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THE TEMPEST.

LITERARY AND HISTORICAL NOTICE.

THE supernatural agency which forms so leading a feature in this fanciful play, is built (according to Mr. 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. It was one of Shakspeare's latest productions, and probably founded on some Italian novel. Warburton considers it "one 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 ootained 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 men, saved as it were by miracle from death, should immediately plot the destruction of their companions, to obtain dominions which there was no probability of their over re-visiting, is a suggestion at variance with nature, and inconsistent with the spirit of the piece. Johnson says of The Tempest---“In a single 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."

ALONSO, King of Naples.

PROSPERO, the rightful Duke of Milan.

Milan.

SEBASTIAN, his Brother.

ANTONIO, his Brother, the usurping Duke of ARIEL, an Airy Spirit.

DRAMATIS PERSONE.

Master of a Ship, Boatswain, and Mariners.
MIRANDA, Daughter to Prospero.

IRIS,

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FERDINAND, Son to the King of Naples.
GONZALO, an honest old Counsellor of Naples.
ADRIAN,

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CALIBAN, a savage and deformed Slave.

TRINCULO, a Jester.

STEPHANO, a drunken Butler.

Other Spirits attending on PROSPERO.

SCENE-The Sea with a ship: afterwards an uninhabited Island.

ACT I.

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storm.

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 thou hast aboard.

Boats. None that I more love than myself. You are a counsellor; if you can command these elements to silence, and work the peace of the present, we will not hand a rope more use your authority. If you cannot, give thanks you have lived so long, and make yourself ready in your cabin for the mischance of the bour, if it so bap,-Cheerly, good hearts.-Out of our way, I say. [Exit. Gon. I have great comfort from this fellow : methinks, he hath no drowning mark upon him; his complexion is perfect gallows. Stand fast

good fate, to his hanging! make the rope of his | No more amazement: tell your piteous heart, destiny our cable, for our own doth little advan- There's no harm done. tage! If he be not born to be hanged, our case is miserable.

Re-enter BOATSWAIN.

[Exeunt.

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might'st lie drowning,

The washing of ten tides !

Gon. He'll be hanged yet;
Though every drop of water swear against it,
And gape at wid'st to glut him.

thou

[A confused noise within.] Mercy on us. We split, we split! Farewell, my wife and children -Farewell, brother!We split, we split, we split.

Ant. Let's all sink with the king. [Erit. Seb. Let's take leave of him. (Exit. 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.

[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,

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

Have sunk the sea within the earth, or e'er t
It should the good ship so have swallowed,
and

The freighting souls within her.
Pro. Be collected;

Mira. O woe the day!
Pro. No harm.

I have done nothing but in care of thee,
(Of thee, my, dear one! thee, my daughter I).
who

Art ignorant of what thou art, nought know.
ing

Of whence I am; nor that I am more better
Than Prospero, master of a full poor cell,
And the no greater father.

Mira. More to know

Did never meddle with my thoughts.
Pro. 'Tis time

I should inform thee further. Lend thy hand,
And pluck my magic garment from me.-80;
[Lays down his mantle.
Lie there my art.-Wipe thou tnine eyes; have
comfort.
spectacle of the wreck, which

The

direful
touch'd

The very virtue of compassion in thee
I have with such provision in mine art
So safely order'd, that there is no soul-
No, not so much perdition as an hair,
Betid to any creature in the vessel,
Which thou beard'st cry, which thou saw'st
sink. Sit down;

For thou must now know further.
Mira. You have often

Begun to tell me what I am; but stopp'd
And left me to a bootless inquisition;
Concluding, Stay, not yet.-

Pro. The hour's now come;
The very minute bids thee ope thine ear;
Obey, and be attentive. Can'st thou remem.

ber

A time before we came unto this cell?

I do not think thou can'st; for then thou wast

not
Out three years old.

Mira. Certainly, Sir, I can.

Pro. By what? by any other house, or per-
son ?

Of any thing the image tell me, that
Hath kept with thy remembrance.
Mira. 'Tis far off:

And rather like a dream than an assurance
That my remembrance warrants: Had I not
Four or five women once, that tended me ?
Pro. Thou had'st, and more, Miranda: But
how is it,
That this lives in thy mind? What seest thou

else

In the dark backward and abysm + of time?
If thou remember'st aught, ere thou cam'st

bere

How thou cam'st here thou may'st.
Mira. But that I do not.

