Seb. And yet he would be king on't. Ant. The latter end of his commonwealth forgets the beginning.

Gon. 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,
Of its own kind, all foizon, all abundance,
To feed my innocent people.

Seb. No marrying 'mong his subjects?
Ant. None, man; all idle; whores and knaves.
Gon. I would with such perfection govern, sir,
To excel the golden age.

Seb.

Save his majesty !

Ant. Long live Gonzalo ! Gon. And, do you mark me, sir?-— Alon. Pr'ythee, no more: thou dost talk nothing to me. Gon. I do well believe your highness; and did it to minister occasion to these gentlemen, who are of such sensible and nimble lungs that they always use to laugh at nothing.

Ant. "Twas you we laughed at.

Gon. Who, in this kind of merry fooling, am nothing to you: so you may continue, and laugh at nothing still. Ant. What a blow was there given!

Seb. An if it had not fallen flat-long.

Gon. You are gentlemen of brave mettle: you would lift the moon out of her sphere, if she would continue in it five weeks without changing.

Enter ARIEL invisible, playing solemn music. Seb. We would so, and then go a bat-fowling. Ant. Nay, good my lord, be not angry.

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

Ant. Go sleep, and hear us.

[All sleep but ALON. SEB. and ANT. Alon. 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.

Seb.

Please you, sir,

Then, tell me

Claribel.

Who's the next heir of Naples ?
Seb.
Ant. She that is queen of Tunis; she that dwells
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 were all sea-swallow'd, though some cast again;
And, by that, destin'd to perform an act,
Whereof what's past is prologue; what to come,
In yours and my discharge.

Seb.
What stuff is this?-How say you
'Tis true my brother's daughter's queen of Tunis ;
So is she heir of Naples; 'twixt which regions
There is some space.

Ant. 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 As amply and unnecessarily

As this Gonzalo: I myself could make

A chough of as deep chat. Oh! that you bore
The mind that I do! what a sleep were this
For your advancement! Do you understand me?
Seb. Methinks I do.
Ant.
And how does your content
Tender your own good fortune?
Seb.
I remember,
You did supplant your brother Prospero.
Ant.
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.
Seb. But, for your conscience-

True:

Ant. Ay, sir; where lies that? If it were a kybe,
"Twould 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! Here lies your brother,
No better than the earth he lies upon,

If he were that which now he's like; whom I,
With this obedient steel, three inches of it,
Can lay to bed for ever; whiles you, doing thus,
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'll take suggestion, as a cat laps milk;
They'll tell the clock to any business that
We say befits the hour.

Seb.

Thy case, dear friend, Shall be my precedent; as thou got'st Milan, I'll come by Naples. Draw thy sword: one stroke Shall free thee from the tribute which thou pay❜st; And I the king shall love thee. Ant. Draw together: And when I rear my hand, do you the like, To fall it on Gonzalo. Seb.

Oh! but one word.

Ant. Then let us both be sudden.

Gon. Now, good angels, preserve the king!

[They awake. Alon. Why, how now? ho! awake! Why are you drawn?

Wherefore this ghastly looking?
Gon.
What's the matter?
Seb. Whiles we stood here, securing your repose,
Even now we heard a hollow burst of bellowing
Like bulls, or rather lions; did it not wake you
It struck mine ear most terribly.
Alon.

?

I heard nothing.
Ant. Oh! 'twas a din to fright a monster's ear;
To make an earthquake! sure it was the roar
Of a whole herd of lions.
Alon.

Heard you this, Gonzalo?
Gon. Upon mine honour, sir, I heard a humming,
And that a strange one too, which did awake me:
I shak'd you, sire, and cried; as mine eyes open'd,
I saw their weapons drawn :-there was a noise,
That's verity: best stand upon our guard;

Or that we quit this place: let's draw our weapons. Alon. Lead off the ground; and let's make further search

For my poor son.
Gon.
Heavens keep him from these beasts!
For he is, sure, i' the island.
Alon.
Lead away.
Ari. Prospero my lord shall know what I have done :
Eo, king, go safely on to seek thy son. [Aside. Exeunt.
SCENE II.-Another part of the Island.
Enter CALIBAN, with a burden of wood.
A noise of thunder heard.

Cal. All the infections that the sun sucks up
From bogs, fens, flats, on Prosper fall, and make hira
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 firebrand, in the dark
Out of my way, unless he bid them; but
For every trifle are they set upon me:
Sometimes like apes that moe and chatter at me,
And after, bite me; then like hedge-hogs, which
Lie tumbling in my barefoot way, and mount
Their pricks at my footfall: sometimes am I
All wound with adders, who, with cloven tongues,
Do hiss me into madness:-Lo! now! lo!
Enter TRINCULO.

