網頁圖片
PDF
ePub 版
[blocks in formation]

Bat, certainly a maid. Fer.

No wonder, sir;

How! the best?

My language! heavens!I am the best of them that speak this speech, Were I but where 'tis spoken. Pro. What wert thon, if the king of Naples heard thee? Fer. A single thing, as I am now, that wonders To hear thee speak of Naples. He does hear me ; And, that he does, I weep: myself am Naples; Who with mine eyes, ne'er since at ebb, beheld The king my father wreck'd. Mira. Alack, for mercy! Fer. Yes, faith, and all his lords; the duke of Milan And his brave son, being twain.

Pro. The duke of Milan, And his more braver daughter, could control thee If now'twere fit to do't:-At the first sight (Aside.) They have chang'd eyes:-Delicate Ariel, I set thee free for this!-A word, good sir; I fear you have done yourself some wrong: A word. Mira. Why speaks my father so ungently? This Is the third man that e'er I saw; the first That e'er I sigh'd for: pity move my father To be inclin'd my way! Fer. O, if a virgin, And your affection not gone forth, I'll make you The queen of Naples.

Pro.

Soft, sir; one word more.They are both in either's powers; but this swift business

I most uneasy make, lest too light winning (Aside.) Make the prize light.-One word more; I charge

thee,

That thou attend me: thou dost here usurp
The name thou ow'st not; and hast put thyself
Upon this island, as a spy, to win it

From me, the lord on't.

Fer.

No, as I am a man.

Mir. There's nothing ill can dwell in such a temple: If the ill spirit have so fair an house, Good things will strive to dwell with't. Pro.

Follow me.-(To Ferd.)

Speak not you for him; he's a traitor.-Come.
I manacle thy neck and feet together:
Seawater shalt thou drink, thy food shall be

The fresh-brook muscles, wither'd roots, and husks
Wherein the acorn cradled. Follow.

Fer.

I will resist such entertainment, till

And make thy weapon drop.
Mira.

Beseech you, father!
Pro. Hence! hang not on my garments.
Mira.
I'll be his surety.

Sir, have pity;

Silence! one word more

Pro.
Shall make me chide thee, if not hate thee. What!
An advocate for an impostor? hush!

Thou think'st, there are no more such shapes as he
Having seen but him and Caliban: Foolish wench
To the most of men this is a Caliban,
And they to him are angels.
Mira.

My affections
Are then most humble; I have no ambition
To see a goodlier man.
Pro.

Come on; obey: (To Ferd.)
Thy nerves are in their infancy again,
And have no vigour in them.

[blocks in formation]

SCENE 1.-Another part of the Island. Enter ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, GONZALO, ADRIAN, FRANCISCO, and others.

Gon. Beseech you, sir, be merry: you have cause
(So have we all) of joy; for our escape
Is much beyond our loss. Our hint of woe
Is common; every day, some sailor's wife,
The masters of some merchant, and the merchant,
Have just our theme of woe: but for the miracle,
I mean our preservation, few in millions
Can speak like us: then wisely, good sir, weigh
Our sorrow with our comfort.

Alon.
Pr'ythee, peace.
Seb. He receives comfort like cold porridge.
Ant. The visitor will not give him o'er so.

Seb. Look, he's winding up the watch of his wit; by and by it will strike.

[blocks in formation]

No;

(He draws.)

Ant. Fy, what a spendthrift is he of his tongue! Alon. I pr'ythee, spare.

Seb. You have taken it wiselier than I meant you Gon. Therefore, my lord,

O,

dear father,

What, I say,

Mine

enemy Mira.

has more power.

Make not too rash a trial of him, for

He's gentle, and not fearful.

Pro.

My foot my tutor! Put thy sword

[blocks in formation]

Who mak'st a shew, but dar'st not strike, thy con

[blocks in formation]

Gon. Well, I have done: But yet

Seb. He will be talking.

Ant. Which of them, he, or Adrian, for a good wager, first begins to crow?

Seb. The old cock.

Ant. The cockrel.
Seb. Done: The wager?
Ant. A laughter.

Seb. A match.

[blocks in formation]

Ant. He could not miss it.

Adr. It must needs be of subtle, tender, and delicate temperance.

Ant. Temperance was a delicate wench. [livered.
Seb. Ay, and a subtle; as he most learnedly de-
Adr. The air breathes upon us here most sweetly.
Seb. As if it had lungs, and rotten ones.
Ant. Or, as 'twere perfumed by a fen.
Gon. Here is every thing advantageous to life.
Ant. True; save means to live.
Seb. Of that there's none, or little.
Gon. How lush and lusty the grass looks! how
Ant. The ground, indeed, is tawny.
Seb. With an eye of green in't.

Ant. He misses not much.

[green!

Seb. No; he doth but mistake the truth totally. Gon. But the rarity of it is (which is indeed almost beyond credit),—

Seb. As many vouch'd rarities are.

