Enter Prospero, and Miranda.
YOur suit has pity in't, and has prevail'd.
Within this Cave he lies, and you may see him:
But yet take heed; let Prudence be your Guide;
You must not stay, your visit must be short.
One thing I had forgot; insinuate into his mind
A kindness to that youth, whom first you saw;
I would have friendship grow betwixt 'em.
You shall be obey'd in all things.
Be earnest to unite their very souls.
I shall endeavour it.
This may secure Hippolito from that dark danger which my art forebodes; for friendship does provide a double strength t'oppose th'assaults of fortune.
To be a Pris'ner where I dearly love, is but a double tye; a Link of fortune joyn'd to the chain of love; but not to see her, and yet to be so near her, there's the hardship; I feel my self as on a Rack, stretch'd out, and nigh the ground, on which I might have ease, yet cannot reach it.
Sir! my Lord? where are you?
Is it your voice, my Love? or do I dream?
Speak softly, it is I.
O heavenly Creature! ten times more gentle, than your Father's cruel, how on a sudden all my griefs are va∣nish'd!
I come to help you to support your griefs.
While I stand gazing thus, and thus have leave to touch your hand, I do not envy freedom.
Heark! heark! is't not my Father's voice I hear? I fear he calls me back again too soon.
Leave fear to guilty minds: 'tis scarce a virtue when it is paid to Heaven.
But there 'tis mix'd with love, and so is mine; yet I may fear, for I am guilty when I disobey my Fathers will in lov∣ing you too much.
But you please Heav'n in disobeying him,
Heav'n bids you succour Captives in distress.
How do you bear your Prison?
'Tis my Palace while you are here, and love and silence wait upon our wishes; do but think we chuse it, and 'tis what we would chuse.
I'm sure what I would.
But how can I be certain that you love me?
Look to't; for I will dye when you are false.
I've heard my Father tell of Maids, who dy'd,
And haunted their false Lovers with their Ghosts.
Your Ghost must take another form to fright me,
This shape will be too pleasing: do I love you?
O Heav'n! O Earth! bear witness to this sound,
If I prove false—
Oh hold, you shall not swear;
For Heav'n will hate you if you prove forsworn.
Did I not love, I could no more endure this unde∣served captivity, then I could wish to gain my freedom with the loss of you.
I am a fool to weep at what I'm glad of: but I have a suit to you, and that, Sir, shall be now the only tryal of your love.
Y'ave said enough, never to be deny'd, were it my life; for you have far o'rebid the price of all that humane life is worth.
Sir, 'tis to love one for my sake, who for his own de∣serves all the respect which you can ever pay him.
You mean your Father: do not think his usage can make me hate him; when he gave you being, he then did that which cancell'd all these wrongs.
I meant not him, for that was a request which if you love I should not need to urge.
Is there another whom I ought to love?
And love him for your sake?
Yes such a one, who for his sweetness and his goodly shape, (if I, who am unskill'd in forms, may judge) I think can scarce be equall'd: 'Tis a youth, a Stranger too as you are.
Of such a graceful feature, and must I for your sake love?
Yes, Sir, do you scruple to grant the first request I ever made? he's wholly unacquainted with the world, and wants your conversation. You should have compassion on so meer a stranger.
Those need compassion whom you discommend, not whom you praise.
I only ask this easie tryal of you.
Perhaps it might have easier bin
If you had never ask'd it.
I cannot understand you; and methinks am loth
To be more knowing.
He has his freedom, and may get access, when my
Confinement makes me want that blessing.
I his compassion, need and not he mine.
If that be all you doubt, trust me for him.
He has a melting heart, and soft to all the Seals
Of kindness; I will undertake for his compassion.
O Heavens! would I were sure I did not need it.
Come, you must love him for my sake: you shall.
Must I for yours, and cannot for my own?
Either you do not love, or think that I do not:
But when you bid me love him, I must hate him.
Have I so far offended you already,
That he offends you only for my sake?