Here comes a spirit of his; and to torment me
For bringing wood in slowly: I'll fall flat;
Perchance he will not mind me.

Trin. 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, yond' huge one, looks like a foul bumbard 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: he smells like a fish; a very ancient and fish-like smell; a kind of, not of the newest, Poor-John. A strange fish! Were I in England now (as once as I was), and had but this fish painted, not a holiday-fool there but would give a piece of silver: there would this monster 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 Indian. Legg'd like a man! and his fins like arms! Warm, o' my troth! I do now let loose my opinion, hold it no longer; this is no fish but an islander, that hath lately suffered by a thunderbolt. [Thunder.] Alas! the storm is come again: my best way is to creep under his gaberdine; there is no other shelter hereabout: Misery acquaints a man with strange bed-fellows. I will here shroud, till the dregs of the storm be past.

Enter STEPHANO, singing; a bottle in his hand. Ste. I shall no more to sea, to sea,

Here shall I die ashore ;

Ste. What's the matter? Have we devils here? Do you put tricks upon us with savages and men of Inde? Ha! I have not 'scap'd drowning, to be afear'd now of your four legs; fr it hath been said, As proper a man as ever went on four legs cannot make him give ground: and it shall be said so again, whilst Stephano breathes at nostrils.

Cal. The spirit torments me: Oh!

Ste. 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 recover 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. Cal. Do not torment me, pr'ythee. I'll bring my wood home faster.

Ste. 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 remove his fit: if 1 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.

Cal. Thou dost me yet but little hurt; thou wilt anon, I know it by thy trembling: Now Prosper works upon thee.

Ste. 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.

Trin. I should know that voice: It should be-But he is drowned; and these are devils: Oh! defend me !— Ste. Four legs and two voices; a most delicate monster! His forward voice now is to speak 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.

Trin. Stephano,

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

Trin. Stephano !—if thou beest Stephano, touch me, and speak to me; for I am Trinculo;-be not afear'd, -thy good friend Trinculo.

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

Trin. I took him to be kill'd with a thunder-stroke: -But art thou not drown'd, Stephano? I hope now. thou art not drown'd. Is the storm over-blown? I hid me under the dead moon-calf's gaberdine, for fear of the storm: And art thou living, Stephano? O Stephano, two Neapolitans 'scup'd!

Ste. Pr'ythee, do not turn me about; my stomach is not constant.

Cal. These be fine things, an if they be not sprites. That's a brave god, and bears celestial liquor: I will kneel to him.

Ste. How did'st thou 'scape? How cam'st thou hither? swear by this bottle, how thou cam'st hither. I escap'd upon a butt of sack which the sailors heaved overboard, by this bottle! which I made of the bark of a tree, with mine own hands, since I was cast a-shore. Cal. I'll swear, upon that bottle, to be thy True subject; for the liquor is not earthly.

Ste. Here; swear then how thou escap❜dst. Trin. Swam a-shore, man, like a duck. I can swim like a duck, I'll be sworn.

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

Trin. O Stephano, hast any more of this?

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

Cal. Hast thou not dropp'd from heaven? Ste. Out o' the moon, I do assure thee: I was the man in the moon, when time was.

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

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

Trin. By this good light, this is a very shallow monster:-I afear'd of him?-a very weak monster:The man i' the moon?-a most poor credulous monster:-Well drawn, monster, in good sooth.

Cal. I'll show thee every fertile inch o' the island; And kiss thy foot: I pr'ythee be my god.

Trin. By this light, a most perfidious and drunken monster: when his god's asleep, he'll rob his bottle.

Cal. I'll kiss thy foot: I'll swear myself thy subject. Ste. Come on, then; down, and swear.

Trin. I shall laugh myself to death at this puppyheaded monster! A most scurvy monster. I could find in my heart to beat him,

Ste. Come, kiss. Trin.

but that the poor monster's in drink: an abominable monster.

Cal. I'll show thee the best springs; I'll pluck thee berries;

I'll fish for thee, and get thee wood enough.

A plague upon the tyrant that I serve!

I'll bear him no more sticks, but follow thee,
Thou wond'rous man.

Trin. A most ridiculous monster; to make a wonder of a poor drunkard.

Cal. I pr'ythee 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 marmozet; I'll bring thee To clust'ring filberds, and sometimes I'll get thee Young sea-mells from the rock: Wilt thou go with me?

