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EPILOGUE.

Spoken by Prospero.

NOW my charms are all o'erthrown,
And what strength I have's mine own;
Which is most faint: now, 'tis true,
I must be here confin'd by you,
Or sent to Naples: Let me not,
Since I have my dukedom got,
And nardon'd the deceiver, dwell
In this bare island, by your spell;
But release me from my bands,
With the help of your good hands.'
Gentle breath of yours my sails
Must fill, or else my project fails,
Which was to please: now I want
Spirits to enforce, art to enchant;
And my ending is despair,
Unless I be reliev'd by prayer;

Which pierces so that it assaults
Mercy itself, and frees all faults.
As

you from crimes would pardon d be, Let your indulgence set me free.

It is observed of The Tempest, that its plan is regular; this the author of The Revisal thinks, what I think too, an accidental effect of the story, not intended or regarded by our author. But, whatever might be Shakspeare's intention in forming or adopting the plot, he has made it instrumental to the production of many characters, diversified with boundless invention, and preserved with profound skill in nature, extensive knowledge of opinions, and accurate observation of life. 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

() Applause: noise was supposed to dissolve a guilt, and the final happiness of the pair for whom our passions and reasons are equally interested.

spell.

JOHNSON.

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SCENE I.—An open place in Verona. Valentine and Proteus.

Valentine.

CEASE to persuade, my loving Proteus;

Out-laws.

Julia, a lady of Verona, beloved by Proteus.
Silvia, the duke's daughter, beloved by Valentine.
Lucetta, waiting-woman to Julia.

Servants, musicians.

Scene, Sometimes in Verona; sometimes in Milan ; and on the frontiers of Mantua.

If lost, why then a grievous labour won;
However, but a folly bought with wit,

Enter Or else a wit by folly vanquished.

Home-keeping youth have ever homely wits:
Wer't not, affection chains thy tender days
To the sweet glances of thy honour'd love,
I rather would entreat thy company,
To see the wonders of the world abroad,
Than living dully sluggardiz'd at home,
Wear out thy youth with shapeless idleness.
But, since thou lov'st, love still, and thrive therein,
Even as I would, when I to love begin.
Pro. Wilt thou be gone? Sweet Valentine,
adieu!

Think on thy Proteus, when thou, haply, scest
Some rare note-worthy object in thy travel:
Wish me partaker in thy happiness,

When thou dost meet good hap; and, in thy dan

ger,

If ever danger do environ thee,
Commend thy grievance to my holy prayers,
For I will be thy beads-man, Valentine.

Val. And on a love-book pray for my success. Pro. Upon some book I love, I'll pray for thee. Val. That's on some shallow story of deep love, How young Leander cross'd the Hellespont.

Pro. That's a deep story of a deeper love.
For he was more than over shoes in love.
Val. 'Tis true; for you are over boots in love,
And yet you never swam the Hellespont.
Pro. Over the boots? nay, give me not the
boots.1

Fal. No, I'll not, for it boots thee not.
Pro.
Val.

What? To be

In love, where scorn is bought with groans; coy looks,

With heart-sore sighs; one fading moment's mirth,
With twenty watchful, weary, tedious nights:
If haply won, perhaps, a hapless gain;

(1) A humorous punishment at harvest-home feasts, &c.

Pro. So, by your circumstance, you call me fool. Val. So, by your circumstance, I fear, you'll prove.

Pro. 'Tis love you cavil at; I am not Love. Val. Love is your master, for he masters you: And he that is so yoked by a fool,

Methinks should not be chronicled for wise.
Pro. Yet writers say, As in the sweetest bud
The eating canker dwells, so eating love
Inhabits in the finest wits of all.

Val. And writers say, As the most forward bud
Is caten by the canker ere it blow,
Even so by love the young and tender wit
Is turn'd to folly; blasting in the bud,
Losing his verdure even in the prime,
And all the fair effects of future hopes.
But wherefore waste I time to counsel thee,
That art a votary to fond desire?
Once more adicu: my father at the road
Expects my coming, there to see me shipp'd.
Pro. And thither will I bring thee, Valentine.
Val. Sweet Proteus, no; now let us take our

leave.

At Milan, let me hear from thee by letters,
Of thy success in love, and what news else
Betideth here in absence of thy friend;
And I likewise will visit thee with mine.
Pro. All happiness bechance to thee in Milan!
Val. As much to you at home! and so, farewell!
[Exit Valentine.

Pro. He after honour hunts, I after love:
He leaves his friends, to dignify them more;
I leave myself, my friends, and all for love.
Thou, Julia, thou hast metamorphos'd me;
Made me neglect my studies, lose my time,
War with good counsel, set the world at nought;
Made wit with musing weak, heart sick with
thought.

Enter Speed.

Speed. Sir Proteus, save you: saw you my master?

