Dramatis Perfona. ALONSO, King of Naples. Sebaftian, bis Brother. Profpero, the rightfull Duke of Milan. Anthonio, his Brother, the ufurping Duke of Milan. Gonzalo, an honeft old Counsellor of Naples. Adrian, Francifco, Lords. S Caliban, a Salvage, and deformed Slave, Trinculo, a Jefter. Stephano, a drunken Butler. Mafter of a Ship, Boatfwain, and Mariners, THE TEMPE S T. A CT. I. SCENE, On a Ship at Sea. A tempeftuous noife of thunder and lightning heard: Enter a Ship-mafter, and a Boatswain. B MASTER. Oatfwain, Boat. Here, Mafter: what cheer? Maft. Good, fpeak to th' mariners fall to't yarely, or we run our felves a-ground; beftir, beftir. Enter Mariners. [Exit. Boat. Hey, my hearts; cheerly, my hearts; yare, yare; take in the top fail; tend to th' mafter's whistle; blow, 'till thou burst thy wind, if room enough. Enter Alonfo, Sebaftian, Anthonio, Ferdinand, Alon. Good Boatswain, have care: where's the mafter? play the men. Boats. I pray now, keep below. B 2 Ant. Ant. Where is the mafter, boatswain? Boats. Do you not hear him? you mar our labour; keep your cabins; you do affift the ftorm. Gonz. Nay, good, be patient. Boats. When the fea is. Hence -what care thefe Roarers for the name of King? to cabin; filence; trouble us not. Gonz. Good, yet remember whom thou haft aboard. Boatf. None, that I more love than my felf. You are a counsellor; if you can command thefe elements to filence, and work the peace o'the prefent, we will not hand a rope more; ufe your authority. If you cannot, give thanks you have liv'd fo long, and make your felf ready in your cabin for the mifchance of the hour, if it fo hap. Cheerly, good hearts: out of our way, I fay. [Exit. Gonz. I have great comfort from this fellow; methinks, he hath no drowning mark upon him; his complexion is perfect gallows. Stand faft, 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 hang'd, our cafe is miserable. [Exeunt. Re-enter Boatfwain. Boats. Down with the top-maft: yare, lower, lower; bring her to try with main-courfe. A plague upon this howling! A cry within. Re-enter Sebaftian, Anthonio, and Gonzalo. they are louder than the weather, or our office. Yet again? what do you here? fhall we give o'er, and drown? have you a mind to fink? Sebaf. A pox o' your throat, you bawling, blafphemous, uncharitable dog. Boats. Work you then. Ant. Hang, cur, hang; you whorefon, infolent, noisemaker; we are lefs afraid to be drown'd, than thou art. Gonz. I'll warrant him from drowning, tho' the ship were no ftronger than a nut shell, and as leaky as an 'unftanch'd wench. Boats. Boat. Lay her a-hold, a-hold; fet her two courfes off to fea again, lay her off. Enter Mariners wet. Mar. All loft! to prayers, to prayers! all loft! [Exe. Boats. What, muft our mouths be cold? Gonz. The King and Prince at pray'rs! let us affift 'em. For our cafe is as theirs. Seb. I'm out of patience. Ant. We're meerly cheated of our lives by drunkards. This wide-chopt rafcal-Would, thou might'ft lye drowning, The washing of ten tides! Gonz. He'll be hang'd yet, Though every drop of water fwear againft it, And gape at wid'ft to glut him. A confufed noife within.] Mercy on us! We fplit, we split! Farewel, my Wife and Children!^ Brother, farewel! we fplit, we split, we split! Ant. Let's all fink with the King. Seb. Let's take leave of him. [Exit. [Exit. Gonz. Now would I give a thousand furlongs of fea for 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 changes to a Part of the Inchanted Ifland, near the Cell of Profpero. Mira. Enter Profpero and Miranda. F by your art (my deareft father) you have Put the wild Waters in this roar, allay them: The sky, it feems, would pour down ftinking pitch, But that the fea, mounting to th' welkin's cheek, Dafhes the fire out.. Ó! I have fuffer'd With thofe that I faw fuffer: a brave veffel (Who had, no doubt, fome noble creatures in her) Dafh'd all to pieces. O! the cry did knock B 3 Againft Against my very heart: poor fouls, they perish'd! Pro. Be collected; No more amazement; tell your piteous heart, Mira. O wo the day! Pro. No harm. I have done nothing but in care of thee, Mira. More to know Did never meddle with my thoughts. Pro. 'Tis time, I fhould inform thee farther. Lend thy hand, [Lays down his mantle. Lye there my Art. Wipe thou thine eyes, have comfort. The direful fpectacle of the wreck, which touch'd I have with fuch provifion in mine art So fafely order'd, that there is no foyle, (1) Betid to any creature in the vessel Which thou heard'ft cry, which thou faw'st sink: fit down; For thou muft now know farther. Mira. You have often (1) is no Foyle,] i. e. no Damage, Lofs, Detriment. The two old Folio's read,---- is no Soul: which will not agree in Grammar with the following Part of the Sentence. Mr. Rowe firft fubftituted---- no Soul loft, which does not much mend the Matter, taking the Context together. Foyle is a Word familiar with our Poet, and in fome Degree fynonomous to Perdition in the next Line, Begun |