Yet sure you would not hate him, if you saw
Him as I have done, so full of youth and beauty.
O poyson to my hopes!
When he did visit me, and I did mention this
Beauteous Creature to him, he did then tell me
He would have her.
It is too plain: like most of her frail Sex, she's false,
But has not learnt the art to hide it;
Nature has done her part, she loves variety:
Why did I think that any Woman could be innocent,
Because she's young? No, no, their Nurses teach them
Change, when with two Nipples they divide their
I fear I have offended you, and yet I meant no harm:
But if you please to hear me—
[A noise within.
Heark! Sir! now I am sure my Father comes, I know
His steps; dear Love retire a while, I fear
I've stay'd too long.
Too long indeed, and yet not long enough: oh jealousie!
Oh Love! how you distract me?
He appears displeas'd with that young man, I know
Not why: but, till I find from whence his hate proceeds,
I must conceal it from my Fathers knowledge,
For he will think that guiltless I have caus'd it;
And suffer me no more to see my Love.
Now I have been indulgent to your wish,
You have seen the Prisoner?
And he spake to you?
He spoke; but he receiv'd short answers from me.
How like you his converse?
At second sight
A man does not appear so rare a Creature.
I find she loves him much because she hides it.
Love teaches cunning even to innocence,
And where he gets possession, his first work is to
Dig deep within a heart, and there lie hid,
And like a Miser in the dark to feast alone.
But tell me, dear Miranda, how does he suffer
I think he seems displeas'd.
O then 'tis plain his temper is not noble,
For the brave with equal minds bear good
And evil fortune.
O, Sir, but he's pleas'd again so soon
That 'tis not worth your noting.
To be soon displeas'd and pleas'd so suddenly again,
Does shew him of a various froward Nature.
The truth is, Sir, he was not vex'd at all, but only
Seem'd to be so.
If he be not and yet seems angry, he is a dissembler,
Which shews the worst of Natures.
Truly, Sir, the man has faults enough; but in my con∣science that's none of 'em. He can be no dissembler.
How she excuses him, and yet desires that I should judge her heart indifferent to him? well, since his faults are many, I am glad you love him not.
'Tis like, Sir, they are many,
But I know none he has, yet let me often see him
And I shall find 'em all in time.
I'le think on't.
Go in, this is your hour of Orizons.
Forgive me, truth, for thus disguising thee; if I can make him think I do not love the stranger much, he'll let me see him oftner.
Stay! stay—I had forgot to ask her what she has said
Of young Hippolito: Oh! here he comes! and with him
My Dorinda. I'le not be seen, let
[Ent. Hippolito and Dorinda.
Their loves grow in secret.
But why are you so sad?
But why are you so joyful?
I have within me all, all the various Musick of
The Woods. Since last I saw you I have heard brave news!
I'le tell you, and make you joyful for me.
Sir, when I saw you first, I through my eyes drew
Something in, I know not what it is;
But still it entertains me with such thoughts
As makes me doubtful whether joy becomes me.
Pray believe me;
As I'm a man, I'le tell you blessed news.
I have heard there are more Women in the World,
As fair as you are too.
Is this your news? you see it moves not me.
And I'le have 'em all.
What will become of me then?
I'le have you too.
But are not you acquainted with these Women?
Is there but one here?
This is a base poor world, I'le go to th' other;
I've heard men have abundance of 'em there.
But pray where is that one Woman?
Is she your Sister? I'm glad o'that: you shall help me to her, and I'le love you for't.
[Offers to take her hand.
Away! I will not have you touch my hand.
My Father's counsel which enjoyn'd reservedness,
Was not in vain I see.
What makes you shun me?
You need not care, you'l have my Sisters hand.
Why, must not he who touches hers touch yours?
You mean to love her too.
Do not you love her?
Then why should not I do so?
She is my Sister, and therefore I must love her:
But you cannot love both of us.
I warrant you I can:
Oh that you had more Sisters!
You may love her, but then I'le not love you.
