a  repeated  or  customary  action.  Cf.  0th.  i.  3.  147 :  "  But  still  the 
house  affairs  would  draw  her  thence;"  and  below,  iii.  2.  132: 
"Will  hum  about  mine  ears."  So  in  (^'c^-^'%  Elegy :  "  His  listless 
length  at  noontide  would  he  stretch,"  etc. 

200.    Distinctly.    In  its  original  sense  of  separately.    An  allusion 


140  Notes  [Act  I 

to  the  electrical  phenomenon  known  as  Saint  Elmo's  fire.  In 
Hakluyt's  Voyages  (1598)  there  is  the  following  description  of  it, 
which  S.  may  have  had  in  mind :  "I  do  remember  that  in  the 
great  and  boysterous  storme  of  this  foule  weather,  in  the  night 
there  came  upon  the  toppe  of  our  maine  yard  and  maine-mast  a 
certaine  little  light,  much  like  unto  the  light  of  a  little  candle, 
which  the  Spaniards  call  the  Cuerpo  Santo.  This  light  continued 
aboord  our  ship  about  three  houres,  flying  from  maste  to  maste, 
and  from  top  to  top;  and  sometimes  it  would  be  in  two  or  three 
places  at  once." 

207.  Coil.  Turmoil,  tumult.  Cf  T.  of  A.  i.  2.  236 :  "  what  a 
coil's  here!"  R.  and  J.  ii.  5.  67:  "here  's  such  a  coil!"  etc. 
Constant  =  self-possessed. 

209.  Fever  of  the  mad.     Fever  of  delirium.. 

210.  Tricks.  Wild  freaks.  Cf.  M.  for  M.  ii.  2.  121 :  "such 
fantastic  tricks  before  high  heaven,"  etc. 

213.  With  hair  up-staring.  Qi.  J.  C.  iv.  3.  2S0  :  "That  mak'st 
my  blood  cold  and  my  hair  to  stare,"  This  use  of  stare  was  very 
common  in  the  time  of  S. 

217.  Are  they  ,  .  .  safe?  A  needless  question  (cf.  26  fol.  above), 
but  perhaps  intended  only  to  bring  out  the  particulars  that  follow. 

218.  Their  sustaining  garments.  Bearing  or  resisting  the  effects 
of  the  water  (Mason  and  Schmidt).  Some  explain  it  as  "  bearing 
them  up  in  the  water,"  comparing  Ham.  iv.  7.  176. 

222.  Cooling  of  the  air.  Cf.  3  Hen.  VI.  ii.  5.3:  "  blowing  of 
his  nails;"  /.  C.  v.  3.  38:  "saving  of  thy  life,"  etc.  For  odd,  cf. 
v.  I.  255. 

224.  In  this  sad  knot.  Folded  thus.  Cf.  Ham.  i.  5.  174. 
Folded  arms  were  considered  a  sign  of  melancholy.  Cf.  Suckling, 
Sessions  of  the  Poets :  "  With  folded  arms  and  melancholy  hat." 

225.  7Vie  mariners.  Furness  regards  this  as  "  parenthetical," 
and  would  retain  the  comma  in  the  folio  after  ship,-  but  this  seems 
very  awkward. 

228.    De7v.     For  its  magic  power,  cf.  320  below. 


Scene  II]  Notes  I4I 

229.  S/i7/-Tt\v\^  Bermoothes.  The  ever-disturbed  Bermudas. 
"The  epithet  here  applied  to  the  Bermudas,"  says  Ilenley,  "will 
be  best  understood  by  those  who  have  seen  the  chafing  of  the  sea 
over  the  rugged  rocks  by  which  they  are  surrounded,  and  which 
render  access  to  them  so  dangerous."  Cf.  "  still-closing  "  in  iii,  3. 
64  below. 

231.     Who,  zvith  a  charm.     See  on  80  above. 

234.    Flote.     Flood,  wave;    used  by  S.  only  here. 

239.  Past  the  mid  season.  This  speech  and  the  next  have  been 
variously  re-distributed  by  the  editors,  on  the  ground  that  "  Pros- 
pero  asks  a  question  and  yet  answers  it  himself."  Warburton 
adopted  the  conjecture  of  Theobald  that  we  should  read :  — 

"  Prospero.     What  is  the  time  o'  th'  day? 
Ariel.     Past  the  mid  season  at  least  two  glasses. 
Prospero.     The  time,"  etc. 

Johnson,  though  thinking  that  "this  passage  needs  not  be  dis- 
turbed, it  being  common  to  ask  a  question  which  the  next  moment 
enables  us  to  answer,"  suggested :  — 

"  Prospero.     What  is  the  time  o'  th'  day?     Past  the  mid  season? 
Ariel.    At  least  two  glasses. 
Prospero.    The  time,"  etc. 

Staunton,  to  obviate  the  supposed  inconsistency  and  render  any 
change  in  the  distribution  of  the  speeches  unnecessary,  pointed 
Prospero's  speech  thus :  — 

"  At  least  two  glasses — the  time  'twixt  six  and  now  — 
Must  by  us  both  be  spent  most  preciously." 

But,  as  Wright  observes,  this  would  make  the  time  4  P.M.,  which 
hardly  answers  to  Ariel's  "Past  the  mid  season;"  and  it  would 
reduce  the  time  of  the  play  to  little  more  than  two  hours,  when  it 
is  clearly  not  less  than  three.  On  the  whole  there  does  not  seem 
to  be  sufficient  reason  for  disturbing  the  old  text.  Prospero  asks 
the  time  of  day,  and  when  Ariel  says  it  is  past  noon,  he  reflects  a 


142  Notes  [Act  I 

moment  and  decides  that  it  must  be  at  least  two  /lours  later  than 
that,  lie  ought  to  know  the  time  better  than  Ariel,  but  forgets 
this  in  his  present  excited  state  of  mind.  Ariel's  loose  reply  sets 
him  thinking,  and  he  fixes  the  hour  —  perhaps  by  a  glance  at  the 
sun  —  more  precisely  than  his  airy  servitor. 

240.  Two  glasses.  Two  hourglasses,  or  two  hours.  Cf.  v.  i, 
223  below,  and  IV.  T.  i.  2.  306,  iv.  i.  16,  etc.  The  seaman's ^/aw 
in  the  time  of  S.,  as  now,  was  a  half-hour  one —  a  fact  of  which  he 
seems  to  have  been  ignorant. 

242.  Dost  give  nie  pains.  Dost  give  me  hard  work  to  do.  See 
on  iii.  I.  I  below. 

243.  Let  me  remember  thee.  Remind  thee.  Cf.  W,  T.  iii.  2. 
231  :  "  I'll  not  remember  you  of  my  own  lonl,"  etc.  It  is  some- 
times used  in  a  similar  sense  (=  mention)  intransitively;  as  in  2 
Hen,  IV.  V,  2.  142 :  — 

"  Our  coronation  done,  we  will  accite, 
As  I  before  remember'd,  all  our  state." 

Cf.  404  below :  "  The  ditty  does  remember  (mention,  or  com- 
memorate) my  drown'd  father."  The  passive  form  to  he  remem- 
bered is  sometimes  =  to  call  to  mind,  to  recollect;  as,  "If  you 
be  remember'd"  (71/.  for  M.  ii.  i.  no  and  T.  of  S.  iv.  3.  96); 
"I  am  remember'd  "  (^A.   Y.  L.  iii.  5.  131),  etc. 

244.  Is  not  yet  perform'' d  me.  The  me  is  the  "  indirect  object" 
of  the  verb.     Cf.  255  and  494  below. 

248.  Mistakings.  Cf.  T.  of  S.  iv.  5.  49  and  Af.  for  M.  iii.  2.  150. 
S.  never  uses  the  noun  mistake. 

249.  Grudge.  Murmur,  repining.  Schmidt  makes  grudge  or 
grtem/dings  =  "  gvndgings  or  grumblings."  For  the  verb  in  this 
sense,  see  jlhec/i  Ado,  iii.  4.  90  :  "  he  eats  his  meat  without  grudg- 
ing," etc. 

?50.  To  bate  ».e.  Cf.  A.  IV.  ii.  3.  234:  "  I  will  not  bate  thee  s 
scruple,"  etc. 

252.    To  tread  the  ooze.     The  bottom  (not  the  margin)   of  the 


Scene  II]  Notes  1 4'? 

sea.     Cf.  He7i.   V.  i.  2.   164:  "the  ooze  and  bottom  of  the  sea;  " 
and  below,  iii.  3.  100:  "  my  son  i'  the  ooze  is  bedded." 

258.   Envy.     Malice  ;   as  often.     See  M.  of  V.  iv.  i,  10,  126,  etc. 

265,  Argier.  The  old  name  for  Algiers.  It  was  not  obsolete 
even  in  Dryden's  day.  See  his  Limberham,  iii.  i:  "you  Argier's 
man." 

266.  One  thing  she  did.  But  what  it  was  the  poet  nowhere  tells 
us,  and  very  likely  he  could  not  have  told  if  he  had  been  asked. 
He  simply  wished  to  account  for  her  being  on  the  island,  and  inti- 
mates that  she  had  done  something  to  merit  banishment  but  not 
death.  Some  believe  that  it  was  because  she  was  with  child;  but 
we  should  not  expect  the  did,  if  that  were  the  meaning. 

269.  This  blue-eyed  hag.  K  blue  eye  in  S.  regularly  means  one 
with  blue  circles  about  it;  as  in  Aj.  Y.  L.  iii.  2.  393.  Cf.  Ji.  of  L. 
1587:- 

"  And  round  about  lier  tear-distained  eye 
Blue  circles  stream'd,  like  rainbows  in  the  sky." 

271.  IVasi then.  The  folio  has  "was  then,"  which  may  be  what 
S.  wrote.  So  in  332  below  the  folio  has  "  stroakst,  and  made  much 
of  me." 

272.  And,  for  thoit  -vast.  And  because  thou  wast ;  a  common 
use  of  for  in  S. 

273.  Earthy.  Gross,  low.  Cf.  C.  of  E.  iii.  2.  34 :  "  my  earthy 
gross  conceit." 

274.  Hests.  Commands.  Sometimes  printed  "  'bests,"  but  it  is 
not  a  contraction  of  behests.  It  is  used  again  in  iii.  I.  37  and  iv.  I. 
65 ;   and  also  by  Wiclif,  Chaucer,  Spenser,  etc. 

277.  Into  a  cloven  pine.  We  sometimes  find  into  for  in  with 
verbs  of  rest  implying  motion.  See  359  below.  Cf.  Rich.  HI.  v.  5. 
51 :  "Is  all  my  armour  laid  into  my  tent?"  So  we  often  find  in 
with  verbs  of  motion.  Cf.  M.  of  V.  v.  i.  56 :  "  creep  in  our  ears  "; 
Ham.  V.  I.  301 :  "leaping  in  her  grave,"  etc.  "Fall  in  love"  is 
still  a  familiar  idiom. 


144 


Notes  [Act  I 


284.  Caliban.  Farmer  says,  "The  metathesis  in  Caliban  from 
Canibal  is  evident/'     Possibly  that  was  the  origin  of  the  name. 

297.  Co7-respondent  to  command.     Obedient  to  command. 

298.  And  do  my  spriti'ng  gently.  Do  my  work  as  a  spirit  meekly, 
or  with  good  will  (as  opposed  to  moody  above).  Some  editors 
print  "spiriting,"  but  the  folio  has  "  spryting."  Spirit  is  often 
virtually  a  monosyllable.     Cf.  ii.  i.  209. 

301.    Go  7nake  thyself,  etc.     The  folio  reads  thus  :  — 

"  Goe  make  thy  selfe  like  a  Nymph  o'  th'  Sea, 
Be  subiect  to  no  sight  but  thine,  and  mine  :  inuisible 
To  euery  eye-ball  else,"  etc. 

The  arrangement  in  the  text  is  Malone's.     Some  omit  thine  and 
(which  could  well  be  spared),  with  no  other  change. 

311.  Miss.  Do  without.  Cf.  Sonn.  122.  8,^.  ]V.\.  3.  262,  and 
Cor.  ii.  I.  253.  Wright  quotes  Lyly,  Euphues  :  "  so  necessary  that 
we  cannot  misse  them." 

316.  Come,  thou  tortoise  !  when?  <Zi.  J.  C  ii.  I.  5  :  "When, 
Lucius,  when  ?  "      When  ?  is  often  thus  used  to  express  impatience. 

317.  Fi7ie  apparition!  My  quaitit  Ariel.  So  below,  "fine 
spirit,"  "  fine  Ariel,"  and  "  delicate  Ariel."  Quaint  =  pretty, 
dainty  ;   as  in  Af.  IV.  iv.  6.  41,  M.  N.  D.  ii.  i.  99.  etc 

320.  Wicked.  Baneful,  poisonous.  Cf.  Chaucer,  Rom.  of  the 
Rose :  "  a  fruict  of  savour  wicke." 

322.  South-west.  Southerly  winds  are  associated  by  S.  with 
fog,  rain,  and  unwholesome  vapours.  Cf.  A.  Y.  L.  iii.  5.  50,  Cor, 
ii.  3.  34,  Cymb.  ii.  3.  136,  etc. 

325.  Urchins.  Mischievous  elves.  Cf.  AI.  W.  iv.  4.49:  "ur- 
chins, ouphes  (elves),  and  fairies."  They  were  probably  called  so 
because  they  sometimes  took  the  form  of  urchins,  or  hedgehogs. 
Cf.  Caliban's  account  of  Prospero's  spirits  in  ii.  2.  5  fol.  below. 

326.  That  vast  of  night.  That  void,  waste,  or  empty  stretch. 
In  //am.  i.  2.  198,  the  quarto  of- 1603  has  "  In  the  dead  vast  and 
middle  of  the  night." 


Scene  II]  Notes  I 


4i 


328.  Honeycomb.  Plural  (as  made  up  of  cells)  ;  used  by  S.  only 
here. 

332.   Mad^st.     See  on  271  above. 

333-  Water  with  berries  in  V.  Wright  remarks :  "  It  would 
almost  seem  as  if  this  were  intended  as  a  description  of  the  yet 
little-known  coffee.  '  The  Turkes,'  says  Burton  (^Anatomy  of  Mel- 
ancholy, part  ii.),  '  haue  a  drinke  called  coffa  (for  they  use  no  wine), 
su  named  of  a  berry  as  blacke  as  soot,  and  as  bitter,  (like  that 
blacke  drink  which  was  in  vse  amongst  the  Lacedemonians,  and 
perhaps  the  same)  which  they  sip  still  of,  and  sup  as  warme  as 
they  can  suffer.'  This  passage  occurs  for  the  first  time  in  the  fourth 
edition  of  Burton  which  was  printed  in  1632,  and  it  shows  that  the 
drink  was  as  yet  only  known  in  England  by  report."  But  cf.  the 
reference  to  berries  in  ii.  2.  160  below.  Strachey  in  his  descrip- 
tion of  Bermuda  (1610),  says  of  the  islands:  "They  are  full  of 
Shawes  of  goodly  ceder  .  .  .  the  berries  whereof,  our  men  seething, 
straining,  and  letting  stand  some  three  or  foure  days,  made  a  kind 
of  pleasant  drinke." 

334,  335.  The  bigger  light,  etc.  For  the  construction,  see  on  32 
above. 

337,    Place.     Probably  plural.     See  on  172  above. 

342.    Whiles.     Often  used  for  while. 

349.  Abhorred  slave,  etc.  The  folio  gives  this  speech  to  Mi- 
randa, and  Furness  believes  that  it  is  right;  but  I  am  inclined  to 
agree  with  the  great  majority  of  editors  that  the  speech  almost  cer- 
tainly belongs  to  Prospero.  For  the  discussion  of  the  subject,  see 
Furness,  p.  73. 

350.  Which.     Often  =  who.     See  on  7  above. 
359.    Confined  into  this  rock.     See  on  277  above. 

361.  On't.     Of  it.     See  on  87  above. 

362.  The  red  plague.  The  leprosy.  See  Leviticus,  xiii.  42,  43. 
Steevens  explains  it  as  the  erysipelas.  Kid  you  =  destroy  you.  Cf. 
Kich.  LL  V.  4.  1 1  :  "  will  rid  his  foe,"  and  3  LLeu.  VL.  v.  5.  67 :  «'  you 
have  rid  this  sweet  young  prince." 

THE  TEMPEST —  lO 


146 


Notes  [Act  i 


363.  T.earning  me  yo2ir  language.  Cf.  Cynnh.  \.  5.  12:  "Hast 
thou  not  learned  me  how  to  make  perfumes?"  In  old  English 
the  word  meant  to  leach  as  well  as  to  learn. 

364.  Thou'' rl  best.  QLJ.  T.  iii.  3.  13:  "Ay,  and  truly,  you  were 
best."  Originally  the  you  was  dative  (it  were  best  for  you)  but  it 
came  to  be  regarded  as  nominative. 

367.  Old  cramps.  Such  as  Caliban  had  had  before;  or  perhaps, 
cramps  like  those  of  age. 

368.  Aches.  The  noun  ache  used  to  be  pronounced  aitch,  but  the 
verb  ake  (as  it  is  often  printed).  Baret,  in  his  Alvearie  (15S0), 
says :  "  Ake  is  the  Vevbe  of  the  substantive  ach,  ch  being  turned 
into  ^."  That  the  noun  was  pronounced  like  the  name  of  the  letter 
k  is  evident  from  a  pun  in  Aliich  Ado,  iii.  4.  56 :  — 

"Beatrice.  .  .  .  By  my  troth,  I  am  exceeding  ill !  Heigh-ho! 
Margaret.  For  a  hawk,  a  horse,  or  a  husband  ? 
Beatrice.  For  the  letter  that  begins  them  all,  H." 

There  is  a  similar  joke  in  The  JVorld  runs  tipon  Wheels,  by  John 
Taylor,  the  Water-Poet :  "  Every  cart-horse  doth  know  the  letter  Cr 
eery  understandingly ;  and  //  hath  he  in  his  bones."  Boswell  quotes 
an  instance  of  this  pronunciation  from  Swift,  and  Dyce  one  from 
Blackmore,  a.d.  1705.  When  John  Kemble  first  played  Prospero  in 
London,  he  pronounced  aches  in  this  passage  as  a  dissyllable,  which 
gave  rise  to  a  great  dispute  on  the  subject  among  critics.  During 
this  contest  Mr.  Kemble  was  laid  up  with  sickness,  and  Mr.  Cooke 
took  his  place  in  the  play.  Everybody  listened  eagerly  for  his  pro- 
nunciation of  aches,  but  he  left  the  whole  line  out ;  whereupon  the 
following  appeared  in  the  papers  as  "  Cooke's  Soliloquy"  :  — 

"  Aitches  or  akes,  shall  I  speak  both  or  either  ? 
\iakes  I  violate  my  Shakespeare's  measure  — 
\i aitches  I  shall  give  King  Johnny  pleasure; 
I've  hit  upon  't  —  by  Jove,  I'll  utter  neither!" 

It  is  curious  that  this  old  pronunciaticm  cf  the  noun  acJie  should 
have  seemed  peculiar  to  the  critics,  since  it  differs  from  that  of  the 


Scene  II]  Notes  I47 

verb  as  certain  other  nouns  do.  For  another  instance  see  h'ne  428 
below :  "  I  am  the  best  of  them  tb.at  speak  this  speech^  Cf.  break 
and  breach,  'Make  and  watch,  bake  and  batch,  make  and  match,  etc. 
Observe  that  the  verb  has  the  k  and  the  noun  the  ch,  as  in  ake  and 
ache  (old  pronunciation).  It  is  strange  that  in  this  last  pair  the 
distinction  should  not  have  been  preserved. 

369.  That.  So  that ;  as  in  85  above.  Pray  thee  =  I  pray  thee  ; 
as  often. 

371.  Setebos.  S.  probably  got  this  name  from  the  account  of 
Magellan's  voyages  in  Robert  Eden's  History  of  Travaile  (a.D. 
1577),  where  it  is  said  of  the  Patagonians  that  "they  roared  lyke 
buUes,  and  cryed  uppon  their  great  devill,  Setebos,  to  help  them." 
Malone  says  that  Setebos  is  also  mentioned  in  Hakluyt's  Voyages, 
1598. 

375.  Curtsied.  So  spelled  in  the  folios.  Curtsy  and  courtesy 
are  two  forms  of  the  same  word,  both  found  in  the  folio.  In  a 
single  speech  in  J.  C.  (iii.  i.  35  fob),  we  have  "courtesies"  and 
"  curtsies." 

And  kiss' d  The  wild  waves  whist.  That  is,  kissed  the  wild  waves 
into  silence ;  a  touch  of  poetry  that  is  quite  lost  as  the  passage  is 
often  printed,  the  line  The  wild  waves  tvhist  being  made  paren- 
thetical. As  Allen  suggests,  the  waves  may  be  supposed  to  become 
still  when  the  nymphs  kiss  each  other  at  the  beginning  of  the  dance. 
Whist  is  the  participle  of  the  old  verb  whist,  which  is  found  both 
transitive  and  intransitive.  Lord  Surrey  translates  the  first  line  of 
book  ii.  of  the  Mneid :  "They  whisted  all,  with  fixed  face  attent." 
Cf.  Spenser,  F.  Q.  vii.  7.  59  :  "  So  was  the  Titanesse  put  downe  and 
whist."     Milton  {Hymn  on  iVativ.)  has  the  same  rhyme  as  nere :  — 

"  The  winds  with  wonder  whist 
Smoothly  the  waters  kiss'd." 

377.  Foot  itfeatly.  Dexterously,  neatly.  Dyce  quotes  Lodge's 
Glaucus  and  Scilla  (1589):  "Footing  it  featlie  on  the  grassie 
ground."     Cf.  W.  T.  iv.  4.  1 76:  "she  dances  featly."     We  have 


148  Notes  [Act  I 

the  adjective  (used  adverbially)  below,  ii.  i.  268:  "much  feater 
than  before";  and  the  verb  in  Cynih.  i.  1.  49:  "a  glass  that  feated 
them." 

386.  Where  should  this  music  he?  Should  \^&s,  used  in  direct 
questions  about  the  past  vi^here  shall  was  used  about  iht  future. 

389.  Weeping  again.  That  is,  again  and  again.  Cf.  M.  of  V. 
iii.  2.  205  :  "  For  wooing  here  until  I  sweat  again." 

391.  Passion.  Sorrow;  as  often.  Cf.  Z.  Z.  Z.  v.  2.  1 18  :  "pas- 
sion's solemn  tears,"  etc. 

392.  With  it's  sweet  air.  In  the  folio  its  occurs  but  once  (J/. 
for  M.  i.  2.  4),  while  ifs  is  found  nine  times.  It  as  a  genitive  (or 
"possessive")  is  found  fourteen  times,  in  seven  of  which  it  precedes 
own.  This  it  is  an  early  provincial  form  of  the  old  genitive.  In 
our  version  of  the  Bible  its  is  found  only  in  Leviticus,  xxv.  5,  where 
the  original  edition  has  "  of  it  own  accord."     Cf.  95  above. 

395.  Full  fathom  five.  The  folio  has  "  fadom,"  which  some 
prefer  to  retain.  In  A.  Y.  L.  iv.  I.  210  the  folio  has  "  fathome." 
For  the  singular  form,  cf.  year  in  53  above.  We  have  fathoms  in 
V.  I.  55  below.  The  musical  setting  of  this  song,  and  of  Ariel's  in 
act  v.,  by  R.  Johnson,  is  probably  that  which  was  used  when  the 
play  was  first  performed.  It  is  preserved  in  Wilson's  Cheerful  Ayres 
or  Ballads  (1660),  and  is  reprinted  by  Furness. 

396.  Of  his  bones  are  coral  made.  S.  may  have  written  are  to 
avoid  the  harshness  of  "  bones  is,"  but  the  inaccuracy  is  probably 
a  "  confusion  of  proximity." 

397.  Those  are  pearls,  etc.  In  Rich.  IH.  iv.  4.  322  we  have 
tears  "  transform'd  to  orient  pearl." 

403.   Ding-dong,  bell.     Cf.  the  Song  in  M.  of  F.  iii.  2. 

405.  Nor  no  sound.  Double  negatives  (with  negative  sense) 
were  formerly  good  English  ;  but  their  logical  force  as  affirmatives 
was  not  unknown.  Cf.  7'.  A^.  v.  i.  24:  "if  your  four  negatives 
make  your  two  affirmatives,"  etc. 

406.  Owes  =  owns  ;    as  in  453  and  iii.  I.  45  below. 

407.  The  fringed  curtains  of  thine  eyes.     Cf.  Per.  iii.   2.   loi : 


Scene  II]  Notes  149 

"  her  eyelids  Begin  to  part  their  fringes  of  bright  gold."     Advance 
=  raise  ;   as  in  iv.  i.  177  below. 

410.  A  brave  form.  The  word  brave  did  much  service  in  the 
time  of  S.  to  express  what  was  tine,  beautiful,  gallant,  etc. 

413.  And,  but.     And,  except  that,  etc. 

414.  Canker.  Canker-worm  ;  a  favourite  metaphor  with  S.  Cf. 
V.  and  A.  656,  Sonn.  35.  4,  70.  7,  95.  2,  etc. 

420.  Most  sure,  the  goddess.  Cf.  the  0  dea  certe  of  Virgil  (^Ain. 
i.  328). 

421.  Vouchsafe  my  prayer  May  knoiu  .  .  .  and  that  you  will. 
Here  we  have  that  omitted  and  then  inserted,  as  often.  Cf.  Rich. 
II.  V.  I.  38  :  "Think  I  am  dead,  and  that  even  here,"  etc. 

426.    Maid.     A  maid,  and  not  2.  goddess. 

430.  Ihou.  "The  language  of  a  lord  to  a  servant,  of  an  equal 
to  aii.  equal,  and  expressing  companionship,  love,  permission,  defi- 
ance, scorn,  threatening ;  while  ye  [or  you'\  is  the  language  of  a 
servant  to  a  lord,  and  of  comphment,  and  further  expresses  honour, 
submission,  entreaty  "  (Skeat).  A  master  finding  fault  with  a  ser- 
vant often  resorts  to  the  unfamiliar  _j'oz<  (Abbott).  But  sometimes, 
as  Furness  suggests,  euphony  appears  to  decide  the  choice. 

431.  A  single  thing.  A  feeble  thing.  Cf.  Macb.  i.  3.  140: 
"shakes  so  my  single  state  of  man";  Id.  i.  6.  16:  "poor  and 
single  business,"  etc. 

437.  His  brave  son.  This  son  is  not  one  of  the  dratnatis persona:, 
nor  is  he  elsewhere  mentioned  in  the  play.  Some  beheve  that  he 
may  have  been  taken  from  the  story  on  which  the  play  was  possibly 
founded.  Staunton  conjectures  that  he  was  one  of  the  characters 
as  the  play  was  first  written,  but  was  omitted  when  it  was  printed. 
He  thinks  that  each  player  had  a  property  in  his  own  part,  and 
that  sometimes  all  the  parts  could  not  be  bought  up  by  the  pub- 
lishers. Fleay  suggests  that  "  perhaps  Francisco  is  what  is  left  of 
him."  It  had  occurred  to  me,  long  before  Fleay's  Manual  was 
published,  that  Francisco  might  be  Antonio's  son  ;  and  an  exami- 
nation of  the  two  speeches  assigned  to  him  confirms  the  conjecture, 


150  Notes  [Act  I 

In  the  first  (ii.  I.  121  fol.)  there  is  something  of  youthful  sympathy 
with  the  muscular  energy  of  youth,  and  of  youthful  hopefulness  as 
well.  The  other  speech  (iii.  3.  40)  is  the  single  sentence,  "  They 
vanish'd  strangely,"  when  the  spirits  that  have  spread  the  banquet 
disappear  ;    and  this  seems  like  the  expression  of  youthful  wonder. 

43S.  J]Iore  brave)'.  See  on  19  above.  Control  tkce  =^  conixxiQ 
thee. 

440.  Changed  eyes.  Exchanged  looks  of  love.  Cf.  A,  and  C. 
iii.  13.  156. 

442.  Done  yourself  some  wrong.  Misrepresented  yourself.  Cf. 
M.  IV.  iii.  3.  221  :   "You  do  yourself  mighty  wrong,  Master  Ford." 

445.  Pity  move  my  father.  An  example  of  "  the  subjunctive 
used  optatively." 

446.  0,  if  a  virgin,  etc.     The  ellipsis  is  not  uncommon. 

449.  hi  eitherh.  In  each  other's ;  as  in  Soiin.  28.  5,  Hen-  V. 
ii.  2.  io6,  etc. 

452.  That  thou  attend  me.  The  subjunctive  after  verbs  of  com- 
mand and  entreaty  is  common.  For  the  transitive  use  of  attend  in 
this  sense,  cf.  M.  of  V.  v.  i.  103  :  "  When  neither  is  attended,"  etc- 

453.  Owest  not.     Ownest  not.     Cf.  406  above. 

455.  On  V.     See  on  87  above. 

456.  There's  nothing  ill  can  dwell.  The  omission  of  the  relative 
is  very  common  in  Elizabethan  English. 

460.  /'//  fnanade  thy  neck  and  feet  together.  A  mode  of  punish- 
ment in  the  time  of  S. 