Gon. That our garments being, as they were, drenched in the sea, hold, notwithstanding, their freshness, and glosses; being rather new dy'd, than stain'd with salt water.

Ant. If but one of his pockets could speak, would it not say, he lies?

Seb. Ay, or very falsely pocket up his report. Gon. Methinks, our garments are now as fresh as when we put them on first in Afric, at the marriage of the king's fair daughter, Claribel, to the king of Tunis.

Seb. "Twas a sweet marriage, and we prosper well in our return.

Adr. Tanis was never graced before with such a paragon to their queen.

Gon. Not since widow Dido's time. Ant. Widow? a pox o' that! How came that widow in? Widow Dido!

Seb. What if he had said, widower Æneas too? good lord, how you take it!

Adr. Widow Dido, said you? you make me study of that: She was of Carthage, not of Tunis. Gon. This Tunis, sir, was Carthage. Adr. Carthage?

Gon. I assure you, Carthage.

Ant. His word is more than the miraculous harp. Seb. He hath rais'd the wall, and houses too. Ant. What impossible matter will he make easy next?

Seb. I think he will carry this island home in his pocket, and give it his son for an apple. Ant. And, sowing the kernels of it in the sea, bring forth more islands.

Gon. Ay?

Ant. Why, in good time

[blocks in formation]

Pr'ythee, peace.

Seb. You were kneel'd to, and importan'd other By all of us; and the fair soul herself [wise Weigh'd, between lothness and obedience, at Which end o' the beam she'd bow. We have lost I fear, for ever: Milan and Naples have [your son, More widows in them of this business' making, Than we bring men to comfort them: the fault's Your own.

Alon. So is the dearest of the loss.

Gon. My lord Sebastian, The truth you speak doth lack some gentleness, And time to speak it in; you rub the sore, When you should bring the plaster. Seb.

Very well.

Ant. And most chirurgeonly. Gon. It is foul weather in us all, good sir, When you are cloudy.

Seb.

Ant.

Foul weather?

Very foul Gon. Had I plantation of this isle, my lord,Ant. He'd sow it with nettle-seed.

Seb. Or docks, or mallows. Gon. And were the king of it, What would I do Seb. 'Scape being drunk, for want of wine. Gon. I' the commonwealth, I would by contraries Execute all things: for no kind of traffic Would I admit; no name of magistrate; Letters should not be known; no use of service, Of riches, or of poverty; no contracts, Successions; bound of land, tilth, vineyard, none: No use of metal, corn, or wine, or oil: No occupation; all men idle, all; And women too; but innocent and pure: No sovereignty: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.

Gon. Sir, we were talking, that our garments seem now as fresh, as when we were at Tunis at the mar-To riage of your daughter, who is now queen.

Ant. And the rarest that e'er came there.
Seb. 'Bate, I beseech you, widow Dido.
Ant. O, widow Dido; ay, widow Dido.
Gon. Is not, sir, my doublet as fresh as the first
day I wore it? I mean, in a sort.

Ant. That sort was well fish'd for.

Gon. When I wore it at your daughter's marriage?
Alon. You cram these words into mine ears, against
The stomach of my sense. Would I had never
Married my daughter there! for, coming thence,
My son is lost; and, in my rate, she too,
Who is so far from Italy remov'd,

I ne'er again shall see her. O thou mine heir
Of Naples and of Milan, what strange fish
Hath made his meal on thee!

[blocks in formation]

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

Seb. 'Save his majesty! Ant. Long live Gonzalo! Gon. And, do you mark me, sir?- [me Alon. Pr' ythee no more: thou dost talk nothing t 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 laugh'd at.

Gơn. Who, in this kind of merry fooling, am no thing to you: so you may continue, and laugh at nothing still.

Ant. What a blow was there given!

Seb. An 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 They are inclin'd to do so. [find, Seb.

Please you, sir,

Do not omit the heavy offer of it:

It seldom visits sorrow; when it doth,

It is a comforter.

We two, my lord,

Ant. Will guard your person, while you take your rest, And watch your safety. Alon.

Thank you: Wondrous heavy. [Alonso sleeps. Exit Ariel. Seb. What a strange drowsiness possesses them! Ant. It is the quality o' the climate.

Seb. Why Doth it not then our eye-lids sink? I find not Myself dispos'd to sleep.

Ant. Nor I; my spirits are nimble. They fell together all, as by consent; They dropp'd, as by a thunder-stroke. What might, Worthy Sebastian -O, what might?-No more:And yet, methinks, I see it in thy face, [and What thou should'st be: the occasion speaks thee; My strong imagination sees a crown Dropping upon thy head.

Seb.

What, art thou waking? Ant. Do you not hear me speak? Seb.

I do; and, surely, It is a sleepy language; and thou speak'st Out of thy sleep: What is it thou didst say? This is a strange repose, to be asleep With eyes wide open; standing, speaking, moving, And yet so fast asleep. Noble Sebastian,

Ant.