O but you must;
One is enough for you, but not for me.
My Sister told me she had seen another;
A man like you, and she lik'd only him;
Therefore if one must be enough for her,
He is that one, and then you cannot have her.
If she like him, she may like both of us.
But how if I should change and like that man?
Would you be willing to permit that change?
No, for you lik'd me first.
But I would never have you see that man;
I cannot bear it.
I'le see neither of you.
Yes, me you may, for we are now acquainted;
But he's the man of whom your Father warn'd you:
O! he's a terrible, huge, monstrous creature,
I am but a Woman to him.
I will see him,
Except you'l promise not to see my Sister.
Yes for your sake I needs must see your Sister.
But she's a terrible, huge Creature too; if I were not
Her Sister she would eat me; therefore take heed.
I heard that she was fair, and like you.
No, indeed, she's like my Father, with a great Beard,
'Twould fright you to look on her,
Therefore that man and she may go together,
They are fit for no body but one another.
Yonder he comes with glaring eyes, fly! fly! before he sees you.
Must we part so soon?
Y'are a lost Woman if you see him.
I would not willingly be lost, for fear you
Should not find me. I'le avoid him.
She fain would have deceived me, but I know her
Sister must be fair, for she's a Woman;
All of a Kind that I have seen are like to one
Another: all the Creatures of the Rivers and
The Woods are so.
O! well encounter'd, you are the happy man!
Y' have got the hearts of both the beauteous Women.
How! Sir? pray, are you sure on't?
One of 'em charg'd me to love you for her sake.
Then I must have her.
No, not till I am dead.
How dead? what's that? but whatsoe're it be I long to have her.
Time and my grief may make me dye.
But for a friend you should make haste; I ne're ask'd
Any thing of you before.
I see your ignorance;
And therefore will instruct you in my meaning.
The Woman, whom I love, saw you and lov'd you.
Now, Sir, if you love her you'l cause my death.
Besure I'le do't then.
But I am your friend;
And I request you that you would not love her.
When friends request unreasonable things,
Sure th'are to be deny'd: you say she's fair,
And I must love all who are fair; for, to tell
You a secret, Sir, which I have lately found
Within my self; they all are made for me.
That's but a fond conceit: you are made for one, and one for you.
You cannot tell me, Sir,
I know I'm made for twenty hundred Women.
(I mean if there so many be i'th' World)
So that if once I see her I shall love her.
Then do not see her.
Yes, Sir, I must see her.
For I wou'd fain have my heart beat again,
Just as it did when I first saw her Sister.
I find I must not let you see her then.
How will you hinder me?
By force of Arms?
My Arms perhaps may be as strong as yours.
He's still so ignorant that I pity him, and fain
Would avoid force: pray, do not see her, she was
Mine first; you have no right to her.
I have not yet consider'd what is right, but, Sir,
I know my inclinations are to love all Women:
And I have been taught that to dissemble what I
Think is base. In honour then of truth, I must
Declare that I do love, and I will see your Woman.
Wou'd you be willing I should see and love your
Woman, and endeavour to seduce her from that
Affection which she vow'd to you?
I wou'd not you should do it, but if she should
Love you best, I cannot hinder her.
But, Sir, for fear she shou'd, I will provide against
The worst, and try to get your Woman.
But I pretend no claim at all to yours;
Besides you are more beautiful than I,
And fitter to allure unpractis'd hearts.
Therefore I once more beg you will not see her.
I'm glad you let me know I have such beauty.
If that will get me Women, they shall have it
As far as e're 'twill go: I'le never want 'em.
Then since you have refused this act of friendship,
Provide your self a Sword; for we must fight.
A Sword, what's that?
Why such a thing as this.
What should I do with it?
You must stand thus, and push against me,
While I push at you, till one of us fall dead.
This is brave sport,
But we have no Swords growing in our World.
What shall we do then to decide our quarrel?
We'll take the Sword by turns, and fight with it.