467.  Gentle,  and  not  fearful.  Of  gentle  blood,  and  therefore  no 
coward.  Smollett  (in  Humphrey  Clinker)  says  :  "To  this  day  a 
Scotch  woman  in  the  situation  of  the  young  lady  in  The  Tempest 
would  express  herself  nearly  in  the  same  terms  —  Don't  provoke 
him ;  for,  being  gentle,  that  is,  high-spirited,  he  won't  tamely  bear 
an  insult."  Ritson  takes  the  meaning  to  l)e:  "mild  and  harndess, 
and  not  in  the  least  terrible  or  dangerous";  and  lie  may  be  right, 
as  Furness  suggests. 

468.  My  foot  my  tutor  ?    "  Shall  my  heel  teach  my  head  ?   Shall 


Scene  II]  Notes  151 

that  which  I   tread   upon  give  me   law  ?"  (Verplanck).     Wright 
quotes  T,  of  A,\.  i.  94  :  — 

"  To  show  Lord  Timoa  that  mean  eyes  have  seen 
The  foot  above  the  head." 

470.  Come  from  thy  ward.  Leave  thy  posture  of  defence. 
IVard  was  a  technical  term  in  fencing.  Cf.  i  Hen.  IV.  \\.  4.  215  : 
"  Thou  knowest  my  old  ward ;   here  I  lay,  and  thus  I  bore  my  point." 

472.  Beseech  yoii,  father  !     See  on.  pray  thee,  369  above. 

477.  There  is  no  more  such  shapes.  The  reading  of  the  folio, 
changed  by  many  editors  to  "  there  are."  But  "there  is  "  is  often 
found  preceding  a  plural  subject.  Cf.  Cymb.  iii.  i.  36  :  "There  is 
no  moe  such  Ccesars";  Id.  iv.  2.  371:  "There  is  no  more  such 
masters,"  etc. 

4S3.  Nerves.  Sinews  ;  the  only  meaning  that  Schmidt  recog- 
nizes in  S.     Cf.  Ham.  i.  4.  83,  Macb.  iii.  4.  102,  Sonn.  120.  4,  etc. 

4S7.  N^or  this  man's  threats.  Either  a  "  confusion  of  construc- 
tion "  (Wright),  or  an  instance  (not  infrequent)  of  the  omission  of 
neither  before  nor  (Furness) . 

490.  All  corners  else  o"  the  earth.  All  other  parts.  Cf.  M.  of  V. 
ii.  7.  39:  "the  four  corners  of  the  earth"  (so  in  Isaiah  xi.  12), 
Cymb.  iii.  4.  39 :  "  all  corners  of  the  world,"  etc.  In  K.  John  (v.  7. 
116)  we  find  "  the  three  coiners  of  the  world." 


ACT  II 


Scene  I.  —  3.  Otirhintofwoe.  The  cause  of  our  sori  ow.  See 
on  i.  2.  134  above. 

5.  The  masters  of  some  merchant.  This  is  the  reading  of  the 
folio,  and  probably  what  S.  wrote.  The  first  merchant  means  a 
merchant  vessel,  or  merchantman,  as  we  say  even  now.  Malone 
quotes  Dryden  {Parallel  of  Poetry  and  Painting)  :  "  Thus  as  con- 
voy-ships either  accompany  'ir  should  accompany  their  merch-'.nts." 


152  Notes  [Act  II 

Masters  is  probably  =  owners.  Various  emendations  have  been 
proposed. 

II.  The  visitor.  An  allusion  to  priestly  visitants  of  the  sick  or 
afflicted.     Cf.  Matthew,  xxv.  36. 

15.  One  ;  tell.  Some  see  a  play  on  one  and  on  (that  'v&,  go  on), 
the  two  words  being  pronounced,  and  sometimes  written,  alike. 
TV// =  count.  We  still  say  "all  told,"  "wealth  untold,"  "to  tell 
one's  beads,"  etc.,  and  a  teller  is  one  .who  counts  (money,  votes, 
etc.). 

19.  Dolour.  Cf.  the  same  j)lay  upon  words  in  J)I.  for  J\f.  i.  2.  50 
and  Lear,  ii.  4.  54.  Steevens  quotes  The  Tragedy  of  Hoffman, 
1637:  — 

"  And  his  reward  be  thirteen  himdred  dollars, 
For  he  hath  driven  dolour  from  our  heart." 

29.  Which,  of  he  or  Adrian.  This  is  the  reading  of  the  folio. 
Cf.  M.  N.  D.  iii.  2.  337 :  — 

"  Now  follow,  if  thou  dar'st,  to  try  whose  right, 
Of  thine  or  mine,  is  most  in  Helena." 

Walker  quotes  from  Sidney's  Arcadia  :  "  Who  should  be  the  former 
[that  is,  the  first  to  fight]  against  Phalantus,  of  the  black  cr  the  ill- 
apparelled  knight."  S.  often  confounds  the  cases  of  personal  pro- 
nouns. Cf.  R.  and  J.  iii.  5.  84:  "  no  man  like  he  ";  A.  and  C.  iii. 
13.  98:  "the  hand  of  she  here,"  etc. 

32.    llie  cockerel.     The  young  cock  ;   that  is,  Adrian. 

34.  A  laughter.  T>r.  lr\^Qhy  (^Shakespeare Herjneneutics,^.  le^"]) 
remarks  that  we  want  a  "  basis  "  for  the  pun  here.  ^^Laughter,"  he 
adds,  "  may  be  the  cant  name  of  some  small  coin  (a  doit  or  a  denier) 
commonly  laid  in  betting.  At  present  the  only  meaning  of  the 
word  (laughter,  lafter,  lawter')  is  a  setting  of  eggs  laid  at  one  time. 
The  word  is  in  Brockett  S^Glossary  of  iVorth- Country  IVords],  and 
is  still  in  provincial  use  :  a  gamekeeper  at  Yoxford,  Suffolk,  told 
us  that  he  found   he  had  better  luck  with  the  second  la-cvter  (of 


Scene  I]  Notes  I  ^^ 

pheasant's  eggs)  than  with  the  first."  HaUiwell-PhilHpps  {Archaic 
Diet.)  gives  lafter  as  a  Northern  word  for  "  the  number  of  eggs 
laid  by  a  hen  before  she  sits." 

37.  Ha,  ha,  ha  !  The  foHo  gives  this  speech  to  Sebastian,  and 
So, you  ^re  paid  to  Antonio,  and  perhaps  there  is  no  need  of  change. 
On  the  whole,  however,  I  prefer  to  follow  White,  who  simply  trans- 
puses  the  prefixes  of  the  speeches  on  the  ground  that  "Antonio 
won  the  wager,  and  was  paid  by  having  the  laugh  against  Sebas- 
tian." 

44.  Temperance.  Temperature.  Antonio  takes  up  the  word  as 
a  female  name,  and  it  was  so  used  by  the  Puritans. 

55.  Lush.  Juicy,  succulent,  luxuriant.  Not  elsewhere  used  by 
S.,  though  some  read  in  M.  N.  D.  ii.  i.  251,  "Quite  overcanopied 
with  lush  woodbine  "  whce  the  folio  has  "  luscious."  Lusty  = 
vigorous. 

58.  An  eye  of  gi-een.  A  tinge  of  green.  Boyle  says,  "  Red,  with 
an  eye  of  blue,  makes  a  purple."  Wright  quotes  Cotgrave,  />-. 
Diet. :  "  Couleur  de  Minime.  A  huswiues  darke  gray,  or  light 
soote  colour,  wherein  there  is  an  eye  of  gray";  and  Sandys, 
Travels:  "cloth  of  silver  tissued  with  an  eye  of  greene." 

67.  Freshness  and  glosses.  The  folio  has  "  freshnesse  and  glosses." 
Freshness  may  be  plural,  like  princess  in  i.  2.  1 73  ;  or,  more  likely, 
glosses  should  be  "  gloss,"  as  Dyce  reads. 

69.  Lf  but  07ie  of  his  pockets,  etc.  A  joke  or  quibble  of  which  no 
plausible  explanation  has  been  suggested.  Perhaps  it  is  introduced 
merely  to  prepare  the  way  for  the  pocket  up  that  follows. 

80.  A  paragon  to  their  queen.  J"or  their  queen.  Cf. /.  C.  iii.  i. 
143:  "I  know  that  we  shall  have  him  well  to  friend;  "  Rich.  II. 
iv.  I.  306:  "  I  have  a  king  here  to  my  flatterer;"  also  Mattheiv,  iii. 
u,  Ltike,  iii.  8,  etc.  Below  (iii.  3.  54)  we  find  "  that  hath  to  instru- 
ment this  lower  world." 

83.  Widow  Dido.  The  title  of  a  popular  song  of  that  day.  See 
Percy's  Reliques,  or  Child's  English  and  Scottish  Ballads,  vol.  vii. 
p.  207. 


154  Notes  [Act  II 

87.  Study  of  thai.  Study  about  that  ;  wonder  what  you  mean 
by  it.     We  find  study  on  in  A.  and  C.  v.  2.  10. 

91.  The  miraculous  harp.  An  allusion  to  the  myth  of  Amphion, 
who  raised  the  walls  of  Thebes  by  the  power  of  his  music. 

loi.  Ay?  The  folio  has  "I."  (as  ay  is  always  printed  in  that 
ed.),  and  Herford,  retaining  the  period,  takes  it  as  addressed  to 
Adrian  in  reply  to  his  "  Carthage  ?  "  Staunton  gives  it  to  Alonso, 
as  an  exclamation  uttered  on  awakening  from  his  trance  of  grief. 

107.  Bate,  I  beseech,  etc.  I  beg  that  you  will  except  Widow 
Dido  (ironical,  of  course). 

114.  Against  the  stomach,  etc.  When  I  have  no  appetite  (or 
desire)  for  them.     See  on  i.  2.  157  above. 

117.  In  my  rale.  In  my  estimation  or  reckoning.  Cf.  i.  2.  92 
above. 

122-130.  /  saw  him  .  .  .  to  land.  Furness  strongly  doubts 
whether  S.  wrote  this  passage.     See  on  i.  2.  437  above. 

124.    IVkose  cmnity  he  Jlung  aside,  eic.     Qi.J.C.  i.  2.  107:  — 

"  The  torrent  roar'd,  and  we  did  buffet  it 
With  lusty  sinews,  throwing  it  aside, 
And  stemming  it  with  hearts  of  controversy." 

128.  His  wave-worn  basis.  His  for  its  ;  as  often  before  its  came 
into  general  use.     See  on  i.  2.  392  above. 

129.  /  not  doubt.  This  transposition  of  not  is  quite  common. 
See  below  (v.  I.  38),  "  whereof  the  ewe  not  bites,"  (113)  "  I  not 
know,"  and  (304)  "  I  not  doubt."     As  stooping  =  as  if  stooping. 

135.  Who  hath  cause  to  wet  the  grief  on  7.  Which  (the  eye)  hath 
cause  to  weep.  For  7vho,  see  on  i.  2.  7  above.  Cf.  2  Hen.  IV.  iv. 
3.  120:  "The  heart  Who  great  and  puff'd  up."  Some  make  who 
refer  to  she. 

136.  lmporlun\t.  Accented  on  tlic  second  syllable,  as  regularly 
in  S. 

139.  Which  end  0''  the  beam  she\l  bow.  The  folio  has  "should 
bow,"  which  is  probably  a  misprint  for  "  sh  'ould  bow." 


Scene  I]  Notes  155 

141.  Moe.  More;  as  in  v.  i.  234  below.  It  is  used  regularly 
with  plural  or  collective  nouns. 

144.  The  dearest  0'  the  loss.  "  Throughout  S.,  and  all  the  poets 
of  his  and  a  much  later  day,  we  find  this  epithet  (^dearest)  applied 
to  that  person  or  thing  which,  for  or  against  us,  excites  the  liveliest 
interest.  ...  It  may  be  said  to  be  equivalent  generally  to  very, 
and  to  import  the  excess,  the  utmost,  the  superlative,  of  that  to 
which  it  is  applied"  (Caldecott).  Cf.  "dearest  foe"  {^Ham.  i.  2. 
182),  etc.     See  also  v.  I.  146  below. 

148.    Chirurgeonly.     Like  a  surgeon  ;   used  by  S.  only  here. 

151.  Had  I  plantation.  There  is  a  play  on  the  word //a«/«/Z(?«. 
Gonzalo  uses  it  in  the  sense  of  colony  (cf.  Bacon,  Essay  33,  Of 
Plantations),  but  Antonio  takes  it  in  the  sense  oi planting. 

155.  /'  the  coinmoniveallh,  etc.  This  passage  is  evidently  copied 
from  Florio's  translation  of  Montaigne's  Essays,  published  in  1603. 
The  passage  reads  thus :  "  It  is  a  nation,  would  I  answere  Plato, 
that  hath  no  kinde  oftraffike,  no  knoivledge  of  Letters,  no  intelligence 
of  numbers,  no  na?ne  of  magistrate,  nor  of  politike  superioritie  ;  no 
use  of  service,  of  riches,  or  of  povertie  ;  no  contracts,  no  successions, 
no  dividences,  no  occupation,  but  idle  ;  no  respect  of  kindred,  but 
common;  no  apparell,  but  naturall;  no  manuring  of  lands;  no  use 
of  wine,  corn,  or  mettle.  The  very  words  that  import  lying,  false- 
hood, treason,  dissimulation,  covetousness,  envie,  detraction,  and 
pardon  were  never  heard  amongst  them."  ^ 

160.    Tilth.     Tillage,  or  tilled  land  ;  as  in  M.forM.  iv.  i.  76. 

1  The  original  reads :  "  C'est  une  nation,  diroy  ie  a  Platon,  en  laquelle 
il  n'y  a  aulcune  espece  de  trafique,  nulle  cognoissance  de  leitres,  nulle 
science  de  nombres,  nul  nom  de  magistral  ni  de  superiority  politique, 
nul  usage  de  service,  de  richesse  ou  de  pauvrete,  nuls  contracts,  nulles 
successions,  nuls  partages,  nulles  occupations  qu'  oysifves,  nul  respect 
de  parente  que  commun,  nuls  vestements,  nulle  agriculture,  nul  metal, 
nul  usage  de  vin  ou  de  bled ;  les  paroles  mesmes  qui  signifient  le  men- 
songe,  la  trahison,  la  dissimulation,  I'avarice,  I'envie,  la  detraction,  Ie 
pardon,  inouyes." 


156 


Notes  [Act  II 


l68.    Endeavour.     Labour,  exertion;  as  not  unfrequently. 

171.  Of  it  o%v  II  kind.  See  on  i.  2.  392  above,  /b/jow  =  plenty; 
as  in  iv.  I.  1 10  below.  The  word  is  French  {fuison  in  Old  French), 
the  L,z.iinfusio,  hova  /under e. 

176.  To  excel.  As  to  excel.  Cf.  JM.  of  V.  iii.  3.  9:  "  So  fond 
to  come  abroad,"  etc.     Save  ;  that  is,  Cod%z.\&. 

178.  Talk  nothing.  Talk  nonsense.  Cf. //aw.  iv.  5 .  1 74 :  "This 
nothing's  more  than  matter  "  (sense). 

181.  Sensible  and  nimble.  Sensitive  and  excitable.  Cf.  Ham. 
ii.  2.  337:  "the  clown  shall  make  those  laugh  whose  lungs  are 
tickle  o'  the  sere." 

1 88.  An  it  had  not  fallen  flat-long  That  is,  as  if  struck  with 
the  side  of  the  sword  instead  of  its  edge.  Tlatling  is  used  in  the 
same  sense  ;  as  in  Spenser,  F.  Q,  v.  5.  18:  "  Tho  with  her  sword 
on  him  she  flatling  strooke." 

190.  Sphere.  Alluding  to  the  Ptolemaic  astronomy;  according 
to  which  the  sun,  moon,  and  planets  were  fixed  in  hollow  crystal- 
line spheres,  by  whose  revolution  they  were  carried  about. 

192.  A  bat-fowling.  Bat-fowling  was  a  method  of  fowling  by 
night,  in  which  the  birds  were  started  from  their  nests  and  stupefied 
by  a  sudden  blaze  of  light.  Markhain,  in  his  Hunger'' s  Preuetition, 
or  the  Whole  Arte  of  Fowling,  says,  "  I  thinke  meete  to  proceed  to 
Batte-fowling,  which  is  likewise  a  nighty  taking  of  all  sorts  of  great 
and  small  Birdes  which  rest  not  on  the  earth,  but  on  Shrubbes, 
ial  Bushes,  Hathorne  trees,  and  other  trees,  and  may  fitly  and  most 
conueniently  be  used  in  all  woody,  rough,  and  bushy  countries,  but 
not  in  the  champaine."  Cf.  Browning,  Red  Cotton  iVightcap  Coun- 
try :  "  Bat-fowling  is  all  fair  with  birds  at  roost." 

194.  Adventure  my  discretion.  That  is,  venture  or  risk  my 
[character  for]  discretion.  Cf.  Cymb.  i.  6.  172:  "that  I  have 
adventur'd  To  try,"  etc. 

197.  Go  sleep,  and  hear  us.  Probably  =  Hear  us,  and  go  sleep. 
Cf.  ./.  Y.  L.  iii.  5.  7:   "dies  and  lives"  (lives  and  dies),  etc. 

201.    Omit  the  heavy  offer  of  it.     Neglect  the  offer  cf  its  heavi- 


Scene  I]  Notes  157 

ness.  Omit  often  means  to  pass  over,  lay  aside,  or  neglect;  as  in 
i.  2.  183  above.  Cf.  Oth.  ii.  i.  71  :  "  do  omit  their  mortal  natures;" 
M.forM.  iv.  3.  77:  "What  if  we  do  omit  This  reprobate  till  he 
were  well  inclin'd  ?  "  etc. 

214.  The  occasion  speaks  thee.  The  opportunity  appeals  to  thee. 
Cf.  Cor.  iii.  2.  41 :   "  when  extremities  speak,"  etc. 

223.    Wink' St.     Dost  shut  thine  eyes.     Cf.  292  below. 

227.  If  heed  jiie.  If  you  intend  to  heed  me.  Such  ellipses  in 
conditional  senses  are  common  in  S. 

228.  Trebles  thee  o'er.  That  is,  over  again.  Cf.  M.  of  V.  iii.  2. 
154:  "I  would  be  trebled  twenty  times  myself."  /  atn  standing 
xuater  =  I  am  passive,  ready  to  listen  to  you  and  to  be  influenced 
by  you.  He  already  guesses  what  Antonio  means,  and  cherishes 
the  purpose  while  he  mocks  it.  Steevens  quotes  the  following  from 
the  Edinburgh  Magazine  for  November,  17S6:  "Sebastian  intro- 
duces the  simile  of  water.  It  is  taken  up  by  Antonio,  who  says  he 
will  teach  his  stagnant  water  to  flow.  '  It  has  already  learned  to 
ebb,'  says  Sebastian.  To  which  Antonio  replies,  'O,  if  you  but 
knew  how  much  even  that  metaphor,  which  you  use  in  jest,  encour- 
ages to  the  design  which  I  hint  at ;  how,  in  stripping  the  words  of 
their  common  meaning,  and  using  them  figuratively,  you  adapt 
them  to  your  own  situation ! '  "     On  ebbing  men,  cf.  A.  and  C.  i. 

3-  43- 

236.  Proclaim,  etc.     Announce  some  important  communication. 

239.  7 his  lord  of  weak  remembrance,  etc.  "  This  lord  who, 
being  now  in  his  dotage,  has  outlived  his  faculty  of  remembering  ; 
and  who,  once  laid  in  the  ground,  shall  be  as  little  remembered 
himself  as  he  can  now  remember  other  things"  (Johnson). 

242.  He''s  a  spirit  of  persuasion,  etc.  Johnson  could  "draw  no 
sense  "  from  "  this  entangled  sentence,"  but  there  seems  to  be  no 
special  difficulty  in  it.  The  parenthesis  is  clearly  marked  in  the 
folio,  thus  :  — 

"  (For  hee's  a  Spirit  of  perswasion,  onely 
Professes  to  perswade)  the  King  his  Sonne's  a  Hue,"  etc. 


158 


Notes  [Act  II 


The  reference  is  clearly  to  Gonzalo,  though  several   editors  have 
supposed  that  Francisco  (see  121  fol.  above)  is  meant. 

250.  But  doubts  (iisco-.icry  there.  B\it  dt)ubts  whether  there  is 
anything  to  be  discovered  there.  The  folio  has  "  doubt,"  which 
some  critics  think  may  be  retained  ;  "  but  doubt "  being  con- 
sidered equal  to  "  without  doubting,"  or  the  "  can  not "  being 
mentally  carried  on  :   "  [can  not]  but  doubt  discovery  there." 

254.  Beyond  mail's  life.  An  obvious  and  intentional  hyperbole. 
Hunter  (^Neiv  Illustrations,  vol.  i.  p.  166)  thinks  that  Man's  Life 
is  probably  the  translation  of  the  name  of  some  African  city,  and 
finds  an  ancient  city,  named  Zoa  (Greek  for  "  Life  "),  not  far  from 
Tunis. 

255.  Can  have  no  note.  Can  receive  no  information.  Cf. 
Bacon,  Essay,  49 :  "  that  if  Intelligence  of  the  Matter  could  not 
otherwise  have  beene  had  but  by  him,  Advantage  bee  not  taken  of 
the  Note,  but  the  Partie  left  to  his  other  Meanes."  Post  =  messen- 
ger ;   as  in  M.  of  V.  ii.  9.  100,  etc. 

256.  The  man  V  the  moon.  This  is  one  of  the  oldest  of  popular 
superstitions.  According  to  one  version,  the  man  who  gathered 
sticks  on  the  Sabbath  {^Ahimbers,  xxv.  32  fol.)  was  imprisoned  in 
the  moon  ;  but  another  tradition  made  this  personage  to  be  Cain. 
In  the  Testament  of  Cresseid  (written  by  Henryson,  but  sometimes 
ascribed  to  Chaucer)  we  find  the  following  in  a  description  of  the 
moon  (Laing's  ed.,  1865)  :  — 

"  Hir  gyse  was  gray,  and  full  of  spottis  blak, 
And  on  hir  breist  ane  churle  paintit  ful  evin, 
Beirand  ane  bunche  of  thornis  on  his  bak, 
Quhilk  for  his  tliift  micht  dim  na  nar  the  hcvin." 

It  will  be  recollected  that  the  man  in  the    moon    is    one   of  the 
characters  in  the  clowns'  play  in  M.  N.  D. 

257.  She  from  whom.  That  is,  in  coming  from  whom.  The 
folio  has  "  She  that  from  whom,"  which  a  few  editors  retain.  The 
emendation  is  Ruwc's,  and  is  generally  a(lo])ted. 


Scene  I]  Notes  159 

261.  /;/  yours  and  my  discharge.  Is  in  yours,  etc. ;  that  is, 
"depends  on  what  you  and  I  are  to  perform  "  (Steevens).  "Act 
and  prologue  being  technical  terms  of  the  stage,  disc/iargf  also  is  so 
to  be  understood,  as  in  Af.  N.  D.  i.  2.  95  :  'I  will  discharge  it  in  either 
your  straw-colour  beard,'  etc."  (Phila.  e  1.).  Cf.  Macb.  1.3.  128= 
For  the  use  of  yours  here,  cf.  7nine  in  iii.  3.  93.  See  also  Cymb.  v. 
5.  186:  "  By  hers  and  mine  adultery,"  etc. 

266.  Measure  us  back.  Us  refers  to  that  which  is  supposed  to 
"cry  out,"  or  "  every  culiit." 

269.    There  be  that,  etc.     There  are  those  who,  etc. 

272.  Could  make  A  chough  of  as  deep  chat.  Could  train  a  chough 
to  talk  as  wisely.  Cf.  A.  IV.  iv.  i.  22:  "chough's  language,  gabble 
enough,  and  good  enough."  Yarrel  (^History  0/  British  Birds) 
observes  that  in  the  description  of  Dover  Cliff  ("The  crows  and 
choughs  that  wing  the  midway  air,"  Lear,  iv.  6.  13),  "  possibly  S. 
meant  jackdaws,  for  in  the  M.  N'.  D.  [iii.  2.  21]  he  speaks  of 
'  russet-pated  '  (gray-headed)  choughs,  which  term  is  applicable 
to  the  jackdaw,  but  not  to  the  real  chough." 

276.  How  does  your  content  Tender,  €^c.  How  does  your  favour-- 
able  judgment  regard,  etc.  For  tender  —  regard,  value,  cf.  Hen.  V. 
ii.  2.  1 75  :  "  But  we  our  kingdom's  safety  must  so  tender  " ;  A.  V.  L. 
v.  2.  77 :   "  By  my  life,  I  do  ;   which  I  tender  dearly,"  etc. 

280.  Much  feater.  Much  more  neatly  or  trimly.  See  on  i.  2. 
377  above.     S.  often  uses  adjectives  as  adverbs. 

283.  If  U  luere  a  kibe,  etc.  If  it  were  a  sore  heel,  it  would  make 
me  exchange  my  boot  for  a  slipper.  Cf.  Ham.  v.  i.  153:  "the  toe 
of  the  peasant  comes  so  near  the  heel  of  the  courtier,  he  galls  his 
kibe." 

286.  Candied.  Congealed  (Schmidt);  as  in  T.  of  A.  iv.  2.  226: 
"  Candied  with  ice,"  etc.  Wright  explains  it  as  "  sugared  over, 
and  so  insensible " ;  but  melt  conhrms  the  other  meaning.  So 
discandy  =  ra^i,  in  A.  and  C.  iii.  13.  165:  "the  discandying  of 
this  pelleted  storm  "  (hail  storm). 

292.    Wink.     See  on  223  above;  and  cf.   IV.  T.  i.  2.  317. 


i6o  Notes  LAct  A 

293.  Morsel  is  contemptuous  here.  Cf.  M.  for  M.  iii.  2.  57: 
"  How  doth  my  dear  morsel,  your  mistress  ?  "  P"or  Sir  Prudence, 
cf.  M.  ofV.  i.  I.  93  :  "  Sir  Oracle  ";  W.  T.  i.  2.  196:  "  Sir  Smile," 
etc. 

294.  Should  not  upbraid.     Would  not,  etc. 

295.  Suggestion.  Temptation,  "hint  of  villainy"  (Johnson). 
Cf.  iv.  I.  26  below.  The  verb  is  likewise  used  in  the  sense  of 
tempt  ;  as  in  T.  G.  of  V.  iii.  i.  34:  "  Knowing  that  tender  youth  is 
soon  suggested,"  etc. 

296.  Tell.     See  on  15  above. 

299.  ril  come  by  Naples.  Cf.  iM.  of  V.  \.  1.4:  "  But  how  I 
caught  it,  found  it,  or  came  by  it." 

302.  When  I  rear  my  hand.  Cf. /.  C.  iii.  i.  30:  "Casca,  you 
are  the  first  that  rears  your  hand." 

303.  To  fall  it.  The  transitive  use  of  fall'is  common  in  S.  Cf. 
V.  1 .  64  below. 

306.  To  keep  them  living.  The  folio  reading.  Dyce  changes 
them  to  "thee."  This  is  plausible;  but,  as  Wright  suggests,  "Ariel 
is  half  apostrophizing  the  sleeping  Gonzalo,  and  half  talking  to 
himself."     Furness  adopts  this  explanation. 

308.  Open-eyed.  Wakeful  and  watching ;  antithetical  to  .f;/(7;-?7;^ 
(=  sleeping). 

313-316.  A"ow  .  .  .  matter?  We  adopt  the  arrangement  of 
speeches  given  by  Staunton  and  approved  by  Furness.  The  folio 
reads  thus :  — 

"  Gon.    Now,  good  Angels  preserue  the  King. 
Alo.   Why  how  now  hoa ;  awake  ?  why  are  you  drawn  ?  wherefore 
this  ghastly  looking  ? 

Gon.   What's  the  matter  ?  " 

Cf.  what  Gonzalo  says  in  324-328  below. 

315,  IVhy  ar'.  you  drawn?  Why  are  your  swords  drawn? 
Cf.  R.  and f.  i.  i.  73:  "  What,  art  thou  drawn  among  these  heart- 
less hinds?"     See  also  ]\I.  N.  D,  iii.  2.  402  and  Hen.  ]\  ii.  i.  39. 


Scene  II]  Notes  l6l 

321.   A  monster's  ear.     That  is,  even  a  monster's  ear. 

326.  Shak'd.  S.  generally  uses  shook,  both  as  past  tense  and 
participle,  but  he  has  shaked  in  five  instances,  three  being  the 
participle. 

328.  That  'j  verily.  Cf.  Cor.  iv.  i.  53:  "That's  worthily," 
etc.     Some  verb,  as  said  ox  done,  is  easily  understood. 

331.  77/^^1?  beasts.  Spoken  sarcastically,  with  an  indirect  refer- 
ence to  Antonio  and  Sebastian. 

Scene  II.  —  3.  By  inch-ineal.  Inch  by  inch.  We  still  have 
piecemeal  (not  used  by  S.),  but  inch-»ieal,  limb-meal  {^Cymb.  ii. 
4.  147:  "tear  her  limb-meal"),  (//"^Z-wifa/,  and  other  compounds 
of  the  kind  are  obsolete.  j\[eal  here  is  the  Anglo-Saxon  mcel 
(time,  portion)  used  adverbially,  not  nielu,  melo  (meal,  flour). 