Ste. I pr'ythee now lead the way, without any more talking. Trinculo, the king and all our company else being drowned, we'll inherit here.-Here; bear my bottle. Fellow Trinculo, we'll fill him by and by again. Cal. Farewell, master; farewell, farewell. [Sings drunkenly. Trin. A howling monster; a drunken monster. Cal. No more dams I'll make for fish; Nor fetch in firing

At requiring,

SCENE I.-Before PROSPERO's Cell.

Enter FERDINAND, bearing a log.

Fer. There be some sports are painful; but 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 'tis odious; but

The mistress which I serve, quickens what's dead,
And makes my labours pleasures: Oh! she is
Ten times more gentle than her father's crabbed;
And he's compos'd of harshness. I must remove
Some thousands of these logs, and pile them up,
Upon a sore injunction: My sweet mistress

Weeps when she sees me work; and says such baseness

Had ne'er such executor. I forget:

But these sweet thoughts do even refresh my labours; Most busy-less, when I do it.

Enter MIRANDA; and PROSPERO at a distance. Mira. Alas! now, pray you Work not so hard: I would the lightning had Burnt up those logs that you are enjoin'd to pile! Pray, set it down, and rest you: when this burns, "Twill weep for having wearied you: My father Is hard at study: pray now, rest yourself:

He's safe for these three hours.

Fer. O most dear mistress, The sun will set before I shall discharge What I must strive to do.

Mira.

If you'll sit down,

Miranda :-O my father,

I have broke your hest to say so!
Fer.
Admir'd Miranda |
Indeed, the top of admiration; worth
What's dearest to the world! Full many a lady
I have ey'd with best regard; and many a time
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 ow'd,
And put it to the foil: But you, O you,
So perfect and so peerless, are created
Of every creature's best.

I do not know

Mira. One of my sex; no woman's face remember, Save, from my glass, mine own; nor have I seen More that I may call men, than you, good friend, And my dear father: how features are abroad, I am skill-less of; but, by my modesty, (The jewel in my dower,) 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 Therein forget.

Fer.

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 I would 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.

Mira.

Do you love me?

Fer. O heaven, O earth, bear witness to this sound.
And crown what I profess with kind event,
If I speak true; if hollowly, invert
What best is boded me, to mischief! I
Beyond all limit of what else i' the world,
Do love, prize, honour you.
Mira.

To weep at what I am glad of.
Pro.

I am a fool,

Fair encounter Heavens rain grace

Of two most rare affections!
On that which breeds between them!
Fer.

Wherefore weep you?

Mira. 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,

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'll die your maid: to be your fellow
You may deny me; but I'll be your servant,
Whether you will or no.

SCENE II.-Another part of the Island. Enter STEPHANO and TRINCULO; CALIBAN following with a bottle.

Ste. 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.

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

totters.

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

Trin. Where should they be set else? He were a brave monster indeed, if they were set in his tail.

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

Trin. Your lieutenant, if you list; he's no standard. Ste. We'll not run, monsieur monster.

Trin. Nor go, neither: but you'll lie, like dogs; and yet say nothing neither.

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

Cal. How does thy honour? Let me lick thy shoe. I'll not serve him; he is not valiant.

Trin. Thou liest, most ignorant monster; I am in case to justle a constable: Why, thou deboshed fish, thou, was there ever a 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 monster?

Cal. Lo, how he mocks me! wilt thou let him, my lord?

Trin. Lord, quoth he!-that a monster should be

Cal. Thou liest, thou jesting monkey, thou;
I would, my valiant master would destroy thee:
I do not lie.

Ste. Trinculo, if you trouble him any more in his tale, by this hand, I will supplant some of your teeth. Trin. Why, I said nothing.

Ste. Mum, then, and no more.-[To Caliban. Proceed.

Cal. 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.

Ste. That's most certain.

Cal. Thou shalt be lord of it, and I'll serve thee. Ste. How now shall this be compassed? Canst thou bring me to the party?

Cal. Yea, yea, my lord; I'll yield him thee asleep, Where thou may'st knock a nail into his head.

Ari. Thou liest, thou canst not.

Cal. What a pied ninny's this? Thou scurvy patch!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'll not show him Where the quick freshes are.

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

thee.

Trin. Why, what did I? I did nothing; I'll go further off.

Ste. Did'st thou not say, he lied?

Ari. Thou liest.

Ste. Do I so? take thou that. [Strikes him.] As you like this, give me the lie another time.

Trin. 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 monster, and the devil take your fingers.

Cal. Ha, ha, ha!

Ste. Now, forward with your tale. Pr'ythee stand further off.