Strange ignorance! you must defend your life,
And so must I: but since you have no Sword
Take this; for in a corner of my Cave
[Gives him his sword.
I found a rusty one, perhaps 'twas his who keeps
Me Pris'ner here: that I will fit:
When next we meet prepare your self to fight.
Make haste then, this shall ne're be yours agen.
I mean to fight with all the men I meet, and
When they are dead, their Women shall be mine.
I see you are unskilful; I desire not to take
Your life, but if you please we'll fight on
These conditions; He who first draws bloud,
Or who can take the others Weapon from him,
Shall be acknowledg'd as the Conquerour,
And both the Women shall be his.
And ev'ry day I'le fight for two more with you.
But win these first.
I'le warrant you I'le push you.
Enter Trincalo, Caliban, Sycorax:
My Lord, I see 'em coming yonder.
The starv'd Prince, and his two thirsty Subjects,
That would have our Liquor.
If thou wert a Monster of parts I would make thee
My Master of Ceremonies, to conduct 'em in.
The Devil take all Dunces, thou hast lost a brave
Employment by not being a Linguist, and for want
My Lord, shall I go meet 'em? I'le be kind to all of 'em,
Just as I am to thee.
No, that's against the fundamental Laws of my Duke∣dom: you are in a high place, Spouse, and must give good Ex∣ample. Here they come, we'll put on the gravity of States∣men, and be very dull, that we may be held wise.
Enter Stephano, Ventoso, Mustacho.
Duke Trincalo, we have consider'd.
Peace, and the Butt.
I come now as a private person, and promise to live peaceably under your Government.
You shall enjoy the benefits of Peace; and the first
Fruits of it, amongst all civil Nations, is to be drunk for joy: Caliban skink about.
I long to have a Rowse to her Graces health, and to the Haunse in Kelder, or rather Haddock in Kelder, for I guess it will be half Fish.
Subject Stephano here's to thee; and let old quarrels be drown'd in this draught.
Great Magistrate, here's thy Sisters health to thee.
[Drinks to Caliban.
He shall not drink of that immortal liquor,
My Lord, let him drink water.
O sweet heart, you must not shame your self to day.
Gentlemen Subjects, pray bear with her good Huswifry:
She wants a little breeding, but she's hearty.
Ventoso here's to thee. Is it not better to pierce the
Butt, than to quarrel and pierce one anothers bellies?
Now wou'd I lay greatness aside, and shake my heels, if I had but Musick.
O my Lord! my Mother left us in her Will a hundred Spirits to attend us, Devils of all sorts, some great roaring De∣vils, and some little singing Sprights.
Shall we call? and thou shalt hear them in the Air.
I accept the motion: let us have our Mother-in-Law's
We want Musick, we want Mirth,
Up Dam and cleave the Earth,
We have now no Lords that wrong us,
Send thy merry Sprights among us.
What a merry Tyrant am I, to have my
Musick and pay nothing for't? come hands, hands,
Let's lose no time while the Devil's in the
Enough, enough: now to our Sack agen.
Then the Bottle's a weak shallow fellow if it be drunk first.
Caliban, give Bottle the belly full agen.
May I ask your Grace a question? pray is that hecto∣ring Spark, as you call'd him, flesh or fish?
Subject I know not, but he drinks like a fish.
O here's the Bottle agen; he has made a good voyage,
Come, who begins a Brindis to the Duke?
I'le begin it my self: give me the Bottle; 'tis my
Prerogative to drink first; Stephano, give me thy hand,
Thou hast been a Rebel, but here's to thee,
Prithee why should we quarrel? shall I swear
Two Oaths? by Bottle, and by Butt I love thee:
In witness whereof I drink soundly.
Your Grace shall find there's no love lost,
For I will pledge you soundly.
Thou hast been a false Rebel, but that's all one;
Pledge my Grace faithfully.
I will pledge your Grace Up se Dutch.