5.    Urchin-shows.     Elfin  apparitions.     See  on  i.  2.  325  above. 

9.  Mow.  Make  faces.  Cf.  iv.  i.  47  below,  and  the  stage- 
direction  in  iii.  3.  82,  "  with  mocks  and  mows."  Not  from  mouth, 
as  some  have  made  it,  but  from  the  Fr.  moue  (pouting,  wry  face). 

10.  After.     Cf.  iii.  2.  154  below. 

11.  Mount  Their  pricks.  Raise  their  prickles.  Qi.  Hen.  VIII. 
i.  I.  144:  "The  fire  that  mounts  the  liquor  till  't  run  o'er;  "  and 
Td.  i.  2.  305  :   "  mounting  his  eyes." 

19.    At  all.     Modifying  bear  off,  not  weather, 

21.  Bombard.  Also  spelled  i5«w(5ar(//  a  large  flagon,  or  "black- 
jack," made  of  leather.  Cf.  i  Hen.  IV.  ii.  4.497:  "that  huge 
bombard  of  sack."  Foul  probably  means  black  with  age  and  de- 
cayed—  ready  to  fall  to  pieces,  and  hence  leaky. 

27.  Poor-John.  A  cant  name  for  salted  hake,  a  coarse  and 
cheap  kind  of  fish.  Cf.  R.  and  J.  i.  I.  37  :  "  'Tis  well  thou  art  not 
fish;  if  thou  hadst,  thou  hadst  been  poor  John."  So  in  Massinger's 
Renegado,  i.  i :  — 

"  To  feed  upon  poor-john,  when  I  see  pheasants 

And  partridges  on  the  table." 
THE  TEMPEST —  II 


i62  Notes  [Act  n 

In  Beaumont  and  Fletcher's  Scornful  Lady  (ii.  3),  "pitch  anu 
poor-john  "  are  mentioned  as  the  foul  odours  of  Thames  Street, 
London,  where  ISiUingsgate  Market  is. 

31.  Make  a  man.  That  is,  make  his  fortune.  Cf.  J/.  iV.  D. 
iv.  2.  18,  I  Hen.  IV.  ii.  2.  60,  etc. 

32.  Doit.     The  smallest  of  coins.     Cf.  M.  of  V.  i.  3.  141,  etc. 

33.  A  dead  Indian.  Cf.  57  below:  "  savages  and  men  of  Ind." 
There  may  be  an  allusion  to  the  Indians  brought  home  by  Sir 
Martin  Frobisher  in  1576,  or  to  later  instances  of  the  kind. 

35.  Warm.  Here  Trinculo  touches  the  supposedy?^^,  and  finds 
it  warjn,  which  a  fish  could  not  be. 

39.   Gaberdine.     A  loose  frock.     Cf.   iii  below  and  M.  of  V. 

i.  3-  "3- 

41.  Shroud.  lake  shelter.  Both  noun  and  verb  were  thus 
used.  Cf.  A.  ana  C.  iii.  13.  71  :  "  Put  yourself  under  his  shroud" 
(his  protection).  See  also  Milton,  Comus,  147:  "Run  to  your 
shrouds";  and  316:  "Or  shroud  within  these  limits";  Spenser, 
F.  Q.  i.  I.  8:  "Which,  therein  shrouded  from  the  tempest  dred," 
etc. 

47.  Swabber.  One  who  s'wabs  or  mops  the  decks.  Cf.  T.  N. 
i.  5.  217. 

58.  Scaped.  Not  to  be  printed  "  'scaped,"  scape  being  found  in 
prose,  both  as  verb  and  noun. 

60.  Proper,  Comely,  gootl-looking  ;  as  often.  Cf.  Hebrews, 
xi.  23. 

62.  At  nostrils.  In  the  folio  this  is  printed  "  at'  nostrils,"  and 
may  be  a  misprint  for  "  at  's  nostrils";  but  the  article  is  often  thus 
omitted  in  adverbial  phrases. 

69.  Ever  trod  on  neat''s-leather.  CL  J.  C.  i.  I.  29:  "As  proper 
men  as  ever  trod  upon  neat's-leather";  a  proverbial  expression 
which  Trinculo  cuts  in  two  (cf.  60  above). 

71.  Do  not  torment  me,  etc.  Meant  to  be  verse,  as  Caliban's 
speeches  regularly  are.  This  line  is  an  Alexandrine,  with  an  extrr 
syllable  \xv  prithee  and  m  faster. 


Scene  II]  Notes  1 63 

74.  Afore.  This  form  was  common  in  old  English,  and  so  was 
to-fore,  which  we  find  in  T.  A.  iii.  i.  294:  "  O,  would  thou  wert  as 
thou  to-fore  hast  been  !  " 

76.  /  will  not  lake  too  much  for  him.  That  is,  I  will  take  all  I 
can  get, 

78-80.  Thoti  dost  .  .  .  upon  thee.  This  speech  is  rhythmical, 
and  has  been  variously  arranged  as  verse  by  the  editors. 

79.  'rreiiihling.  Supposed  to  be  a  sign  of  magical  "  possession." 
Cf.  C.  of  E.  iv.  4.  54. 

82.  Will  give  language  to  you,  cat.  Alluding  to  the  proverb, 
"  Good  liquor  will  make  a  cat  speak."  In  99  below  there  is  an 
allusion  to  the  proverb,  "  He  hath  need  of  a  long  spoon  that  eats 
with  the  devil."     Cf.  C.  of  E.  iv.  3.  64. 

94.  Amen.  An  attempt  at  prayer  for  protection  if  the  monster 
should  prove  to  be  a  devil. 

106.  Siege.  Stool,  excrement.  It  is  used  in  the  same  sense  by 
Ben  Jonson  and  Sir  Thomas  Browne.  S.  also  uses  it  in  the  sense 
of  seat  {M.  for  M.  iv.  2.  101  :  "  the  siege  of  justice  "),  and  of  rank, 
or  place  {Ham.  iv.  7.  77:  "the  unworthiest  siege";  Oik.  i.  2.  22: 
"  men  of  royal  siege  "). 

Moon-calf.  A  monstrosity,  supposed  to  be  occasioned  by  lunar 
influence.  In  Holland's  Pliny  (vii.  15)  we  find,  "  a  moone-calfe, 
that  is  to  say,  a  lump  of  flesh  without  shape,  without  life." 

115.  A^ot  constant.  Unsettled;  from  the  sack  he  has  been 
drinking. 

121.  Sack.  A  name  applied  to  Spanish  and  Canary  wines.  Cf. 
iii.  2.  13,  29  below. 

127.  Here;  stvear  then,  etc.  Addressed  to  Trinculo  ;  a  repeti- 
tion of  what  Stephano  has  said  above  (120).  The  speech  has  been 
much  discussed,  and  emendations  have  been  proposed. 

138.    When  time  was.     Formerly  ;   or  "  once  upon  a  time." 

140.  Thy  dog,  and  thy  bush.  See  on  ii.  I.  256  above.  The  bush 
was  the  bundle  of  sticks  connected  with  the  narrative  in  N^um 
bers,  XV.     Cf.  M.  N.  D.  iii.  i.  61  and  v.  i.  136. 


164 


Notes  [Act  II 


144.  Afeard.  Used  interchangeably  with  afraid,  and  not  lim- 
ited to  low  characters,     Cf.  Macb.  i.  7.  39,  etc. 

146.     Well  drawn,  monster.     A  good  draught,  monster. 

167.  Crabs.  Crab-apples.  "Roasted  crabs  "are  mentioned  in 
/,.  L.  L.  V.  2.  395  and  M.  N.  D.  ii.  i,  48.  Cf.  Lear,  i.  5.  16  :  "as 
like  this  as  a  crab  is  like  an  apple,"  etc. 

168.  Pig-nuts.  Also  called  earth-nuts,  hawk-nuts,  etc.  ;  the 
tuberous  root  of  Conopodium  denudatuin,  a  common  weed  in  Eng- 
land. It  is  of  a  pleasant  flavour,  improved  by  roasting,  but  is  "  not 
much  prized  in  England  except  by  pigs  and  children  "  (Ellacombe). 
S.  mentions  it  only  here. 

170.  Marmoset.  The  word  is  used  by  S.  only  here,  but  is  found 
in  Mandeville  and  other  early  writers. 

172.  Scamels.  This  is  the  reading  of  the  folio,  but  the  word  is 
found  nowhere  else  in  the  literature  of  that  day.  Some  have 
thought  it  a  diminutive  of  scam,  a  name  by  which  the  limpet  is  said 
to  be  known  in  some  parts  of  England  ;  others  read  "  sea-mells  " 
or  "sea-malls"  (the  latter  form  is  found  as  the  name  of  a  bird  in 
Holme's  Acad,  of  Armory,  1688)  ;  and  others  "  stannels "  or 
"  staniels."  Montague  (^Ornithological Diet.)  says  that  the  "  Kes- 
trel, Stannet,  or  Windhover  ...  is  one  of  our  most  common 
species  [of  hawks],  especially  in  the  tnore  rocky  situations  and  high 
cliffs  on  our  coasts,  where  they  breed."  The  bird  is  also  mentioned 
by  S.  in  T.  N.  ii.  5.  124  :  "  And  with  what  wing  the  staniel  checks 
at  it  !  "  At  least,  no  one  doubts  that  this  is  the  correct  reading, 
though  the  old  editions  print  "stallion."  Stevenson  {Birds  of  Nor- 
folk') says  that  the  female  bar-tailed  god  wit  is  called  a  "scammel" 
by  local  gunners  ;  and  the  Century  Diet,  assumes  that  S.  refers  to 
that  bird,  which,  however,  is  not  a  rock-breeder. 

175.  Inherit.  Take  possession.  Cf.  the  transitive  use  in  iv.  I. 
154  below. 

183.  Trenchering.  The  reading  of  the  folio,  changed  io  trencher 
by  most  of  the  editors;  but,  as  White  remarks,  "surely  they  must 
have  forgotten  that  Caliban  was  drunk,  and  after  singing  '  firing 


Scene  II]  Notes  165 

and  'requiring'  would  naturally  sing  'trenchering.'  There  is  a 
drunken  swiny  in  the  original  line,  which  is  entirely  lost  in  the  pre- 
cise, curtailed  rhythm  of  '  Nor  scrape  trencher,  nor  wash  dish.'  " 

186.  Heyday.  The  folios  have  "high-day";  corrected  by 
Rowe.  The  word  is  used  as  a  noun  in  Ham.  iii.  4.  69 :  "  the  hey- 
day in  the  blood." 


ACT    III 


Scene  I.  —  l.  Painful  =  requiring  pains,  or  laborious.  Cf.  Z. 
L.  L.  ii.  I,  23:  "painful  study";  T.  of  S,  v.  2.  149:  "painful 
labour  both  by  sea  and  land."  Fuller  {Holy  IVar,  v.  29)  speaks 
of  Joseph  as  "a  painful  carpenter,"  and  in  his  Holy  Stale  (ii.  6) 
he  says,  "  O  the  holiness  of  their  living,  and  painfulness  of  their 
preaching !  "     Cf.  fains  in  i.  2.  242. 

2.  Delight  in  them  sets  off.  Delight  is  the  subject  of  sets  off 
(=  offsets).  Cf.  Macb.  ii.  3.  55  :  "  The  labour  we  delight  in  physics 
pain." 

6,    The  tnistress  which.     See  on  i.  2.  350  above. 

II.  Sore  injunction.  That  is,  one  with  a  sore  or  grievous /<?«- 
ally.     For  sore,  cf.  v.  i.  289. 

15.  Most  busy,  least  when  I  do  it.  This  is  the  great  crux  of  the 
play.  No  passage  in  S.  has  been  the  subject  of  more  conjecture, 
and  yet  no  wholly  satisfactory  emendation  has  been  proposed. 
The  first  folio  reads,  "  Most  busie  lest,  when  I  doe  it  ;  "  the  other 
three  folios,  "  Most  busie  least,  when  I  do  it."  Theobald  gave 
"  Most  busie-less  when  I  do  it "  ;  and  Dr.  Johnson  puts  "  busiless  " 
into  his  Diet.,  citing  this  passage  to  justify  it.  The  editors  from 
Theobald  (1733)  down  to  the  Variorum  of  1821  adopted  "busi- 
less." The  difficulty  of  the  passage  is  well  shown  by  the  vacilla- 
tion of  the  best  modern  critics.  Dyce  in  his  2d  ed.  (1864)  says 
that  "  busiless  "  is  "  far  more  satisfactory,  on  the  whole,  than  any 
of  the  numerous  emendations  that  have  been  proposed"  ;  while  in 


1 66  Notes  [Act  III 

his  1st  ed.  (1S57)  he  doubts  "if  so  odd  a  compound  ever  occurred 
to  anybody  but  the  critic  himself."  Knight  in  1839  followed  Theo- 
bald, but  in  1S64  he  adopts  the  reading  of  the  later  folios,  defend- 
ing it  thus  :  "The  opposition  of  most  and  least  renders  the  line 
somewhat  obscure  ;  but  if  we  omit  most,  reading  '  Busy  least  when 
I  do  it,'  the  sense  is  clear  enough.  It  is  not  less  clear  with  most, 
so  punctuated."  Grant  Wliite  in  his  Shakespea7-e's  Scholar  (1854) 
accepts  "  busy-less,"  and  considers  "  busiest  "  to  be  "  graceless 
and  inappropriate  ;  "  but  in  his  edition  of  S.  (1857)  he  reads 
"  busiest,"  adding  this  note  :  "The  present  text  is  the  happy  con- 
jecture of  Holt  White. 1  Busiest  of  course  refers  to  thoughts. 
Ferdinand's  '  sweet  thoughts '  of  Miranda  were  busiest  when  he 
was  labouring  to  win  her."  For  other  attempts  at  emendation  see 
Furuess,  pp.  144-156.  1  have  preferred,  on  the  whole,  to  follow 
Verplanck  and  retain  the  reading  of  the  folios  ("  lest "  and  "  least " 
may  be  regarded  as  identical),  with  the  slight  change  in  punctua- 
tion.  I'he  passage  may  then  be  explained  as  follows  :  "  I  am  for- 
getting my  work  ;  but  v/hen  I  thus  forget,  my  mind  so  teems  with 
thoughts  that  I  am  really  most  busy  when  I  seem  to  be  least  busy, 
and  by  these  sweet  thoughts  I  am  even  refreshed  for  my  work" 
(Furness).  On  the  t'ansposition  in  least  when,  cf.  i.  2.  375  above: 
"Curtsied  when  you  have,"  etc.;  but  here  there  seems  to  be  no 
reason  for  the  inversion. 

19.  'Twill  7veep  for  having  wearied  you.  May  not  this  have 
been  suggested  by  the  exudation  of  moisture  from  imperfectly  sea- 
soned wood  in  an  open  fire  ?  Lowell  has  a  different  allusion  to  it 
in  Sir  Launfil :  — 

"  Like  a  locust  shrills  the  imprisoned  sap, 
Hunted  to  death  in  its  galleries  blind." 

31,  And  yours  it  is  against.  Cf.  A.  and  C.  ii.  4.  2:  "Hasten 
your  generals  after";    .-/.  W.  iii.  4.  6:  "the  cold  ground  upon," 

1  The  emendation  is  due  to  Holt,  not  "  Holt  White,"  a  mistake 
made  by  several  other  editors  (Furness). 


Scene  I]  Notes  l6j 

etc.     Poor  worm  =  poor  creature  ;   expressing  pity,  not  contempt, 
as  in  M.  IV.  v.  5.  87  :  "Vile  worm,"  etc. 

32.  P^isitation.  Visit ;  its  ordinary  meaning  in  S.  He  does 
not  use  visil  as  a  noun.  Cf.  M.  of  V.  iv.  i.  153  :  "  in  loving  visita- 
tion was  with  me,"  etc.  On  look  wearily,  cf.  T.  G.  of  V.  ii.  i.  30: 
"looked  sadly"  ;  Much  Ado,  ii.  i.  91 :  "  look  sweetly"  ;  A.  K  L. 
ii.  7.  II :  " look  merrily,"  etc. 

37.  Hest.     See  on  i.  2.  274  above. 

Admir''d  Miranda  !  Ferdinand  refers  to  the  Latin  origin  of  the 
name,  from  the  gerundive  of  niirari,  to  admire. 

38.  The  top  of  admiration.  Cf.  M.  for  M.  ii.  2.  76  :  "the  top 
of  judgment  "  ;    Cor.  i.  9.  24  :   "  top  of  praises,"  etc. 

42.  Several.  Separate.  Cf.  v.  I.  232  below:  "strange  and 
several  noises."  So  in  Milton,  Camus,  25  :  "  commits  to  several 
government  "  ;  Hymn  on  A'ativ.  234  :  "  Each  fetter'd  ghost  slips 
to  his  several  grave,"  etc. 

45.  O'cved.     Owned,  possessed.     See  on  i.  2.  406  above. 

46.  Put  it  to  the  foil.     Foiled,  or  neutralized  it,  by  contrast. 

48.  Every  creature's  best.  Cf.  the  description  of  Rosalind  in 
A.  Y.  L.  iii.  2.  149  fol. 

49.  No  woman's  face  remember.  Theobald  suggests  that  Mi- 
randa forgets  herself  here.  Cf.  i.  2.  46.  But  the  dreamy  remem. 
brance  there  refers  to  the  mere  existence  of  the  women,  and  does 
not  imply  that  she  could  recall  their /?«'«. 

53.  Skilless.  Ignorant.  Cf.  T.N.  iii.  3.  9:  "skilless  in  these 
parts." 

57.  Tc  like  of  Cf.  Much  Ado,  v.  4.  59  :  "  if  you  like  of  me  "  ; 
Z.  Z.  Z.  i.  I.  107  :  "  But  like  of  each  thing  that  in  season  grows," 
etc. 

62.  Than  to  suffer.  Tope  reads  "  Than  I  would  suffer ;  "  but 
the  insertion  of  to  with  a  verb  after  its  omission  with  a  preceding 
one  (especially  an  auxiliary)  is  not  uncommon  in  S.     Cf.  iv.  '    72. 

63.  Blow.     Cf.  //.  and  C.  v.  2.  60  and   IV.  T.  iv.  4.  820. 

67.   Do  you  love  me?     "Such  is  the  context  that  never  in  life 


r68  Notes  tAct  m 

or  in  literature  has  this  simple  question  been  put  so  sweetly  " 
(Luce). 

69.  Event.     Issue,  result  ;   as  in  i.  2.  117  above. 

70.  Hollowly.     Insincerely.     Cf.  M.  for  M.  ii.  3,  23  :  — • 

"  And  try  your  penitence,  if  it  be  sound, 
Or  hollowly  put  on." 

For  invert,  cf.  T.  and  C.  v.  2.  122  :  "  invert  the  attest  of  eyes  and 
ears" 

72.  PVhat  else  i'  the  world.  Whatever  else  there  is,  anything 
else.  Cf.  3  Hen,  VI.  iii.  i.  51  :  "  With  promise  of  his  sister  and 
what  else." 

84.  Your  fnaid.  Your  maid-servant.  Felloiu  =  companion ; 
applied  to  both  sexes.  Cf.  Judges,  xi.  37.  Companion  was  formerly 
used  contemptuously,  as  fellow  still  is.  Cf  /.  C.  iv.  3.  138  :  "  Com- 
panion, hence  !  "  and  2  Hen.  VI.  iv.  10.  33  :  "  Why,  rude  compan- 
ion," etc.  It  is  found  in  this  sense  in  Smollett's  Roderick  Random 
(1748)  :  "Scurvy  companion  !  Saucy  tarpaulin  !  Rude,  imperti- 
nent fellow  !  " 

87.  Thus  humble.  Luce  suggests  that  "  Ferdinand  is  probably 
kneeling";  but  mistress  (antithetical  to  servant  in  Miranda's 
speech)  sufficiently  explains  humble.  The  context  does  not  favour 
the  idea  that  he  kneels. 

91.    A  thousand  thousand.     That  is,  farewells. 

93.  Who  are  surprised  ~vith  all.  To  whom  it  is  all  a  surprise. 
Hudson  would  change  are  to  "  am,"  because  the  love  must  be  no 
surprise  to  the  young  people,  but  "seems  the  most  natural  thing  in 
the  world  "  ;  but  surprise  is  used  in  the  familiar  sense  of  coming 
suddenly.  Surprises  often  seem  natural  enough  as  soon  as  they 
have  come. 

94.  My  book.  One  of  the  books  on  the  magic  art  to  which  Cali- 
ban refers  in  the  next  scene  (93). 

Scene  II.  —  2.  Bear  up.  Take  your  course,  sail  up  :  as  in  Gth. 
i.  3.  8  :  "  A  Turkish  fleet,  and  bearing  up  to  Cyprus." 


Scene  II]  Notes  169 

4.  The  folly  of  this  island.  Probably  said  in  riiliculc  of  what 
he  soon  afterwards  calls  a  "  most  ignorant  monster  "  ami  a  "  natu- 
ral "(fool).  Brinsley  Nicholson  suggested  that  it  is  a  "toast" 
proposed  by  Trinculo  —  an  explanation  which  Furness  regards  as 
"  plausible  and  dramatic." 

9.  Set.  Cf.  T.  JV.  V.  i.  205  :  "  his  eyes  were  set  at  eight  i'  the 
morning."     Wright  cites  also  i  Kings,  xiv.  4. 

18.  Standard.  Standard-bearer,  or  ensign.  The  quibbles  on 
this  word,  and  on  lie,  just  below,  are  obvious  enough. 

20.  Go.  Walk;  as  opposed  to  run.  Cf.  T.  G.  of  V.  iii.  i. 
388  :  "  Thou  must  run  to  him,  for  thou  hast  stayed  so  long  that 
going  will  scarce  serve  the  turn." 

25.  Valiant.  A  trisyllable.  The  speech  is  in  verse  ;  as  lines 
31,  32  may  be,  whether  we  omit  my  (as  has  been  suggested)  or 
retain  it.  The  verse  would  bear  the  two  extra  unaccented 
syllables. 

27.  DebosKd.  The  old  spelling  of  debauched,  and  the  only  one 
in  the  folio. 

34.  That  a  monster  should  be  such  a  natural!  A  quibble  on 
natural  as  opposed  to  monstrous  and  as  —fool. 

45-47.  As  I  told  thee,  etc.  This  is  often  printed  as  prose,  but  it 
was  probably  intended  as  verse.  Like  some  other  of  Caliban's 
speeches,  it  is  somewhat  irregular. 

59.    But  this  thing  dare  not.     That  is,  would  not  dare. 

67.  Pied  ninny.  Alluding  to  the  motley  dress  of  the  profes- 
sional jester,  or  fool,  as  the  name  patch  perhaps  does. 

71.  Quick  freshes.  Springs  of  fresh  water.  Quick  (  =  living) 
is  applied  to  water  flowing  from  a  spring,  as  "living  '  is  in  the 
Bible,  etc. 

74.  Make  a  stock-fish  of  thee.  "  Beat  thee  as  stock-fish  (dried 
cod)  is  beaten  before  it  is  boiled  "  (Dyce). 

95.  Wezand.  Throat,  windpipe;  the  only  instance  of  the  word 
in  S.     It  is  also  spelled  lueazand,  wesand,  and  weasand. 

'Xj.   A  sot.     A  fool  (Fr.  sot) ;   the  only  meaning  in  S.     Cf.  C.  of  E, 


lyo  Notes  [Act  m 

ii.  2.  196:  "Thou  snail,  thou  slug,  thou  sot!  "  Lear,  iv.  2.  8:  "he 
called  me  sot,"  etc. 

100.  Ulensib.  For  the  accent  on  the  first  syllable,  of.  Milton, 
P.  R.  iii.  336:  "And  wagons  fraught  with  utensils  of  war." 

101.  When  he  has  a  house.  Instead  of  the  cell  (i.  2.  20,  etc.),  or 
cave,  in  which  he  dwells.  Withal  is  the  emphatic  form  of  with, 
put  at  the  end  uf  a  sentence  and  referring  to  a  preceding  object  — 
which  in  this  instance.     The  object  is  generally  a  relative. 

102.  That.     That  which  ;  a  common  ellipsis  of  the  relative. 
105.    She.     Her.     See  on  he,  ii.  i.  29  above. 

108.  Nonpareil.  Cf.  T.  N.  i.  5.  273:  "The  nonpareil  of 
beauty,"  etc.     S.  uses  the  word  five  times. 

122.  Troll  the  catch.  A  catch  is  a  round,  in  which  the  parts  are 
taken  up  (or  caught  up)  in  succession.  Troll,  as  a  noun,  means 
the  same  as  catch  ;   and  to  troll  was  to  sing  as  in  a  troll,  or  catch. 

123.  While-ere.     Erewhile,  a  while  ago;   used  by  S.  only  here. 
131.    The  picture  of  Nobody.     Probably  an  allusion  to  a  ludicrous 

figure  (head,  arms,  and  legs,  without  a  trunk,  or  body)  prefixed  to 
the  old  comedy  of  N^obody  and  Somebody.  It  was  also  the  sign  of  a 
stationer's  shop  in  London. 

133.    Take  V  as  thou  list.     Take  what  shape  you  please. 

142.    Will  hum,  etc.     See  on  i.  2.  198  above. 

146.    That,  when  I  wak'd.     So  that.     See  on  i.  2.  85  above. 

151.  By  and  by.  Presently;  as  in  M.  W.  iv.  i.  7,  Af.  for  M.  iv. 
2.  73,  etc.     Cf.  Luke,  xxi.  2. 

156.  Taborer.  Drummer;  used  by  S.  only  here.  The  tabor, 
mentioned  several  times,  was  a  small  drum. 

157.  Wiltcome?  Someeditors  transfer  the  question  to  Stephano. 
It  is  probably  addressed  to  Caliban ;  and  perhaps  the  comma  before 
Stephano  should  be  omitted,  as  in  the  folio. 

SCKNE  III. —  I.  By  'r  lakin.  P.y  our  Ladykin,  or  the  Virgin 
Mary.  The  diminutive,  as  often,  expresses  endearment  =  our  dear 
Lady. 


Scene  III]  Notes 


171 


2.  Ache.     The  ist  folio  has  "  akcs."     See  on  i.  2.  368  above. 

3.  Forthrights  and  niea}iders.  Straight  paths  and  winding  ones. 
Cf.  T.  ami  C.  iii.  3.  158:  "Or  he<lge  aside  from  the  direct  forth- 
right." There  is  an  allusion  to  the  artilicial  "  mazes  "  of  the  oMen 
time. 

5.  Attacli'd.  Seized.  Attach  is  etymologically  the  same  as 
attack.     0.1.  Spenser,  F.  Q.  iii.  S.  33 :  — 

"  Like  as  a  fearefull  partridge,  that  is  fledd 
From  the  sharpe  hauke  which  her  attached  neare." 

12.    Forgo.     The  folio  reading,  and  the  more  correct  spelling. 

14.  Throughly.  Thoroughly.  Cf.  M.  of  J',  iv.  i,  173,  //aw.  iv. 
5.  136,  etc. 

21.  Drollery.  Puppet-show.  Cf.  2  Hen.  IV.  ii.  i.  156  :  "  a  pretty 
slight  drollery." 

23.  One  tree,  the  phcenix^  throne,  etc.  In  Holland's  translation 
of  Pliny's  Nat.  //ist.  (xiii.  4)  we  read  :  "  I  myself  verily  have  heard 
straunge  things  of  this  kind  of  tree;  and  namely  in  regard  of  the 
bird  Phcenix,  which  is  supposed  to  have  taken  that  name  of  this 
date-tree  [called  in  Creek  0o/i'(J];  for  it  was  assured  unto  me  that 
the  said  bird  died  wdth  that  tree,  and  revived  of  itselfe  as  the  tree 
sprung  again."  Lyly,  in  his  Thoughts,  says  :  "  As  there  is  but  one 
phoenix  in  the  world,  so  is  there  but  one  tree  in  Arabia  wherein  she 
buildeth."  Florio,  in  his  /tal.  Diet.,  defines  "  Rasin  "  as  "  a  tree  in 
Arabia,  whereof  there  is  but  one  found,  and  upon  it  the  phctnix 
sits."     See  also  Shakespeare's  poem  of  The  Phcenix  and  the  Turtle. 

30.  Certes.  Certainly.  The  word  was  nearly  obsolete  in  S.'s 
day.  He  uses  it  only  five  times.  It  is  a  favorite  archaism  with 
Spenser. 

32.  Gentle-kind.  Compound  adjectives  are  common  in  S.,  but 
often  not  so  marked  in  the  early  eds.  The  editors  generally  make 
this  a  compound,  but  Furness  would  read  "  gentle,  kind  "  with  the 
folio. 


172  Notes  [Act  III 

36.  Muse.  Wonder  at.  Cf.  Macb.  iii.  4.  85  :  "  Do  not  muse  at 
me";  A'.  John,  iii.  i.  317:  "I  muse  your  majesty  duth  seem  so 
cold,"  etc.  We  find  the  noun  also  =  wonderment;  as  in  Spenser, 
F.  Q.  i.  12.  29:  "As  in  great  muse." 

