My foot my tutor!-Put thy sword up, traitor; Who mak'st a show, but dar'st not strike, thy conscience And make thy weapon drop. MIRA. PRO. Hence; hang not on my garments. I'll be his surety. PRO. Beseech you, father! Sir, have pity; Silence! one word more Shall make me chide thee, if not hate thee. What! Thou think'st there are no more such shapes as he, And they to him are angels. MIRA. My affections Are then most humble; I have no ambition To see a goodlier man. PRO. Thy nerves are in their infancy again, Come on: obey: [To FER. So they are: And have no vigour in them. FER. My father's loss, the weakness which I feel, The wreck of all my friends, nor this man's threats, Thou hast done well, fine Ariel!-Follow me.— Hark, what thou else shalt do me. MIRA. My father's of a better nature, sir, Come on. [To FER. [To ARIEL. Be of comfort; Than he appears by speech; this is unwonted, Which now came from him. we believe that Smollett's interpretation is the true one,-he's of a lofty spirit and not to be intimidated. thy ward;] Thy posture of defence. ACT II. SCENE I.-Another Part of the Island. Enter ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, GONZALO, ADRIAN, FRANCISCO, and others. have cause GON. Beseech you, sir, be merry: you The masters of some merchant, and the merchant, Can speak like us: then wisely, good sir, weigh 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. GON. Sir, SEB. One-tell. GON. When every grief is entertain'd that's offer'd, Comes to the entertainer SEB. A dollar. GON. Dolour comes to him, indeed; you have spoken truer than you purposed. SEB. You have ta'en it wiselier than I meant GON. Therefore, my lord, you should. ANT. Fie, what a spendthrift is he of his tongue! ALON. I pr'ythee spare. GON. Well, I have done: but yet- SEB. He will be talking. ANT. Which, of hec or Adrian, for a good wager, first begins to crow? a The masters of some merchant,-] Capell reads, perhaps rightly, "The master," &c.; and Steevens conjectures we should print "The mistress of some merchant," Mistress being anciently spelt, maistresse or maistres. b SEB. A dollar. GON. Dolour-] The same quibble is found in "King Lear," Act II. Sc. 4, and in "Measure for Measure," Act I. Sc. 2. e Which, of he or Adrian,-] So the old text, and rightly; compare the following from "Midsummer Night's Dream," Act III. Sc. 2 :— "Now follow, if thou dar'st to try whose right, SEB. The old cock. ANT. The cockrel. SEB. Done: the wager? ANT. A laughter. SEB. A match! ADR. Though this island seem to be desert, SEB. Ha, ha, ha! So, you're paid.a ADR. Uninhabitable, and almost inaccessible, SEB. Yet, ADR. Yet, ANT. He could not miss it. ADR. It must needs be of subtle, tender, and delicate temperance.b ANT. Temperance was a delicate wench. SEB. Ay, and a subtle; as he most learnedly delivered. ADR. The air breathes upon us here most sweetly. SEB. As if it had lungs, and rotten ones. ANT. Or as 't were perfumed by a fen. GON. Here is everything 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 green! ANT. The ground, indeed, is tawny. SEB. With an eye of green in 't. ANT. He misses not much. 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 vouched rarities are. GON. That our garments, being, as they were, drenched in the sea, hold, notwithstanding, their freshness and glosses; being rather new dyed than stained 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. Tunis 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! The usual reading is that adopted by Capell, "Which of them, he or Adrian,” &c.; but Mr. Collier's annotator reads, "Which, or he or Adrian," &c. Ha, ha, ha! So, you're paid.] In the old copies, "So, you're paid," is given to Antonio, wrongly. b Temperance.] That is, temperature. Lush-] Succulent, juicy. 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.a SEB. He hath raised 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. ALON. Ay!b ANT. Why, in good time. GON. Sir, we were talking that our garments seem now as fresh as when we were at Tunis at the marriage 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? Married my daughter there! for, coming thence, Who is so far from Italy removed, I ne'er again shall see her. O thou mine heir FRAN. Sir, he may live; I saw him beat the surges under him, And ride upon their backs; he trod the water, Whose enmity he flung aside, and breasted The surge most swoln that met him; his bold head To the shore, that o'er his wave-worn basis bow'd, He came alive to land. ALON. No, no, he's gone. SEB. Sir, you may thank yourself for this great loss, That would not bless our Europe with your daughter, a the miraculous harp.] The harp of Amphion. b Ay!] This sigh or exclamation, which the two next speeches show indisputably to have been uttered by the king, upon awaking from his trance of grief, has, hitherto, in both old and modern editions, been assigned to Gonzalo. But rather lose her to an African; Where she, at least, is banish'd from your eye, ALON. Pr'ythee, peace. SEB. You were kneel'd to, and importun'd otherwise, By all of us; and the fair soul herself Weigh'd, between lothness and obedience, at Which end o' the beam she'da bow. We have lost your son, I fear, for ever. Milan and Naples have More widows in them of this business' making, Than we bring men to comfort them: The fault's your own. ALON. So is the dear'st o' the loss. My lord Sebastian, The truth you speak doth lack some gentleness, When you should bring the plaster. SEB. Very well. ANT. And most chirurgeonly. When you are cloudy. SEB. ANT. Foul weather! Very foul. Or docks, or mallows. GON. Had I plantation of this isle, my lord,- SEB. GON. And were the king on 't, what would I do? GON. I' the commonwealth I would by contraries Letters should not be known: riches, poverty, No occupation; all men idle, all; And women too,-but innocent and pure; 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, Which end o' the beam she'd bow.] So Malone. The old text has, "Which end o' th' beame should bow." For which Capell substituted, "Which end the beam should bow." And Mr. Collier's annotator changes the "at" of the previous line to as, 46 as Which end," &c. |