Mine enemy has more power.

[He draws, and is charmed from mowing,

Mira. O dear father,

Make not too rafh a trial of him; for

He's gentle, and not fearful.

Pro. What, I fay,

My foot my tutor? put thy fword up, traitor,
Who mak'ft a fhew, but dar'ft not ftrike; thy conscience
Is fo poffeft with guilt: come from thy ward,

For I can here difarm thee with this flick,

And make thy weapon drop.

Mira. Befeech you, father.

Pro. Hence: hang not on my garment.
Mira. Sir, have pity;

I'll be his furety.

Pro. Silence: one word more

Shall make me chide thee, if not hate thee.

An advocate for an impoftor? hush!

What,

Thou think'ft there are no more fuch fhapes as he,
Having feen but him and Galiban; foolish wench!
To th' most of men this is a Caliban,

And they to him are angels.

Mira. My affections

Are then moft humble: I have no ambition

To fee a goodlier man.

Pro. Come on, obey:

Thy nerves are in their infancy again,

And have no vigour in them.

Fer. So they are:

My fpirits, as in a dream, are all bound up.

My father's lofs, the weakness which I feel,

The wreck of all my friends, and this man's threats,
To whom I am fubdu'd, are but light to me;
Might I but through my prifon once a day
Behold this maid: all corners elfe o' th' earth
Let liberty make ufe of; space enough
Have I, in fuch a prison.

Pro. It works: come on.

(Thou haft done well, fine Ariel :) follow me. Hark, what thou else shalt do me.

[To Ariel

Mira. Be of comfort,

My father's of a better nature, Sir,

Than he appears by fpeech: this is unwonted,
Which now came from him.

Pro. Thou shalt be as free

As mountain winds; but then exa&ly do
All points of my command.
Ari. To th' fyllable.

Pro. Come, follow: fpeak not for him.

[Exeunt.

SCENE, another part of the Island.

Enter Alonfo, Sebaftian, Anthonio, Gonzalo, Adrian, Francifco, and others.

B

GONZALO.

Efeech you, Sir, be merry: you have cause
(So have we all) of joy! for our escape
Is much beyond our lofs; our hint of woe
Is common; every day, fome failor's wife,
The mafters of fome merchant, and the merchant
Have just our theam of woe: but for the miracle,
(I mean our preservation) few in millions

Can fpeak like us: then wifely, good Sir, weigh
Our forrow with our comfort.

Alon. Pry'thee, peace. (12)

Sed.

(12) Alon. Prythee peace.] All that follows from hence to this fpeech of the King's.

You cram thefe words into my ears againft

The ftomach of my sense.

feems to Mr. Pope to have been an interpolation by the Players. For my part, tho' I allow the matter of the dialogue to be very poor and trivial, (of which, I am forry to fay, we don't want other inftances in our Poet;) I cannot be of this Gentleman's opinion, that it is interpolated. For fhould we take out this intermediate part, what would become of these words of the King?

Would I had never

Married my daughter there!

What

Seb. He receives comfort like cold porridge.
Ant. The vifitor will not give o'er fo.

Seb. Look, he's winding up the watch of his wit, by and by it will ftrike.

Gon. Sir,

Seb. One:

-Tell,

Gon. When every grief is entertain'd, that's offer'ds comes to the entertainer

Seb. A dollor.

Gox. Dolour comes to him, indeed; you have spoken truer than you propos'd.

Seb. You have taken it wifelier than I meant you should. Gon. Therefore, my Lord,

Ant. Fy, what a spendthrift is he of his tongue ? Alon. I pr'ythee, fpare,

Gon. Well, I have done: but yet

Seb. He will be talking.

Ant. Which of them, he, or Adrian, for a good wager, firft begins to crow?

Seb. The old coc

Ant. The cockrel.

Seb. Done the wager?

Ant. A laughter.

Seb. A match.

Adr. Though this ifland feem to be defart-
Seb. Ha, ha, ha.So, you're paid.

Adr. Uninhabitable, and almoft inacceffible-
Seb. Yet,

Adr. Yet

Ant. He could not mifs't.