Pro. But now he parted hence, to embark for Milan.

Speed. Twenty to one then, he is shipp'd already;| And I have play'd the sheep, in losing him.

Pro. Indeed a sheep doth very often stray, An if the shepherd be awhile away.

Speed. Sir, I could perceive nothing at all from her; no, not so much as a ducat for delivering your letter: and being so hard to me that brought your mind, I fear, she'll prove as hard to you in

Speed. You conclude that my master is a shep-telling her mind. Give her no token but stones; herd then, and I a sheep?

Pro. I do.

Speed. Why then my horns are his horns, whether
I wake or sleep.

Pro. A silly answer, and fitting well a sheep.
Speed. This proves me still a sheep.
Pro. True; and thy master a shepherd.

for she's as hard as steel.

Pro. What, said she nothing?

Speed. No, not so much as-take this for thy pains. To testify your bounty, I thank you, you have testern'd me; in requital whereof, henceforth carry your letters yourself; and so, sir, I'll commend you to my master.

Speed. Nay, that I can deny by a circumstance. Pro. It shall go hard, but I'll prove it by another. Speed. The shepherd seeks the sheep, and not Which cannot perish, having thee aboard, the sheep the shepherd; but I seek my master, Being destin'd to a drier death on shore:and my master seeks not me: therefore, I am no I must go send some better messenger; sheep. I fear, my Julia would not deign my lines, Receiving them from such a worthless post.

Pro. Go, go, begone, to save your ship from wreck;

Pro. The sheep for fodder follow the shepherd, the shepherd for food follows not the sheep; thou for wages followest thy master, thy master for wages follows not thee: therefore, thou art a sheep. Speed. Such another proof will make me cry baa.

Pro. But dost thou hear? gav'st thou my letter

to Julia?

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Speed. I.

me,

[Speed nods.

Pro. Nod, I? why, that's noddy." Speed. You mistook, sir; I say, she did nod: and you ask if she did nod, and I say, I. Pro. And that set together, is--noddy. Speed. Now you have taken the pains to set it together, take it for your pains.

Pro. No, no, you shall have it for bearing the letter.

Speed. Well, I perceive, I must be fain to bear with you.

Pro. Why, sir, how do you bear with me? Speed. Marry, sir, the letter very orderly; having nothing but the word, noddy, for my pains.

Pro. Beshrew me, but you have a quick wit. Speed. And yet it cannot overtake your slow purse.

Pro. Come, come, open the matter in brief: what said she?

Speed. Open your purse, that the money, and the matter, may be both at once delivered.

Pro. Well, sir, here is for your pains; what said she?

Speed. Truly, sir, I think you'll hardly win her.
Pro. Why? could'st thou perceive so much

from her?

(1) A term for a courtezan. (2) A game at cards. (3) Ill betide.

[Exeunt.

SCENE II.-The same. Garden of Julia's
house. Enter Julia and Lucetta.

would'st thou then counsel me to fall in love
Jul. But say, Lucetta, now we are alone,
Luc. Ay, madam; so you stumble not unheed-
fully.

Jul. Of all the fair resort of gentlemen,
That every day with parle' encounter me,
In thy opinion, which is worthiest love?
Luc. Please you, repeat their names, I'll show
my mind

According to my shallow simple skill.

Jul. What think'st thou of the fair Sir Eglamour? Luc. As of a knight well-spoken, neat and fine; But, were I you, he never should be mine.

I

Jul. What think'st thou of the rich Mercatio?
Luc. Well of his wealth; but of himself, so, so.
Jul. What think'st thou of the gentle Proteus?
Luc. Lord, lord! to see what folly reigns in us!
Jul. How now! what means this passion at his
name?

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Luc. Pardon, dear madam ; 'tis a passing shame, That I, unworthy body as I am, Should censure thus on lovely gentlemen. Jul. Why not on Proteus, as of all the rest? Luc. Then thus,of many good I think him

best.

Jul. Your reason?

Luc. I have no other but a woman's reason; think him so, because I think him so.

Jul. And would'st thou have me cast my love
on him?

Luc. Ay, if you thought your love not cast away.
Jul. Why, he of all the rest hath never mov'd me.
Luc. Yet he of all the rest, I think, best loves ye.
Jul. His little speaking shows his love but small.
Luc. Fire, that is closest kept, burns most of all.
Jul. They do not love, that do not show their love.
Luc. O, they love least, that let men know their
love.

Jul. I would, I knew his mind.
Luc.
Peruse this paper, madam.
Jul. To Julia,-Say, from whom?
Luc.
That the contents will show.
Jul. Say, say; who gave it thee?
Luc. Sir Valentine's page; and sent, I think,
He would have given it you, but I, being in the way,
from Proteus:
(5) Talk.

Given me a sixpence, (6) Pass sentence.