But thou shalt not pledge me before I have drunk a∣gen, would'st thou take the Liquor of Life out of my hands; I see thou art a piece of a Rebel still, but here's to thee, now thou shalt have it.
We loyal Subjects may be choak'd for any drink we can get.
Have patience good people, you are unreasonable, you'd be drunk as soon as I. Ventoso you shall have your time, but you must give place to Stephano.
Brother Ventoso, I am afraid we shall lose our places.
The Duke grows fond of Stephano, and will declare him
I ha' done my worst at your Graces Bottle.
Then the Folks may have it. Caliban
Go to the Butt, and tell me how it sounds:
Peer Stephano, dost thou love me?
I love your Grace and all your Princely Family.
'Tis no matter if thou lov'st me; hang my Family:
Thou art my Friend, prithee tell me what
Thou think'st of my Princess?
I look on her as on a very noble Princess.
Noble? indeed she had a Witch to her Mother, and the Witches are of great Families in Lapland, but the Devil was her Father, and I have heard of the Mounsor De-Viles in France; but look on her beauty, is she a fit Wife for Duke Trincalo? mark her behaviour too, she's tippling yonder with the serving-men.
An please your Grace she's somewhat homely, but that's no blemish in a Princess. She is virtuous.
Umph! virtuous! I am loth to disparage her;
But thou art my Friend, canst thou be close?
As a stopt Bottle, an't please your Grace.
[Enter Caliban agen with a Bottle.
Why then I'le tell thee, I found her an hour ago under an Elder-tree, upon a sweet Bed of Nettles, singing Tory, Rory, and Ranthum, Scantum, with her own natural Brother.
O Jew! make love in her own Tribe?
But 'tis no matter, to tell thee true, I marry'd her to be a great man and so forth: but make no words on't, for I care not who knows it, and so here's to thee agen, give me the Bot∣tle, Caliban! did you knock the Butt? how does it sound?
It sounds as though it had a noise within.
I fear the Butt begins to rattle in the throat and is de∣parting: give me the Bottle.
A short life and a merry I say.
[Steph. whispers Sycorax.
But did he tell you so?
He said you were as ugly as your Mother, and that he Marry'd you only to get possession of the Island.
My Mothers Devils fetch him for't.
And your Fathers too, hem! skink about his Graces health agen. O if you would but cast an eye of pity upon me—
I will cast two eyes of pity on thee, I love thee more than Haws, or Black-berries, I have a hoard of Wildings in the Moss, my Brother knows not of 'em; But I'le bring thee where they are.
Trincalo was but my man when time was.
Wert thou his God, and didst thou give him Liquor?
I gave him Brandy and drunk Sack my self; wilt thou leave him, and thou shalt be my Princess?
If thou canst make me glad with this Liquor.
I warrant thee we'll ride into the Country where it grows.
How wilt thou carry me thither?
Upon a Hackney-Devil of thy Mothers.
What's that you will do? hah! I hope you have not betray'd me? How does my Pigs-nye?
Be gone! thou shalt not be my Lord, thou say'st
Did you tell her so—hah! he's a Rogue, do not be∣lieve him chuck.
The foul words were yours: I will not eat 'em for you.
I see if once a Rebel, then ever a Rebel. Did I receive thee into grace for this? I will correct thee with my Royal Hand.
Dost thou hurt my love?
[Files at Trincalo.
Where are our Guards? Treason, Treason!
[Vent. Must. Calib. run betwixt.
Who took up Arms first, the Prince or the People?
This false Traytor has corrupted the Wife of my Bosom.
[Whispers Mustacho hastily.
Mustacho strike on my side, and thou shalt be my Vice-Roy.
I'm against Rebels! Ventoso obey your Vice-Roy.
[They two fight off from the rest.
Hah! Hector Monster! do you stand neuter?
Thou would'st drink my Liquor, I will not help thee.
'Twas his doing that I had such a Husband, but I'le claw him.
[Syc. and Calib. fight, Syc. beating him off the Stage.
The whole Nation is up in Arms, and shall I stand idle?
