Enter JUNO.

Jun. How does my bounteous sister? Go with me, To bless this twain, that they may prosperous be, And honour'd in their issue.

SONG.

Jun. Honour, riches, marriage-blessing,
Long continuance, and increasing,
Hourly joys be still upon you!
Juno sings her blessings on you.
Cer. Earth's increase, and foison plenty,'
Barns, and garners never empty;
Vines, with clust'ring bunches growing;
Plants, with goodly burden bowing;
Spring come to you, at the farthest,
In the very end of harvest!

Scarcity, and want, shall shun you;
Ceres blessing so is on you.

Fer. This is a most majestic vision, and
Harmonious charmingly: May I be bold
To think these spirits?

Pro.

I have from their confines call'd to enact

My present fancies.

Fer.

Spirits, which by mine art

Let me live here ever;

So rare a wonder'd father2, and a wife,

Make this place paradise.

Pro.

[JUNO and CERES whisper, and send IRIS on employment.

Sweet now, silence;

Earth's increase, and foison plenty, &c.] Earth's increase, is the produce of the earth: · foison, plenty, i. e. plenty to the utmost abundance; foison signifying plenty.

2

a wonder'd father,] i. e. able to perform wonders.

Juno and Ceres whisper seriously;

There's something else to do: hush, and be mute,
Or else our spell is marr'd.

Iris. You nymphs, call'd Naiads, of the wand'ring brooks, 3

With your sedg'd crowns, and ever-harmless looks,
Leave your crisp channels, and on this
green land
Answer your summons: Juno does command:
Come, temperate nymphs, and help to celebrate
A contract of true love; be not too late.

Enter certain Nymphs.

You sun-burn'd sicklemen, of August weary,
Come hither from the furrow, and be merry;
Make holy-day: your rye-straw hats put on,
And these fresh nymphs encounter every one
In country footing.

Enter certain Reapers, properly habited; they join with the Nymphs in a graceful dance; towards the end whereof PROSPERO starts suddenly, and speaks; after which, to a strange, hollow, and confused noise, they heavily vanish.

Pro. [aside.] I had forgot that foul conspiracy
Of the beast Caliban, and his confederates,

Against my life; the minute of their plot
Is almost come. [to the Spirits.]

Well done;

wand'ring brooks,] The modern editors read- winding brooks. The old copy-windring. STEEVENS.

4 Leave your crisp channels,] Crisp, i. e. curling, winding. Crisp, however, may allude to the little wave or curl (as it is commonly called) that the gentlest wind ocsasions on the surface of waters.

STEEVENS

Fer. This is most strange 3: your father's in some

passion

That works him strongly.

Mira.
Never till this day,
Saw I him touch'd with anger so distemper'd.
Pro. You do look, my son, in a mov'd sort,
As if you were dismay'd: be cheerful, sir:
Our revels now are ended: these our actors,
As I foretold you, were all spirits, and
Are melted into air, into thin air:
And, like the baseless fabrick of this vision,
The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yea, all which it inherit 4, shall dissolve;
And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,3
Leave not a rack behind 6: We are such stuff

3 This is most strange :] Malone reads: "This is strange :" I have introduced the word—most, on account of the metre, which otherwise is defective. In the first line of Prospero's next speech there is likewise an omission, but I have not ventured to supply it. STEEVENS.

4 all which it inherit,] i. e. all who possess, who dwell upon it. MALONE.

5 And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,] Faded means herehaving vanished; from the Latin, vado. To feel the justice of this comparison, and the propriety of the epithet, the nature of these exhibitions should be remembered. The ancient English pageants were shows exhibited on the reception of a prince, or any other solemnity of a similar kind. They were presented on occasional stages erected in the streets. Originally they appear to have been nothing more than dumb shows; but before the time of our author, they had been enlivened by the introduction of speaking personages, who were characteristically habited. The speeches were sometimes in verse; and as the procession moved forward, the speakers, who constantly bore some allusion to the ceremony, either conversed together in the form of a dialogue, or addressed the noble person whose presence occasioned the celebrity. On these allegorical spectacles very costly ornaments were bestowed.