Cal. Beat him enough: after a little time,

I'll beat him too.

Ste. Stand further.-Come, proceed.

Cal. Why, as I told thee, 'tis a custom with him

I' the afternoon to sleep: there thou may'st brain him,

Having first seiz'd his books; or with a log
Batter his skull, or paunch him with a stake,
Or cut his wezard 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,)

Cal. Be not afear'd: 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.

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

Cal. When Prospero is destroyed.

Ste. That shall be, by and by: I remember the story. Trin. The sound is going away: let's follow it, and, after, do our work.

Ste. Lead, monster: we'll follow.-I would I could see this taborer: he lays it on.

Trin. Wilt come? I'll follow, Stephano. [Exeunt. SCENE III.—Another part of the Island. Enter ALONZO, SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, GONZALO, ADRIAN, FRANCISCO, and others.

Gon. By'r lakin, I can go no further, sir: My old bones ache: here's a maze trod, indeed, Through forth-rights and meanders! by your patience, I needs must rest me. Alon. 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. Ant. I am right glad that he's so out of hope.

Gon. Marvellous sweet music!

Alon. Give us kind keepers, heavens! What were these?

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

Ant.

I'll believe both;

And what else does want credit, come to me,
And I'll be sworn 'tis true: Travellers ne'er did lie,
Though fools at home condemn them.
Gon.

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,)

Who, though they are of monstrous shape, yet, note,
Their manners are more gentle-kind, than of
Our human generation you shall find
Many, nay, almost any.

Pro.

Honest lord,

Gon. 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 them
Wallets of flesh? or that there were such men,

Whose heads stood in their breasts? which now we find,
Each putter-out on five for one, will bring us
Good warrant of.

Alon.

I will stand to, and feed,
Although my last; no matter, since I feel
The best is past :-Brother, my lord the duke,
Stand to, and do as we.

Thunder and Lightning. Enter ARIEL, like a harpy; claps his wings upon the table, and, with a quaint device, the banquet vanishes.

Ari. 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 caused to belch up, and on this island
Where man doth not inhabit; you 'mongst men
Being most unfit to live. I have made you mad;

[Seeing ALON. SEB. &c. draw their swords.
And even with such like valour men hang and drown
Their proper selves. You fools! I and my fellows
Are ministers of fate; the elements,

Of whom your swords are temper'd, may as well
Wound the loud winds, or with be-mock'd-at stabs
Kill the still-closing waters, as diminish

One dowle that's in my plume: iny fellow-ministers
Are like invulnerable: if you could hurt,

Your 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,
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, Alonzo,
They have bereft; and do pronounce, by me,
Lingering perdition (worse than any death
Can be at once), shall, step by step, attend

You and your ways; whose wraths to guard you from
(Which here, in this most desolate isle, else falls
Upon your heads), is nothing but heart's sorrow,
And a clear life ensuing.

He vanishes in thunder: then, to soft music, enter the Shapes again, and dance with mops and mores, and carry out the table.

Pro. [Aside.] Bravely the figure of this harpy hast

thou

Perform'd, my Ariel; a grace it had, devouring:
Of my instruction hast thou nothing 'bated,
In what thou had'st to say: so, with good life,
And observation strange, my meaner ministers
Their several kinds have done: my high charms work,

And these, mine enemies, are all knit up

In their distractions: they now are in my power;
And in these fits I leave them, whilst I visit
Young Ferdinand, (whom they suppose is drown'd)
And his and my lov'd darling.

[Exit PROSPERO from above. Gon. I' the name of something holy, Sir, why stand

you

In this strange stare?

Alon. Oh! 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, pronounc'd The name of Prosper; it did bass my trespass. Therefore, my son i' the ooze is bedded; and I'll seek him deeper than e'er plummet sounded, And with him there lie mudded.

Seb.

I'll fight their legions o'er. Ant.

[Exit. But one fiend at a time,

I'll be thy second.

Exeunt SEB. and ANT.

Gon. 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 ecstacy May now provoke them to. Adr.

Follow, I pray you. [Exeunt.
ACT IV.

SCENE I.-Before PROSPERO's cell.
Enter PROSPERO, FERDINAND, and MIRANDA.
Pro. If I have too austerely punish'd you,
Your compensation makes amends; for I
Have given you here a thread of my own life,
Or that for which I liye; whom 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 Heaven,

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.

Pro. 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 grow; but barren hate,
Sour-ey'd disdain, and discord, shall bestrew
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.
Fer.
As I hope

For quiet days, fair issue, and long life,
With such love as 'tis 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, Or night kept chain'd below.