39.  Praise  in  departing.  A  proverbial  expression.  Praise  given 
too  soon  may  have  to  be  retracted.    Cf.  VV.  T.  i.  2.  9. 

45.  Deiu-lapfd  like  bulls.  Probably  a  reference  to  the  victims 
of  goilre,  so  common  in  mountainous  districts,  especially  in  Switzer- 
land. Furness  suggests  that  "the  pouched  apes  gave  rise  to  the 
story."      Dew-lapp\l  occurs  again  in  A/.  N.  D.  iv.  I.  127. 

47.  Whose  heads  stood  in  their  breasts.  Cf.  0th.  i.  3.  144 :  "  men 
whose  heads  do  grow  beneath  their  shoulders."  Pliny  {iVat.  Hist. 
V.  8)  tells  of  men  that  have  no  heads,  but  mouths  and  eyes  in  their 
breasts;  and  Hakluyt,  in  his  Voyages  (1598),  describes  "a  nation 
of  people  whose  heads  appear  not  above  their  shoulders."  Buck- 
nill  {Medical  Knowledge  of  Shakespeare)  suggests  that  the  poet 
"  may  only  refer  to  the  effect  produced  by  forward  curvature  of  the 
spine,  in  which  the  head  appears  to  be  set  below  the  shoulders." 

48.  Each  putter-out  of  five  for  one.  The  allusion  is  to  "a  kind 
of  inverted  life  insurance  "  which  was  in  vogue  in  S.'s  day.  A  trav- 
eller before  leaving  home  put  out  a  sum  of  money,  on  condition  of 
receiving  two,  three,  or  tive  times  the  amount  upon  his  return.  If 
he  did  not  return,  of  course  the  deposit  was  forfeited.  Cf.  Ben 
Jonson's  Every  Man  out  of  his  Humour,  ii.  3  :  "  I  am  determined 
to  put  forth  some  five  thousand  pounds,  to  be  paid  me,  five  for  one, 
upon  the  return  of  myself,  my  wife,  and  my  dog,  from  the  Turk's 
court  in  Constantinople.  If  all  or  either  of  us  miscarry  in  the  jour- 
ney, 't  is  gone :  if  we  be  successful,  why,  there  will  be  twenty-five 
thousand  pounds  to  entertain  time  withal." 

52.  As  Steevens  notes,  the  introduction  of  Ariel  as  a  harpy  was 
doubtless  taken  from  Virgil  {Ain.  iii.  209  fob).  Cf.  Milton,  P.  R. 
11.401-403. 

53.  Who7n  destiny  .  .  .  Hath  caused  to  belch  up  you.  For  the 
supplementary  pronoun  with  the  relative,  cf.  Sonn.  3C.  7,  W.  T.  v. 


Scene  iiij  Notes  1 73 

I.  138,  Cymb.  V.  5.  464,  etc.     For  to  imtrument,  see  on  ii.   i.  So 
above. 

60.  Their  proper  selves.  Their  own  selves.  Cf.  Cymb.  iv.  2.  97 : 
"  With  my  proper  hand,"  etc. 

62.  Of  whom.     See  on  ii.  i.  124  above. 

63.  Bemock'd-al.  Cf.  "  hoped-for"  (3v%«.  F/.  v.  4.  35),"  sued- 
for"  {Cor.  ii.  3.  216),  "  unthought-on"  {W.  T.  iv.  4.  549),  "  un- 
thought-of "  (i  Hen.  IV.  iii.  2.  141),  etc. 

64.  Still-dosing.     See  on  i.  2.  229  above. 

65.  Bowie.  A  fibre  of  down ;  a  word  "  of  uncertain  origin  " 
{New  Eng.  Did.).  In  2  //fw.  IV.  iv.  5.  32  the  folio  has  "There 
lyes  a  dowlney  feather,"  and  in  the  next  line  "  that  light  and  weight- 
lesse  dowlne  ";  but  dowlne  was  no  proper  spelling  of  down,  as  some 
have  supposed.  Aly  felloiv  ministers  seems  to  imply  that  Ariel  is 
accompanied  by  other  spirits,  though  those  that  brought  in  the 
banquet  have  apparently  departed. 

66.  Like  invulnerable.  Similarly  invulnerable.  0.1.  C.  of  E.'\.\. 
83:  "I  had  been  like  heedful  of  the  other";  Hen.  V.  ii.  2.  183: 
"  Shall  be  to  you,  as  us,  like  glorious,"  etc. 

67.  Massy.  Massive;  as  in  7".  awa'C  ii.  3.  18:  " massy  irons," 
etc.  S.  does  not  use  massive.  Strengths  is  plural  because  refer- 
ring to  more  than  one.     Cf.  wraths  in  79  below. 

71.   Requit.     Cf.  "Have  quit  it,"  i.  2.  148  above. 

77.  Than  any  death  Can  be  at  once.  Than  any  death-at-once 
can  be.  Similar  examples  of  transposed  "  adjectival  phrases  "  are 
frequent  in  S. 

80.  Falls.  The  relative  often  takes  a  singular  verb,  though  the 
antecedent  be  plural. 

82.  Clear,  Pure,  blameless.  Cf.  Macb.  1.  7.  18:  "clear  in  his 
great  office,"  etc. 

86.  With  good  life  And  observation  strange.  Johnson  says, 
"  With  good  life  may  mean  'with  exact  presentation  of  their  several 
characters,'  with  observation  strange  'of  their  particular  and  distinct 
parts.'    So  we  say,  '  he  acted  to  the  life.^ "     Or,  good  life  may  mean 


\  74  Notes  [Act  IV 

"good  spirit,"  and  observation  strange  "wonderfully  exact  observ- 
ance" [of  my  orders,  or  of  the  requirements  of  the  part].  On 
strange,  cf.  strangely  in  iv.  i.  7  below. 

92.  Whom  they  suppose  is  drown '(/.  For  the  "  confusion  of  con- 
struction," cf.  K.  John,  iv.  2.  165  :  "Of  Arthur,  whom  they  say  i= 
kill'd  to-night,"  etc.     See  also  Mattheiv,  xvi.  13. 

93.  Mine  lov''d  darling.  Mine  is  sometimes  used  for  my  when 
thus  separated  from  the  following  noun.     See  on  ii.  i.  261. 

95.    Stare.     The  only  instance  of  the  noun  in  S. 

99.  Bass.  Utter  in  a  deep  tone;  the  only  instance  of  the  verb 
in  S.  The  metre  does  not  require  the  contraction  Prosper,  Cf. 
i'-  !•  Zli'i-  The  folio  has  Prosper  again  in  ii.  2.  2,  where  also  it  is 
metrically  unnecessary.  Similar  contractions  occur  in  other  plays; 
as  Desdenton  five  times  in  0th.  (but  Desdemona  in  the  quartos), 
Helen  often  for  Helena  in  M.  N.  /?.,'  etc. 

102.    Bttt  one  Jietid.     Let  but  one  fiend  come. 

106.    Gins.     Not  a  contraction  of  begins,  as  often  printed. 

108.  Ecstasy.  Madness.  In  S.  ecstasy  "  s\.?ind%  for  every  species 
of  alienation  of  mind,  whether  temporary  or  permanent,  proceeding 
from  joy,  sorrow,  wonder,  or  any  other  exciting  cause  "  (Nares). 


ACT  IV 


Scene  I.  —  3.  A  thread  of  mine  own  life.  An  intertwined  part 
of  my  very  life.  The  folio  reads  "  a  third,"  which,  as  Dyce  remarks, 
"  is  rather  an  old  spelling  than  a  mistake :  in  early  books  we  occa- 
sionally find  third  for  thrid,  i.e.  thread."  A  few  editors  retain 
"  third,"  giving  various  explanations  of  the  fractional  sense. 

4.    Who.     For  who  =  "whom,  cf.  i.  2.  80,  231  above. 

9.  Her  off.  The  ist  folio  has  "her  of,"  which  Keightley  and 
Furness  take  to  be  a  misprint  for  "of  her."  The  later  folios  have 
her  off,  which  is  adopted  by  all  other  editors.  Furness  thinks  that 
it  suggests  "exaggeration";   but  the  apologetic  Do  not  smile  indi- 


Scene  X]  Notes  173 

cates  that  Prospero  feared  it  might  be  so  regarded  liy  Ferdinand, 
and  therefore  seems  to  favour  the  reading.  He  appears  to  mean, 
"  Don't  think  me  extravagant  in  my  praise  of  her,  for  you'll  fmd  it 
falls  short  of  the  truth." 

14.  Purchased.  Obtained,  won ;  as  very  often.  Ci.  A.  F.  Z.  ii. 
2.  360,  Z.  Z.  Z.  iii.  I.  27,  Hen.  V.  iv.  7.  181,  etc. 

15-  Virgin-knot.  Alluding  to  the  zone  or  girdle  which  was  worn 
by  maidens  in  classical  times,  and  which  the  husband  untied  at  the 
wedding.  Hence  solvere  zona  in  (loose  the  girdle)  =  to  marry.  Cf. 
Per.  iv.  2.  160 :  "Untied  I  still  my  virgin-knot  will  keep." 

16.  Sanctinioniotis.  Sacred,  holy.  It  has  the  modern  meaning 
in  the  only  other  instance  in  which  S.  uses  it  {Af.  for  M.  i.  2.  7). 

18.  Aspersion.  Literally,  sprinkling;  the  only  instance  of  the 
word  in  S.  There  is  perhaps  an  allusion  to  the  old  ceremony  of 
sprinkling  the  marriage-bed  with  holy  water. 

23.  Latnps.  Elze  plausibly  suggests  "  lamp,"  as  the  allusion 
seems  to  be  to  the  torch  of  Hymen. 

26.  Opportune.  Accented  on  the  penult ;  as  in  W.  T.  iv.  4.  51 1  : 
■'And  most  opportune  to  our  need  I  have."  S.  uses  the  word  but 
twice.     For  suggestion,  see  on  ii.  i.  295. 

27.  Our  worser  genius  can.  S.  uses  luorser  fifteen  times.  Can 
==  "  can  suggest,"  as  some  explain  it ;    or  it  may  be  =  to  have  power, 

to  be  able,  as  in  //am.  iv.  7.  85,  v.  2.  331,  etc.  Our  worser  genius 
—  the  evil  part  of  our  nature ;  but  doubtless  suggesting  a  genius, 
or  spirit,  separate  from  ourself,  that  influences  us  to  evil  doing,  in 
opposition  to  the  "guardian  angel"  that  resists  this  demonic 
prompting.  Cf./.  C.  ii.  i.  66,  A.  and  C.  ii.  3.  19,  2r.  I^acb.  iii. 
I.  56,  etc. 

29.  The  edge  of  that  daf  s  celebration,  etc.  The  keen  enjoyment 
of  the  wedding  day. 

31.  Spoke.  The  -n  or  -en  of  the  participle  is  often  dropped  by 
tie  Elizabethan  writers. 

37.  The  rabble.  That  is  "thy  meaner  fellows",  but,  like  that 
expression,  not  particularly  contemptuous. 


176  Notes  [Act  IV 

41.  Some  vanity.     Some  illusion  ;    or,  perhaps,  some  trifle. 

42.  Presently?  Immediately?  This  is  almost  unvariably  the 
meaning  of  the  word  in  S.     Ho  present  is  often  =  immediate. 

43.  With  a  twink.  "  In  the  twinkling  of  an  eye  "  (.♦/.  of  V.  ii. 
2.  177).     Cf.  T.  of  S.\\.  I.  T)\2:  "in  a  twink." 

47.   Mop  and  mow.     The  two  words  have  the  same  meaning  (see 
'  on  ii.  2.  9  above),  and  are  often  thus  conjoined  in  writers  of  that  day. 
Cf.  Lear,  iv.  i.  64:  "mopping  and  mowing";   and  Beaumont  and 
Fletcher,  Pilgrim,  iv.  2 :  — 

"  What  mops  and  mowes  it  makes !  heigh,  how  it  frisketh  I 
Is  't  not  a  fairy  ?  or  some  small  hob-goblin  ?  " 

55.  White-cold.  The  folio  has  "white  cold,"  but  it  is  probably 
a  compound  adjective,  like  "sudden-bold"  (Z.  L.  L.  ii.  i.  107), 
"fertile-fresh"  (71/.  W.  v.  5.  72),  etc. 

56.  My  liver.  The  liver  was  anciently  supposed  to  be  the  seat 
of  love,  especially  as  an  animal  passion.  Cf.  Much  Ado,  iv.  i.  233 : 
"  if  ever  love  had  interest  in  his  liver,"  etc. 

57.  A  corollary.  A  surplus  ;  an  obsolete  sense.  S.  uses  the 
word  only  here. 

58.  Pertly.  Briskly,  promptly.  Cf.  the  adjective  in  M.  N.  D. 
i.  I.  13. 

63.  Stover.  Fodder  for  cattle.  It  has  the  same  origin  as  the 
law-term  estover.  In  sor.ie  parts  of  England  it  means  hay  made  of 
clover.  ThatclCd  probably  means  "covered,  strewn,"  and  not,  as 
it  has  been  explained,  "  having  shelters  thatched  with  straw." 

64.  Pioned  and  lilied.  The  folio  has  "pioned,  and  twilled," 
which  some  editors  have  retained,  explaining  it  as  "  dug  and  ridged." 
But  there  is  no  satisfactory  evidence  that //t)«ft/ ever  meant  "  dug." 
l:\\ii  pioner  ox  pioneer  had  to  do  much  digging,  but  the  word  is  not 
derived  from  a  veib  meaning  to  dig  (but  from  peon  or  pion,  a  foot- 
soldier),  and  the  only  instance  of  a  possible  verb  (or  noun^  pioning 
is  in  Spenser,  P\  Q.  ii.  10.  b^  :  — 


Scene  I]  Notes  177 

"  With  painefull  pyonings 
From  sea  to  sea  he  heapt  a  mighty  mound." 

where  it  seems  to  have  been  suggested  by  ploiier,  and  probably  is  = 
pioneering,  or  the  work  done  by  pioneers. 

Professor  T.  S.  Baynes  (in  the  Edinburgh  Revieiv,  October,  1872) 
says  that  peony  is  the  provincial  name  in  Warwickshire  for  the 
-'marsh  marigold,"  which  "haunts  the  watery  margins  as  the  con- 
stant associate  of  reeds  and  rushes,  blooms  in  'spongy  April,'  and 
in  common  with  other  water  flowers  is  twined  with  sedge  '  to  make 
cold  nymphs  chaste  crowns.'  "  The  local  pronunciation,  he  says,  is 
piony.  Again,  as  Hallivvell-Phillipps  (^Archaic  DicL)  gives  hi>ills 
as  =  reeds,  this  writer  maintains  that  '•^twilled  is  the  very  word  to 
describe  the  crowded  sedges  in  the  shallower  reaches  of  the  Avon 
as  it  winds  round  Stratford."  But,  as  Wright  remarks,  Halliwell- 
Phillipps  simply  follows  Ray  in  giving  tioilh  as  =  "  quills,  reeds," 
for  winding  yarn;  but  there  is  no  authority  for  going  further  and 
saying  that  it  means  "  reed,  the  name  of  a  plant."  Baynes's  state- 
ment that  the  peony  is  the  marsh  marigold  has  also  been  questioned. 

Clarke  remarks :  "  Peoned  and  lilied  presents  a  poetical  picture 
of  brilliant  colouring  that  we  have  often  heard  both  Keats  and 
Leigh  Hunt  admire."  Some  have  said  that  the  mention  of  chaste 
crowns  seems  to  demand  the  previous  mention  of  flowers,  and  there- 
fore ia.\oxs  pioned  and  lilied ;  while  others  argue  that  the  reference 
to  April  as  trimming  the  banks  implies  that  flowers  have  7tot  been 
mentioned.  But  betrims  may  naturally  ■m.zz.w.  "  thus  betrims,"  the 
mention  of  the  flowers  suggesting  their  history  and  the  use  that  is 
made  of  them.  Some  have  denied  that  lilies  grow  on  the  banks  of 
rivers;  but  Milton  (^Arcades,  97)  has:  "By  sandy  Ladon's  lilied 
banks." 

Furness,  after  giving  almost  six  pages  of  fine  print  to  a  summary 
of  the  discussion,  leaves  the  matter  thus:  "  I  doubt  if  there  be  any 
corruption  in  this  line  which  calls  for  change.  We  have  simply  lost 
the  meaning  of  words  which  were  perfectly  intelligible  to  Shake- 
speare's audience.    As  agricultural  or  horticultural  terms,  pionid  n iid 

THE   TEMI'EbT —  12 


lyS 


Notes  [Act  IV 


tzvilledyiiW  be  some  day,  probably,  sufficiently  explained  to  enable 
us  to  weave  from  them  the  chaste  crowns  for  cold  nymphs.  In  the 
meantime  I  see  no  reason  why  we  should  not  accept  Henley's  inter- 
pretation as  the  best  means  of  enabling  spongy  April,  in  Emerson's 
fine  phrase,  to  'turn  the  sod  to  violet.'  "  Henley  thinks  the  pas- 
sage refers,  not  to  river-banks,  but  to  "  the  banks  (or  mounds)  of 
they?«/  tneads ;  .  .  .  and  the  giving  way  or  caving  in  of  the  irimf 
of  these  banks,  occasioned  by  the  heats,  rains,  and  frosts  of  the 
preceding  year,  are  made  good  by  opening  the  trenches  from 
whence  the  banks  themselves  were  first  raised,  and  facing  them  up 
afresh  with  the  mire  those  trenches  contain.  This  being  done,  the 
brii?is  of  the  banks  are,  in  the  poet's  \diX\g\i?t.ge,  pioned  and  iiuilled" 
For  myself,  since  we  do  not  know  what  agricultural  operations,  it 
any,  are  meant  by  the  words  (not  a  single  clear  instance  of  either 
pioned  or  twilled  in  connection  with  such  operations  having  been 
found  in  our  literature),  I  prefer  to  accept,  for  the  present,  the 
theory  that  flowers  are  probably  meant,  whether  the  pionies  be 
peonies  or  marsh  marigolds  or  something  else,  and  whatever  may  be 
the  species  of  lilies.  Since  /?o««/ evidently  could  xeier  to  peonies, 
twilled,  if  we  retained  it,  might  refer  to  some  other  flower  or  plant. 
Rowe  changed  "  twilled  "  into  "  tuliped,"  and  Capell  into  "  tilled." 
Lilied  is  due  to  Heath.  Others  have  changed  "pioned"  to  "pio- 
nied  "  and  "  peonied  ";  but  "  piony  "  is  another  form  for  "  peony  " 
and  the  spelling  of  the  folio  may  as  well  stand.  The  peony  may 
not  suit  our  modern  taste  as  a  flower  for  "  chaste  crowns,"  but  old 
writers  are  quoted  who  call  it  "  the  mayden  piony  "  and  "  virgin 
peonie."  It  has  been  objected  that  peonies  and  hhes  do  not  bloom 
in  April,  but  Bosvvell  quotes  Bacon's  Essay  Of  Gardens  :  "  In  Aprill 
follow.  The  Double  white  Violet  ;  The  Wall-Flower ;  The  Stock- 
Gilly-Flower ;  The  Couslip  ;  Flower-de-lices,  and  Lillies  of  all 
Natures;  Rose-mary  Flowers  ;  The  Tulippa  ;  The  Double  Piony  ;" 
etc. 

65.  Spotigy.     Rainy;  as  in  Cymb.  iv.  2.  349 :  "tlie  spongy  south." 

66.  Broom  groves.     Groves  in  which  broom  (^Spartium  scopa- 


Scene  I]  Notes  1 79 

riwii)  abounds  ;  though  Steevens  asserts  that  the  broom  itself  some- 
times grows  "  high  enough  to  conceal  the  tallest  cattle  as  they  pass 
through  it,  and  in  places  where  it  is  cultivated  still  higher,"  Han- 
mer  changed  broom  to  "brown." 

68.  Lass-lorn.     Forsaken  by  his  lass,  or  lady. 

Pole-dipt.  Not  "  clipped  so  as  to  be  trained  to  a  pole  "  (as  some 
explain  it),  but  with  the  poles  dipt,  or  embraced,  by  the  vines.  S 
uses  dip  fourteen  times  (counting  /'.  P.  148,  156)  in  this  obsolete 
sense  (also  indip  once),  and  only  three  times  in  its  ordinary  sense 
Vineyard  is  here  a  trisyllable. 

69.  Rocky-hard.  The  hyphen  is  in  the  folio,  and  is  doubtless 
right ;  but  an  attempt  has  been  made  to  prove  that  hard  is  a  noun, 
referring  to  an  elevated  area  or  plateau. 

71.  Watery  arch  and  fnessenger.  Iris  was  the  goddess  of  the 
rainbow,  and  also  the  messenger  of  Juno. 

72.  Bids  thee  leave  these  and .  .  .  to  come.     See  on  iii.  i.  62  above. 
74.   Her  peacocks.     The  chariot  of  Juno  was  drawn  by  peacocks, 

as  that  of  Venus  was  by  doves  (see  94  below).  Amain  =  literally 
with  main  (which  we  still  use  in  "might  and  main"),  that  is,  with 
strength  or  force,  vigorously. 

78.  Saffron  wings.  So  Virgil  describes  her  in  ^n.  iv.  700  : 
"Iris  croceis  .  .  .  pennis." 

81.  Bosky.  Shrubby.  Cf.  Milton,  Comics,  313:  "every  bosky 
bourn." 

83.  This  short-grass' d green.  This  is  in  keeping  with  the  char- 
acter. Ceres  wonders  that  she  should  be  invited  to  a  piece  of 
ground  where  not  even  a  crop  of  hay  could  be  raised.  Fer  asking 
whether  Venus  is  invited,  and  her  comments  on  that  celestial  lady 
and  her  "blind  boy,"  are  also  characteristic. 

85,  Estate.  Grant,  or  settle  as  a  possession.  Cf.  A.  Y.  L.  v.  2, 
13:  "the  revenue  .  .  .  will  I  estate  upon  you,"  etc. 

89.  The  means  that  dusky  Dis,  etc.  The  means  by  which  Pluto 
carried  off  Proserpina.  For  dusky^  cf.  Virgil's  "  atri  Ditis  "  (dark 
Pluto)  in  y£«.  vi.  127. 


i8o  Notes  [Act  IV 

90.  ScandaVd.  Scandalous.  For  the  verb,  cf.  Cor.  iii.  i.  44, 
/,  C.  i.  2.  76,  and  Cymb.  iii.  4.  62. 

93.  Paphos.  A  city  in  Cyprus,  one  of  tiie  favourite  seats  of 
Venus,     Cf.  F.  and  A.  1193  and  /"^r.  iv.  prol.  32. 

94.  Thought  they  to  have  done.  For  the  ungrammatical  con- 
struction (not  uncommon  now)  cf.  168  below. 

96.  Bed-right.  The  folio  reading,  changed  by  some  editors  to 
"  bed-rite."     Right  and  rite  are  often  confounded  by  old  writers. 

98.  Mars's  hot  minion.  Mars's  ardent  favourite.  Venus  was 
the  wife  of  Vulcan,  but  loved  Mars.  Minion,  originally  equivalent 
to  "  darling"  (Fr.  mignon),  came  at  length  to  mean  "  an  unworthy 
object  on  whom  an  excessive  fondness  is  bestowed."  In  Sylvester's 
Du  Bartas  (1605)  we  find  "God's  disciple  and  his  dearest  minion." 
So  in  Stirling's  Domes- day :  "  Immortall  minions  in  their  Maker's 
sight." 

99.  Has  broke.     See  on  31  above. 

102.  By  her  gait.  Cf.  Virgil,  ^n.  i.  46  :  "  divum  incedo  re- 
gina"  (I  walk  queen  of  the  gods);  Id.  i.  405:  "vera  incessu 
patuit  dea";   Per.  v.  I.  1 12:  "in  pace  another  Juno." 

106.  Marriage-blessing,  The  folio  has  "marriage,  blessing^'' 
but  the  editors  generally  make  it  a  compound. 

no.  Earth's  increase,  foison  plenty.  The  reading  of  ist  folio. 
The  2d  folio  has  "and  foison,"  which  is  adopted  by  many  editors. 
Plenty  =  plentiful.  The  folios  give  the  whole  Song  to  Juno. 
Theobald  made  the  correction.     Y ox  foison,  see  on  ii.  i.  171  above. 

114.  Spring  come  to  you,  etc.  Cf.  Amos,  ix.  13.  Mrs.  Kemble 
cites  Leviticus,  xxvi.  5. 

119.  Charmingly.  Enchantingly,  delightfully;  used  by  S.  only 
here.     Some  explain  it  as  "magically." 

121.  Confines.  Abodes  in  air,  earth,  water,  etc.  Cf.  Ham.  i.  I, 
155:  — 

"  Whether  in  sea  or  fire,  in  earth  or  air, 
The  extravagant  and  erring  spirit  hies 
To  his  confine," 


Scene  I]  Notes  1 8 1 

123.  S«  rare  a  ■wonder'' d  father  and  a  wise.  Cf.  K.  John,  iv.  2. 
27:  "So  new  a  fashion'd  robe"  ;  C.  of  E.  iii.  2.  186:  "  So  fair  an 
offer'd  chain,"  etc.  Some  copies  of  the  ist  foHo  read  "wise," 
and  others  "  wife."  The  change  must  have  been  made  while 
the  book  was  printing,  but  which  is  the  corrected  reading  can- 
not now  be  determined.  All  the  other  foHos  have  "  wise."  JMr. 
Ashhurst  (Phila.  ed.)  says:  "Miranda  must  be  the  chief  cause 
of  Ferdinand's  finding  the  island  a  Paradise.  .S"^  7-are  a  icon- 
der'd  father,  meaning  father  of  so  rare  a  wonder,  though  in- 
verted and  obscure,  is  hardly  beyond  the  limits  of  poetic  license. 
Having  spoken  of  Prospero  in  what  is  to  Ferdinand  his  most  in- 
teresting position,  as  father  of  admired  Miranda  and  himself  her 
betrothed,  he  then  passes  to  his  individual  characteristic,  wisdom. 
This  reading  has  at  least  the  merit  of  adherence  to  the  canon, 
keeping  the  text  unchanged  while  it  does  not  make  Ferdinand 
guilty  of  omitting  among  his  inducements  to  live  forever  on  the 
isle  the  goddess  on  whom  these  airs  attend."  Wright  remarks  : 
"  Both  readings  of  course  yield  an  excellent  sense,  but  it  must  be 
admitted  that  the  latter  \wise'\  seems  to  bring  Ferdinand  from  his 
rapture  back  to  earth  again.  He  is  lost  in  wonder  at  Prospero's 
magic  power.  It  may  be  objected  that  in  this  case  Miranda  is 
left  out  altogether,  but  the  use  of  the  word  father  shows  that  Fer- 
dinand regarded  her  as  one  with  himself."  Wotider''d  may  be  = 
wonder-working. 

124.  Makes.  This  might  be  cited  in  favour  of  wise  if  S.  did 
not  often  use  a  singular  verb  with  two  singular  nominatives. 

128.  Winding  brooks.  The  folio  has  "windring,"  and  it  is 
doubtful  whether  we  should  read  "  wandering  "  or  "  winding." 

129.  Sedg'd  crowns.  Cf.  Milton's  description  of  the  river-god 
Camus  {^Lycidas,  104)  :  "  his  bonnet  sedge." 

130.  Crisp  channels.  Rippled  or  ruffled  by  the  wind.  Cf. 
Milton,  P.  L.  iv.  237:  "the  crisped  brooks";  and  Comus,  984: 
"  the  crisped  shades  and  bowers."  Land  may  =  laund,  or  lawn. 
Cf.  V.and  A.  813. 


1 82  Notes  [Act  IV 

131,  Your  summons.     The  summons  ;vrf/z'^a' by  you. 

132.  Temperate.     Chaste.     Cf.  "  cold  nymphs  "  in  66  above. 
138.    Footing.     Dancing.     Cf.  i.  2,  377  above. 

142.  Avoid!  Depart,  begone!  Cf.  .-/.  and  C.  v.  2.  242: 
"  Avoid,  and  leave  him  "  ;  W.  T.  i.  2.  462 :  "  Let  us  avoid,"  etc. 
See  also  i  Samuel,  xviii.  11.  I 

143.  This  is  strange,  etc.  In  this  line  passion  is  probably  a 
trisyllable,  is  being  treated  as  an  extra  unaccented  syllable. 

144.  Works.     Works  upon,  affects.     Cf.  v.  i.  17  below. 

145.  Distempe}-'' d.  Disturbed,  excited.  Cf.  Ham.  iii.  2.  312: 
"  marvellous  distempered,"  etc. 

154.  Inherit.     Possess.     Cf.  ii.  2.  175  above. 

156.  Leave  not  a  rack.  The  folio  has  "  racke."  ^ar-i,  as  ap- 
plied to  the  clouds  {Ha>n.  ii.  2.  506,  Sonn.  33.  6,  etc.),  is  not  the 
same  word  as  wrack  —  wreck.  The  critics  are  not  agreed  which  is 
the  word  here;  but,  to  my  thinking,  rack  is  much  better,  and  what 
S.  probably  wrote.  The  wreck  of  a  world  would  be  something 
substantial;  but  rack  implies  that  not  even  a  floating  vapour  would 
be  left. 