• Leave not a rack behind :] "The winds (says lord Bacon) which move the clouds above, which we call the rack, and are not perceived below, pass without noise." Mr. Steevens would explain the

As dreams are made of, and our little life

Is rounded with a sleep. Sir, I am vex'd;

Bear with my weakness; my old brain is troubled.
Be not disturb'd with my infirmity :

If you be pleas'd, retire into my cell,

And there repose; a turn or two I'll walk,

To still my beating mind.

Fer. Mira.

We wish your peace.

[Exeunt.

Ari. Thy thoughts I cleave to7: what's thy pleasure?

Pro.

Spirit,

We must prepare to meet with Caliban.

8

Ari. Ay, my commander; when I presented Ceres, I thought to have told thee of it; but I fear'd,

Lest I might anger thee.

Pro. Say again, where didst thou leave these varlets? Ari. I told you, sir, they were red-hot with drinking:

re

word rack somewhat differently, by calling it the last fleeting vestige of the highest clouds, scarce perceptible on account of their distance and tenuity. What was anciently called the rack, is now termed by sailors the scud. The word is common to many authors contemporary with Shakspeare. But sir Thomas Hanmer reads tract, for which there are some authorities; and Mr. Malone wrack, a mispelling for wreck; and after producing authorities, says, it has been urged, that objects which have only a visionary and insubstantial existence, can, when the vision is faded, leave nothing real, and consequently no wreck behind them." But the objection is founded on misapprehension. The words "Leave not a rack (or wreck) behind," relate not to "the baseless fabrick of this vision," but to the final destruction of the world, of which the towers, temples, and palaces, shall (like a vision, or a pageant,) be dissolved, and leave no vestige behind.

7 Thy thoughts I cleave to:] To cleave to, is to unite with closely. 8 to meet with Caliban.] To meet with, is to counteract; to play stratagem against stratagem.

So full of valour, that they smote the air
For breathing in their faces; beat the ground
For kissing of their feet; yet always bending
Towards their project: Then I beat my tabor,
At which, like unback'd colts, they prick'd their ears,
Advanc'd their eyelids, lifted up their noses,

As they smelt musick; so I charm'd their ears,
That, calf-like, they my lowing follow'd, through
Tooth'd briers, sharp furzes, pricking goss 9, and thorns,
Which enter'd their frail shins: at last I left them
I'the filthy mantled pool beyond your cell,

There dancing up to the chins, that the foul lake
O'erstunk their feet.

Pro.

This was well done, my bird;

Thy shape invisible retain thou still :

The trumpery in my house, go, bring it hither,
For stale to catch these thieves.1

I go, I go. [Exit.

Ari.
Pro. A devil, a born devil, on whose nature
Nurture can never stick 2; on whom my pains,
Humanely taken, all, all lost 3, quite lost :
And as, with age, his body uglier grows,

So his mind cankers: I will plague them all,

9-pricking goss,] I know not how Shakspeare distinguished goss from furze; for what he calls furze is called goss or gorse in the midland counties. STEEVENS.

By the latter, Shakspeare means the low sort of gorse that only grows upon wet ground, and which is well described by the name of whins in Markham's Farewell to Husbandry. It has prickles like those of a rose-tree or a gooseberry. TOLLET.

1 For stale to catch these thieves.] Stale is a word in fowling, and is used to mean a bait or decoy to catch birds. STEEVENS.

3

2 Nurture can never stick;] Nurture is education.

all, all lost,] The first of these words was probably introduced by the carelessness of the transcriber or compositor. We might safely read - are all lost.. MALONE.

4 And as, with age, his body uglier grows,

So his mind cankers:] Shakspeare, when he wrote this description, perhaps recollected what his patron's most intimate friend, the great lord Essex, in an hour of discontent, said of queen Elizabeth =