Thou let'st thy fortune sleep-die, rather; wink'st Whiles thou art waking.

Seb.

Thou dost snore distinctly; There's meaning in thy snores. Ant. I am more serious than my custom: you Must be so too, if heed me; which to do, Trebles thee o'er.

[blocks in formation]

Seb. Claribel. 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. O, 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.

True:

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-

Ant. Ay, sir; where lies that? if it were a kibe,
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.

And when I rear my hand, do
To fall it on Gonzalo.

Draw together: you the like,

Seb. O, but one word. (They converse apart.) Music. Re-enter ARIEL, invisible. Ari. My master through his art foresees the danger That these, his friends, are in; and sends me forth, (For else his project dies,) to keep them living. (Sings in Gonzalo's ear.)

While you here do snoring lie,
Open-ey'd Conspiracy

His time doth take:

If of life you keep a care,

Shake off slumber, and beware:

Awake! Awake!

[blocks in formation]
[ocr errors]

Ant. O, '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, sir, and cry'd; 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 this ground; and let's make further For my poor son. search 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 : (Aside.) [Exeunt.

So, king, go safely on to seek thy son.

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 him
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 fire-brand, in the dark
Out of my way, unless he bid them; but
For every trifle are they set upon me:
Sometime like apes, that moe and chatter at me,
And after, bite me; then like hedge hogs, which
Lie tumbling in my bare-foot way, and mount
Their pricks at my foot-fall; sometime 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 fishlike smell; a kind of, not of the newest, Poor-John. A strange fish! Were I in England now (as once I was,) and had but this fish painted, not a holyday 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 bedfellows. I will here shroud, till the dregs of the storm be past.

Enter STEPHANO, singing; a bottle in his hand. Steph. I shall no more to sea, to sea, Here shall I die ashore ;This is a very scurvy tune to sing a man's funeral; Well, here's my comfort. (Drinks.) The master, the swabber, the boatswain, and I,

The gunner, and his mate,

Lov'd Mall, Meg, and Marian, and Margery,
But none of us car'd for Kate:

For she had a tongue with a tang,
Would cry to a sailor, Go hang:

She lov'd not the savour of tar nor of pitch, Litch:
Yet a tailor might scratch her where'er she did
Then to sea, boys, and let her go hang.

This is a scurvy tune too: but here's my comfort.

Cal. Do not torment me: O!

(Drinks.)

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 afeard now of your four legs; for 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, while Stephano breathes at nostrils.

Cal. The spirit torments me: O!

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. of 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 I 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 beBut he is drowned; and these are devils: O! 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 foal 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 afeard,-thy good friend Trinculo. me, and speak to me; for I am Trinculo;-be not

Ste. If thou beest Trinculo, come forth; I'll pull thee by the lesser legs: if any be 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 killed with a thunderstroke-But art thou not drowned, Stephano? I hope now, thou art not drowned. Is the storm overblown? I hid me under the dead moon-calf's gaberdine, for fear of the storm: And art thou living, Stephano? O Stephano, two Neapolitans 'scap'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 escaped upon a butt of sack, which the sailors heaved over-board, 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 cellar 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 dropped 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 shewed 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 afeard of him?-a very weak monster: -The man i the moon?-a most poor credulous monster: Well drawn, monster, in good sooth. Cal. Ill shew 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 subSte. Come on then; down, and swear. [ject. 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! [thee berries; Cal. I'll shew thee the best springs; I'll pluck Il fish for thee, and get thee wood enough.. A plague upon the tyrant that I serve! Il bear him no more sticks, but follow thee, Thea wondrous 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; Shew thee a jay's nest, and instruct thee how To share 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 will 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,

Nor scrape trenchering, nor wash dish; 'Ban, 'Ban, Ca-Caliban,

Has a new master-Get a new man.

Freedom, hey-day! hey-day, freedom! freedom, hey-day, freedom!

Ste. O brave monster! lead the way. [Exeunt.

ACT III.

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: O, 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,
pon a sore injunction: my sweet mistress
Weeps, when she sees me work; and says, such
Had ne er like executor. I forget:
But these sweet thoughts do even refresh my labours;
[baseness
Most busy-less, when I do it.

Mira.

Enter MIRANDA; and PROSPERO at a distance. Alas, now! pray you, Work not so hard: I would, the lightning had

[blocks in formation]

I'll bear your logs the while: Pray give me that; I'll carry it to the pile.

Fer.

[me

No, precious creature: I had rather crack my sinews, break my back Than you should such dishonour undergo, While I sit lazy by. Mira. It would become me As well as it does you: and I should do it With much more ease; for my good will is to it, And yours against. Pro. Poor worm! thou art infected. This visitation shews it. Mira. You look wearily. Fer. No, noble mistress; 'tis fresh morning with When you are by at night. I do beseech you, (Chiefly, that I might set it in my prayers,) What is your name? 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.

Mira.

Mira.

I do not know

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?

[blocks in formation]
« 上一頁繼續 »