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FTEE a caretu szamımba ath shures for dok Shalspere
annean that serves ams ir the places, and inci.
SES ither smas arti
* n. tapi impeer with the cart 2: this period TE BLI E sromcles and black-letter cazananaria that Queen Elisabeth during a bunting escos. Es casually met, “all unawares" kr samme senge man imming with our the woods, his Dates Of PRELETSTES “ith mosse and yvie.” Insteace found in de cab is as to bring his rich przz u te TOOL S ses her off to his cave, accant.ng 2 bu nazir "pumai caution of an afternoon." E SE sa ma se a profound bow, and instantii dea matuma watend bateh of compimenta ere. et nisssant to hear,
A for more iresinit apo e tus + TEMPESI" than the old, and one mest popular comment * MUCEDOETS, TE E SUMUSTELINASFaced to an account by one Silvestre inar-bena
tidak senant of the Bermudas in the se in a narative of the shipwreck of Sir George Harris whe E ** Forage for the PEDRE DIODSTE Trgunin. He was cast on the Bermuda Iscenes that we habit. and generally betrei I. E entaniteti; although a benevolent commentator Jerant *** ani comforts his readers with fir assurance that they were not really enchanted Sremst while Sir George Sam ant ne Teppie remained on the island; and a te hak ebewn himself to some tie part whose eyes were best suited to the ONE S it has *AXXALS," speztmg o fun stress upon the dreadful coast," fure marks the theme fixere, of all sains. salt ant supposed to be enchanted and inhabits wishes untis grow by reason of Custome mmsrous thunder, storms, and tempussas UT NU of the elemental and peneration of the hags and imps anc decis si au
C and Sroures and Setebos, might well de <a hame on ***** is fearfully fine. through the long fermenting incantation of “accustomed monstres site
The narrative of the sitpters of Sir George Sortee saa puisse of the “TEYPEST," in 1611 It is supposed to have been the
list beautiful the thought, that after his bard struggle with the comme chant ik of mind, the purity of affection, and the magnanimity of soul, whana. En into which he had been so much thrown, he should yet bare present these
1; st, nis
SCENE I.-On a Ship at Sea. A storm, with
thunder and lightning.
Enter a Shipmaster and a Boatswain.
Master. Good : Speak to the mariners: fall to't yarely, or we run ourselves aground; bestir, bestir.
[Erit. Enter Mariners. Boats. Heigh, my hearts ; cheerly, cheerly, my hearts; yare, yare: Take in the topsail ; 'Tend to the master's whistle.—Blow till thou burst thy wind, if room enough! Enter Alonso, Sebastian, Antonio, FERDINAND,
Gonzalo, and others. Alon. Good Boatswain, have care. Where's the master? Play the men.
Boats. I pray now, keep below.
Boats. Do you not hear him? You mar our labour; keep your cabins: you do assist the 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 hour, if it so hap.—Cheerly, good hearts.—Out of our way,
E.cit. 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
destiny our cable, for our own doth little advantage! If he be not born to be hanged, our case is miserable.
[Exeunt. Re-enter Boatswain. Boats. Down with the topmast; yare; lower, lower; bring her to try with main-course. [A cry within.] A plague upon this howling! They are louder than the weather, or our office.
Re-enter Sebastian, Antonio, and Gonzalo. Yet again ? what do you here? Shall we give o'er, and drown? Have you a mind to sink ?
Seb. A pox o’your throat! you bawling, blasphemous, incharitable dog!
Boats. Work you, then.
Ant. Hang, cur, hang! you whoreson, insolent noise-maker, we are less afraid to be drowned than thou art.
Gon. I'll warrant him from drowning; though the ship were no stronger than a nut-shell, and as leaky as an unstanched wench.
Boats. Lay her a-hold, a-hold: set her two courses; off to sea again, lay her off.
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 theirs.
Seb. I am out of patience.
drunkards.This wide-chapped rascal;-'Would, thou mightst
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. [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.
Exit. 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.
But that the sea, mounting to the welkin's cheek,
Pro. Be collected ;
Mira. O, woe the day!
cell, And thy no greater father.
Mira. More to know
Pro. 'Tis time
[Lays down his mantle. Lie there, my art.-— Wipe thou thine eyes; have
comfort. The direful spectacle of the wreck, which touched The very virtue of compassion in thee, I have with such provision in mine art So safely ordered, that there is no soulNo, not so much perdition as an hair, Betid to any creature in the vessel Which thou heard'st
which thou saw'st sink. Sit down; For thou must now know further.
Mira. You have often
The hour 's now come; The very
minute bids thee ope thine ear; Obey, and be attentive. Canst thou remember A time before we came unto this cell ? I do not think thou canst; for then thou wast not Out three years old.
Mira. Certainly, sir, I can.
Pro. By what? by any other house, or person ?
Mira. 'T is far off;
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,