157.  Made  on.     See  on  i.  2.  87  above. 

158.  Bounded.  Perhaps  =  "  finished  off "  (Wright)  ;  or  we  may 
accept  Schmidt's  paraphrase  :  "  the  whole  round  or  course  of  life 
has  its  beginning  and  end  in  a  sleep,  is  nothing  but  a  sleep."  Dr. 
Ingleby  {Shakespeare  I/er/neneiitics)  says:  "  Hardly  in  all  Shake- 
speare can  two  or  three  successive  lines  be  found  more  touchingly 
beautiful  than  these.  ...  To  seize  the  central  or  leading  notion 
here  is  not  difficult.  Jean  Paul  —  a  man  worthy  to  be  Shake- 
speare's unconscious  interpreter  —  was  certainly  not  thinking  of  this 
fine  passage  when  he  wrote  the  following  in  Flower,  Fruit,  and 
Thorn-pieces,  chap,  xv.,  which  I  quote  from  Mr.  E.  H.  Noel's 
admirable  version :  '  And  he  thought  of  the  clouds,  the  cold  and 
the  night,  that  reigned  around  the  poles  of  life  —  the  birth  and 
death  of  man  —  as  round  the  poles  of  the  earth.'  What  does  this 
mean,  but  that  our  life  is  rounded  by  the  sleep  of  birth  and  death, 


Scene  I]  Notes  183 

as  if  they  were  its  poles  ?  And  ours  is  but  a  little  life;  but  little  is 
included  between  those  poles,  so  little  that  we  thank  God  that  the 
later  pole  is  but  a  sleep.  The  accomplished  author  of  L.orna  Doone 
thus  freely  (and  legitimately)  employs  Shakespeare's  image  —  only 
there  is  one  word  which  one  might  wish  expunged,  namely  off 
before  of:  '  In  the  farthest  and  darkest  nook,  overgrown  with 
grass,  and  overhung  by  a  weeping  tree,  a  little  bank  of  earth 
betokened  the  rounding  off  of  a  hapless  life?  " 

It  was  a  happy  thought  to  take  this  passage  (151-158),  with  a 
few  verbal  changes  to  fit  it  to  the  purpose,  for  the  inscription  on 
the  monument  to  Shakespeare  in  Westminster  Abbey. 

167.  Presented.  Represented,  personated.  Cf.  M.  IV.  iv.  6, 
20 :  "  Present  the  fairy  queen." 

176.  Unback'd colts.  Cf.  M.  of.  V.v.  i.  "jl  fol.  See  also  V.  and 
A.  320. 

177.  Advanc''d.     See  on  i.  2.  407  above. 

186.  Trumpery.  Used  by  S.  only  here  and  in  W.  T.  iv.  4.  608 
("I  have  sold  all  my  trumpery"),  where  it  is  somewhat  contemp- 
tuous, as  now.  Perhaps  here  it  refers  to  cast-off  clothing.  Ariel 
seems  to  understand  what  is  meant  without  particular  description. 

187.  Stale.  Decoy,  bait.  Cf.  Sidney,  Arcadia:  "But  rather 
one  bird  caught  served  as  a  stale  to  bring  in  more";  Spenser,  F.  Q. 
ii.  I.  4:  "  he  craftie  stales  did  lay,"  etc. 

191.  With  age.  Luce  remarks  that  "this  is  much  too  old  for 
Caliban  "  ;  but  it  is  simply  =  "  with  time,"  or  "  as  he  grows  older." 

193.  Hang  them  on  this  line.  Line  is  the  old  name  for  the  lime 
or  linden  tree,  as  in  v.  i.  10  below;  and  the  tree  is  probal)ly  meant 
here.  Dyce  says  that  Stephano's  joke,  "  Now,  jerkin,  you  are  like 
to  lose  your  hair,"  has  no  point  unless  we  assume  the  "  line  "  to  be 
a  hair-line.  "  Buy  a  hair-line  "  is  one  of  the  cries  in  an  old  wood- 
cut of  161 1,  illustrating  the  trades  and  callings  of  that  day;  and  in 
Lyly's  Midas,  a  barber's  apprentice  facetiously  says,  "All  my 
mistres'  lynes  that  she  dryes  her  cloathes  on,  are  made  only  of 
Mustachio  stuffe  "   (that  is,  of  the  cuttings  of  moustaches).     No 


184  Notes  [Act  IV 

stress  need  be  laid  on  the  fact  that  it  is  not  easy  to  explain  the 
jokes  here,  if  a  tree  is  meant.  The  point  of  these  old  jokes  is 
often  entirely  lost,  or  very  doubtful.     See  on  ii.  i.  34,  64  above. 

198.  Jack.  Perhaps  =  Jack-o'-lantern,  or  Will-of-ths-wisp  ;  but 
of.  Much  Ado,  i.  I,  186:   "  play  the  flouting  Jack." 

201.  Good  my  lord.  My  good  lord.  Ql.  J.  C.  ii.  i.  255  :  "  Dear 
my  lord  ";  R.  and  J.  iii.  5.  200  :  "Sweet  my  mother,"  etc.  Lord 
may  be  a  dissyllable  here,  as  Abbott  makes  it. 

203.  Hoodwink  this  mischance  ;  that  is,  make  you  overlook  it,  or 
disregard  it. 

214.  Good  mischief.  For  the  "oxymoron,"  cf.  "loving  wrong" 
in  i.  2.  151. 

215.  /,  (hy  Caliban.     For  /=  me,  see  on  ii.  i,  29  above, 

219.  O  King  Stephano  !  O  peer  !  An  allusion  to  the  old  song, 
"Take  thy  old  cloak  about  thee,"  one.  stanza  of  which  (quoted  in 
0th.  ii.  3.  92)  begins,  "  King  Stephen  was  a  worthy  peer,"  etc. 

223.  A  frippery.  A  shop  for  second-hand  clothes.  S.  uses  the 
word  only  here. 

228.  Let 's  along.  The  folio  has  "  let's  alone  "  ;  corrected  by 
Theobald.  Some  retain  the  old  reading,  explaining  it  thus  :  "Let 
us  do  the  murder  alone,  without  the  Fool's  aid." 

231.  Make  lis  strange  stuff.  Subject  us  to  some  strange  trans- 
formation. 

233.  Jerkin.     A  kind  of  doublet. 

234.  To  lose  your  hair,  A  quibbling  allusion  to  the  loss  of  hair 
from  fever  (or  other  disease)  in  crossing  the  line,  or  equator ;  but 
its  application  to  the  jerkin  is  not  clear.     See  on  193  above. 

236.  Do,  do.  Not  easily  explained.  Some  take  it  to  be  = 
"  that  will  do  ;  "  referring  approvingly  to  Stephano's  jest. 

241.  Pass  of  pate.  Sally  of  wit.  Pass  (=  thrust)  is  a  term  in 
fencing.     Cf.  T.  N.  iii.  4.  302,  Ham.  v.  2.  173,  etc. 

243.  Lime.  Bird-lime;  as  in  7'.  G.  of  V.  iii.  2.  CS  and  Macb. 
jv.  2.  64. 

246.    Barnacles.     Probably  not  the  shell-llsli,  l)ut  the  geese  into 


Scene  I]  Notes  185 

which  these  were  supposed  to  be  transformed.     Marston  (^Makon- 
tent,  iii.  i)  says  :  — 

"  like  your  Scotch  barnacle,  now  a  block, 
Instantly  a  worm,  and  presently  a  great  goose." 

Gerard,  in  his  He rha II {l '■)<)'])  has  a  chapter  (referred  to  by  Wright) 
"Of  the  Goose  tree,  Barnakle  tree,  or  the  tree  bearing  Geese,"  in 
which  it  is  said,  "  There  are  founde  in  the  north  parts  of  Scotland, 
&  the  Hands  adiacent,  called  Orchades,  certaine  trees,  whereon  doe 
growe  certaine  shell  fishes,  of  a  white  colour  tending  to  russet ; 
wherein  are  conteined  little  liuing  creatures :  which  shels  in  time 
of  maturitie  doe  open,  and  out  of  them  grow  those  little  liuing 
things ;  which  falling  into  the  water,  doe  become  foules,  whom  we 
call  Barnakles,  in  the  north  of  England  Brant  Geese,  and  in  Lanca- 
shire tree  Geese."  Gerard  then  goes  on  to  tell  what  he  had  him- 
self seen  in  "  a  small  llande  in  Lancashire  called  the  Pile  of 
Fouldres,"  where  branches  of  trees  were  cast  ashore,  "  whereon  is 
found  a  certaine  spume  or  froth,  that  in  time  breedeth  vnto  certaine 
shels,  in  shape  Uke  those  of  the  muskle,  but  sharper  pointed,  and 
of  a  whitish  colour."  In  process  of  time  the  thing  contained  in 
these  shells  "  falleth  into  the  sea  where  it  gathereth  feathers,  and 
groweth  to  a  foule,  bigger  then  a  Mallard,  and  lesser  then  a  Goose; 
hauing  blacke  legs  and  bill  or  beake,  and  feathers  blacke  and 
white,  spotted  in  such  maner  as  is  our  Magge-Pie,  called  in  some 
places  a  Pie-Annet,  which  the  people  of  Lancashire  call  by  no 
other  name  then  a  tree  Goose  ;  which  place  aforesaide,  and  all 
those  parts  adioining,  do  so  much  abound  therewith,  tha  one  of 
the  best  is  bought  for  three  pence  :  for  the  truth  heerof,  if  any 
doubt,  may  it  please  them  to  repaire  vnto  me,  and  I  shall  satisfie 
them  by  the  testimonie  of  good  witnesses."  For  a  full  account  of 
this  old  superstition,  and  an  explanation  of  its  origin,  see  Max  Mul- 
ier's  Led.  on  the  Science  of  Language,  Second  Series,  pp.  552-571 
(Amer.  ed.). 

247.    Villanoits.     Used  a<lverbially,  as  adjectives  often  are  by  S, 


1 86  Notes  [Act  V 

Cf.  iii.  3.  19:  "Marvellous  sweet  music."  On  the  reproach  imphed 
in  low,  cf.  r.  G.  of  V.  iv.  4.  198  and  A.  and  C.  iii.  3.  35. 

257.  Dry.  Perhaps  suggested  by  the  idea  of  age,  like  cramps  in 
the  next  line. 

259.  Cat  0'  mountain.  Wildcat,  catamount.  Cf.  M.  IV.  ii.  2. 
27:  "Your  cat-a-mountain  looks"  (as  it  is  spelt  there).  Topsell 
{Hist,  of  Beasts,  1607)  makes  it  a  small  kind  of  leopard,  and  the 
spotted  indicates  that  this  is  the  meaning  here.  The  name  seems 
to  have  been  used  somewhat  loosely. 

261.  Lies  at  my  mercy, GX.C.  See  on  i.  i.  17  above.  Someeds.read 
"  Lie,"  but  there  is  no  reason  for  changing  the  old  construction. 


ACT  V 


Scene  I.  — 2.    Crack.     Break,  fail.     Cf.  31  below. 

3.  His  carriage.  His  load,  burden.  Cf.  M.  W.  ii.  2.  179:  "take 
all,  or  half,  for  easing  me  of  the  carriage."  See  also  Judges,  xviii. 
21,  I  Samuel,  xvii.  22,  Isaiah,  x.  28,  Acts,  xxi.  15,  etc. 

10.  Line-grove.  Changed  by  most  editors  to  "  lime-grove  ";  but 
see  on  iv.  i.  193  above.    Weather-fends  ~  defends  from  the  weather. 

11.  Till  your  release.  Till  you  release  them.  Your  is  a  "sub- 
jective genitive." 

15.   Him  thai  you  termed.     On  him  —  he,  see  on  ii.  i.  29  above. 

17.  Works.     "  Works  upon  "  (ii.  2.  80  above). 

18.  Affections.     Feelings  ;   as  often. 

23.  That  relish  all  as  sharply  Passion.  That  feel  everything 
with  the  same  quick  sensibility,  or  that  are  fully  as  sensitive  to  suf- 
fering. Some  make  passion  a  verb,  putting  a  comma  after  sharply; 
as  in  V.  and  A.  1059,  Z.  L.  L.  i.  i.  264,  etc. 

25.  High.  Often  used  by  S.  in  the  sense  of  excessive  or  ex- 
treme.    Cf.  iii.  3.  88,  V.  I.  177,  etc. 

33.  Ye  elves,  etc.  Some  expressions  in  this  speech  may  have 
been  suggested  by  Medea's  speech  in  Ovid's  Metamorphoses  (book 
vii.),  which  S.  had  probably  read  in  Golding's  translation:  — 


Scene  I]  Notes  187 

"  Ye  ayres  and  winds,  ye  elves  of  hills,  ofbrookes,  ofwoodes  alone, 
Of  standing  lakes,  and  of  the  night,  approche  ye  everych  one, 
Through  help  of  whom  (the  crooked  bankes  much  wondering  at  the 

thing) 
I  have  compelled  streames  to  run  clean  backward  to  their  spring. 
By  charmes  I  make  the  calm  seas  rough,  and  make  the  rough  seas 

playne. 
And  cover  all  the  skie  with  clouds,  and  chase  them  thence  again; 
By  charmes  /  raiie  and  lay  the  windes,  and  burst  the  viper's  jaw, 
And  from  the  bowels  of  the  earth  both  stones  and  trees  do  draw; 
Whole  woodes  and  forrests  I  remove,  /  make  the  mountains  shake. 
And  even  the  earth  itself  to  groan  and  fearfully  to  quake. 
/  call  up   dead  men  from   their  graves,  and   thee.  O    lightsome 

moone, 
I  darken  oft,  though  beaten  brass  abate  thy  peril  soone : 
Our  sorcerie  dimnies  the  morning  faire,  and  darks  the  sun  at  noone. 
The  flaming  breath  of  fierie  bulles  ye  quenched  for  my  sake, 
And  caused  their  unwieldy  neckes  the  bended  yoke  to  take. 
Among  the  earth-bred  brothers  you  a  mortal  warre  did  set. 
And  brought  asleep  the  dragon  fell,  whose  eyes  were  never  shet." 

34.  Printless  foot.  Apparently  imitated  by  Milton  in  Comus, 
897:  "printless  feet."  There  are  other  reminiscences  of  S.  in  the 
poem. 

36.  Denii-piippets.  The  demi-  seems  to  be  used  merely  to  em- 
phasize the  smallness  of  the  creatures. 

37.  Green  sour  ringlets.  "  Fairy  rings,"  or  circles  on  the  grass 
supposed  to  be  made  by  the  elves  in  their  nightly  dances.  Dr.  Grey 
{A'otes  on  S.)  says  they  "  are  higher,  sowrer,  and  of  a  deeoer  green 
than  the  grass  which  grows  round  them."  They  were  long  a  mys- 
tery even  to  scientific  men.  Priestley  (1767)  ascribed  them  to  the 
effects  of  lightning  ;  Pennant  (1776)  and  others,  to  the  burrowing 
of  moles,  by  which  the  soil  was  loosened  and  thus  made  more  pro- 
ductive ;  Wollaston  (1807),  to  the  spreading  of  a  kind  of  agaricum, 
or  fungus,  which  enriches  the  ground  by  its  decay.  This  last  expla- 
nation is  now  known  to  be  the  correct  one. 


i88  Notes  [Act  7 

39.  Mushrooms.  The  folio  has  the  old  form,  "  mushrumps." 
S.  uses  the  word  only  here. 

41.  Weak  masters.  Weak  individually,  and  weak  in  organizing 
power  ;  but  Prospero  knows  how  to  make  them  work  for  him  and 
aid  in  his  great  purposes.  Blackstone  explains  it  thus:  "ye  are 
powerful  auxiliaries,  but  weak  if  left  to  yourselves."  Jephson 
thinks  that  masters  is  "  used  ironically,  as  a  term  of  slight  con- 
tempt; "  but  the  irony,  if  such  it  be,  is  affectionate  rather  than 
contemptuous. 

Luce  remarks  that  the  following  lines  "  contain  some  of  the 
finest  sound  effects  in  S." 

43.  Azur''d.     Cf.  Cymb.  iv.  2.  222 :  "  the  azur'd  harebell." 

53.  Their  senses  thai.     The  senses  of  those  whom. 

54.  Airy  charm.  Magical  charm,  or  spirit  charm  ;  or,  perhaps, 
referring  to  the  music. 

58.  A  solemn  air,  etc.  May  this  solemn  air,  which  is  the  best 
comforter,  etc. 

60.  Boil'd.  Cf.  M.  N.  D.  v.  i.  4:  "seething  brains";  and  W. 
T.  iii.  3.  64:  "boiled  brains  of  nineteen  and  two-and-twenty." 

62.  Holy.  Often  used  by  S.  as  =  pious,  righteous,  or  virtuous. 
Cf.  T.  G.  of  V.  ii.  5.  41,  M.  of  V.  i.  2.  30,  W.  T.  v.  i.  2.9,  K.John, 
iii.  3.  15,  etc. 

63.  Sociable  to  the  sho2v,  etc.  Sympathizing  with  what  appears 
in  thine. 

64.  Fall.  See  on  ii.  i.  303  above.  Fellowly  (=  sympathetic)  is 
used  by  S.  only  here. 

67.  The  ignorant  fumes,  etc.  The  fumes  of  ignorance  that  ob- 
scure their  clearer  reason.     For  mantle,  cf.  iv.  I.  1S2  above. 

69.  Sir.  Gentleman;  as  in  T.  N.  iii.  4.  81  :  "some  sir  of 
note";    Cymb.  i.  6.  160:  "the  worthiest  sir,"  etc. 

70.  /  'cvill  pay  thy  graces  Ilotne.  I  will  repay  thy  favours  to  the 
utmost,  or  thoroughly.  Cf,  I  Hen.  IV.  i,  3,  288 :  "  pay  us  home  "; 
Cymb.  iii.  5.  92  :  "satisfy  me  home,"  etc.  We  still  say  "charge 
home"  (t'yr.  i.  4.  38)  and  "stiike  home"  {Id.  iv.  i.  8), 


Scene  I]  iNoteS  1 89 

76.  Remorse  and  nature.  Pity  and  natural  affection.  Cf.  C.  of 
E.  i.  I.  35  :   "was  wrought  by  nature,  not  by  vile  offence." 

81.  Reasonable  shore.  Shore  of  reason.  Cf.  ignorant  fumes 
above. 

85.  Disease  me.  Undress  myself.  Cf.  W.  T.  iv.  4.  648:  "there- 
fore disease  thee." 

86.  Sometime.     Formerly  ;   as  often. 

91.  /  do  fly  After  summer.  Cf.  M.  A^.  D.  iv.  I.  lOl  :  "Trip  we 
after  the  night's  shade";  and  Milton,  Hymn  on  Nativ.  236:  "Fly 
after  the  night-steeds,"  etc.  Critics  have  made  sad  work  of  the 
Song  by  attempts  to  improve  the  pointing  of  the  folio,  which  is 
essentially  as  I  have  given  it.  The  meaning  is  well  brought  out  by 
Verplanck  :  "At  night,  'when  owls  do  cry,'  Ariel  couches  'in  a 
cowslip's  bell ';  and  he  uses  '  the  bat's  back  '  as  his  pleasant  vehicle 
to  pursue  summer  in  its  progress  round  the  world,  and  thus  live 
merrily  under  continual  blossoms."  It  has  been  objected  that  bats 
do  not  "  fly  after  summer,"  but  become  torpid  in  winter ;  but,  even 
if  the  poet  had  known  this  zoological  fact,  he  might  none  the  less 
have  made  Ariel  use  the  creature  for  his  purposes.  The  "  tricksy 
spirit "  was  not  limited  by  natural  laws. 

100.  Being  awake.     When  awakened. 

103.   Or  ere.     See  on  i.  2.  11  above. 

105.  Inhabits.     Cf.  iii.  3.  57  above. 

112.  Trifle  to  abuse  me.  Phantom  to  deceive  me.  Cf.  Ham.  ii. 
2.  632  •  "  Abuses  me  to  damn  me." 

113.  I  not  know.     See  on  ii.  i.  129,  and  cf.  38  above. 

114.  Since  I  saw  thee.  We  should  now  say  "  have  seei.  thee." 
Cf.  A.  and  C.  i.  3.  I :  "I  did  not  see  him  since  " ;  Hen.  V.  iv.  7. 
58:  "I  was  not  angry  since  I  came  to  France,"  etc. 

117.  An  if  this  be  at  all.     If  indeed  there  be  any  reality  in  it. 

118.  Thy  dukedom.  Referring  to  the  tribute  to  be  paid  him  by 
Antonio.     See  i.  2.  120  fol. 

119.  Mywrongs.  The  wrongs  I  have  done.  Cf.  ii  (and  25I 
above. 


190  Notes  [Act  V 

1 23.  Taste  Some  subtleties  d'  the  isle.  "  This  is  a  phrase  adopted 
from  ancient  cookery  and  confectionery.  When  a  dish  was  so  con- 
trived as  to  appear  unUke  what  it  really  was,  they  called  it  a  sud- 
tilty.  Dragons,  castles,  trees,  etc.,  made  out  of  sugar,  had  the 
like  denomination"  (Steevens).  Furness  feels  "a  certain  repug- 
nance "  to  similes  "  drawn  from  the  kitchen,"  especially  in  the 
mouth  of  Prospero;  but  S.  has  not  a  few  such,  and  others  as 
homely  in  their  origin.  The  use  of  brine  for  pickling  or  preserving 
meat,  for  instance,  is  a  favourite  figure  with  him;  as  in  T.  N/\.  i. 
30,  A.  W.  i.  I.  55,  R.  and  J.  ii.  3.  72,  L.  C.  18  (where  a  wash-tub 
metaphor  is  combined  with  it),  etc.  He  can  go  to  the  barnyard 
for  a  figure;  as  in  Cor.  v.  3.  162  and  Sonn.  136,  For  other  homely 
comparisons,  see  Cor.  iii.  i.  252  (patching  a  garment),  Cymb.  iii. 
4.  53  (ripping  up  an  old  one),  Hen.  V.  ii.  2.  137,  W.  T.  iv.  4.  375, 
T.  G.  of  V.  iii.  2.  51,  etc. 

127.  Pluck.  Bring  down.  Cf.  A.  IV.  iii.  2.  32:  "pluck  his  in- 
dignation on  thy  head."  Pluck  is  a  favourite  word  with  S.  He 
uses  it  more  than  two  hundred  times. 

\2%.  Justify  you  traitors.  Prove  you  traitors.  Qi.  A.  W.'w.t,. 
64:  "Second  Lord.  How  is  this  justified?  First  Lord.  The 
stronger  part  of  it  by  her  own  letters." 

129.  77/  tell  no  tales.  But  he  has  just  done  so.  Cf.  75  fol.  above. 
No  is  an  answer  to  Sebastian's  aside. 

139.  /  am  woe  for^t.  I  am  sorry  for  it.  Cf.  A.  and  C.  iv.  14. 
:  33  :  "  Woe,  woe  are  we,  sir." 

142.   Ofxvkose  soft  grace.     By  whose  kind  favour. 

145.  As  late.  As  it  is  recent;  but  some  explain  it,  " and  z.i 
recent."  Supportable  is  accented  on  the  first  syllable  ;  unless  we 
scan  the  Hne  thus  :  "As  great  |  to  me  |  as  late  ;  |  and  support  \ 
able."  Cf.  " detestdble"  {K.  John,  iii.  4.  29,  T.  of  A.  iv.  i.  33) 
and  " delectdble"  {k'ich.  IL.  ii.  3.  7),  Steevens  reads  "portable," 
a  word  used  by  S.  in  this  sense  in  Lear,  iii.  6.  1 15  and  Macb.  iv.  3. 
89.     Supportable  he  has  only  here. 

149.    Were  living.     "  The  subjunctive  used  optatively." 


Scene  I]  Notes  I9I 

151.  Myself  were  tnndJed,  etc.  Cf.  iii.  3.  102  fol.  above.  Myself 
and  other  reflexive  pronouns  are  not  infrequently  used  as  nomina- 
tives.    Cf.  T.  G.  of  V.  iii.  i.  23,  Rick.  11.  ii.  i.  29,  etc. 

154.  Admire.  Wonder.  Cf.  T.  N.  iii.  4.  165:  "wonder  not, 
nor  admire  in  thy  mind,"  etc. 

160.    Which  was  thrust  forth.     See  on  i.  2.  350  and  iii.  i.  6. 

170.  To  content  ye.  Content  (cf.  the  French  contenter)  often  = 
"please"  or  "  delight"  in  S.  Cf.  Ham.  iii.  i.  24:  "it  doth  much 
content  me  To  hear  him,"  etc. 

171.  "  Here  Prospero  discouers  Ferdinand  and  Miranda,  playing 
at  Chesse."  Such  is  the  stage  direction  in  the  folio.  It  is  the  only 
allusion  to  chess  in  S.,  unless  there  be  a  punning  one  in  T.  of  S.  i. 
I.  58,  where  Katharine  says,  "I  pray  you,  sir,  is  it  your  will  To 
make  a  stale  of  me  amongst  these  mates  ?  "  Steevens  thinks  that 
the  introduction  of  the  game  here  was  suggested  by  the  romance 
of  Hiion  de  Bordeatix,  where  "  King  Ivoryn  caused  his  daughter  to 
play  at  the  chesse  with  Huon,"  etc.  But,  as  Professor  Allen  suggests 
in  the  Phila.  ed.,  even  if  S.  did  take  a  hint  from  that  old  romance, 
it  was  probably  because  he  was  aware  that  there  was  a  special 
appropriateness  in  representing  a  prince  of  Naples  as  a  chese-player, 
since  Naples,  in  his  day,  "  was  the  centre  of  chess-playing,"  and 
probably  famed  as  such  throughout  Europe. 

172.  Play  me  false.     Cheat  me. 

174.  Wrangle.  Dispute  or  quarrel  with  me.  She  would  forgive 
him,  however  he  might  cheat  her  in  the  game. 

175.  If  this  prove,  etc.  Alonso  has  lost  his  son  once,  and  if  this 
which  he  now  sees  prove  a  mere  vision,  he  will  have  to  lose  him 
again.  The  passage  would  seem  to  be  clear  enough,  out  one 
critic  at  least  has  been  puzzled  by  it,  and  would  insert  not  after  prove. 

186.  Eld'st.  For  the  harsh  contraction,  cf.  dear'st,  ii.  I.  144 
and  strongest,  iv.  I.  26  above.  It  was  a  strange  whim  with  S.  and 
other  writers  of  the  time,  as  the  extra  unaccented  syllable  is  metri- 
cally admissible  in  all  such  cases. 

196.    I  am  hers.     That  is,  her  father. 


192  Notes  [Act  V 

199.  Remembrances.  The  plural  is  used  because  of  the  refer- 
ence to  more  than  one  person  (see  011  iii.  3.  67)  ;  but  it  may  be 
pronounced  like  the  singular.     See  o\\  princess,  i.  2.  173  above. 

200.  Inly.  Inwardly ;  as  in  Hen.  V.  iv.  chor.  24  :  "  inly  ru- 
minate." 

203.  Ckalk'd  forth  the  way.  We  should  say  "  chalked  out  the 
way."     Cf.  Hen.  VIII.  i.  i.  60  :    "Chalks  successors  their  way." 

213.  No  nan  was  his  own.  Was  master  of  himself,  or  in  his 
senses. 

214.  Still  embrace.     Ever  embrace.     See  on  i.  2.  229  above. 

216.  Here  is  more  of  us  !    See  on  i.  2.  477  above. 

217.  I  prophesied,  etc.     See  i.  I.  30  above. 

218.  Blasphemy.  Cf.  " diligence "  in  241  below,  and  "malice" 
in  i.  2.  365  above. 

221.  Safely  found  Our  king  and  company.  That  is,  found  them 
safe.  Cf.  just  below,  "freshly  beheld,"  etc.  S.  often  uses  adverbs 
as  "predicate  adjectives."  Cf.  above  (iii.  i.  32),  "look  wearily" 
for  "look  weary."  So  in  M.  IV.  ii.  i.  198  :  "looks  so  merrily"; 
A.  y.  I.  i.  2.  162  :  "he  looks  successfully,"  etc.  But  elsewhere 
we  have  "looks  pale,"  "looks  sad,"  "look  stern,"  "look  fair,"  etc. 
We  find  also  the  adjective  for  the  adverb,  as  in  i  Hen.  VI.  i.  2. 
117  :  "  Meantime  look  gracious  on  thy  prostrate  thrall,"  etc.  The 
two  constructions  are  often  confounded  by  good  writers  even  in 
our  day. 

223.  Gave  out  split.  Gave  up  as  gone  to  pieces.  Cf.  A.  W.  ii. 
3.  16  :    "gav«  him  out  incurable,"  etc.     Vax glasses,  see  on  i.  2.  240. 

224.  Yare.     See  on  i.  i.  4  above. 

226.  Tricksy.  Richardson  {Diet.')  defines  the  word  "trickish, 
artful,  dexterous,  adroit,  active,  smart,"  and  cites  Warner,  Albioti's 
Eng.  vi.  31  :  — 

"  There  was  a  tricksie  girle,  I  wot, 
Albeit  clad  in  grey, 
As  pert  as  bird,  as  straite  as  boult. 
As  fresh  as  flower  in  May." 


