(Which to you shall seem probable) of every hither, spirit: Untie the spell. [Exit Ariel.] How fares my gracious sir? There are yet missing of your company Some few odd lads, that you remember not. Enter Ariel, driving in Caliban, Stephano, and Trinculo, in their stolen apparel. Ste. Every man shift for all the rest, and let no man take care for himself, for all is but fortune.-Coragio, bully-monster, coragio! Trin. If these be true spies that I wear in my head, here's a goodly sight. Cal. O Setebos! these be brave spirits, indeed. How fine my master is! I am afraid He will chastise me. Seb. Ha, ha! What things are these, my lord Antonio? Ant. Very like one of them Is a plain fish, and, no doubt, marketable. Cal. I shall be pinch'd to death. Alon. Is not this Stephano, my drunken butler? Seb. He is drunk now: where had he wine? Alon. And Trinculo is reeling ripe: where should they Find this grand liquor that hath gilded 'em? How cam'st thou in this pickle? Trin. I have been in such a pickle since I saw you last, that, I fear me, will never out of my bones: I shall not fear fly-blowing. Seb. Why, how now, Stephano? Ste. O touch me not: I am not Stephano, but a cramp. Ste. I should have been a sore one then. Alon. [Pointing to Caliban.] This is as strange a thing as e'er I look'd on. Pro. He is as disproportion'd in his manners As in his shape. -Go, sirrah, to my cell; Take with you your companions: as you look To have my pardon, trim it handsomely. Cal. Ay, that I will; and I'll be wise hereafter, Alon. Hence, and bestow your luggage where you found it. Pro. Your royal fleet far off. That is thy charge: then, to the elements; My Ariel-chick, Be free, and fare thou well? Please you draw near. EPILOGUE. SPOKEN BY PROSPERO. [Aside. [Exeunt. [Now my charms are all o'erthrown. As you from crimes would pardon'd be, SCENE.-Sometimes in Verona; sometimes in Milan, and in a Forest near it. Act First. SCENE I.-AN OPEN PLACE IN VERONA. Enter Valentine and Proteus. Val. Cease to persuade, my loving Proteus; But since thou lov'dst, love still, and thrive therein, Pro. Wilt thou begone? Sweet Valentine, adieu. When thou dost meet good hap; and in thy danger, Commend thy grievance to my holy prayers, Val. And on a love-book pray for my success? Val. 'Tis true; for you are over boots in love, Pro. Over the boots! nay, give me not the boots. Val. 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 : If lost, why then a grievous labour won: Or else a wit by folly vanquished. Pro. So, by your circumstance you call me fool. Methinks, should not be chronicled for wise. Val. And writers say, as the most forward bud Even so by love the young and tender wit Once more, adieu. 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. Of thy success in love, and what news else Pro. All happiness bechance to thee in Milan. He leaves his friends to dignify them more; Enter Speed. [Exit. 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. You conclude, that my master is a shepherd, then, a sheep? and 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. Speed. Nay, that I can deny by à circumstance. Pro. It shall go hard, but I'll prove it by another. Speed. The shepherd seeks the sheep, and not the sheep the shepherd; but I seek my master, and my master seeks not me; therefore, I am no sheep. 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? Speed. Ay, sir: I, a lost mutton, gave your letter to her; and she gave me, a lost mutton, nothing for my labour. Pro. Nay, in that you are astray: 'twere best pound you. Speed. Nay, sir, less than a pound shall serve me for carrying your letter. Pro You mistake; I mean the pound, a pinfold. Speed. From a pound to a pin? fold it over and over, "Tis threefold too little for carrying a letter to your lover. Pro. But what said she? Speed. [Nods.] Ay. Pro. Nod, ay? why, that's noddy. Speed. You mistook, sir: I say she did nod, and you ask me if she did nod; and say ay. Pro. And that set together, is-noddy.1 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. 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? Pro. Why couldst thou perceive so much from her? 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 telling your mind. Pro. What! said she nothing? Speed. No, not so much as-"Take this for thy pains." To 1 Fool. |