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To ease the anguish of a torturing hour?
A MIDSUMMER NIGHT'S DREAM.
Philost. Here, mighty Theseus.
have you for this
What mask? what music? How shall we be-
The lazy time, if not with some delight?
I read as much, as from the rattling tongue
By an Athenian eunuch to the harp.
The riot of the tipsy Bacchanals,
of learning, late deceas'd in beggary. That is some satire, keen, and critical, Not sorting with a nuptial ceremony.
A tedious brief scene of young Pyramus,
Which is as brief as I have known a play;
The. What are they, that do play it?
Which never laboured in their minds till now;
With this same play, against your nuptial.
• Short account.
Philost. So please your grace the prologue is
The. Let him approach.
Prol. If we offend, it is with our good
That is the true beginning of our end.
[Flourish of Trumpets.
We do not come as minding to content you,
The actors are at hand; and, by their show,
The. This fellow doth not stand upon points. Lys. He hath rid his prologue, like a rough colt, he knows not the stop. A good moral, my lord: It is not enough to speak, but to speak true.
Philost. No, my noble lord,
It is not for you: I have heard it over,
The. I will hear that play;
bring them in and take your places,"
The. Why, gentle sweet, you shall see
To show our simple
Hip. Indeed he hath played on this prologue, like a child on a recorder; a sound, but not in government.
The. His speech was like a tangled chain; Who is nothing impaired, but all disordered.
Enter PYRAMUS and THISBE, WALL, MOON-
"But wonder on, till truth make all things
"This man is Pyramus, if you would know;
The. The kinder we, to give them thanks for
"Wall, that vile wall which did these lovers sunder; "And through wall's chink, poor souls they are
"To whisper; at the which let no man won
"This man, with lantern, dog, and bush of
By moonshine did these lovers think no scorn
"This grisly beast, which by name lion bight, "The trusty Thisby, coming first by night, no" Did scare away, or rather did affright: "And, as she fled, her mantle she did fall; "Which lion vile with bloody mouth did
Anon comes Pyramus, sweet youth, and fall, "And finds bis trusty Thisby's mantle slain : "Whereat with blade, with bloody blameful blade, "He bravely broach'd his boiling bloody breast;
"And, Thisby tarrying in mulberry shade
+ A musical instrument.
For all the
LITERARY AND HISTORICAL NOTICE.
THE supernatural agency which forms so leading a feature in this fanciful play, is built according to Mr. It was one of Warton) on the peculiar tenets of the Rosicrucian philosophy; the name of Ariel being derived from the Talmudistic mysteries with which the more learned Jews connected that science. Shakspeare's latest productions, and probably founded on some Italian novel. Warburton considers it "Jue of the noblest efforts of his sublime and amazing imagination:" a negative species of praise, since the pleasure which it creates arises from a boundless diversity of invention, from a continued succession of supernatural occurrences, devoid of application and destitute of moral, because the end is outained by means beyond the ordinary compass of belief. In representation it is greatly dependent on the scenery and mechanism. The language, however, is throughout most forcible, and much of the sentiment chaste and magnificent. Caliban is an original creation; whimsical, monstrous, and impressive: but that meu, a suggestion at variance saved as it were by miracle from death, should immediately plot the destruction of their companions, to no probability of their aver re-visiting, is Johnson says of The Tempest---"In a single obtain dominions which there was with nature, and inconsistent with the spirit of the piece. drama are here exhibited princes, courtiers, and sailors, all speaking in their real characters. There is the agency of airy spirits, and of an earthly goblin. The operations of magic, the tumults of a storm, the adventures of a desert island, the native effusion of untaught affection, the punishment of guilt, and the final happiness of the pair for whom our passions and reason are equally interested."
King of Naples.
PROSPERO, the rightful Duke of Milan.
FERDINAND, Son to the King of Naples.
Master of a Ship, Boatswain, and Mariners.
CALIBAN, a savage and deformed Slave.
TRINCULO, a Jester.
STEPHANO, a drunken Butler.
Other Spirits attending on PROSPERO.
SCENE 1.-On a Ship at Sea.
A Storm, with Thunder and Lightning.
Boats. Here, master: what cheer?
SCENE-The Sea with a ship: afterwards an uninhabited Island.
Boats. I pray now, keep below.
Ant. Where is the master, boatswain ? Boats. Do you not hear him? labour keep your cabin; you do assist the
You mar our
Boats. Heigh, my bearts; cheerly, cheerly, y bearts; yare, yare: Take in the top-sail; Tend to the master's whistle.-Blow, till thou Arst thy wind, if room enough!
Gon. Nay, good, be patient.
Boats. When the sea is. Hence! What care these roarers for the name of king? To cabin: silence: trouble us not.
Gon. Good; yet remember whom thon hast aboard.