Scene  I]  Notes  193 

230.  Dead  of  sleep.  In  a  dead  sleep.  Malone  reads  "  on  sleep" 
(cf.  Acts,  xiii.  36),  but  on  and  of  were  often  used  interchangeably. 

232.  But  even  now.  Just  now.  Several  —  separate,  distinct. 
See  on  iii.  i.  42  above. 

234.   Moe.     See  on  ii.  i.  141  above. 

238.  Capering  to  eye  her.  Jumping  for  joy  at  the  sight  of  bar. 
S.  understood  the  sailor's  love  for  his  ship. 

On  a  trice.  We  say  "  in  a  trice,"  as  S.  does  elsewhere.  In 
Lear,  i.  I.  219  we  have  "  in  this  trice  of  time." 

240.  Moping.  The  folio  has  "  moaping,"  but  some  editors 
print  "  mopping  "  (  =  grimacing).  The  Phila.  ed.  explains  it  rightly : 
"  Depressed  and  moping,  because  suddenly  interrupted  in  the  midst 
of  their  rejoicing,  separated  from  their  companions,  and  'enforced' 
to  go,  whither  they  knew  not,  by  some  irresistible  supernatural 
power."     For  mop,  see  on  iv.  i.  47. 

244.  Conduct.  Conductor.  Cf.  Rich.  II.  iv.  i.  157  :  "I  will  be 
his  conduct  "  ;  R.  and  /.  v.  3.  1 16  :  "  Come,  bitter  conduct,  come, 
unsavoury  guide  !  "  etc. 

246.  Infest.  Vex;  used  by  S.  only  here.  For  beating  on,  cf. 
i.  2.  176  and  iv.  I.  163  above.  See  also  2  Hen.  VI.  ii.  i.  20  and 
Ham.  iii.  I.  182. 

248.  Single  1 7/  resolve  you.  In  private  I  will  explain  to  you. 
For  resolve,  cf./.  C.  iii.  i.  131,  iii.  2.  183,  iv.  2.  14,  etc. 

249.  Which  to  you  shall  seem,  etc.  Which  explanation,  etc. 
Every  these  —  every  one  of  these. 

250.  Accidents.     Incidents,  events  ;  as  in  306  below. 

258.  Coragio.  Courage  (Italian).  It  occurs  again  in  /i.  IV.  ii. 
5.  97  :  "  Bravely,  coragio  !  " 

259.  These  be.     Cf.  iii,  i.  i  above. 

262.  Fine.  Referring  to  the  ducal  robes  which  Prospero  has 
put  on.     See  85  above. 

267.  Badges.  The  stolen  apparel  they  had  on.  Johnson  says : 
"The  sense  is,  '  Mark  what  these  men  wear,  and  say  if  they  are 
honest.'  "     "  In  the  time  of  S.  all  the  servants  of  the  nobility  wore 

THE  TEMPEST —  1 3 


194  Notes  [Act  V 

siWer  badges  on  their  liveries,  on  which  the  arms  of  their  masters 
were  engraved  "  (Nares).  Hence  the  allusion  here  and  in  several 
other  passages  in  S.     Cf.  K.  of  L.  1053:  — • 

"  To  clear  this  spot  by  death,  at  least  I  give 
A  badge  of  fame  to  slander's  livery." 

268.  True.  Honest.  True  man  is  often  opposed  to  thief ;  a» 
Is  Much  Ado,  iii.  3.  34,  Z.  L.  L.  iv.  3.  187,  i  Hen.  IV.  ii.  2.  98,  etc 

269.  One  so  strong  That,  etc.  The  relative  is  often  thus  usea 
after  such  and  so.     Cf.  316  below, 

271.  Deal  in  her  com?nand,  etc.  "Act  as  her  vicegerent  with- 
out being  authorized,  or  empotoered  so  to  do  "  (Malone).  Staunton 
may  be  right  in  making  without  her  power  =  "  beyond  her  power  " 
{ci.M.N.  D.  iv.  I.  150). 

277.  Stephano.  Pronounced  correctly,  with  the  first  syllable 
accented.  S.  had  found  that  out  since  writing  the  M.  of  V., 
where  (v.  i.  28,  51)  he  accents  the  penult. 

279.  Reeling-ripe.  Ripe  may  be  one  of  the  many  "slang" 
terms  for  drunk,  or  reeling-ripe  (ripe,  or  fit  for  reeling)  may  be  a 
compound  like  weeping-ripe  in  L.  L.  L.  v.  2.  274  and  sinking-ripe 
in  C.  of  E.  i.  i.  78. 

280.  This  grand  liquor,  etc.  An  allusion  to  the  "  grand  elixir," 
or  aurum  potahile  of  the  alchemists,  which  they  pretended  would 
confer  immortal  youth  upon  him  who  drank  it.  It  was  a  joke  of 
the  time  to  compare  sack  to  this  elixir,  and  "  gilded  "  is  elsewhere 
found  in  the  same  sense  as  here.  In  Fletcher's  Chances  (iv.  3),  in 
reply  to  the  question,  "  Is  she  not  drunk  too  ?  "  we  find,  "  A  little 
gilded  o'er,  sir;  old  sack,  old  sack,  boys  !  " 

283.   I  fear  me.     Cf,  "  retire  me  "  in  311  below. 

289,  Sore.     For  the  play  on  the  word,  cf.  2  Hen  VT.  iv.  7,  9. 

290.  This  is  a  strange  thing,  etc.  Steevens  reads  "  as  strange  a 
thing,"  but  other  examples  of  the  ellipsis  are  to  be  found  in  S. 

296.    Seek  for  grace.     Seek  for  pardon. 

309.    The  nuptial.     S.  always  uses  nuptial,  except  in  0th.  ii.  2.  8 


Scene  I]  Notes 


^9S 


(quarto  text  only)  and  Per.  v.  3.  80.  On  the  other  hand,  he  has 
funerals  (cf.  the  Latin  funera,  and  the  French  funernilles)  in 
/.  C.  V.  3.  105  and  T.  A.  i.  i.  381  (if  that  be  his),  though  else- 
where his  word  \%  funeral.     Nuptial  is  here  a  trisyllable. 

310.  Our  dear  helov  d solenitiized.  This  is  the  metre  of  the  folio, 
and  is  followed  by  some  editors,  while  others  print  it  "  dear-beloved 
solemniz'd."  But  we  have  "  solemnized  "  in  Z.  L.  L.  ii.  I.  42  : 
"  Of  Ja-ques  Falconbridge  so-lem-nized."  Cf.  the  one  instance  of 
the  word  in  Milton  (/".  Z.  vii.  448):  "Evening  and  morn  so- 
lemniz'd the  fifth  day."  In  M.  of  V.  ii.  9.  6,  K.John,  ii.  i.  539, 
and  I  Hen,  VI.  v,  3.  168,  the  only  other  instances  in  which  S.  uses 
the  word  in  verse,  it  is  "  solemniz'd."  This  peculiarity  of  accent  is 
found  in  other  words  ending  in  -ized  (or  -ised),  as  advertised, 
candnized,  autkSrized,  etc. 

314.    I  'II  deliver  all.     I'll  relate  all.     Cf.  ii.  i.  47  above. 

319,  Please  you.  If  it  please  you.  The  verb  was  originally  im- 
personaL     For  the  full  form,  see  iii.  3.  42  above. 


EPILOGUE 


It  is  well  known  that  the  Prologues  and  Epilogues  of  the  English 
Drama  are  generally  written  by  other  persons  than  the  authors  of 
the  plays,  and  White  with  good  reason  thinks  that  this  Epilogue, 
though  printed  in  the  folio,  bears  internal  evidence  of  being  no  ex- 
ception to  the  rule.  The  thoughts  are  "  poor  and  commonplace," 
and  the  rhythm  is  "  miserable  and  eminently  un-Shakt  pearian." 
It  is  apparently  from  the  same  pen  as  the  Epilogue  to  Henry 
VIII.  — "  possibly  Ben  Jonson's,  whose  verses  they  much  re- 
semble." The  Epilogue  to  2  Hen.  IV.  is  another  that  is  evidently 
not  Shakespeare's  ;  and  it  is  a  significant  fact  that,  in  the  folio, 
these  three  Epilogues  "  are  plainly  pointed  out  as  separate  per- 
formances." "  For  in  these  plays  the  characters  are  all  sent  off 
the  stage  by  the  direction  Exeunt,  and  the  Epilogue  is  set  forth  as 


196 


Notes 


something  apart  from  the  play,  being,  in  one  case,  separated  from 
it  by  a  single  rule,  in  another  by  double  rules,  and  in  the  third 
being  printed  on  a  page  by  itself,  while  in  the  other  plays  the 
Exeunt  or  Exit  is  not  directed  until  after  the  Epilogue,  which  is 
included  within  the  single  border-rule  of  the  page,  no  separation 
of  any  kind  being  made,"  A  comparison  of  the  various  Epilogues 
shows  that  "  this  arrangement  has  no  reference  to  the  personage 
by  whom  the  Epilogue  is  to  be  spoken ;  "  and,  as  no  other  ex- 
planation of  it  can  be  given,  it  is  probable  that  the  editors  of  the 
folio  meant  thus  to  indicate  that  the  Epilogues  are  not  Shake- 
speare's. Furness  agrees  with  White,  but  most  of  the  editors 
apparently  believe  that  S.  wrote  the  present  Epilogue. 

10.  With  the  help  of  your  good  hands.  By  your  applause,  by 
clapping  hands.  Noise,  like  speech,  was  supposed  to  dissolve  a 
spell.  Cf.  iv.  I.  126  above:  "hush,  and  be  mute,  Or  else  our  spell 
is  marr'd." 

16.  Unless  I  he  7-eliev'd  by  p7-ayer.  "This  alludes  to  the  old 
stories  told  of  the  despair  of  necromancers  in  their  last  moments, 
and  of  the  efficacy  of  the  prayers  of  their  friends  for  them  "  (War- 
burton).  It  may,  however,  be  an  allusion  to  "  the  custom,  preva- 
lent in  S.'s  time,  of  concluding  the  play  by  a  prayer,  offered  up 
kneeling,  for  the  sovereign  ;  "  or  both  allusions  may  be  combined. 

18.  Mercy  itself.  The  divine  Mercy.  Frees  all  faults  —  absolves 
all  faults.  Cf  R.  of  L.  1208:  "My  life's  foul  deed,  my  life's  fair 
end  shall  free  it";  Ham.  v.  2.  253:  "  Free  me  so  far  in  your  most 
generous  thoughts,"  etc. 


APPENDIX 

The  Magic  in  the  Play 

In  reading  The  Tempest  we  must  bear  in  mind  that  the  belief  in 
magic  and  witchcraft  was  in  Shakespeare's  day  an  established  article 
in  the  popular  creed,  and  accepted  by  the  great  majority  of  the 
cultivated  and  learned.  To  attack  it  was  a  bold  thing  to  do,  and  few 
v/riters  had  ventured  it.  In  15S3  Howard,  Earl  of  Northampton, 
published  his  Defensative  against  the  Poyson  of  Supposed  Proph- 
ecies, and  in  1584  Reginald  Scot  brought  out  his  Discoverie  of 
Witchcraft,  in  which,  with  great  learning  and  ability,  he  exposed 
the  pretensions  of  the  magicians  and  their  craft.  He  made  many 
enemies  by  it;  and  James  I.  ordered  all  the  copies  of  it  that  could 
be  found  to  be  burned  by  the  public  hangman.  In  1603  the  king 
published  his  own  book  on  Da:)iionologie,\\\  the  preface  to  which  lie 
asserts  that  he  wrote  the  book  "chiefly  against  the  damnable  opin- 
ions of  Wierus^  and  Scot."  Richard  Bernard,  an  eminent  Puritan 
divine,  also  took  Scot  to  task  in  his  Guide  to  Grand  Jurymen  with 
respect  to  Witches  (1627);  as  also  did  Joseph  Glanvil  (in  his  Bloiu 
at  Modern  Sadducism,  etc.)  and  sundry  other  authors  of  the  time. 
Burton,  in  his  Anatomy  of  Melancholy  (1621),  records  that  magic, 
in  which  he  appears  to  have  been  a  believer  himself,  is  "practised 
by  some  now;  "  and  he  says  that  the  Roman  emperors  "were  never 
so  much  addicted  to  magic  of  old  as  some  of  our  modern  princes 
and  popes  are  nowadays." 

iThis  "Wierus"  was  John  van  Wier  (or  Weier),  a  distinguished 
Dutch  physician  (1515-1558),  who  is  said  to  have  been  the  first  writer 
to  oppose  the  belief  in  witchcraft,  by  his  work  entitled  De  Prcestigiis 
Dcemonum  et  tncantationibus  ac  Veneficiis  (1563), 

197 


198  Appendix 

We  have  no  reason  to  suppose  that  Shakespeare  believed  in 
magic.  From  his  14th  Sonnet  we  may  infer  that  he  did  not  believe 
even  in  astrology,  as  most  people  did  long  after  his  day;  and  yet 
Prospero  is  the  grandest  conception  of  the  magician  to  be  found  in 
all  our  literature.  The  delineation  is  in  strict  accordance  with  the 
prevalent  theory  of  the  magic  art,  and  yet  it  is  so  ennobled  and 
idealized  that  in  our  day,  when  that  theory  is  reckoned  among  the 
dead  superstitions  of  a  bygone  age,  we  see  nothing  mean  or  un- 
worthy in  it. 

Prospero  belongs  to  the  higher  orderof  magicians  — those  who 
commanded  the  services  of  superior  intelligences  —  in  distinction 
from  those  who,  by  a  league  made  with  Satan,  submitted  to  be  his 
imtrumeiits,  paying  for  theenjoyment  of  the  supernatujal— pgger 
thus  gained  the  price  of  their  souls'  salvation.  The  former  class  of 
magicians,  as  Scot  remarks,  "  professed  an  art  which  some  fond 
[foolish]  divines  affirm  to  be  more  honest  and  lawful  than  necro- 
mancy, wherein  they  work  by  good  angels."  Thus  we  find  Prospero 
exercising  his  power  over  elves  and  goblins  through  the  medium  of 
Ariel,  a  spirit  "  too  delicate  to  act  the  abhorred  commands  "  of  the 
foul  witch  Sycorax,  but  who  answered  his  best  pleasure  and  obeyed 
his  "strong  bidding." 

The  poet  has,  moreover,  given  to  Prospero  some  of  the  ordinary 
adjuncts  of  the  professional  magician  of  the  time.  Peculiar  virtue 
was  inherent  in  his  i-obe,  according  to  Scot  and  other  writers ;  and 
we  find  Prospero  saying  to  Miranda :  — 

"  Lend  thy  hand 
And  pluck  my  magic  garment  from  me  ;" 

and  as  it  is  laid  aside  he  adds,  "  Lie  theie,  my  art." 

His  jfrt«(/also,  as  in  the  case  of  ordinary  conjurors,  was  a  potent 
instrument     With  it  he  renders  Ferdinand  helpless:  — 

"  I  can  here  disarm  thre  w  ith  this  stick. 
And  make  thy  weapon  drop."  - 


Appendix  199 

/'xnd  when  he  abjures  his  art  he  is  to  break  his  staff  and  "bury  it 
^pertain  lathoms  m  the  earth,"  lest  it  should  fall  into   hands   that 
might  not  use  it  as  wisely  and  beneficently  as  he  has  done. 

His  books  were  ol  yel  gfeaitif  Itrtpoftatice  to  his  art  ;  and  these 
the  old  magicians  were  supposed  to  guard  with  the  utmost  care. 
Scot  says:  "These  conjurors  carry  about  at  this  day  books  intituled 
under  the  names  of  Adam,  Abel,  Toby,  and  Enoch  ;  which  Enoch 
they  repute  the  most  divine  fellow  in  such  matters.  They  have  also 
among  them  books  that  they  say  Abraham,  Aaron,  and  Solomon 
made  ;  .  .  .  also  of  the  angels,  Riziel,  Razael,  and  Raphael." 
Hence,  we  find  Prospero  saying :  — 

"  I'll  to  my  book, 
For  yet  ere  supper-lime  must  I  perform 
Much  matter  appertaining  ;  " 

and  he  is  to  drown  his  book  "deeper  than  did  ever  plummet  sound," 
when  he  breaks  his  staff,  and  for  the  same  reason.^  Caliban,  too, 
says : — 

"  Remember 

First  to  possess  his  books ;  for  without  them 

He's  but  a  sot,  as  I  am,  nor  hath  not 

One  spirit  to  command." 

But  while  Shakespeare  has  thus  given  apt|ialjj^tfl  his  noble  magi- 
cian by  these  externals  of  his  art,  he  has  avoided  introducing  the, 
vulgar  machinery  connected  with  it.  We  are  not  shown  how  his 
spells  are  wrought.     The  silence  requisite  for  their  success — a  con- 

1  So,  in  The  Lay  of  the  Last  Minstrel,  the  old  monk  tells  Deloraine 
how  Michael  Scott  on  his  dying  bed  gave  orders  that  his  magic  book 
should  be  buried :  — 

"  I  swore  to  bury  his  Mighty  Book, 
That  never  mortal  might  therein  look, 
And  never  to  tell  where  it  was  hid, 
Save  at  his  Chief  of  Branksome's  need." 


200  Appendix 

dition  associated  with  the  most  ancient  accounts  of  the  magic  art  — 
is  insisted  upon :  — 

"  Hush,  and  be  mute, 
Or  else  our  spell  is  marr'd." 

Had  not  the  poet  observed  a  like  reticence  as  to  the  details  of  the 
enchantments,  his  spell  over  us  had  been  marred.  If  he  had  intro- 
duced the  forms  and  ceremonies  of  conjuration  and  adjuration  de- 
scribed by  Scot,  the  effect  would  have  been  either  ludicrous  or 
disgustingi_  In  Macbeth,  vvherc  the  Witches  were  meant  to  appear 
the  black  and  midnight  hags  they  really  were,  we  have  all  the  de- 
tails of  their  infernal  cuisine.  The  hell-broth  is  concocted  before 
our  eyes,  and  all  the  foul  and  poisonous  ingredients  are  enumerated 
in  the  song  the  beldams  croak  as  they  dance  about  the  cauldron. 
But  here  in  The  Tempest  the  spells  and  incantations  are  only  hinted 
at :  "  my  charms  crack  not,"  "  my  spirits  obey,"  '^ntie  the  spell," 
etc.  In  the  one  case  the  art  of  the  poet  is  as  conspicuous  in  what 
it  hides  as  in  the  other  in  what  it  reveals. 

The  spirits  were  of  various  orders,  according  to  their  abods  or 
sphere  of  operation,  "  whether,"  to  quote  Hamlet,  "  in  sea  or  fire, 
in  partVi  pr  air  "  fVip  four  ancient  "  elements."     In  the  storm  ArieF 


plays  the  part  of  a  fire-spirit,  "  dividing  and  burning  in  many  places" 
till  the  ship  was  all  ablaze  with  him.  Watpr-sp!rifs  or^ea-nymphs 
sing  the  knell  of  Ferdinand's  father  in  the  ditty  that  deceives  the 
weeping  prince  ;  and  later  Prospero  invokes  the  elves  of  brooks 
and  standing  lakes,  and  those  that  "  on  the  sands  with  printless  feet 
do  chase  the  ebbing  Neptune."  The  earth-spirits,  or  goblins,  are 
the  ones  set  upon  Caliban  to  torment  him;  and  air-spirits  are  the 
musicians  of  the  supernatural  realm  over  which  the  magician  holds 
dominion,  filling  the  air  at  his  bidding  with  sweet  strains  beyond 
the  touch  of  mortal  art. 

Over  all  this  spirit  world  Prospero  bears  sovereign  rule  by  the 
power  of  aj oniiijanding  intellect.^  His  subjects  are  "  weak  masters," 
he  says ;  that  is,  weak  individually,  weak  in  the  capacity  for  com 


Appendix  201 

bining  to  make  the  most  of  their  ability  to  do  certain  things  that 
men  cannot  do.  Prospero  i<no\vs  how  to  make  them  work  in  car- 
rying out  his  far-reaching  plans.  "  By  your  aid,"  he  says,  "  weak 
masters,  though  ye  be,"  I  have  wrought  the  marvels  of  my  art. 

Shakespeare,  while,  as  I  have  said,  he  has  managed  the  super- 
natural part  of  the  play  in  strict  accordance  with  the  theories  of 
that  day  concerning  magic,  has  at  the  same  time  avoided  every- 
thing that  was  ridiculous  or  revolting  in  the  popular  belief.  He 
thus  exercises,  as  it  were,  a  magic  power  over  the  vulgar  magic, 
lifting  it  from  prose  into  poetry;  and  while  doing  this  he  has  con- 
trived to  maKe"  it  all  so  entirely  consistent  with  what  we  may 
conceive  of  as  possible  to  human  science  and  skill  that  it  seems  as 
real  as  it  is  marvellous.  It  is  at  once  supernatural  and  natural.  It 
is  the  highest  exercise  of  the  magic  art,  and  yet  it  all  goes  on  with 
as  little  jar  to  our  credulity  as  the  ordinary  sequence  of  events  in 
our  everyday  life. 

Sundry  attempts  have  been  made  to  prove  The  Tempest  an  alle.- 
gory,  but  Shakespeare  had  no  such  intention.  The  human  charac- 
ters are  men  and  women  distinctly  individualized,  not  abstractions 
personified.  Prospero,  great  as  he  is  both  as  man  and  as  magician, 
is  not  perfect,  —  not  the  ideal  type  of  human  genius  and  character, 
and  not  absolute  master  of  himself.  This  is  the  explanation  of 
something  in  the  second  scene  which  has  puzzled  and  misled  some 
of  the  commentators,  and  of  which  no  one  of  them,  so  far  as  I  am 
aware,  has  given  the  correct  interpretation.  When  Prospero  is  tell- 
ing Miranda  the  story  of  her  early  life,  why  does  he  again  and  again 
charge  her  with  being  inattentite  to  a  narration  in  which  it  is  im- 
possible that  she  should  not  be  intensely  interested?  If  we  could 
have  any  doubt  on  this  point,  it  ought  to  be  removed  by  her  evident 
surprise  that  he  could  suppose  her  a  careless  or  indifferent  listener 
to  so  thrilling  a  tale.  It  is  amazing  that  two  critics  at  least  should 
have  taken  the  ground  that  Miranda  is  not  listening  attentively. 
Her  thoughts,  they  agree  in  telling  us,  are  wandering  off  to  the 
foundered  ship  and  the  unfortunate  folk  in  it,  for  whom  her  tender 


202  Appendix 

heart  was  so  deeply  moved  when  she  witnessed  the  shipwreck.  A 
keener  critic  gets  somewhat  nearer  the  truth  when  he  says,  "  He 
thinks  she  is  not  listening  attentively  to  his  speech,  partly  because 
he  is  not  attending  to  it  himself,  his  thoughts  being  busy  with  the 
approaching__crig'g  '-"f  hie  fnrt-nne,  and  Hravvn  away  to  tjie_other 
matters  which  he  hasji  VignH,  gnd  partly  because  in  Jier  tranc^_of 
wonder  at  what  heis_relating  she_seems  abstracted_and  self-with; 
drawnjrom  the  matter  of  his  discourse."  But  it  is  not  mere  menial 
abstraction  on  his  part,  —  if,  indeed,  this  were  possible  in  telling  the 
tale  of  his  "high  wrongs,"  —  nor  is  Prospero  the  man  to  mistake 
entranced  wonder  for  lack  of  interest  and  attention.  His  error  is 
simply  due  to  nervous  excitement,  which,  as  in  meaner  mortals, 
makes  him  irritable,  impatient,  and  unreasonable.  Shakespeare  has 
given  us  varied  and  abundant  evidence  that  this  crisis  in  his  fortunes 
iA-asWemendous  strain  upon  his  powers,,  and  he  almost  breaks  down 
under  it.  It  does  overcome  his  ordinai'y  steadiness  of  nerifi-and 
tranquillity  o£sp]rit^.  It  is  this  that  makes  him  so  unjust  to  Mir''"d''i  - 
and,  in  the  latter  part  of  the  same  scene,  so  impatient  with  Ariel 
when  the  tricksy  spirit  ventures  to  rem.ind  him  of  the  promise  to  set 
him  free  ere  long.i  Prospero  himself  is  not  unconscious  of  the 
weakness  later,  when  he  says  to  Ferdinand  (and  Miranda):  — 

"  Sir,  I  am  vex'd  ; 
Bear  with  my  weakness  ;  my  old  brain  is  troubled. 
Be  not  disturb'd  with  my  infirmity. 
If  you  be  pleas'd,  retire  into  my  cell, 
And  there  repose;  a  turn  or  two  I  '11  walk, 
To  still  my  beating  mind." 

1  The  commentators,  with  one  exception,  so  far  as  I  am  aware,  have 
not  attempted  to  explain  this  ;  but  Professor  Moulton,  in  his  Shakespeare 
as  a  Dramatic  Artist  (3d  ed.,  p.  257),  after  recognizing  it  as  "  one  of  the 
most  difficult  incidents  of  the  play,"  says  that  it  "  takes  coherency  if  we 
see  in  it  Prospero  governing  this  incarnation  of  capiice  by  out-capricing 
him  [the  italics  are  not  mine] ;  there  is  an  absence  of  moral  seriousness 
throughout,  and  a  curious  irony,  by  which  Prospero,  under  the  guise  of 


Appendix  203 

When  Prospero,  usually  so  self-poised  and  self-possessed,  speaks 
thus,  we  get  some  notion  of  the  mental  strain,  the  terrible  suspense 
and  anxiety,  of  these  three  hours,  on  which  his  whole  future  lif" 
and  that  of  his  beloved  daughter  are  dependent. 

It  is  also  to  be  noted  that  Prospero,  mighty  magician  though  he  I 
be,  has  no  power  to  bring  two  young  hearts  to  beat  as  one.  He' 
cannot  make  Ferdinand  and  Miranda  love  each  other.  He  can 
bid  Ariel  bring  them  together  ;  but,  that  done,  he  can  only  watch 
with  paternal  fondness  and  hope  to  see  whether  all  goes  on  as  his 
soul  prompts  it.  But,  it  may  be  said,  the  notion  that  love  could  be 
excited  by  magic  arts  is  old  and  familiar  ;  and  we  find  it  more  than 
once  in  Shakespeare.  Why,  then,  did  not  Prospero  exercise  his 
art  upon  Ferdinand  and  Miranda,  and  thus  settle  in  advance  one 
at  least  of  the  uncertainties  of  that  anxious  day  ?  One  critic,  who 
is  rarely  astray  in  a  case  like  this,  believes  that  he  did  play  the 
magician  here.  "  In  the  planting  of  love,"  he  says,  "  Ariel  beats 
old  god  Cupid  all  to  nothing  ;  for  it  is  through  some  witchcraft  of 
his  that  Ferdinand  and  Miranda  are  surprised  into  a  mutual  rap- 
ture." The  misconception  is  a  gross  one,  —  gross  in  a  double 
sense.  Love  could  indeed  be  awakened  by  magic,  according  to 
the  ancient  theory  of  the  art ;  but  it  was  only  love  in  the  lower 
animal  sense  that  was  thus  excited.  The  purer,  nobler  passion 
was  beyond  the  control  of  wizard  or  necromancer  ;  and  Prospero 
it  is  quite  unnecessary  to  say,  could  never  descend  to  the  base 
devices  of  those  who,  having  gained  a  measure  of  superhuman 
power  by  a  compact  with  the  great  adversary  of  souls,  became  the 
ministers  of  his  dark  purposes.  Almost  any  other  dramatist  of  that 
day  might  have  been  willing  to  admit  this  as  a  prelude  to  a  more 
honorable  love  (we  find  things  not  unlike  it  in  the  plays  of  the 
time),  but  Shakespeare  never  so  degrades  his  mighty  magic.     In 

invective,  is  bringing  out  Ariel's  brave  endurance  and  delicate  refine- 
ment, and  in  the  form  of  threats  gives  his  rebellious  subject  more  tlian 
he  has  asked  for."  This  is  ingenious,  but,  to  my  thinking,  wrong  in 
every  particular. 


204  Appendix 

this,  as  in  other  respects,  Prospero  is  hke  his  creator,  though  not, 
as  some  have  supposed,  intended  to  be  the  portrait  of  that  creator. 


Miranda  and  Ferdinand 

Miranda  is  a  unique  and  exquisite  creation  of  the  poet's  magic. 
She  is  his  ideal  maiden,  brought  up  from  babyhood  in  an  ideal 
way  —  the  childj>f  nature,  with  no  other  training  than  she  received 
from  a  wise  and  loving  lather  —  an  ideal  father  we  may  say.  She 
reminds  me  of  Wordsworth's  lovely  picture  of  the  child  whom 
nature  has  adopted  as  her  own :  — 

"  Three  years  she  grew  in  sun  and  shower. 
Then  Nature  said,  '  A  lovelier  flower 

On  earth  was  never  sown  ; 
This  child  I  to  myself  will  take  ; 
She  shall  be  mine,  and  I  will  make 
A  lady  of  my  own. 

"'  Myself  will  to  my  darling  be 

Both  law  and  impulse  ;  and  with  me 

The  girl,  in  rock  and  plain, 
In  earth  and  heaven,  in  glade  and  bovver, 
Shall  feel  an  overseeing  power 

To  kindle  or  restrain. 