Did in your name receive it; pardon the fault, I

pray.

Jul. Now, by my modesty, a goodly broker |1
Dare you presume to harbour wanton lines?
To whisper and conspire against my youth?
Now, trust me, 'tis an office of great worth,
And you an officer fit for the place.

There, take the paper, see it be return'd;
Or else return no more into my sight.

Jul. This babble shall not henceforth trouble me. Here is a coil with protestation !

[Tears the letter. Go, get you gone; and let the papers lie: You would be fingering them, to anger me. Luc. She makes it strange; but she would be best pleas'd

To be so anger'd with another letter.

[Exit. Jul. Nay, would I were so anger'd with the same!

Luc. To plead for love deserves more fee than O hateful hands, to tear such loving words!

hate.

Jul. Will you be gone? Luc.

Ay.

That you may ruminate. [Exit. Jul. And yet, I would I had o'erlook'd the letter. It were a shame to call her back again, And pray her to a fault for which Ichid her. What fool is she, that knows I am a maid, And would not force the letter to my view? Since maids, in modesty, say No, to that Which they would have the profferer construe, Fic, fie! how wayward is this foolish love, That, like a testy babe, will scratch the nurse, And presently, all humbled, kiss the rod ! How churlishly I chid Lucetta hence, When willingly I would have had her here! How angrily I taught my brow to frown, When inward joy enforc'd my heart to smile! My penance is, to call Lucetta back, And ask remission for my folly past:What ho! Lucetta!

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Jul.

Nothing.

What is't you took up

Why didst thou stoop, then? Luc. To take a paper up that I let fall. Jul. And is that paper nothing? Luc. Nothing concerning mc. Jul. Then let it lie for those that it concerns. Luc. Madam, it will not lie where it concerns, Unless it have a false interpreter.

Jul. Some love of yours hath writ to you in rhyme. Luc. That I might sing it, madam, to a tune: Give me a note: your ladyship can set

Jul. As little by such toys as may be possible: Best sing it to the tune of Light o' love.

Luc. It is too heavy for so light a tune.

Jul. Heavy? belike it hath some burden then.
Luc. Ay; and melodious were it, would you
sing it.
Jul. And why not you?
Luc.

I cannot reach so high.
Jul. Let's see your song:-How now, minion?
Luc. Keep tune there still, so you will sing it out:
And yet, methinks, I do not like this tune.
Jul. You do not?

Luc. No, madam; it is too sharp.
Jul. You, minion, are too saucy.

Luc. Nay, now you are too flat,

And mar the concord with too harsh a descant:a
There wanteth but a mean to fill your song.
Jul. The mean is drown'd with your unruly base.
Luc. Indeed, I bid the base for Proteus."

(1) A matchmaker. (2) Passion or obstinacy, (3) A term in music, (4) The tenor in music.

Injurious wasps! to feed on such sweet honey,
And kill the bees that yield it, with your stings!
I'll kiss each several paper for amends.
And here is writ-kind Julia ;-unkind Julia!
As in revenge of thy ingratitude,

I throw thy name against the bruising stones,
Trampling contemptuously on thy disdain.
Look, here is writ-love-wounded Proteus :-
Poor wounded name! my bosom, as a bed,
Shuil lodge thee, till thy wound be thoroughly
heal'd;

And thus I search it with a sovereign kiss.
But twice, or thrice, was Proteus written down?
Be calm, good wind, blow not a word away
Till I have found each letter in the letter,
Except mine own name; that some whirlwind bear
Unto a ragged, fearful, hanging rock,
And throw it thence into the raging sea!
Lo, here in one line is his name twice writ,-
Poor forlorn Proteus, passionate Proteus,
To the sweet Julia :-that I'll tear away;
And yet I will not, sith" so prettily
He couples it to his complaining names:
Thus will I fold them one upon another;
Now kiss, embrace, contend, do what you will.
Re-enter Lucetta.

Luc. Madam, dinner's ready, and your father
Jul. Well, let us go.

stays.

Luc. What, shall these papers lie like tell-tales here?

Jul. If you respect them, best to take them up. Luc. Nay, I was taken up for laying them down: Yet here they shall not lie, for catching cold.

Jul. I see you have a month's mind to them.
Luc. Ay, madam, you may say what sights you

see;

I see things too, although you judge I wink. Jul. Come, come, will't please you go? [Exeunt.

SCENE III.-The same. A room in Antonio's house. Enter Antonio and Panthino.

Ant. Tell me, Panthino, what sad talk was that, Wherewith my brother held you in the cloister? Pan. 'Twas of his nephew Proteus, your son. Ant. Why, what of him?

Pan.

