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These happened accidents: till when, be cheerful,
And think of each thing well.-Come hither, spirit;

Set Caliban and his companions free :

[Aside.

Untie the spell. [Exit ARIEL.] How fares my gracious sir?

There are yet missing of your company

Some few odd lads that you remember not.

Re-enter ARIEL, driving in CALIBAN, STEPHANO, and
TRINCULO, in their stolen apparel.

Ste. Every man shift for all the rest,' and let no man take care for himself; for all is but fortune:-Coragio, bully-monster, coragio!

Trin. If these be true spies which I wear in my head, here's a goodly sight.

Cal. O Setebos, these be brave spirits, indeed! How fine my master is! I am afraid

[blocks in formation]

What things are these, my lord Antonio?
Will money buy them?

Ant. Very like; one of them

Is a plain fish, and, no doubt, marketable.

Pro. Mark but the badges 2 of these men, my lords,
Then say, if they be true-This misshapen knave-
His mother was a witch, and one so strong⚫

That could control the moon, make flows and ebbs,
And deal in her command without her power: 3
These three have robbed me; and this demi-devil
(For he 's a bastard one) had plotted with them

1 For all the rest.] Stephano in his blundering drunkenness says for all the rest instead of for himself, and vice versa.

2 The badges.] The stolen apparel they had on.

3 Deal in her command, &c.] Use her kind of influence beyond the degree in which she herself could exert it.

To take my life. Two of these fellows you
Must know and own; this thing of darkness I
Acknowledge mine.

Cal.

I shall be pinched to death.

Alon. Is not this Stephano, my drunken butler?
Seb. He is drunk now: where had he wine?

Alon. And Trinculo is reeling ripe. Where should they Find this grand liquor 1 that hath gilded them?

1

How cam'st thou in this pickle ?

Trin. I have been in such a pickle, since I saw you last, that, I fear me, will never out of my bones: I shall not fear fly-blowing.

Seb. Why, how now, Stephano !

Ste. O touch me not; I am not Stephano, but a cramp.

Pro. You'd be king of the isle, sirrah?

Ste. I should have been a sore one, then.

Alon. This is a strange thing as e'er I looked on.

[Pointing to CAliban.

Pro. He is as disproportioned in his manners

As in his shape.-Go, sirrah, to my cell;
Take with you your companions; as you look
To have my pardon, trim it handsomely.

Cal. Ay, that I will; and I'll be wise hereafter.
And seek for grace.
What a thrice-double ass

Was I, to take this drunkard for a god,

And worship this dull fool!

Pro.

Go to; away!

Alon. Hence, and bestow your luggage where you found it.

This grand liquor, &c.] An allusion to the grand elixir or potable gold of the alchymists, which they pretended would restore youth and confer immortality. Sack was sometimes called the grand liquor or elixir: in Fletcher's Chances, iv. 3, we find a drunken female described in these words: A little gilded o'er, sir; old sack, old sack, boys!'

Seb. Or stole it, rather. [Exeunt CAL., STE., and TRIN.
Pro. Sir, I invite your highness and your train
To my poor cell, where you shall take your rest
For this one night; which (part of it) I'll waste
With such discourse as, I not doubt, shall make it
Go quick away-the story of my life,

And the particular accidents gone by,
Since I came to this isle: and in the morn

I'll bring you to your ship, and so to Naples,
Where I have hope to see the nuptial
Of these our dear-beloved solemnized;
And thence retire me to my Milan, where.
Every third thought shall be my grave.

Alon.

To hear the story of your life, which must
Take the ear strangely.

Pro.

I long

I'll deliver all;
And promise you calm seas, auspicious gales,
And sail so expeditious, that shall catch
Your royal fleet far off.-My Ariel,-chick,—

[Aside.

That is thy charge; then to the elements

Be free, and fare thou well!-Please you, draw near.

[Exeunt.

93

EPILOGUE.

SPOKEN BY PROSPERO.

Now my charms are all o'erthrown,
And what strength I have's mine own-
Which is most faint: now,
't is true,
I must be here confined by you,
Or sent to Naples. Let me not,
Since I have my dukedom got,
And pardoned the deceiver, dwell
In this bare island by your spell;
But release me from my bands
With the help of your good hands.
Gentle breath of yours my sails
Must fill, or else my project fails—
Which was, to please. Now I want
Spirits to enforce, art to enchant;
And my ending is despair,
Unless I be relieved by prayer,
Which pierces so, that it assaults

Mercy itself, and frees all faults.

As you from crimes would pardoned be,

Let your indulgence set me free!

[Exit.

LONDON: PRINTED BY

SPOTTISWOODE AND CO., NEW-STREET SQUARE AND PARLIAMENT STREET

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