"  '  The  floating  clouds  their  state  shall  lend 
To  her ;  for  her  the  willow  bend  ; 

Nor  shall  she  fail  to  see 
Even  in  the  motions  of  the  storm 
Grace  that  shall  mould  the  maiden's  form 

By  silent  sympathy. 

"'  The  stars  of  midnight  shall  be  dear 
To  her;  and  she  shall  lean  her  ear 
In  many  a  secret  place 


Appendix  205 

Where  rivulets  dance  their  wayward  round, 
And  beauty  born  of  murmuring  sound 
Shall  pass  into  her  face '  "  — 

into  her  face,  and  into  her  soul  no  less,  the  spiritual   effect  of 
nature's  influences  being  as  markeil  as  the  physical. 

And  nature  on  this  enchanted  island  is  more  than  nature  an\- 
where  else  on  earth,  for  the  supernatural  —  that  which  is  beyond 
and  above  nature — is  added,  through  the  potent  and  benign  art 
of  Prospero.  He  has  been  her  teacher  too  —  a  loving  teacher  with 
ample  leisure  for  the  training  of  this  single  pupil,  the  sole  com- 
panion, comfort,  and  hope  of  his  exile  life.     lie  says:  — 

"  Here  in  this  island  we  arriv'd  ;  and  here 
Have  I,  tliy  schoolmaster,  made  thee  more  profit 
Than  other  princess  can,  that  have  more  time 
For  vainer  hours,  and  tutors  not  so  careful." 

An  excellent  education,  the  worldly-wise  may  say,  for  the  maiden 
on  the  lonely  isle,  if  she  is  to  live  there  all  her  days  with  her  wise 
and  watchful  father  for  sole  companion  and  guardian  ;  but  will  she 
not  make  a  fool  of  herself  if  she  is  suddenly  removed  from  this 
isolated  existence  to  the  ordinary  surroundings  of  her  sex?  How 
will  this  child  of  nature  behave  in  the  artificial  world  of  "  society?  " 
We  may  trust  Shakespeare  to  solve  this  problem  successfully,  but 
who  else  than  he  could  have  done  it  ?  Who  else  would  have  dared 
to  bring  this  innocent  and  ignorant  creature  — ignorant  at  least  of 
all  the  conventional  ways  of  social  life — face  to  face  with  a  lover, 
and  that  lover  a  prince,  the  flower  of  courtly  cultivation  and  gal- 
lantry, as  her  very  first  experience  of  the  new  world  to  which  she 
is  destined  to  be  transferred  ?  The  result  is  one  of  the  highest 
triumplis  of  his  art, —  because,  as  he  himself  has  said  in.  referring 
to  the  development  of  new  beauty  in  flowers  by  cultivation,  "  the 
art  itself  is  nature  "  (  lVinte>-'s  Tah,  iv.  4.  97).  This  modest  wild- 
flower,  under  his  fostering  care,  unfolds  into  a  blossom  of  rarer 
beauty,  fit  for  a  king's  garden,  without  losing  anything  of  its  native 


2o6  Appendix 

delicacy  or  sweetness.  As  Mrs.  Jameson  says,  "There  is  nothing 
of  the  kind  in  poetry  equal  to  the  scene  hetween  Ferdinand  an.l 
Miranda."  To  attempt  to  coiimient  upon  it  would  be  to  gild  re- 
fined gold  or  to  paint  the  lily  ;  an  1  I  shall  be  guilty  of  no  such 
"wasteful  and  ridiculous  excess." 

I  may,  however,  venture  to  call  attention  to  the  unconscious 
humour  of  Miranda's  reply  to  her  father,  when,  in  playing  the 
part  of  pretended  distrust  of  Ferdinand,  he  says :  — 

"  foolish  wench  I 
To  the  most  of  men  this  is  a  Caliban, 
And  they  to  him  are  angels." 

"  My  affections,"  she  replies,  — 

"  Are  then  most  humble ;  I  have  no  ambition 
To  see  a  goodlier  man."" 

Other  men  may  be  angels,  in  comparison  with  Ferdinand,  but  he 
is  good  enough  for  her ! 

And  again  must  "  inward  laughter  "  have  "  tickled  all  his  soul  " 
(to  borrow  Tennyson's  phrase)  when  Ferdinand  is  piling  the  logs, 
and  the  sympathetic  girl  comes  to  cheer  him,  little  suspecting  that 
Prospero  is  hidden  within  earshot.  Love  has  made  the  artless 
maiden  artful,  and  she  suggests  that  the  young  man  may  shirk  the 
unprincely  labour  for  the  nonce  :  — • 

"My  father 
Is  hard  at  study :  pray,  now,  rest  yourself ; 
He 's  safe  for  these  three  hours." 

Pretty  traitor  to  the  one  authority  that  has  been  the  law  of  her  life 
till  now ! 

Miranda's  frank  offer  to  carry  logs  while  Ferdinand  rests  is  a 
natural  touch  that  might  at  first  seem  unnatural,  but  how  thoroughly 
in  keeping  with  the  character  it  is  after  all !  This  child  of  nature, 
healthy,  strong,  active,  familiar  with  the  rough  demands  of  life  on 


Appendix  207 

this  uninhabited  island,  and  unfamiliar  with  the  chivalrous  deference 
to  woman  that  exempts  her  Trom  menial  labour  in  civilized  society, 
sees  nothing  "  mean  "  or  "  odious  "  or  "  heavy  "  in  piling  the  wood, 
as  Ferdinand  does  ;  and  when  he  resents  the  idea  of  her  undergoing 
such  "  dishonour  "  while  he  sits  lazy  by,  nothing  could  be  more 
natural  than  her  reply :  — 

"  It  would  become  me 
As  well  as  it  does  you ;  and  I  should  do  it 
With  much  more  ease,  for  my  good  will  is  to  it, 
And  yours  it  is  against." 

It  is  hard  for  him  every  way  —  as  severe  a  strain  upon  his  muscles 
as  upon  his  pride.     As  he  says  later :  — 

*'  I  am,  in  my  condition, 
A  prince,  Miranda;  I  do  think,  a  king  ;  — 
I  would,  not  so !  —  and  would  no  more  endure 
This  wooden  slavery  than  to  suffer 
The  flesh-fly  blow  my  mouth.     Hear  my  soul  speak : 
The  very  instant  that  I  saw  you,  did 
My  heart  fly  to  your  service  ;  there  resides, 
To  make  me  slave  to  it,  and  for  your  sake 
Am  I  this  patient  log-man." 

Ferdinand  has  been  well  characterized  by  Miss  O'Brien,  in  her 
paper  on  "  Shakespeare's  Young  Men,"  in  the  IVestminster  Review 
for  October,  1876.  In  her  classification  of  these  youths  she  puts 
Ferdinand  and  Florizel  (of  The  Wi7iter's  Tale)  together:  "They 
are  as  much  alike  in  nature  as  their  charming  companions,  Miranda 
and  Perdita.  Both  are  wonderfully  fresh  and  natural  foi  the  prod- 
ucts of  court  Iraining ;  both  fall  in  love  swiftly  and  completely  ; 
both  have  that  tender  grace,  that  purity  of  affection,  shown  in  many 
others,  but  never  more  perfectly  than  in  them.  Theirs  is  not  the 
wild  passion  of  Romeo  and  Juliet ;  there  is  nothing  high-wrought 
and  feverish  about  their  love-making ;  it  is  the  simple  outcome  of 
pure  and  healthy  feeling ;   and  it  is  difficult  to  say  which  gives  us 


2o8  Appendix 

the  prettier  picture  —  Ferdinand  holding  Miranda's  little  hands  on 
the  lonely  shore,  or  Florizel  receiving  Ferdita's  flowers  among  the 
bustle  of  the  harvesting.  Ferdinand  has  the  most  jire_and_energy^ 
thmigh  ho.  ^hnnl.l  nut  hnvp  been  the  first  to  desert  the  ship  in  the, 
manin  sti)rm.  He  has  the  best  character  altogether,  showing  much 
affection  for  his  father,  and  a  manly,  straightforward  way  of  going 
to  work  generally.  Florizel  is  grace  and  charm  personified,  and 
has  the  most  bewitching  tongue  ;  but  he  is  too  phant,  too  taken 
up  with  one  idea,  to  be  quite  so  satisfactory." 

As  to  Ferdinand's  behaviour  in  the  shipwreck,  it  was  due  to  the 
fact  that  it  was  a  "  inagic  storm 'land  he  was  not  his  own  master. 
It  was  a  part  of  Prospero's  plan  that  the  people  on  board  the  ship 
should  be  scattered  in  certain  groups  on  shore  and  that  Ferdinand 
should  be  separated  from  the  rest ;  and  Ariel  carries  out  his  master's 
directions.  When  Trospero  afterward  asks  him  whether  the  men 
are  all  safe,  he  replies :  — • 

"  Not  a  hair  perish'd ; 

On  their  sustaining  garments  not  a  blemish, 

But  fresher  than  before  ;  and,  as  tluni  bad'st  me. 

In  troops  I  have  dispers'd  them  'bout  the  isle. 

The  king's  son  have  I  landed  by  himself, 

Whom  I  left  cooling  of  the  air  with  sighs 

In  an  odd  angle  of  the  isle,  and  sitting, 

His  arms  in  this  sad  knot." 


Ariel  and  Caliban 

Ariel  —  delicate  and  airy  as  his  name  implies,  whom  Prospero, 
except  in  that  spasm  of  nervous  impatience,  addresses  only  with  the 
daintiest,  tenderest  epitliets,  as  one  might  speak  to  a  pet  bird  — 
is  near  of  kin  to  the  fairies  of  the  iM id  summer- Night's  Dream. 
He  is  not,  like  the  fairies  of  ordinary  literature,  a  human  being  in 
miniature,  with  superhuman  endowments.  He  has  no  moraLsexiS£>- 
though  he  has  come  to  have  a  certain  comprehension  of  such  a 


Appendix  209 

sense  in  the  mortals  with  whom  he  has  been  associated.  He  Hves, 
like  a  child,  in  the  present,  and  thinks  and  feels  like  a  child.  He  is 
almost  incapable  of  reftecttonT^ncTTias  little  or  nothing^ oT^vhat  we 
call  tact — or  he  would  not  have  pressed  his  plea  for  liberty  when 
he  saw  that  Prospero  was  in  no  mood  for  listening  to  it.  He  loves 
the  great  magician  as  a  young  child  —  or,  we  might  almost  say,  a 
pet  animal  —  would  love  one  who  had  treated  it  kindly;  but  we 
may  be  sure  that  he  soon  forgot  him,  or  remembered  him  only  in 
the  vaguest  way,  after  he  was  free  to  "  fly  after  summer  merrih," 
like  a  bird  or  butterfly. 

Caliban  is  a  more  complex  character,  and  in  some  respects  cne 
of  the  most  wonderful  of  the  poet's  creations.     Dr.  David  Wilson 
has  given  Shakespeare  credit  for  anticipating  Darwinian  theories 
by  furnishing  in  this  strange  being  the  "  missing  jink "  between 
man  and  the  brute  ;   and  such  he  may  be  reckoned^jglth  an  admix- 
ture of  the  demon.   .  At  the  same  time,  as  Schlegel  was,  1  think,  the 
first  to  point  out,  he  is  7\.  fot'tical  being  and   alwap  speaks  in  verse. 
More  recent  critics  have  quoted  or  repeated  what  Schlegel  said,  but 
without  making  it  quite  clear  wherein  Caliban  is  poetical.     It  is  ^ 
not  merely,  as  one  has  said,  that  he  is  "  a  savage  with  the  simplicity 
of  the  child,"  nor,  as  another  seems  to  suppose,  because  his  inherent 
and  inherited  coarseness  of  nature  is  different  from  the  "  vulgarity  " 
of  Stephano  and  Trinculo,  and,  in  a  sense,  above  it.     They  are 
degraded   bemgs  ol    ttieir  kind.      Y^"  hpl.-.n(ys  tn  a  Irvwpr    grnts^r 
kind,  hut  he  is  an  ideal  specimen  of  that  kind^^  Caliban  is  half-  ■ 
demon  or  part-demon  by  his  parentage  ;    and  the  evil  that  is  in 
him  overmasters  and  neutralizes  the  germs  of  a  better  nature  which 
Prospero  has  endeavoured  to  cultivate  and  develop.      Bui,JiuMigh-=*' 
he  seemsincapable  of  rising  above  his  low  estate,  he  nevertheless  ^ 
fe€!s"certain  blind  aspirations  after  that  whichjs_bigher,  and  aspira- ^ 

tioH  is  f>Of(irnl.  ____ 

It  is  to  be  noted  that  Shakespeare  makes  him  sensible  to  the  / 
power  of  music.  Elsewhere,  as  we  know,  the  want  of  this  seniibil-  y 
ity  has  been  associated  with  a  depraved  type  of  humanity. 

THE  TEMPEST —  1 4 


2IO  Appendix 

"  The  man  that  hath  no  music  in  himself, 
Nor  is  not  mov'd  with  concord  of  sweet  sounds. 
Is  fit  for  treasons,  stratagems,  and  spoils; 
The  motions  of  his  spirit  are  dull  as  night, 
And  his  affections  dark  as  Erebus. 
Let  no  such  man  be  trusted." 

But  Caliban,  with  all  his  vileness,  is  superior  to  this  man  that  is 
not  moved  by  music.  His  reply  to  Trinculo  and  Stephano,  when 
they  are  frightened  by  the  mysterious  music  in  the  air,  is  one  of  the 
most  poetical  passages  in  the  drama,  and  aho  one  of  the  most 
pathetic :  — 

"  Be  not  afeard  ;  the  isle  is  full  of  noises, 
Sounds  and  sweet  airs  that  give  delight  and  hurt  not. 
Sometimes  a  thousand  twangling  instruments 
Will  hum  about  mine  ears;  and  sometimes  voices, 
That,  if  I  then  had  wak'd  after  long  sleep. 
Will  make  me  sleep  again ;  and  then,  in  dreaming. 
The  clouds,  methought,  would  open  and  show  riches 
Ready  to  drop  upon  me,  that  when  I  wak'd 
I  cried  to  dream  again." 

It  is  only  in  his  dreams,  inspired  by  the  sweet  music  of  better 
spirits,  that  Caliban  can  lift  hlmselt  Irom  the  degradation  to  which 
his  heritage  oi  Dase  tendencies  has  doomed  him.  Trinculo  and 
Stephano  are  men,  and  might  be  better  if  they  would  ;  but  they 
are  not  troubled  by  thoughts  or  dreams  of  anything  better.  They 
are  content  to  be  the  wretched  creatures  they  are  ;  and  as  for 
music,  they  have  only  the  coarsest  taste  for  it.  "  I  would  I  could 
see  this  taborer,"  says  Stephano,  "  he  lays  it  on  !  "  That  is  all  the 
"  sweet  airs  "  are  ,to  him.  It  is  the  drum  that  takes  his  ear,  and 
r\        the  more  because  the  drummer  "  lays  it  on  !  " 

Caliban  is,  moreover,  intellectually  superior  to  the  drunken  sail- 
ors. He  can  form  a  plan  and  keep  it  steadily  in  view,  whije_they 
are  continually  losing~sight  of  it  m  their  maudlin  stupidity.-  He 
9aes  not  get  so  tipsy  as  to  forget  what  he  is  driving  at.     He  has 


^ 


•I 


Appendix  211 

recognized  the  clowns  as  superior  beings,  as  gods  indeed  ;  but 
when  they  are  wasting  time  in  quarrelling  over  the  "glistering 
apparel "  which  Ariel  has  hung  up  to  entrap  them,  he  exclaims :  — 

"  The  dropsy  drown  this  fool !    What  do  you  mean, 
To  dote  thus  on  such  luggage  ?  " 

In  the  end  he  is  wise  enough  to  see  and  to  acknowledge  what  "s 

— ; . . — 2 —  &  — ^(1/ 

thrice-double  ass"  he  had  been  —  which  your  perfect  fool  never    ^ 
does. 

In   the  various   allegories  which  ingenious  critics,  English  and 
other,  fancy  that  they  discover  in  The  Tempest,  Caliban  of  course 
plays   a    prominent    part.      According    to    Lowell,    he    represents 
"  Understanding  apart  from  Imagination  ;  "  Kreyssig  takes  him  to 
be  the  People  ;    the  French  critic  Mezieres  thinks  he  is  the  Primi-    ^"^ 
tive  Man  abandoned  to  himself;   another  says  he  is  "one  of  the"""'^ 
powers  of  nature  over  which  the  scientific  intellect  obtains  com-      ' 
mand,"  while  Prospero  is  the  founder  of  the  inductive  philosophy ; 
another  believes  that  he  symbolizes  the  colony  of  Virginia  ;  another, 
"the  untutored  early  drama  of  Marlowe"  ;   and  this  by  no  means 
exhausts  the  list.^     My  theory  is  that   he  is  CaHban,  the  son  of 
Sycorax  and  the  slave  of  Prospero,  with  no  allegorical  significance 
whatever. 

Mr.  A.  W.  Ward  {^English  Dramatic  Literature,  1899)  says, 
"  It  seems  difficult  to  escape  from  the  conclusion  that  Shake- 
speare intended  his  monster  as  a  satire  incarnate  on  Montaigne's 
'  noble  savage.'  "  Caliban  has,  in  these  latter  days,  inspired  a  poem 
by  Browning  (^Caliban  upon  Setebos,  1864),  a  "  j-hilosophical 
drama"  by  Renan  {^Caliban,  1878),  and  a  dramatic  sketch  {Ariel 
and  Caliban,  1887)  by  our  American  poet,  Christopher  P.  Cranch. 

1  "  His  mother,  Sycorax  (such  are  the  varieties  of  critical  points  of 
view),  has  been  supposed  to  allegorize  Queen  Elizabeth"  (Ward). 
Surely  the  "  pranks  of  Puck  among  the  critics,"  as  Dowden  aptly  calls 
them,  could  not  farther  go  1 


2 1 2  Appendix 

Renan's  drama  is  a  continuation  of  The  Tempest.  He  asks  the 
reader  to  regard  it  merely  "  as  tiie^museraenL-uI-aiiJdjeolegistT^not 
as  a  theory  ;  a  fantasy  of  the  imagination,  not  a  political  thesis  ;  " 
but  Furness,  who  gives  a  good  abstract  of  it,  remarks :  "  Its  politi- 
cal bearing,  however,  is  manifest  throughout,  and,  although  much 
of  it  is  local  and  temporary,  its  fundamental  idea  will  be  true  until 
the  millennium."  The  plot,  in  brief,  is  this:  Prospero  goes  back 
to  Milan  with  Ariel,  Caliban,  and  the  shipwrecked  company,  and  is 
reinstated  as  duke  ;  but,  absorbed  in  his  studies,  he  neglects  his 
official  duties  as  of  old.  Caliban,  who  hates  him  as  thoroughly 
as  ever,  becomes  imbued  with  socialistic  ideas,  plays  the  dema- 
gogue, and  gets  up  a  revolution.  "  Vive  Caliban  !  Caliban  chef  du 
peuple !  "  is  the  cry  ;  Prospero  is  ueposed,  and  Caliban  reigns  in 
his  stead.  But,  having  now  gained  his  end,  he  repudiates  social- 
ism, becomes  a  patron  of  literature  and  art,  and  when  the  Inquisi- 
tion would  take  action  against  Prospero  as  a  free-thinker  and 
sorcerer,  refuses  to  surrender  him.  "  I  am  heir  to  his  rights," 
Caliban  says  ;  "  I  shall  defend  them.  Prospero  is  my  protege  ;  he 
shall  work  at  his  ease,  with  his  philosophers  and  his  artists  ;  his 
works  shall  be  the  glory  of  my  reign."  In  the  closing  scene  Pros- 
pero gives  Ariel  his  liberty,  which  the  tricksy  spirit  says  will  be  his 
death  :  "the  air  has  already  reclaimed  in  me  that  which  belongs  to  it. 
.  .  .  Every  idealist  will  be  my  lover,  every  pure  soul  my  sister ;  I 
shall  be  the  virgin  snow  on  the  bosom  of  young  girls,  the  glow  in 
the  tresses  of  their  hair  ;  I  shall  blossom  with  the  rose,  I  shall 
grow  green  with  the  myrtle,  and  exhale  perfume  with  the  carna- 
tion. .  .  .  Adieu,  my  master,  remember  thy  Ariel !  "  \_Ariel  van- 
ishes,  and  a  pure,  exquisite  harmony  breathes  around.  Prospero 
falls  senseless.      1  he  end.'\  ^ 

1  I  take  this  from  Furness's  abstract.  It  is  to  be  regretted  that  no 
good  translation  of  the  drama  has  appeared  in  English.  The  one  pxih- 
lished  some  years  ago  ia  New  York  is  grossly  inaccurate,  sometimes 
ridiculously  so. 


Appendix  213 


The  Minor  Characters 

Of  the  minor  characters  the  most  interesting  is  Hniiyalnj  whn  is  one 
of  Shakespeare's  most  admirable  old  mes.  lie  reminds  me  in  many 
respects  of  Camillo  in  7^Ae  IVinier's  Tale,  but  he  is  tiner  in  his  way 
than  the  devoted  minister  of  Leontes.  He  is  the  very  antipodes, 
so  to  speak,  of  Polonius.  another  famous  product  of  court  life  and 
training.  He  is  the  complete  embodiment  of  unselfishness  and  the 
very  sonl  of  honour.  His  first  thought  is  always  fbT others,  never 
for  himself.  He  does  his  best  to  comfort  the  king,  who  repels  his 
sympathy,  as  some  men  instinctively  do  under  great  affliction  ;  and 
when  Sebastian  and  Antonio,  who  are  no  less  unfeeling  than  they 
are  unprincipled,  brutally  charge  Alonso  with  being  responsible  for 
the  disaster  they  have  suftered,  Gonzalo,  who  knows  that  it  would 
be  useless  to  appeal  to  their  sensibilities,  draws  them  off  frnip  their 
attack  on  the  king  by  allowing  himself  to  be^Tbutt  for  their  ridicule 
and  abuse.  They  cannot  provoke  him  to  anything  more  than  good- 
natured  retorts,  and  in  wit  he  is  as  much  their  superior  as  in  nohil^_ 
ity  of  nature.  They  sneer  at  him,  after  the  magic  sleep  has  fallen 
upon  all  but  themselves,  as  "  this  ancient  morsel,  this  Sir  Prudence  ; " 
but  in  the  same  breath  they  give  him  the  high  praise  of  being  the 
one  follower  of  the  king  who  is  absolutely  incorruptible,  and  who 
cannot  be  induced  to  share  in  the  spoils  of  their  conspirasy :  — 

"  For  all  the  rest, 
They  'II  take  suggestion  as  a  cat  laps  milk ; 
They'll  tell  the  clock  to  any  business  that 
We  say  befits  the  hour." 

Itja_Qonzalo  who,  warned  by  Ariel,  thwarts  the  plot  of  the  villains. 
and  v.atclies  carefully  thnt  thpy  shall  have  no  opportunity  to  repeat 
the  murderous  nrti,;mpt-  and  when,  on  the  exposure  of  their  guilt 
by  Ariel  in  the  disguise  of  a  harpy,  they  rush  from  the  scene  like 
madmen,  it  is  Gonzalo  who  sees  their  desperation  and  would  save 
them  from  themselves  :  — 


214  Appendix 

*'  All  three  of  them  are  desperate ;  their  great  guilt, 
Like  poison  given  to  work  a  great  time  after, 
Now  gins  to  bite  the  spirits.  —  I  do  beseech  you 
That  are  of  suppler  joints,  follow  them  swiftly, 
And  hinder  them  from  what  this  ecstasy 
May  now  provoke  them  to." 

In  the  end  no  one  is  happier  than  this  good  old  man,  ready  to  weep 
with  joy  at  the  happiness  of  others :  — 

"  I  have  inly  wept. 
Or  should  have  spoke  ere  this.  —  Look  down,  you  gods, 
And  on  this  couple  drop  a  blessed  crown  1 
For  it  is  you  that  have  chalk'd  forth  the  way 
Which  brought  us  hither." 

It  is  Gonzalo  whom  Prospero  first  addresses  when  he  makes  himself 
inown  to  the  bewildered  company :  -r- 

"  Holy  Gonzalo,  honourable  man. 
Mine  eyes  even  sociable  to  the  show  of  thine, 
Fall  fellowly  drops.  .  .  .  O  good  Gonzalo, 
My  true  preserver,  and  a  loyal  sir 
To  him  thou  foUow'st !     I  will  pay  thy  graces 
Home  both  in  word  and  deed." 

And,  when  they  have  further  recovered  from  their  amazement,  again 
Prospero  turns  to  him :  — 

"  First,  noble  friend. 
Let  me  embrace  thine  age,  whose  honour  cannot 
Be  measur'd  or  confin'd." 

Nevertheless,  the  poet,  who  is  never  afraid  to  let  us  see  the  foibles 
and  weaknesses  of  his  favourite  characters^  does  not  disguise  the 
little  infirmities,  due  to  age,  in  the  good_Gonzalo.  In  the  open- 
ing scene,  when  the  Boatswain  is  trying  to  get  the  obtrusive  pas- 
sengers out  of  tho  way,  Gonzalo  says :  — 

"  I  have  great  comfort  from  this  fellow.  Methinks  he  hath  no  drown- 
ing mark  upon  him;  his  complexion  is  perfect  gallows.    Stand  fast, 


Appendix  215 

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." 

Like  an  old  man^  he  is  proud  of  hisjjttle  jokfi^^and-tepeatsiLtwice 
le  same  scene  :  — 


"Antonio.  Hang,  cur!  hang,  you  whoreson,  insolent  noise-maker! 
We  are  less  afraid  to  be  drowned  than  thou  art. 

Gonzalo.  I  "11  warrant  him  for  drowning  though  the  ship  were  no 
stronger  than  a  nutshell. 

Antonio.   We  are  merely  cheated  of  our  lives  by  drunkards. — 
This  wide-chapp'd  rascal,  —  would  thou  mightst  lie  drowning 
The  washing  of  ten  tides ! 

Gonzalo.  He  '11  be  hang'd  yet, 

Though  every  drop  of  water  swear  against  it 
And  gape  at  wid'st  to  glut  him." 

And  when  the  Boatswain  appears  again  in  the  last  scene  of  the 
play,  Gonzalo  exclaims :  — 

"  O,  look,  sir!  look,  sir!  here  is  more  of  ust 
I  prophesied,  if  a  gallows  were  on  land, 
This  fellow  could  not  drown." 


The  Moral  Lessons  of  the  Play 

No  play  of  Shakespeare's  breathes  a  deeper  religious  spirit  than 
The  Tempest.  I  have  already  quoted  Gonzalo's  recognition  of  an 
overruling  Providence  in  the  events  that  have  occurred  :  — 

"  Look  down,  you  gods  .  .  . 
For  it  'vs,you  that  have  chalk'd  forth  the  way 
Which  brought  us  hither." 

The  lan.^uage  is  that  of  a  dead  mythology,  but  the  spiri:  is  that  of 
living  Christianity. 


2 1 6  Appendix 

In  the  second  scene,  when  Prospero  begins  the  story  of  his 
wrongs  and  his  exile,  Miranda  exclaims  :  — 

"  O  the  heavens ! 
What  foul  play  had  we  that  we  came  from  thence? 
Or  blessed  was  't  we  did  ?  " 
And  her  father  replies,  with  evident  earnestness  :  — 
"  Both,  both,  my  girl ! 
By  foul  play,  as  thou  say'st,  weie  we  heav'd  thence. 
But  blessedly  help  hither." 
Farther  on,  when  she  asks,  "  How  came  we  ashore  ?  "  his  answer  is, 
«'  E^Jr^vi^'^nrf  di^'i'i^" 

In  the  scene  where  the  mysterious  feast  is  spread  for  the  king 
and  his  company,  and  Ariel  appears  like  a  harpy,  clapping  his 
wings,  whereat  "with  a  quaint  device  the  banquet  vanishes,"  the 
sinners  get  a  sermon  instead  of  the  dinner  they  expected  (iii.  3. 
52-82  :  «' You  are  three  men  of  sin,"  etc.).  Ariel  delivers  it,  but, 
that  we  may  not  suppose  it  is  his  own  —  which  it  could  not  be  — 
Prospero  afterwards  commends  the  airy  spirit  for  having  remem- 
bered and  recited  it  so  well  :  — 

"  Of  my  instruction  hast  thou  nothing  bated 
In  what  thou  hadst  to  say." 
Never  was  sermon  briefer  —  two  minutes  at  most  —  never  one  so 
crammed  with  sound  doctrine,  never  one  more  practical  and  im- 
pressive. There  is  no  more  powerful  writing  in  all  Shakespeare, 
unless  possibly  in  the  129th  Sonnet,  which  is  another  sermon  in 
fourteen  lines.  The  villains  are  charged  with  their  sin,  and  are 
reminded  that,  on  account  of  it,  they  find  themselves  where  they 
are.  Destiny,  the  Divine  Power  or  Nemesis,  that  has  all  created 
things  for  its  instrumentalities,  has  made  the  sea  cast  them  on  this 
desolate  island,  unfit  as  they  are  to  dwell  among  men.  They  are 
told  that  the  madness  which  possesses  them  is  the  madness  of  des- 
peration—  such  madness  as  drives  the  guilty  to  suicide.  When 
they  draw  their  swords,  as  if  to  attack  this  bold  accuser,  it  is  onlv 


Appendix  217 

to  hear  the  bolder  and  scornful  response,  "  You  fools  !  I  and  my 
fellows  are  ministers  of  Fate,  invulnerable  to  all  your  insane  wrath  ; 
besides,  your  arms  are  paralyzed  and  cannot  wield  your  swords,  if 
these  had  power  to  hurt."  Agam  their  sin  is  set  before  them  — 
this  time  in  no  general  terms,  but  specifically.  They  exposed  Pros- 
pero  and  his  child  to  the  perils  of  the  sea,  and  the  sea  has  been 
made  the  agent  of  their  punishment.  The  heavenly  powers,  "  de- 
laying, not  forgetting,"  —  what  terrible  meaning  condensed  into 
three  words  !  —  have  roused  the  seas  and  shores,  yea,  all  created 
things,  against  them.  The  king  has  already  felt  the  fearful  retribu- 
tion in  the  loss  of  his  son,  and  lingering  perdition  is  to  follow  him 
and  his  companions  in  crime.  There  is  but  one  way  of  escape 
from  the  awful  doom  of  which  they  have  had  a  foretaste,  —  "heart's 
sorrow,"  —  but  that  is  not  enough  without  the  "clear  life  ensuing." 
The  after  life  must  prove,  by  bringing  forth  fruits  meet  for  repent- 
ance, that  the  sorrow  has  indeed  been  "  heart's  sorrow." 