He wonder'd, that your lordship Would suffer him to spend his youth at home; While other men, of slender reputation," Put forth their sons to seek preferment out: Some, to the wars, to try their fortune there; Some, to discover islands far away; Some, to the studious universities. For any, or for all these exercises, He said, that Proteus, your son, was meet; And did request me, to importune you, To let him spend his time no more at home,

(5) A challenge. (6) Bustle, stir, (7) Since, (8) Serious, (9) Little consequence

Which would be great impeachment' to his age,
In having known no travel in his youth.
Ant. Nor need'st thou much importune me to

that

Whereon this month I have been hammering.
I have consider'd well his loss of time;
And how he cannot be a perfect man,
Not being try'd and tutor'd in the world:
Experience is by industry achiev'd,
And perfected by the swift course of time:
Then, tell me, whither were I best to send him?
Pant. I think, your lordship is not ignorant,
How his companion, youthful Valentine,
Attends the emperor in his royal court.

Ant. I know it well.

Pant. "Twere good, I think, your lordship sent him thither:

There shall he practise tilts and tournaments, Hear sweet discourse, converse with noblemen; And be in eye of every exercise,

Worthy his youth and nobleness of birth.

Ant. I like thy counsel; well hast thou advis'd: And, that thou may'st perceive how well I like it, The execution of it shall make known;

Even with the speediest execution

I will despatch him to the emperor's court.

Come on, Panthino; you shall be employ'd
To hasten on his expedition.

[Exeunt Ant. and Pant. Pro. Thus have I shunn'd the fire, for fear of burning;

And drench'd me in the sea, where I am drown'd.
I fear'd to show my father Julia's letter,
Lest he should take exceptions to my love;
And with the vantage of mine own excuse
Hath he excepted most against my love.
O, how this spring of love resembleth

The uncertain glory of an April day;
Which now shows all the beauty of the sun,
And by and by a cloud takes all away!
Re-enter Panthino.

Pant. Sir Proteus, your father calls for you;
He is in haste, therefore, I pray you, go.
Pro. Why, this it is! my heart accords thereto;
And yet a thousand times it answers, no.

ACT II.

[Exeunt.

Pant. To-morrow, may it please you, Don Al-SCENE I.-Milan. An apartment in the Duke's

phonso,

With other gentlemen of good esteem,

Are journeying to salute the emperor,

And to commend their service to his will.

Ant. Good company: with them shall Proteus go: And, in good time,-now will we break with him.

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How happily he lives, how well belov'd,
And daily graced by the emperor ;
Wishing me with him, partner of his fortune.

Ant. And how stand you affected to his wish? Pro. As one relying on your lordship's will, And not depending on his friendly wish.

Ant. My will is something sorted with his wish: Muse' not that I thus suddenly proceed; For what I will, I will, and there an end. I am resolv'd, that thou shalt spend some time With Valentinus in the emperor's court; What maintenance he from his friends receives, Like exhibition thou shalt have from me. To-morrow be in readiness to go: Excuse it not, for I am peremptory.

Pro. My lord, I cannot be so soon provided; Please you, deliberate a day or two.

Ant. Look, what thou want'st, shall be sent after thee:

No more of stay; to-morrow thou must go.

(3) Reproach. (2) Break the matter to him.

Wonder.

(4) Allowance.

***

palace. Enter Valentine and Speed.

Speed. Sir, your glove.

Val. Not mine; my gloves are on.

Speed. Why then this may be yours, for this is but one.

Val. Ha! let me see: ay, give it me, it's mine :-
Sweet ornament that decks a thing divine!
Ah Silvia! Silvia!

Speed. Madam Silvia! madam Silvia!
Val. How now, sirrah!

Speed. She is not within hearing, sir.
Val. Why, sir, who bade you call her?
Speed. Your worship, sir; or else I mistook.
Val. Well, you'll still be too forward.
Speed. And yet I was last chidden for being toc
slow.

Val. Go to, sir; tell me, do you know madam
Silvia ?

Speed. She that your worship loves?
Val. Why, how know you that I am in love?

Speed. Marry, by these special marks: First, you have learned, like Sir Proteus, to wreath your arms like a male-content; to relish a love-song, like a robin-red-breast; to walk alone, like one that had the pestilence; to sigh, like a school-boy that had lost his A. B. C.; to weep, like a young wench that had buried her grandam; to fast, like one that takes diet; to watch, like one that fears robbing; to speak puling, like a beggar at Hallowmas. You were wont, when you laugh'd, to crow like a cock; when you walked, to walk like one of the lions; when you fasted, it was presently after dinner; when you looked sadly, it was for want of money: and now you are metamorphosed with a mistress, that, when I look on you, I can hardly think you my master.

Val. Are all these things perceived in me?
Speed. They are all perceived without you.
Val. Without me? They cannot.

Speed. Without you? nay, that's certain, for, without you were so simple, none else would: but you are so without these follies, that these follies are within you, and shine through you like the water in a urinal; that not an eye, that sees you,

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