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And seem'd to ask him sops as he was drinking.
This done, he took the bride about the neck;
And kiss'd her lips with such a clamorous smack,
That, at the parting, all the church did echo.
THE MIND ALONE VALUABLE. For 'tis the mind that makes the body rich; And as the sun breaks through the darkest clouds, So honour peereth * in the meanest habit. What, is the jay more precious than the lark, Because his feathers are more beautiful? Or is the adder better than the eel, Because his painted skin contents the eye? 0, no, good Kate; neither art thou the worse For this poor furniture, and mean array.
ACT V. THE WIFE'S DUTY TO HER HUSBAND. Fie, fie! unknit that threatening unkind brow; And dart not scornful glances from those eyes, To wound thy lord, thy king, thy governor: It blots thy beauty, as frosts bite the meads; Confounds thy fame, as whirlwinds shake fair buds; And in no sense is meet, or amiable. A woman mov’d, is like a fountain troubled, Muddy, ill-seeming, thick, bereft of beauty; And, while it is so, none so dry or thirsty Will deign to sip, or touch one drop of it. Thy husband is thy lord, thy life, thy keeper, Thy head, thy sovereign; one that cares for thee, And for thy maintenance: commits his body To painful labour, both by sea and land; To watch the night in storms, the day in cold,
While thou liest warm at home, secure and safe ;
And craves no other tribute at thy hands,
But love, fair looks, and true obedience;
Too little payment for so great a debt.
Such duty as the subject owes the prince,
Even such a woman oweth to her husband:
And, when she's froward, peevish, sullen, sour,
And not obedient to his honest will,
What is she, but a foul contending rebel,
And graceless traitor to her loving lord?-
I am asham'd, that women are so simple
To offer war, where they should kneel for peace;
Or seek for rule, supremacy, and sway,
When they are bound to serve, love, and obey.
Why are our bodies soft, and weak, and smooth,
Unapt to toil and trouble in the world;
But that our soft conditions * and our hearts,
Should well agree with our external parts?
AN USURPING SUBSTITUTE COMPARED TO JOY.
That now he was The ivy, which had hid my princely trunk, And suck'd my verdure out on't.
ARIEL'S DESCRIPTION OF MANAGING THE STORM.
I boarded the king's ship; now on the beak, Now in the waist, the deck, in every cabin, I flam'd amazement: Sometimes, I'd divide, And burn in many places; on the top-mast, The yards, and bowsprit, would I flame distinctly, Then meet, and join: Jove's lightnings, the precursors O' the dreadful thunder-claps, more momentary
And sight-out-running were not: The fire, and cracks Of sulphurous roaring, the most mighty Neptune Seem'd to besiege, and make his bold waves tremble, Yea, his dread trident shake.
Not a soul,
But felt a fever of the mad, and play'd
Some tricks of desperation : All, but mariners,
Plung'd in the foaming brine, and quit the vessel,
Then all a-fire with me: the king's son, Ferdinand,
With hair up-staring (then like reeds, not hair,)
Was the first man that leapd; cried, Hell is empty,
And all the devils are here.
PROSPERO REPRỌVING ARIEL.
Thou dost; and think'st
It much; to tread the ooze 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.
Cal. As wicked dew as e'er my mother brush'd
With raven's feather from unwholesome fen,
Drop on you both! a south-west blow on ye,
And blister you all o'er!
Pro. For this, be sure, to-night thou shalt have
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 honeycombs, each pinch more stinging
Than bees that made them.
Cal. I must eat my dinner.
This island's mine, by Sycorax my mother,
Which thou tak'st from me. When thou camest first,
Thou strok’dst me, and mad'st much of me; wouldst
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 for-
Cursed be I that did so!-All the charms stile;
Of Sycorax, toads, beetles, bats, light on you! .
For I am all the subjects that you have,
Which first was mine own king: and here you sty me
In this hard rock, whiles you do keep from me
The rest of the island.
CALIBAN'S EXULTATION AFTER PROSPERO TELLS HIM
HE SOUGHT TO VIOLATE THE HONOUR OF HIS CHILL.
O ho, O ho!'would it had been done!
Thou didst prevent me; I had peopled else
This isle with Calibans.
Where should this music be? i'the air, or the earth?
It sounds no more:-and sure, it waits upon
Some god of the island. Sitting on a bank,
Weeping again the king my father's wreck,
This music crept by me upon the waters;
Allaying both their fury, and my passion,
With its sweet air.
Full fathom five thy father lies;
Of his bones are coral made;
Those are pearls, that were bis eyes :
Nothing of him that doth fade,
But doth suffer a sea-change
Into something rich and strange.
Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell:
Hark! now I hear them,—ding-dong, bell.
A LOVER'S SPEECH.
My spirits, as in a dream, are all bound up.
My father's loss, the weakness which I feel,
The wreck of all my friends, or 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
Let liberty make use of; space enough
Have I in such a prison. .
DESCRIPTION OF FERDINAND'S SWIMMING ASHORE. I saw him beat the surges under him, And ride upon their backs; he trod the water, Whose enmity he flung aside, and breasted The surge most swoln that met him: bis bold head 'Bove the contentious waves he kept, and oard 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.
Do not omit the heavy offer of it:
It seldom visits sorrow; when it doth,
It is a comforter.
A FINE APOSIOPESIS.
They fell together all, as by consent;
They dropp'd, as by a thunder-stroke. What might,
Worthy Sebastian ?-0, what might?-No more:-
And yet, methinks, I see it in thy face,
What thou shouldst be: the occasion speaks thee: and
My strong imagination sees a crown
Dropping upon thy head.
CALIBAN'S CURSES. 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'll nor pinch, . Fright me with urchin shows, pitch me i’ the mire, Nor lead me, like a fire-brand, in the dark Out of my way, unless he bid them; but For every trifle are they set upon me: Sometime like apes, that moe * and chatter at me, And after, bite me; then like hedge-hogs, which
* Make mouths.