What daughter? and, where married? For it is from this intermediate part of the fcene only, that we are told, the King had a daughter nam'd Claribel, whom he bad married into Tunis. 'Tis true, in a fubfequent fcene, betwixt Antonio and Sebaftian, we again hear her and Tunis mention'd: but in fuch a manner, that it would be quite obfcure and unintelligible without this previous information. Mr. Pope's criticism therefore is injudicious and unweigh'd. Befides, poor and jejune as the matter of the dialogue is, it was certainly d fign'd to be of a ridiculous ftamp; to divert and unfettle the King's thoughts from reflecting too deeply on his fon's fuppos'd drowning.

Adr.

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

Aut. Temperance was a delicate wench.

Seb Ay, and a fubtle, as he most learnedly deliver❜d.
Adr. The air breathes upon us here molt fweetly.
Seb. As if it had lungs, and rotten ones."
At. Or, as 'twere perfum'd by a fen.

'Gon. Here is every thing advantageous to life.
Ant. True, fave means to live.

Seb. Of that there's none or little.

Gon. How lush and lufty the grafs looks? how green? Ant. The ground indeed is tawny.

Seb. With an eye of green in't.

Ant. He miffes not much.

Seb. No: he does but mistake the truth totally. Gon. But the rarity of it is, which is indeed almoft beyond credit

Seb. As many voucht rarities are.

Gon. That our garments being (as they were) drench'd in the fer, hold notwithstanding their freshness and gloffes; being rather new dy'd, than ftain'd with falt

water.

Azt. If but one of his pockets could fpeak, would it not fay, he lies ?

Seb. Ay, or very falfely pocket ap his report.

Gen. Methinks. our garments are now as freth as when we put them on firft in Africk, at the marriage of the King's fair daughter Claribel to the King of Tunis.

Seb. 'Twas a fweet marriage, and we prosper well in our return.

Adr. Tunis was never grac'd before with such a paragon to their Queen.

Gon. Not fince widow Dido's time.

Ant. Widow? a pox o'that: how came that widow in? widow Dido!

Seb. What if he had faid, wilower Eneas too?

Good Lord, how you take it!

Adr. Widow Dido, faid you? you make me study of that he was of Carthage, not of Tunis.

Gon. This Tunis, Sir, was Carthage.
C

VOL. I.

Adr.

}

Adr. Carthage?

Gon. I affure you, Carthage.

Ant. His word is more than the miraculous harp,
S.b. He hath rais'd the wall, and houfes too.

Ant. What impoffible matter will he make eafy next? Seb. I think, he will carry this island home in his pocket, and give it his fon for an apple.

Aut. And fowing the kernels of it in the fea, bring forth more iflands.

Gon. Ay.

Ant. Why, in good time.

Gon. Sir, we were talking, that our garments feem now as fresh, as when we were at Tunis at the marriage of your daughter, who is now Queen.

Ant. And the rareft that e'er came there.

Seb. Bate, I beseech you, widow Dido.
Ant. O, widow Dido! ay, widow Dido!
Gen. Is not my doublet,

Sir, as fresh as the first day I wore it? I mean, in a fort.

Ant. That fort was well fish'd for.

Gon. When I wore it at your daughter's marriage.
Alon. You cram thefe words into mine ears againft
The ftomach of my fenfe. Would I had never
Married my daughter there! for coming thence,
My fon is loft; and, in my rate, fhe too;
Who is fo far from Italy remov'd,

I ne'er again fhall fee her: O thou mine heir
Of Naples and of Milan, what ftrange fifh
Hath made his meal on thee.

Fran. Sir, he may live.

I faw him beat the farges under him,

And ride upon their backs; he trod the water;
Whofe enmity he flung afide, and breafted

The furge moft fwoln that met him: his bold head
"Bove the contentious waves he kept, and oar'd
Himself with his good arms in lufly ftrokes

To th' fhore; that o'er his wave-worn bafis bow'd,
As fooping to relieve him: I not doubt,

He came alive to land.

Alon. No, no, he's gone.

Seb.