Pro. Twelve years since, Miranda, twelve
Tky father was the duke of Milan, and
years since,

A prince of power.

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 his only heir
A princess; no worse issued.
Mira. O the heavens !

What foul play bad we, that we
thence?

Or blessed was't we did?

Pro. Both, both, my girl:

came from

By foul play, as thou say'st, were we heav'd thence;

But blessedly holp hither.

Mira. O my heart bleeds

To think o' the teen that I have turn'd you to,

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Which is from my remembrance! Please you | Of homage, and I know not how much tri

further.

Pro. My brother, and thy uncle, call'd tonio,

I pray thee mark me,-that a brother should Be so perfidious -he whom, next thyself, Of all the world I lov'd, and to him put The manage of my state; as, at that time, Through all the signiories it was the first,

bute,

An- Should presently extirpate me and mine
Out of the dukedom; and confer fair Milan,
With all the honours, on my brother: Whereon,
A treacherous army levied, one midnight
Fated to the purpose, did Antonio open

The gates of Milan; and, i' the dead of dark-
ness,

And Prospero the prime duke; being so re- The ministers for the purpose hurried thence

puted

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one,

Who, having, unto truth, by telling of it,
Made such a sinner of his memory,
To credit his own lie,-he did believe
He was the duke; out of the substitution,
And executing the outward face of royalty,
With all prerogative;-Hence his ambition
Growing, Dost hear?

Mira. Your tale, Sir, would cure deafness. Pro. To have no screen between this part he play'd

And him he play'd it for, needs be will be Absolute Milan: Me, poor man-my library Was dukedom large enough; of temporal royalties

He thinks me now incapable: confederates
(So dry he was for sway) with the king of
Naples,

To give him annual tribute, do him homage;
Subject his coronet to his crown, and bend
The dukedom, yet unbow'd, (alas, poor Milan !)
To most ignoble stooping.

Mira. O the heavens !

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Me and thy crying self.

Mira, Alack, for pity!

1, not rememb'ring how I cried out then, Will cry it o'er again; it is a hint, • That wrings mine eyes.

Pro. Hear a little further,

And then I'll bring thee to the present busi

ness

Which now's upon us; without the which, this story

Were most impertinent.

Mira. Wherefore did they not That hour destroy us?

Pro. Well demanded, wench;

My tale provokes that question. Dear, they durst not;

(So dear the love my people bore me) nor set
A mark so bloody on the business; but
With colours fairer painted their foul ends.
In few, they hurried us aboard a bark ;
Bore us some leagues to sea; where they pre-
pared

A rotten carcass of a boat, not rigg'd,
Nor tackle, sail, nor mast; the very rats
Instinctively had quit it: there they hoist us,
To cry to the sea that roar'd to us; to sigh
To the winds, whose pity sighing back again,
Did us but loving wrong.

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;

Under my burden groan'd; which raised in

me

An undergoing stomach, to bear up
Against what should ensue.

Mira. How came we ashore?
Pro. By Providence divine,

Some food we had, and some fresh water, that
A noble Neapolitan Gonzalo,

Out of his charity, (who being then appointed
Master of this design,) did give us; with
Rich garments, linens, stuffs, and necessaries,
Which since have steaded much; so of his gen

tleness,

Knowing I lov'd my books, he furnish'd me,
From my own library, with volumes that
I prize above my dukedom.
Mira. 'Would I might
But ever see that man!

Pro. Now I arise:

Sit still, and hear the last of our sea sorrow,
Here in this island we arriv'd; and here
Have I, thy schoolmaster, made thee inore
profit

Than otlier princes can, that have more time
For vainer hours, and tutors not so careful.
Mira. Heavens thank you for't! And now,

pray you, Sir,

(For still 'tis beating in my mind,) your reasou For raising this sea-storm?

Pro. Know thus far forth.

By accident most strange, bountiful fortune,
(Now my dear lady) hath mine enemies
Brought to this shore: and by my prescience
I find my zenith doth depend upon

A most auspicious star; whose influence
If now I court not, but omit, my fortunes

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