[Trincalo beats off Stephano to the door. Exit Stephano.
I'le not pursue too far,
For fear the Enemy should rally agen and surprise my Butt in the Cittadel; well, I must be rid of my Lady Trincalo, she will be in the fashion else; first Cuckold her Husband, and then sue for a separation, to get Alimony.
Enter Ferdinand, Hippolito,
(with their swords drawn.)
Come, Sir, our Cave affords no choice of place,
But the ground's firm and even: are you ready?
As ready as your self, Sir.
You remember on what conditions we must fight?
Who first receives a Wound is to submit.
Come, come, this loses time, now for the
[They fight a little, Ferdinand hurts him.
Sir, you are wounded.
I feel no hurt, no matter for my blood.
Remember our Conditions.
I'le not leave, till my Sword hits you too.
[Hip. presses on, Ferd. retires and wards.
I'm loth to kill you, you are unskilful, Sir.
You beat aside my Sword, but let it come as near
As yours, and you shall see my skill.
You faint for loss of blood, I see you stagger,
Pray, Sir, retire.
No! I will ne're go back—
Methinks the Cave turns round, I cannot find—
Your eyes begin to dazle.
Why do you swim so, and dance about me?
Stand but still till I have made one thrust.
[Hippolito thrusts and falls.
O help, help, help!
Unhappy man! what have I done?
I'm going to a cold sleep, but when I wake
I'le fight agen. Pray stay for me.
He's gone! he's gone! O stay sweet lovely Youth!
What dismal noise is that?
O see, Sir, see!
What mischief my unhappy hand has wrought.
Alas! how much in vain doth feeble Art endeavour
To resist the will of Heaven?
He's gone for ever; O thou cruel Son of an
Inhumane Father! all my designs are ruin'd
And unravell'd by this blow.
No pleasure now is left me but Revenge.
Sir, if you knew my innocence—
Can thy excuses give me back his life?
What Ariel! sluggish spirit, where art thou?
Here, at thy beck, my Lord.
I, now thou com'st, when Fate is past and not to be
Recall'd. Look there, and glut the malice of
Thy Nature, for as thou art thy self, thou
Canst not be but glad to see young Virtue
Nipt i'th' Blossom.
My Lord, the Being high above can witness
I am not glad, we Airy Spirits are not of temper
So malicious as the Earthy,
But of a Nature more approaching good.
For which we meet in swarms, and often combat
Betwixt the Confines of the Air and Earth.
Why did'st thou not prevent, at least foretell,
This fatal action then?
Pardon, great Sir,
I meant to do it, but I was forbidden
By the ill Genius of Hippolito,
Who came and threatn'd me if I disclos'd it,
To bind me in the bottom of the Sea,
Far from the light some Regions of the Air,
(My native fields) above a hundred years.
I'le chain thee in the North for thy neglect,
Within the burning Bowels of Mount Heila,
I'le sindge thy airy wings with sulph'rous flames,
And choak thy tender nostrils with blew smoak,
At ev'ry Hick-up of the belching Mountain
Thou shalt be lifted up to taste fresh Air,
And then fall down agen.
Pardon, dread Lord.
No more of pardon than just Heav'n intends thee
Shalt thou e're find from me: hence! flye with speed,
Unbind the Charms which hold this Murtherer's
Father, and bring him with my Brother streight
Mercy, my potent Lord, and I'le outfly thy thought.
O Heavens! what words are those I heard?
Yet cannot see who spoke 'em: sure the Woman
Whom I lov'd was like this, some aiery Vision.
No, Murd'rer, she's, like thee, of mortal mould,
But much too pure to mix with thy black Crimes;
Yet she had faults and must be punish'd for 'em.
Miranda and Dorinda! where are ye?
The will of Heaven's accomplish'd: I have
Now no more to fear, and nothing left to hope,
Now you may enter.
[Enter Miranda and Dorinda.
My Love! is it permitted me to see you once again?
