TH

labour

Delight in them fets off: fome kinds of bafenefs
Are nobly undergone; and moft poor matters
Point to rich ends. This my mean task
Would be as heavy to me, as odious; but
The miftrefs, which I ferve, quickens what's dead,
And makes my labours pleafures. O, fhe is
Ten times more gentle than her father's crabbed;
And he's compos'd of harfhnefs. I muft remove
Some thoufands of thefe logs, and pile them up,
Upon a fore injunction. My fweet mistress
Weeps when the fees me work; and fays, fuch bafeness
Had ne'er like executor; I forget:

But thefe fweet thoughts do even refresh my labour,
Moft bufy-lefs, when I do it.

Enter Miranda, and Profpero at a distance.

Mira. Alas, now! pray you,

Work not fo hard: I would, the lightning had Burnt up thofe logs, that you are enjoin'd to pile! Pray, fet it down, and reft you: when this burns,

The two firft folios read:

Moft bufy left, when I do it.

'Tis true this reading is corrupt; but the corruption is fo very little removed from the truth of the text, that I cannot afford to think well of my own fagacity for having difcovered it.

THEOBALD.

Twill weep for having wearied you my father
Is hard at ftudy; pray now, reft yourself;
He's fafe for thefe three hours.

Fer. O most dear mistress,

The fun will fet before I fhall discharge
What I muft ftrive to do.

Mira. If you'll fit down,

I'll bear your logs the while: pray, give me that
I'll carry't to the pile.

Fer. No, precious creature;

I had rather crack my finews, break my
Than fhould fuch difhonour undergo,
While I fit lazy by.

you

Mira. It would become me,

back,

As well as it does you: and I should do it
With much more cafe; for my good will is to it,、
And yours it is against.

Pro. Poor worm! thou art infected;

This vifitation fhews it.

Mira. You look wearily.

Fer. No, noble mistrefs; 'tis fresh morning with

me,

When you are by, at night. I do befeech (Chiefly that I might fet it in my prayers) What is your name?

Mira. Miranda. O my father,

I have broke your 7 heft to fay fo!
Fer. Admir'd Miranda!

Indeed, the top of admiration; worth

you,

What's dearest to the world! Full many a lady
I have ey'd with beft regard; and many a time
The harmony of their tongues hath into bondage
Brought my too diligent ear: for feveral virtues
Have I lik'd feveral women; never any
With fo full foul, but fome defect in her
Did quarrel with the nobleft grace fhe ow'd,
And
put it to the foil. But you, O you,

7 heft] For bebeft; i. e. command. STEEVENS.

Sa

So perfect, and fo peerlefs, are created
Of every creature's best.
Mira. I do not know

One of my fex; no woman's face remember,
Save from my glass mine own; nor have I feen
More that I may call men, than you, good friend,
And my dear father: how features are abroad,
I am skillefs of; but, by my modefty,
(The jewel in my dower) I would not wish
Any companion in the world but you;
Nor can imagination form a fhape,
Befides yourself, to like of. But I prattle
Something too wildly, and my father's
I therein do forget.

Fer. I am, in my condition,

precepts

A prince, Miranda; I do think, a king;
(I would, not fo!) and would no more endure
This wooden flavery, than I would fuffer

The flesh-fly blow my mouth.-Hear my foul speak;-
The very inftant that I faw you, did

My heart fly to your fervice; there refides

To make me flave to it; and, for

Am I this patient log-man.

Mira. Do you love me?

your fake,

Fer. O heaven, O earth, bear witness to this found,

And crown what I profefs with kind event,

If I fpeak true; if hollowly, invert

What beft is boaded me, to mischief! I,

Beyond all limit of what elfe i' the world,
Do love, prize, honour you.

Mira. 9 I am a fool,

To weep at what I am glad of.

Pro.

Of every creature's beft.] Alluding to the picture of Venus by Apelles. JOANSON.

• I am a fool,

To weep at what I am glad of.] This is one of thofe touches of nature that distinguish Shakespeare from all other writers. It was necessary, in fupport of the character of Miranda, to

make

Pro. Fair encounter

Of two most rare affections! Heavens rain grace
On that which breeds between them!

Fer. Wherefore weep you?

Mira. At mine unworthinefs, that dare not offer,
What I defire to give; and much less take,
What I fhall die to want. But this is trifling;
And all the more it feeks to hide itself,

The bigger bulk it fhews. Hence bashful cunning!
And prompt me, plain and holy innocence !
I am your wife, if you will marry me;
If not, I'll die your maid: to be your fellow
You may deny me; but I'll be your fervant,
Whether you will or no.

Fer. My mistress, dearest,
And I thus humble ever.
Mira. My husband then?

Fer. Ay, with a heart as willing

As bondage e'er of freedom. Here's my hand. Mira. And mine, with my heart in't. And now farewell,

Till half an hour hence,

Fer. A thoufand, thousand!

[Exeunt.

make her appear ignorant, that excefs of forrow and excefs of joy find alike their relief from tears; and as this is the first time that confummate pleasure had made any near approaches to her heart, she calls fuch an expreffion of it, folly.

STEEVENS,

A thousand, thousand !] It is impertinent to be for ever pointing out beauties, which the reader of taste will of course diftinguish for himself; and yet I cannot quit this fcene without obferving, that it is fuperior in its kind to any of those that pafs between Romeo and Juliet; and holds up the most captivating picture of juvenile affection that has been exhibited, even by Shakespeare himself. The prince behaves through the whole with a delicacy fuitable to his birth and education; and his unexperienced miftrefs pours forth her foul without referve, without defcending from the foft elevation of maiden dignity, and apparently derives her confidence from the purity of her intentions. STEEVENS.

Pro

Pro. So glad of this as they, I cannot be, Who are furpriz❜d withal; but my rejoicing At nothing can be more. I'll to my book; For yet, ere fupper-time, muft I perform Much business appertaining.

[Exit.

Enter Caliban, Stephano, and Trinculo, with a bottle. Ste. Tell not me :-when the but is out, we will drink water; not a drop before: therefore bear up, and board 'em :-fervant-monfter, drink to me.

Trin. Servant-monfter? the folly of this island! They fay, there's but five upon this ifle: we are three of them; if the other two be brain'd like us, the state

totters.

Ste. Drink, fervant-monster, when I bid thee: thy eyes are almost set in thy head.

Trin. Where fhould they be fet elfe? he were a brave monfter indeed, if they were fet in his tail.

Ste. My man-monster hath drown'd his tongue in fack for my part, the fea cannot drown me. I fwam, ere I could recover the fhore, five-and-thirty leagues, off and on. By this light, thou shalt be my lieutenant, monster, 3 or my standard.

2 Ifuam, &c.] This play was not published till 1623. Albumazar made its appearance in 1614, and has a paffage relative to the escape of a failor yet more incredible. Perhaps, in both inftances, a fneer was meant at the Voyages of Ferdinando Mendez Pinto, or the exaggerated accounts of other lying tra

vellers :

3

66

-five days I was under water; and at length
"Got up and fpread myfelf upon a cheft,
Rowing with arms, and fteering with my feet,
"And thus in five days more got land."

66

or my ftandard.

A& 3.

Sc. 5.

Trin. Your lieutenant, if you lift; he's no ftandard.] Meaning, he is fo much intoxicated, as not to be able to ftand. We call fruit-trees, that grow without fupport, ftandards. STEEVENS.