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An EPITAPH on the admirable Dramatick Poet,


What needs my Shakespeare for his honour'd bones,
The labour of an age in piled stones;
Or that his hallow'd reliques should be hid
Under a star-y-pointing pyramid?
Dear fun of memory, great heir of fame,
What need'it thou such weak witness of thy name?
Thou, in our wonder and astonishment,
Haft built thyself a live-long monument :
For whilst, to the shame of low-endeavouring art,
Thy easy numbers flow, and that each heart
Hath, from the leaves of thy unvalu'd book,
Those Delphick lines with deep impreffion took ;
Then thou, our fancy of itself bereaving,
Dost make us marble with too much conceiving;
And so sepulcher'd, in such pomp doft lye,
That kings, for such a tomb, would wish to die,

Ν Ο Τ Ε. This last poem was writ by the great Milton; and is here given you as it lies in an edition of that author's poems, printed in 1673, octavo; where it is only inscribed, “ On Shakespeare," and dated 1630. This poem, that immediately before it, and the first Upon Mis Efigies," are not in the first folio.

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Alonso, king of Naples.
SEBASTIAN, his brother.
Prospero, the rightful duke of Milan,
ANTHON10, his brother, the usurping duke of Milan.
FERDINAND, son to the king of Naples.
GONZALO, an honest old counsellor of Naples.

CALIBAN, a savage, and deformed save.
TRINCULO, a jester.
STEPHANO, a drunken butler.
Master of a fhip, boatfwain, and mariners.
MIRANDA, daughter to Prospero,
Ariel, an aiery spirit.


Other spirits, attending on Prospero.

SCE N E, the sea with a ship, afterwards an vainhabited



Τ Ε Μ Ρ Ε S T.

А с т І.


On a ship at sea. A tempeftuous noise of thunder and lightning heard.

Enter a ship-master and a boatswain.


, Boats. Here, master: what cheer? Mast. Good, speak to the, or we run ourselves aground; bestir, bestir,

Fall to't yare


Enter mariners. Boats. Hey, my hearts; cheerly, my hearts; yare, yare; take in the top-sail; tend to the master's whistle;

-blow, 'till thou burst thy wind, if room enough. Enter Alonso, Sebastian, Anthonio, Ferdinand, Gonzalo,

and others. ALON. Good boatswain, have care: where's the master? play the men.

Boats. I pray now, keep below.
Ant. Where is the master, boatswain?

Boats. Do you not hear him? you mar our labour; keep your cabins: you do affist the storm.

Gon. Nay, good, be patient.

Boats. When the sea is. Hence! what care these roarcrs for the name of king? to cabin; silence, trouble us not. Gon. Good, yet remember whom thou hast aboard.

Boats. None, that I more love than myself. You are a counsellor; if you can command these elements to silence, and work the peace o'the present, we will not handle a rope more; use your authority. 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. -Out of our way, I say.

[Exit. Gon. I have great comfort from this fellow; methinks he has no drowning mark upon him; his complexion is perfect gallows. Stand fast, good fate, to his hanging; make the rope of his destiny our cable, for our own doth little advantage; if he be not born to be hanged, our case is miserable.


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