You come to look your last; I will
For ever take him from your Eyes.
But, on my blessing, speak not, nor approach him.
Pray, Father, is not this my Sisters man?
He has a noble form; but yet he's not so excellent
As my Hippolito.
Alas poor Girl, thou hast no man: look yonder;
There's all of him that's left.
Why was there ever any more of him?
He lies asleep, Sir, shall I waken him?
[She kneels by Hippolito, and jogs him.
Alas! he's never to be wak'd agen.
My Love, my Love! will you not speak to me?
I fear you have displeas'd him, Sir, and now
He will not answer me, he's dumb and cold too,
But I'le run streight, and make a fire to warm him.
[Exit Dorinda running.
Enter Alonzo, Gonzalo, Antonio. Ariel (invisible.)
Never were Beasts so hunted into toyls,
As we have been pursu'd by dreadful shapes.
But is not that my Son? O Ferdinand!
If thou art not a Ghost, let me embrace thee.
My Father! O sinister happiness! Is it
Decreed I should recover you alive, just in that
Fatal hour when this brave Youth is lost in Death,
And by my hand?
Heaven! what new wonder's this?
This Isle is full of nothing else.
I thought to dye, and in the walks above,
Wand'ring by Star-light, to have sought thee out;
But now I should have gone to Heaven in vain,
Whilst thou art here behind.
You must indeed in vain have gone thither
To look for me. Those who are stain'd with such black
Crimes as mine, come seldom there.
And those who are, like him, all foul with guilt,
More seldom upward go. You stare upon me as
You n'ere had seen me; have fifteen years
So lost me to your knowledge, that you retain
No memory of Prospero?
The good old Duke of Millain!
I wonder less, that thou Antonio know'st me not,
Because thou did'st long since forget I was thy Brother,
Else I never had bin here.
Shame choaks my words.
For you, usurping Prince,
Know, by my Art, you shipwrackt on this Isle,
Where, after I a while had punish'd you, my vengeance
Wou'd have ended, I design'd to match that Son
Of yours with this my Daughter.
Pursue it still, I am most willing to't.
So am not I. No marriages can prosper
Which are with Murd'rers made; look on that Corps,
This, whilst he liv'd, was young Hippolito, that
Infant Duke of Mantua, Sir, whom you expos'd
With me; and here I bred him up till that blood-thirsty
Man, that Ferdinand—
But why do I exclaim on him, when Justice calls
To unsheath her Sword against his guilt?
To execute Heav'ns Laws.
Here I am plac'd by Heav'n, here I am Prince,
Though you have dispossess'd me of my Millain.
Blood calls for blood; your Ferdinand shall dye,
And I in bitterness have sent for you
To have the sudden joy of seeing him alive,
And then the greater grief to see him dye.
And think'st thou I or these will tamely stand
To view the execution?
[Lays hand upon his Sword.
Hold, dear Father! I cannot suffer you
T' attempt against his life who gave her being
Whom I love.
Nay then appear my Guards—I thought no more to
Use their aids; (I'm curs'd because I us'd it)
[He stamps, and many Spirits appear.
But they are now the Ministers of Heaven,
Whilst I revenge this murder.
Have I for this found thee my Son, so soon agen
To lose thee? Antonio, Gonzalo, speak for pity:
He may hear you.
I dare not draw that blood upon my self, by
Interceding for him.
You drew this judgment down when you usurp'd
That Dukedom which was this dead Prince's right.
Is this a time t'upbraid me with my sins, when
Grief lies heavy on me? y'are no more my friends,
But crueller than he, whose sentence has
Doom'd my Son to death.
You did unworthily t'upbraid him.
And you do worset'endure his crimes.
Gonzalo we'll meet no more as friends.
Agreed Antonio: and we agree in discord.
Ferd. to Mir.
Adieu my fairest Mistress.
Now I can hold no longer; I must speak.
Though I am loth to disobey you, Sir,
Be not so cruel to the man I love,
Or be so kind to let me suffer with him.
