Fer. No, as I am a man. Mira. There's nothing ill can dwell in such a temple: If the ill spirit have so fair an house, Good things will strive to dwell with❜t. Pro. Follow me.-[To FERD. Speak not you for him; he's a traitor.-Come. I'll manacle thy neck and feet together; Sea-water shalt thou drink, thy food shall be The fresh-brook muscles, wither'd roots, and husks, Wherein the acorn cradled: Follow. Fer. I will resist such entertainment, till No; has more power. [He draws. O dear father, What, I say, Mine enemy He's gentle, and not fearful11. Pro. My foot my tutor!-Put thy sword up, traitor; Who mak'st a show, but dar'st not strike, thy conscience Is so possess'd with guilt: come from thy ward; And make thy weapon drop. Mira. Beseech you, father! Pro. Hence; hang not on my garments. Mira. I'll be his surety. Sir, have pity; 41 Fearful was sometimes used in the sense of formidable, terrible, dreadful, like the French épouvantable; as may be seen by consulting Cotgrave or any of our old Dictionaries. Shakspeare almost always uses it in this sense. In K. Henry VI. Act iii. Sc. 2, "A mighty and a fearful head they are." He has also fearful wars; fearful bravery; &c. &c. The verb to fear is most commonly used for to fright, to terrify, to make afraid. Mr. Gifford remarks, "as a proof how little our old dramatists were understood at the Restoration, that Dryden censures Jonson for an improper use of this word, the sense of which he altogether mistakes." Silence: one word more Pro. Shall make me chide thee, if not hate thee. What! An advocate for an impostor? hush! Thou think'st there are no more such shapes as he, Having seen but him and Caliban: Foolish wench! To the most of men this is a Caliban, And they to him are angels. Mira. My affections Are then most humble; I have no ambition To see a goodlier man. Come on; obey: [To FERD. Pro. Fer. It works:-Come on. Pro. Thou hast done well, fine Ariel!-Follow me.— [To FERD. and MIRA. Be of comfort; Hark, what thou else shalt do me. [To ARIEL. Mira. My father's of a better nature, sir, Than he appears by speech; this is unwonted, Pro. Thou shalt be as free As mountain winds: but then exactly do All points of my command. Ari. To the syllable. Pro. Come, follow: speak not for him. [Exeunt. ACT II. SCENE I. Another part of the Island. Enter ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, GON- Is much beyond our loss: our hint1 of woe 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. 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 taken it wiselier than I meant you should. Gon. Therefore, my lord, 1 See note 14, p. 20. 2 It was usual to call a merchant-vessel a merchant, as we now say a merchant-man. 3 He calls Gonzalo the visitor, in allusion to the office of one who visits the sick to give advice and consolation. Ant. Fie, what a spendthrift is he of his tongue! Alon. I pr'ythee, spare. Gon. Well, I have: But yet Seb. He will be talking. Ant. Which of them, he, or Adrian, for a good wager, first begins to crow? Seb. The old cock. Seb. Done: The wager? Seb. A match. Adr. Though this island seem to be desert,— Ant. So you've pay'd. 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*. 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. Of that there's none, or little. Gon. How lush 5 and lusty the grass looks? how green? Ant. The ground, indeed, is tawny. 4 Temperance is here used for temperature, or temperateness. 5 Lush is luxuriant, in like manner luscious is used in A Midsummer Night's Dream: Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine." 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 vouch'd rarities are. Gon. That our garments, being, as they were, drenched in the sea, hold, notwithstanding, their freshness, and glosses; being rather new dy'd than stain'd 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 Africk, 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! 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. 6 That is, with a shade or small portion of green. 7 Alluding to the wonders of Amphion's music. |