It  is  instructive  to  note  how  this  strange  and  terrible  arraign- 
ment of  the  criminals  affects  them  at  the  time.  For  the  moment 
they  are  paralyzed  with  amazement,  as  Shakespeare  indicates,  after 
his  fashion,  by  the  comments  of  another  character.  Gonzalo,  him- 
self amazed  to  see  them  standing  as  if  thunderstruck,  exclaims, 
"  r  the  name  of  something  holy,  sir,  why  stand  you  in  this  strange 
stare  ?  "  and  Alonso  replies  :  — 

"  O,  it  is  monstrous,  monstrous! 
Methought  the  billows  spoke,  and  told  me  of  it; 
The  winds  did  sing  it  to  me,  and  the  thunder, 
That  deep  and  dreadful  organ-pipe,  pronouncV' 
The  name  of  Prosper ;  it  did  bass  my  trespass. 
Therefore  my  son  i'  the  ooze  is  bedded ;  and 
I  '11  seek  him  deeper  than  e'er  plummet  sounded 
And  with  him  there  lie  mudded." 

Antonio  and  Sebastian,  on  the  other  hand,  are  only  hardened  and 
rendered  defiant  by  the  accusation  and  admonition  they  have  heard. 
Sebastian  cries  :  — 


2i8  Appendix 

"  But  one  fiend  at  a  time, 
I  '11  fight  their  legions  o'er ;  " 

and  Antonio  adds,  "  I  '11  be  thy  second." 

Shakespeare  has  prepared  the  way  for  this  in  the  scene  where 
the  villains  are  plotting  against  their  accomplice  Alonso  :  — 

"Sebastian.  I  remember 

You  did  supplant  your  brother  Prospero. 

Antonio.  True  •. 

And  look  how  well  my  garments  sit  upon  me, 
Much  feater  than  before.     My  brother's  servants 
Were  then  my  fellows,  now  they  are  my  men. 

Sebastian.     But,  for  your  conscience  — 

Antonio.    Ay,  sir;  where  lies  that ?     If  "t  were  a  kibe, 
'T  would  put  me  to  my  slipper;  but  I  feel  not 
This  deity  in  my  bosom.     Twenty  consciences. 
That  stand  'twixt  me  and  Milan,  candied  be  they 
And  melt,  ere  they  molest !  " 

"  Verily,  the  wicked  boasteth  of  his  heart's  desire  ;  he  hath  said  in 
his  heart,  I  shall  not  be  moved ;  but  how  is  he  brought  into  deso- 
lation as  in  a  moment  ! "  Antonio  exults  in  the  success  of  his 
murderous  plot  against  his  brother ;  the  time  when  there  was  risk 
of  its  detection  seems  long  past.  How  comfortably  he  M'ears  the 
stolen  ducal  robes  !  How  humbly  do  his  former  companions  in 
service  look  up  to  him  as  lord  and  master  !  And  his  conscience, 
about  which  his  confederate  in  crime  inquires  with  a  sneer  —  what 
is  this  conscience  ?  Were  it  some  trifling  bodily  ailment,  he  might 
think  it  worth  regarding — like  a  chilblain,  which  leads  a  man  to 
exchange  his  boot  for  a  slipper  —  but  he  feels  not  this  so-called 
deity  in  the  bosom.  Twenty  consciences  should  not  stand  between 
him  and  the  goal  of  his  ambition  !  And  at  this  very  moment  he  is 
at  the  mercy  of  the  man  whom  he  has  robbed  and  would  have 
murdered ;  and  the  conscience  he  laughs  at  will  the  next  hour 
sting  him  like  a  serpent  !     The  heavenly  powers,  as  he  is  to  learn, 


Appendix  219 

may  delay,  but  they  do  not  forget.     The  retribution  which  he  flat- 
ters himself  that  he  has  escaped  is  even  now  at  his  heels. 

While  referring  to  the  moral  lessons  of  the  play,  I  cannot  refrain 
from  alluding  to  one  which  at  the  same  time  illustrates  what  I  have 
said  of  Ariel,  As  I  remarked,  he  is  not  a  human  being ;  he  has  no 
moral  sense,  no  soul,  no  conscience.  His  impulses  are  naturally 
good,  like  those  of  a  child  before  it  has  learned  that  it  ought  to  be 
good.  I  said,  without  illustrating  it,  that  he  had  come  to  have  a 
certain  understanding  of  human  feelings  and  responsibilities  by  his 
associatioiL^ith  Prospero  and  his  daughter.  Let  me  give  the  illus- 
tration now  ;  and,  to  my  thinking,  it  is  one  of  the  most  beautiful 
touches  in  the  play.  At  the  beginning  of  the  last  act,  when  Pros- 
pero asks,  "  How  fares  the  king  and  's  followers  ?  "  the  sequel  of 
the  dialogue  needs  no  comment  to  explain  and  enforce  it :  — 

"  Ariel.  Confin'd  together 

In  the  same  fashion  as  you  gave  in  charge. 
Just  as  you  left  them  ;  all  prisoners,  sir, 
In  the  line-grove  which  weather-fends  your  cell. 
They  cannot  budge  till  your  release.     The  king. 
His  brother,  and  yours,  abide  all  three  distracted, 
And  the  remainder  mourning  over  them, 
Brimful  of  sorrow  and  dismay ;  but  chiefly 
Him  that  you  term'd,  sir,  the  good  old  lord,  Gonzalo. 
His  tears  run  down  his  beard,  like  winter's  drops 
From  eaves  of  reeds.    Your  charm  so  strongly  works  'em 
That  if  you  now  beheld  them  your  affections 
Would  become  tender. 

Prospero.  Dost  thou  think  so,  spirit  ? 

Ariel.     Mine  would,  sir,  were  I  human. 

Prospero.  And  mine  shalL 

Hast  thou,  which  art  but  air,  a  touch,  a  feeling 
Of  their  afflictions,  and  shall  not  myself, 
One  of  their  kind,  that  relish  all  as  sharply 
Passion  as  they,  be  kindlier  mov'd  than  thou  art  ? 
Though  with  their  high  wrongs  I  am  struck  to  the  quick. 


220  Appendix 

Yet  with  my  nobler  reason  'gainst  my  fury 

Do  I  take  part.     The  rarer  action  is 

In  virtue  than  in  vengeance;  they  being  penitent 

The  sole  drift  of  my  purpose  doth  extend 

Not  a  frown  further.     Go  release  them,  Ariel; 

My  charms  I  '11  break,  their  senses  I  '11  restore, 

And  they  shall  be  themselves." 

Prospero,  as  I  have  said,  is  not  Shakespeare's  portrait  of  himself, 
though  he  is  more  like  Shakespeare  —  the  Shakespeare  of  his  later 
years  —  than  any  other  of  his  characters;  and  no  passage  in  the 
play  is  a  better  illustration  of  this  than  the  one  just  quoted.  Out 
of  the  depths  into  which  he  had  been  plunged  when  he  wrote 
Macbeth  and  Othello  and  Hamlet  and  Lear  the  poet  has  risen  to 
the  heights  where  Cymbeline  and  The  Winter's  Tale  and  The 
Tempest  are  the  inspired  expression  of  jhe  w[sdom  he  has  learned 
from  that  bitter  experiences^ the  highest  wisd^m^TOiristjanity, 
the  divine  charity  which  is  the  crown  of  alUhe  virtues  and  graces? 

ThTs  "charity,  be  it  observed,  is  nowise  due  to  anyliurii^g~of 
moral  sensibility  through  famiharity  with  the  evil  that  is  in  the 
world ;  it  is  no  weak  pity  for  the  frailty  of  our  poor  human  nature, 
so  easily  led  astray  by  temptation.  With  the  wrongs  he  has  suf- 
fered he  is  "  struck  to  the  quick,"  as  he  says  in  a  speech  just 
quoted  ;  and  to  Antonio  he  says  :  — 

"  For  you,  most  wicked  sir,  whom  to  call  brother 
Would  even  infect  my  mouth,  I  do  forgive 
Thy  rankest  fault, —  all  of  them." 

While  telling  Miranda  the  story  of  her  uncle's  treachery,  he  had 
said,  "  Then  tell  me  if  this  might  be  a  brother  !  "  He  cannot 
ignore  or  extenuate  the  unnatural  crime,  but  he  can  forgive  it. 

Well  may  the  noble  magician  feel  now  that  the  work  of  his  Hfe 
is  accomplished  ;  that  he  may  break  his  staff  and  drown  his  book, 
lest  they  fall  into  the  hands  of  those  who  may  not  use  them  aright ; 
and  that  he  may  then,  as  he  says, 


Appendix  ?2i 

"  retire  me  to  my  Milan,  where 
Every  third  thought  shall  be  my  grave." 

These  words,  almost  the  last  he  utters  in  the  play,  breathe  the  same 
religious  spirit  that  has  inspired  his  life  — the  life  of  which  we  have 
seen  but  four  short  hours,  beginning  with  storm  and  shipwreck, 
and  ending  with  sunshine  and  peace,  with  reunion  of  kindred 
severed  by  unnatural  crime,  forgiveness  of  injuries,  righting  of  all 
wrongs,  and  marriage  bells  about  to  ring  for  happy  lovers.  Did 
ever  so  blessed  an  evening  follow  a  tempest  that  raged  at  midday? 


The  Time-Analysis  of  the  Play 

The  "  unities  of  time  and  place  "  are  strictly  observed  in  this  play. 
I'he  period  of  time  represented  is  little  more  than  is  required  for 
the  performance  on  the  stage,  being  about  four  hours.  In  i.  2.  240 
(very  soon  after  the  shipwreck)  Ariel  says  that  the  time  of  day  is 
"  two  glasses  "  past  noon,  or  2  p.m.  At  the  beginning  of  the  last 
rscene,  in  reply  to  Trospero's  question,  "How's  the  day?"  Ariel 
replies,  "  On  the  sijcth  hour."  In  the  same  scene  Alonso  speaks  of 
having  been  wrecked  "  three  hours  since,"  and  says  that  his  son's 
"  eld'st  acquaintance  "  with  Miranda  "  cannot  be  three  hours."  The 
Boatswain  also  refers  to  the  wreck  as  having  occurred  "  but  three 
glasses  since."  ^ 

List  of  Characters  in  the  Play 

The  numbers  in  parentheses  indicate  the  lines  the  characters  have 
in  each  scene. 

Jionso:  i.  1(2);  ii.  1(26);  iii.  3(26);  v.  1(56).     Whole  no.  no. 

Seias/ian:  i.  1(4);  ii-  1(98);  i"-  3(i2);  v.  1(8).  Whole  no. 
122. 

Prospero:  i.  2(339);  iii.  l(lo),  3(15);  i^.  1(98);  v.  1(183); 
epilogue  (20).     Whole  no.  665. 

Antonio:  i.  1(8);  1.2(126);  iii.  3(12);  v.  1(2).     Whole  no.  148. 


222  Appendix 

Ferdinand:  i.  2(45);  iii.  1(59);  iv.  1(23);  v.  1(13).  Whole 
no.  140. 

Gonzalo :  i.  1(22);  ii.  1(90);  iii.  3(28);  v.  1(25).  Whole 
no.  165. 

Adrian:  ii.  i(li);   iii.  3(i).     Whole  no.  12. 

Francisco  :  ii.  1(10);   iii.  3(1).     Whole  no.  II. 

Caliban:  i.  2(30);  ii.  2(55);  iii.  2(66);  iv.  1(20);  v.  I (8). 
Whole  no.  179. 

Trinculo  :  ii.  2(58);  iii.  2(33);  iv.  l(i6);  v.  1(5).  Whole 
no.  112. 

Stephana:  ii.  2(80);  iii.  2(63);  iv.  1(26);  v.  1(5).  Whole  no. 
174. 

Master:  i.  1(4).     Whole  no.  4. 

Boatswain  :  i.  1(29);  v.  1(17).     Whole  no.  46. 

Miranda:  i.  2(87);  iii.  1(45);  iv.  1(3);  v.  1(7).  Whole 
no.  142. 

Ariel:  i.  2(87);  ii.  1(11);  iii.  2(4),  3(30);  iv.  1(29);  v.  1(29). 
Whole  no.  190. 

Iris  :  iv.  1(41).     Whole  no.  41. 

Ceres  :  iv.  1(24).     Whole  no.  24. 

Juno:  iv.  1(7).     Whole  no.  7. 

"Air:  i.  1(5),  2(3).     Whole  no.  8. 

In  the  above  enumeration,  parts  of  lines  are  counted  as  whole 
(lines,  making  the  total  in  the  play  greater  than  it  is.  The  actual 
number  in  each  scene  is  as  follows:  i.  1(72),  2(500);  ii.  1(327), 
2(11,3);  iii-  1(96),  2(163),  3(109);  iv.  1(267);  V.  1(318);  epi- 
logue (20).  Whole  no.  in  the  play,  2065.  The  Tempest  is  the 
shortest  of  the  plays,  with  the  single  exception  of  The  Comedy  of 
Errors,  which  has  1778  lines.  The  next  shortest  is  Macbeth,  with 
2109  Hnes.  The  longest  is  Hamlet,  with  3930  lines;  and  the  next 
longest  is  Richard  r/I.,  with  3618  lines.  Troilus  and  Cressida  has 
3496,  2  Henry  IV.  3446,  and  Coriolanus  3410  lines.  The  number- 
ing is  that  of  the  "Globe"  edition,  which  differs  slightly  in  the 
prose  scenes  from  that  of  the  present  edition. 


INDEX   OF   WORDS   AND    PHRASES 
EXPLAINED 


absolute  Milan,  135 
abuse  (=  deceive),  189 
accidents,  193 
ache  (pronunciation),  146 
admire  (=  wonder),  191 
advance    (=  raise),    149, 

183 
adventure      (=  venture), 

156 
afeard,  164 
affections,  186 
afore,  163 
after,  161 
again(=  again  and  again), 

148 
against  (transposed),  166 
airy  charm,  188 
amain,  179 
Amen,  163 
Argier,  143 
as  (=  as  iO,  154 
as    (omitted),    135,    156, 

194 
as  (redundant),  133 
aspersion,  175 
attach  (=  attack),  171 
attend  (=  attend  to),  150 
avoid  (=  begone),  182 
azured,  188 

badge,  193 
barnacle,  184 
bass  (verb),  174 
bate,  142,  154 
bat-fowling,  156 
be  (=are),  159,  193 
beak  (=  prow),  139 
bear  up,  168 
bed-right,  180 
bemocked-at,  173 
IBermoolhes,  141 
berries  (=  coffee  ?),  145 
best  (thou'rt),  146 


betid,  132 

beyond  man's  life,  158 

blasphemy  (concrete),  192 

blue-eyed,  143 

boatswain,  126 

boiled  brains,  188 

bombard,  161 

bosky,  179 

brave  (=  fine), 149 

bring  her  to  try  with  main 

course,  125,  128 
broke  (=  broken),  180 
broom  groves,  178 
busiless,  165 
but  even  now,  193 
but  (=  except),  134,  149 
but    (=  otherwise    than), 

by  and  by,  170 

Caliban,  144 

can  (absolute),  175 

candied,  159 

cankei  (=worm),  149 

capering  to  eye  her,  193 

carriage  (=load),  186 

cat  (personal),  163 

catch  (=  song),  170 

cat  o'  mountain,  186 

certes,  171 

chalked  forth,  192 

changed  eyes,  150 

charity  (=  kindness),  137 

charmingly,  iSo 

cheerly,  127 

chorubin,  137 

chirurgeonly,  155 

chough,  159 

clear  (=  pure),  173 

clip,  179 

closeness,  134 

cockerel,  152 

coil,  140 

223 


come  by,  160 

companion  (contemptu- 
ous), 168 

complexion  (=Iook),  128 

conduct  (=  guide),  193 

confederates  (verb),  135 

confines,  180 

constant,  163 

content  (noun),  159 

content  (=  please),  191 

control  (=  confute),  150 

cooling  of  the  air,  140 

coragio,  193 

corners  of  the  earth,  151 

corollary,  176 

correspondent  to  com- 
mand,  144 

courses  (=sails),  125, 126, 
128,  129 

courtesy,  147 

crabs  (=  apples),  164 

crack, 186 

crisp,  181 

curtsy,  147 

dead  of  sleep,  193 

dear,  154 

deboshed, 169 

deck,  137 

deliver  (=  relate),  195 

demand  (=as   ),  136 

demi-puppets,  187 

dew  (magic),  T40 

dewlapped  like  bulls,  172 

Dido,  Widow,  153 

Dis,  179 

disease,  189 

discharge,  159 

distempered,  182 

distinctly,  139 

doit,  162 

dolour  (play  upon),  152 

doubts  discovery,  158 


2  24         Index  of  Words  and   Phrases 


dowle,  173 
drawn,  160,  164 
drollery,  171 
drowning  mark,  128 
dry,  135 
dusky, 179 

earthy,  143 

ecstasy,  174 

either  (=  each  other),  150 

eld'st,  191 

endeavour,  156 

envy  (=  malice),  143 

estate  (verb),  179 

event  (=  issue),  168 

river  (=  once),  137 

every  these,  193 

eye  (=  tinge),  153 

fadom,  148 

fall  (transitive),  160,  188 

fear  (reflexive),  194 

fearful,  150 

feat,  159 

featly,  147 

fellow,  168 

fellowly,  188 

fever  of  the  mad,  140 

fine,  193 

fire  (dissyllable),  130 

flat-long,  156 

flote,  141 

foison,  156,  180 

footing  (=  dancing),  182 

foot  it,  147 

for  (=  against),  128 

for  (=  because),  143 

forgo,  171 

forthright,  171 

foul  (bombard),  161 

fraughting,  131 

free  (=  free  from),  ig6 

fresh  (noun),  169 

freshness  (plural?),  153 

frippery,  184 

from  (=  away  from),  133 

full  (adverb),  131 

funeral,  195 

gaberdine,  162 

genius,  175 

gentle,  150 

gilded  (=  drunk),  194 

gins  (verb),  174 

give  out  (=  give  up),  192 

glasses  (=  hours),  142 


glut  (=  swallow),  130 
go  (=  walk),  169 
good  (vocative),  126 
good  mischief,  184 
good  my  lord,  130,  184 
grace  (=  pardon),  194 
grand  hquor,  194 
green  sour  ringlets,  187 
grudge  (=  murmur),  142 

hand  (verb),  128 

hands  (=  applause),  196 

hearken  (transitive),  136 

best,  143,  167 

high  (=  extreme),  186 

him  (=  he),  1S6 

hint  (=  cause),  136,  151 

his  (=  its),  154 

hoist  (participle),  136 

hollowly,  168 

holp,  133 

holy,  188 

home  (=  to  the  full),  188 

honeycomb  (plural),  145 

hoodwink,  184 

I  (omitted),  147,  151,  184 
if  heed  me,  157 
ignorant  fumes,  etc.,  188 
impertinent,  136 
importuned  (accent),  154 
incharitable,  128 
inch-meal,  161 
infest  (=  vex),  193 
in  few,  136 
influence,  138 
infused,  137 
inherit   (=  possess),  164, 

182 
in  lieu  of,  136 
inly,  192 
in  my  rate,  154 
inquisition,  132 
into  (=  in),  143,  145 
invert,  168 
is  (=  are),  151 
it  (=its),  156 
it's,  134,  148 

Jack, 184 

jerkin,  184 

justify  (=  prove),  190 

key  of  oflSce,i34 

kibe,  159 

King  Stephano,  184 


lakin,  170 

land  (=  laund.'),  181 

lass-lorn,  179 

laughter,  152 

lay  her  a-hold,  129 

learn  (=  teach),  146 

lie  (play  upon),  169 

like  (=  alike),  173 

like  of,  167 

lilied,  176 

lime  (=  bird-lime),  184 

line  (=  lime),  183,  186 

liver  (seat  of  love),  176 

look  wearily,  167 

long  heath,  130 

lorded,  135 

loving  wrong,  137 

lush,  153 

lusty  (=  vigorous),  153 

maid  (=  servant),  168 

make  a  man,  162 

manage  (noun),  133 

marmoset,  164 

marriage-blessing,  180 

massy,  173 

master  (of  ship),  126, 
151 

meander,  171 

meddle,  131 

merchant  (=  merchant- 
man),   151 

merely,  120 

Milan  (=  duke  of),  135 

mine  (=  my),  174 

minion,  180 

Miranda,  167 

miss  (=  do  without),  144 

mistakings,  142 

moe,  15s,  193 

moon,  man  i'  the,  158 

moon-calf,  163 

mop,  176 

moping,  193 

more  better,  131 

more  braver,  150 

morsel  (personal),  160 

most  busy,  least  when  I 
do  it,  165 

mount  (=  raise),  161 

mouths,  cold,  129 

mow,  161,  176 

muse  (=  wonder),  172 

mushrumps,  188 

my  (subjective),  i8g 

myself  (subject),  191 


Index  of  Words  and   Phrases 


225 


natural  (play  uponl,  ibg 
nature    (=  natural    affec- 
tion), 189 
nerves  (=  sinews),  151 
nimble  (lungs) ,  156 
Nobody  (picture  of),  170 
no  man  was  his  own,  192 
nonpareil,  170 
nor  no,  148 

not  (transposed),  154,  189 
note  (=  news),  158 
now  I  arise,  137 
nuptial,  194 

observation  (=  observ- 
ance),  173 

o'er  (=over  again),  157 

of  (=  about),  154 

of  he  or  Adrian,  152 

omit  (=  neglect),  156 

on  (=of),  134,  I4S,  150, 
154,  182 

one  (play  upon),  152 

ooze,  142 

open-eyed,  160 

opportune  (accent),  175 

or  ere,  130,  189 

out  (=  fully),  132 

overtopping,  134 

owe  (=own),  148,  130, 
167 

painful,  165 

pains     (=  labours),    142, 

i6s 
Paphos,  180 
pass  of  pate,  184 
passion  (=  sorrow),  148 
passion  (=  suffering),  186 
passion  (trisyllable  ?),  182 
pay  thy  graces  home,  188 
peacocks  (Juno's),  179 
pertly,  176 
phoenix,  171 
piece  (=  model),  132 
pied,  169 
pig-nuts,  164 
pioned,  176 
place  (plural  ?),  145 
plantation    (play    upon), 

155       ^  , 
play  me  false,  191 
play  the  men,  127 
please  you,  195 
•pluck,  131,  190 
point  (to),  139 


pole-clipt,  179 
poor-John,  161 
post  (=  messenger),  158 
praise  in  departing,  172 
present,  of  the,  128 
present  (=  represent),  183 
presently,  136,  176 
prime    (=  first   in   rank), 

133 
princess  (plural,)  138 
proper,  162,  173 
Prosper,  174 
purchased,  175 
put  it  to  the  foil,  167 
putter-out  of  five  for  one, 

172 

quaint,  144 
quality,  139 
quick  freshes,  i6g 
quit  (=  quitted),  136 

rabble  (of  spirits),  175 
rack, 182 
rate,  154 

rear  my  hand,  160 
reasonable  shore,  189 
red  plague,  145 
reeling-ripe,  194 
relieved  by  prayer.  196 
remember  (thee),  142 
remorse  (=pity),  189 
requit,  173 
resolve     (=  explain     to) , 

193 
revenue  (accent),  135 
rid  (=  destroy),  145 
room  (=  sea-room),  127 
rounded,  182 

sack  (=  wine).  163 

sad  knot,  in  this,  140 

safely  (=  safe),  192 

saffron  wings.  179 

sanctimonious,  175 

sans,  134 

save  (=  God  save),  156 

scamels,  164 

scandal  (verb),  180 

scaped,  162 

screen  (figurative),  135 

sedged,  181 

sensible  (=  sensitive),  156 

set  (eyes),  169 

Setebos,  147 

sets  off  (=  offsets),  165 


several,  167,  193 

shakod  (=  shook), 161 

she  (=  her),  170 

short-grnssod  green,  179 

should,  148,  160 

shroud  (verb),  162 

siege,  163 

since  (with  past  tense), 
189 

single  (=weak),  149 

sir  (=  gentleman),  188 

Sir  Prudence,  160 

skilless,  167 

so  (omitted),  134,  170 

sociable  to  the  show  of 
thine,   188 

soft  grace,  igo 

solemnized  (accent),  19s 

sometime,  1S9 

so  rare  a  wondered  father, 
etc.,  181 

sore  (play  upon),  165, 195 

sot  (=  fool),  169 

.south-west,  144 

sphere  (Ptolemaic),  156 

spirit  (monosyllable),  144 

split,  192 

spoke  (participle),  175 

spongy, 178 

spriting,  144 

stale  (noun),  183 

standard,  169 

staniel,  164 

stare  (noun),  174 

steaded,  137 

Stephano  (accent),  194 

still  (=ever),  141,  173, 
192 

still-vexed,  141 

stinking,  130 

stock-fish,  169 

stomach  (=  appetite'>,  154 

stomach  (-  couragej    137 

stover,  176 

strengths,  173 

study  of  that,  154 

subtilty,  190 

suggestion  (=  tempta- 
tion),  160,    175 

supportable  (accent),  190 

sustaining  (garments), 
140 

swabber,  162 

taborer,  170 

take  't  as  thou  list,  170 


THE  TEMPEST 


15 


226 


Index  of  Words  and  Phrases 


talk  nothing,  156 

taste  some  subtilties,  190 

teen,  133 

tell  (=  count),  152,  160 

temperance  (=  tempera- 
ture), 153 

temperate,  182 

temporal  royalties,  135 

tend  (=  attend),  127 

tender  (=  regard),  159 

that  (omitted,  etc.),  149 

thatched,  176 

the  (omitted),  128,  162 

third  (=  thread),  174 

thou  (use  of),  149 

throughly,  171 

tilth,  155 

to  (=  for),  153,  173 

to-fore,  163 

topmast  (striking),  125, 
128 

top  of  admiration,  167 

trash, 134 

trebles  thee  o'er,  157 

trembling,  163 

trenchering,  164 

trice  (on  a),  193 

tricks  (freaks),  140 

tricksy,  192 

trifle,  189 

troll,  170 

true  (=  honest),  194 

trumpery,  183 

twilled,  176 


undergoing,  137 
up-staring,  140 
urchin,  144 
urchin-shows,  161 
utensils  (accent),  170 

valiant  (trisyllable),  169 
vanity,  176 
vast  of  night,  144 
verily  (=  true),  161 
villanous  (adverb),  185 
vineyard  (trisyllable),  179 
virgin-knot,  175 
virtue,  131 
visitation,  167 
visitor,  152 

waist  (of  ship),  139 
ward  (in  fencing),  151 
washing  of  ten  tides,  129 
water  with   berries  in  't, 

145 
weak  masters,  188 
wearily  (=  weary.),  167 
weather-fend,  186 
welkin's  cheek,  130 
well  drawn,  164 
wench,  136 
wezand,  169 
what    else    i'   the   world, 

168 
when     (of     impatience), 

144 
when  time  was,  163 


which  (the),  136 

which  (=  who),  145,  165 

wliile-ere,  170 

whiles,  145 

whist,  147 

white-cold,  176 

who  (=  which),  130,  154 

173 
who  (=whom),  134,  141 

174 
whom  (=  who),  1^4 
wicked,  144 
will  (customary),  139 
wink  (noun),  159 
wink  (=  shut   the  eyes), 

-.'57 
withal,  170 
with  a  twink,  176 
woe  for  't,  190 
wondered,  181 
works    (=  works    upon), 

182,    186 
worm  (personal),  167 
worser  genius,  175 
wrack,  131,  182 
wrangle,  191 

yare,  191 
yarely,  127 
year  (plural),  132 
your  (subjective),  186 
yours  (=  your),  159 

zenith,  138 


^ 


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Comedy  of  the  tempest.     ^Rev^