Recall that Pray'r, or I shall wish to live,
Though death be all the mends that I can make.
This night I will allow you, Ferdinand, to fit
You for your Death, that Cave's your Prison.
Ah, Prospero! hear me speak. You are a Father,
Look on my age, and look upon his youth.
No more! all you can say is urg'd in vain,
I have no room for pity left within me.
Do you refuse! help Ariel with your fellows
To drive 'em in; Alonzo and his Son bestow in
Yonder Cave, and here Gonzalo shall with
[Spirits drive 'em in, as they are appointed.
Sir, I have made a fire, shall he be warm'd?
He's dead, and vital warmth will ne're return.
Dead, Sir, what's that?
His soul has left his body.
When will it come agen?
O never, never!
He must be laid in Earth, and there consume.
He shall not lye in earth, you do not know
How well he loves me: indeed he'l come agen;
He told me he would go a little while,
But promis'd me he would not tarry long.
He's murder'd by the man who lov'd your Sister.
Now both of you may see what 'tis to break
A Father's precept; you would needs see men, and by
That sight are made for ever wretched.
Hippolito is dead, and Ferdinand must dye
For murdering him.
Your disobedience has so much incens'd me, that
I this night can leave no blessing with you.
Help to convey the body to my Couch,
Then leave me to mourn over it alone.
[They bear off the body of Hippolito.
I've bin so chid for my neglect by Prospero,
That I must now watch all and be unseen.
Sister, I say agen, 'twas long of you
That all this mischief happen'd.
Blame not me for your own fault, your
Curiosity brought me to see the man.
You safely might have seen him and retir'd, but
You wou'd needs go near him and converse, you may
Remember my Father call'd me thence, and I call'd you.
That was your envy, Sister, not your love;
You call'd me thence, because you could not be
Alone with him your self; but I am sure my
Man had never gone to Heaven so soon, but
That yours made him go.
Sister I could not wish that either of 'em shou'd
Go to Heaven without us, but it was his fortune,
And you must be satisfi'd?
I'le not be satisfi'd: My Father says he'l make
Your man as cold as mine is now, and when he
Is made cold, my Father will not let you strive
To make him warm agen.
In spight of you mine never shall be cold.
I'm sure 'twas he that made me miserable,
And I will be reveng'd. Perhaps you think 'tis
Nothing to lose a man.
Yes, but there is some difference betwixt
My Ferdinand, and your Hippolito.
I, there's your judgment. Your's is the oldest
Man I ever saw except it were my Father.
Sister, no more. It is not comely in a Daughter,
When she says her Father's old.
But why do I stay here, whilst my cold Love
Perhaps may want me?
I'le pray my Father to make yours cold too.
Sister, I'e never sleep with you agen.
I'le never more meet in a Bed with you,
But lodge on the bare ground and watch my Love.
And at the entrance of that Cave I'le lye,
And eccho to each blast of wind a sigh.
[Exeunt severally, looking discontentedly on one another.
Harsh discord reigns throughout this fatal Isle,
At which good Angels mourn, ill Spirits smile;
Old Prospero, by his Daughters rob'd of rest,
Has in displeasure left 'em both unblest.
Unkindly they abjure each others bed,
To save the living, and revenge the dead.
Alonzo and his Son are Pris'ners made,
And good Gonzalo does their crimes upbraid.
Antonio and Gonzalo disagree,
And wou'd, though in one Cave, at distance be.
The Seamen all that cursed Wine have spent,
Which still renew'd their thirst of Government;
And, wanting subjects for the food of Pow'r,
Each wou'd to rule alone the rest devour.
The Monsters Sycorax and Caliban
More monstrous grow by passions learn'd from man.
Even I not fram'd of warring Elements,
Partake and suffer in these discontents.
Why shou'd a mortal by Enchantments hold
In chains a spirit of aetherial mould?
Accursed Magick we our selves have taught,
And our own pow'r has our subjection wrought!