Boats. None that I more love than myself. You are a counsellor; if you can comunand these elements to silence, and work the peace of the present, we will not band a rope more : use have lived so long, and make yourself ready in your authority. If you cannot, give thanks you your cabin for the mischance of the hour, if it [Exit. Eater ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, FERDI- so hap,-Cheerly, good hearts.-Out of our way, Gon. I have great comfort from this fellow : metbirks, he bath no drowning mark upon bin; his complexion is perfect gallows. Stand fast,
NAND, GONZALO, and others. Alon. Good boatswain, have care. the master? Play the men. +
+ Act like men.
Enter MARINERS, wet.
Mar. All lost! to prayers, to prayers! all lost! [Exeunt.
Boats. What, must our mouths be cold? Gon. The king and prince at prayers! let us assist them,
For our case is as their's.
Seb. I am out of patience.
Ant. We are merely cheated of our lives by drunkards.wide-chapped
Gon. He'll be hanged yet;
[A confused noise within.] Mercy on us. We split, we split! Farewell, my wife and children!-Fareweli, brother!We split, we split, we split.
Ant. Let's all sink with the king. Seb. Let's take leave of him. Gon. Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea, 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.
Boats. Work you, then.
Ant. Hang, cur, hang! you whoreson, inso-The lent noise-maker, we are less afraid to be drowned than thou art.
No more amazement: tell your piteous heart,
I have done nothing but in care of thee,
Art ignorant of what thou art, nought knowing
Of whence I am; nor that I am more better
Did never meddle with my thoughts.
I should inform thee further. Lend thy band,
[Exit. SCENE II.-The Island: before the Cell of PROSPERO.
Enter PROSPERO and MIRANDA.
Mira. If by your art, my dearest father, you have
Put the wild waters in this roar, allay them: The sky, it seems, would pour down stinking pitch,
But that the sea, mounting to the welkin's cheek, Dashes the fire out. Oh! I have suffer'd With those that I saw suffer! a brave vessel, Who had no doubt some noble creatures in her,
direful spectacle of the wreck, which
The very virtue of compassion in thee
For thou must now know further.
Dash'd all to pieces, Oh! the cry did knock Against my very heart! Poor souls they perish'd.
Had I been any god of power, I would
Begun to tell me what I am; but stopp'd
Pro. The hour's now come;
The very minute bids thee ope thine ear;
A time before we came unto this cell?
I do not think thou can'st; for then thon wast
Out three years old.
Mira. Certainly, Sir, I can.
Pro. By what? by any other house, or per
Of any thing the image tell me, that Hath kept with tby remembrance. Mira. 'Tis far off:
And rather like a dream than an assurance
That this lives in thy mind? What seest then else
In the dark backward and abysm + of time!
Pro. Twelve years since, Miranda, twelve years since,
Thy father was the duke of Milan, and
Mira. Sir, are not you my father?
Pro. Thy mother was, a piece of virtue, and She said thou wast my daughter; and thy father
Was duke of Milan; and bis only heir
What foul play bad we, that we came from thence?
Which is from my remembrance! Please you | Of homage, and I know not how much trifarther.
Pro. My brother, and thy uncle, call'd An-
I pray thee mark me,-that a brother should
Me and thy crying self.
In dignity, and, for the liberal arts,
And wrapt in secret studies. Thy false uncle-
Out of the dukedom; and confer fair Milan,
Fated to the purpose, did Antonio open
The gates of Milan; and, i' the dead of dark
trans-That wrings mine eyes.
Mira. Sir, most heedfully.
Pro. Being once perfected how to grant
How to deny them; whom to advance, and
To trash for over-topping: new created
Of officer and office, set all hearts
To closeness, and the bettering of my mind
Mira, Alack, for pity!
1, not rememb'ring how I cried out then,
I pray thee, mark me.
Mira. O good Sir, I do.
Pro. Hear a little further,
And then I'll bring thee to the present busi
Which now's upon us; without the which, this
Were most impertinent.
Mira. Wherefore did they not
That hour destroy us?
Pro. Well demanded, wench;
My tale provokes that question. Dear, they
Awak'd an evil nature and my trust,
As my trust was which had, indeed, no limit,
A mark so bloody on the business; but
Not only with what my revenue yielded,
A rotten carcass of a boat, not rigg'd,
Mira. Your tale, Sir, would cure deafness.
And him he play'd it for, needs he will be
He thinks me now incapable: confederates
Mira. Alack! what trouble
Was I then to you!
Pro. Oh! a cherubim
Thou wast, that did preserve me! Thou didst smile,
Infused with a fortitude from heaven,
When I have deck'd the sea with drops full salt;
my burden groan'd; which raised in
Against what should ensue.
Mira. How came we ashore?
To give him annual tribute, do him homage;
Mira. O the heavens !
Pro. Mark his condition, and the event; then
If this might be a brother.
Mira. I should sin
To thius but nobly of my grandmother;
Pro. By Providence divine.
Some food we had, and some fresh water, that
Out of his charity, (who being then appointed
Pro. Now the condition.
• Cut away.
Knowing I lov'd my books, he furnish'd me,
Pro. Now I arise:
Here in this island we arriv'd; and here
For vainer hours, and tutors not so careful.
(For still 'tis beating in my mind,) your reason
Pro. Know thus far forth.
By accident most strange, bountiful fortune,