Sidor som bilder

Pro. Fairly fpoke;

Sit then, and talk with her, fhe is thine own.
What, Ariel; my induftrious Servant, Ariel.
Enter Ariel.

Ari. What would my potent Mafter? here I am.
Pro. Thou, and thy meaner Fellows, your last Service
Did worthily perform; and I muft ufe you

In fuch another Trick; go bring the Rabble,
O'er whom I give thee Power, here, to this Place;
Incite them to quick Motion, for I must
Bestow upon the Eyes of this young Couple
Some Vanity of mine Art; it is my Promife,
And they expect it from me.

Ari. Presently?

Pro. Ay, with a Twink.

Ari. Before you can fay Come, and go, And breathe twice; and cry, So, fo;

Each one tripping on his Toe,

Will be here with Mop and Mow.

Do you love me, Mafter? No.

Pro. Dearly, my delicate Ariel; do not approach 'Till thou do'ft hear me call.

Ari. Well, I conceive.

Pro. Look thou be true; do not give Dalliance

Too much the Rein; the ftrongeft Oaths are Straw
To th' Fire i'th' Blood: Be more Abftemious,

Or else good-night your Vow.

Fer. Iwarrant you, Sir,

The white cold Virgin-Snow, upon my Heart,
Abates the Ardours of my Liver.

Pro. Well.

Now come my Ariel, bring a Corolary,


Rather than want a Spirit, appear, and pertly. [Soft Mufick. No Tongue; all Eyes; be filent.

Enter Iris.

Iris. Ceres, moft bounteous Lady, the rich Leas
Of Whear, Rye, Barley, Fetches, Oats, and Pease;
Thy turfy Mountains, where live nibling Sheep,
And flat Medes thetch'd with Stover, them to keep;
Thy Banks with pioned, and tulip'd Brims,
Which spungy April, at thy Heft betrims,


To make cold Nymphs chafte Crowns; and thy Broom-groves,
Whofe Shadow the difmiffed Batchelor loves,
Being Lafs-lorn; thy pole-clipt Vineyard,
And thy Sea-marge fteril, and rocky hard,
Where thou thy felf do'ft Air; the Queen o'th' Sky,
Whose watry Arch, and Meffenger, am I,
Bids thee leave thefe, and with her Sov'raign Grace,
Here on this Grafs-plot, in this very Place [Juno defcends.
To come, and fport; her Peacocks fly amain:
Approach, rich Ceres, her to entertain.
Enter Ceres.

Cer. Hail many-colour'd Meffenger, that ne'er
Do'ft difobey the Wife of Jupiter :

Who, with thy Saffron Wings, upon my Flowers
Diffuseft Honey Drops, refreshing Showers,
And with each end of thy blue Bow do'ft Crown
My bosky Acres, and my unfhrub'd Down,
Rich Scarf to my proud Earth; why hath thy Queen
Summon'd me hither, to this fhort-grafs'd Green?
Iris. A Contract of true Love to celebrate,
And fome Donation freely to eftate

On the blefs'd Lovers.

Cer. Tell me heav'nly Bow,

If Venus or her Son, as thou do'ft know,

Do now attend the Queen? fince they did plot
The Means, that dusky Dis, my Daughter, got:
Her, and her blind Boy's fcandal'd Company,
I have forfworn.

Iris. Of her Society

Be not afraid; I met her Deity

Cutting the Clouds towards Paphos, and her Son
Dove-drawn with her; here thought they to have done
Some wanton Charm upon this Man and Maid,
Whose Vows are, that no Bed-right shall be paid
'Till Hymen's Torch be lighted; but in vain

Mars's hot Minion is return'd again;

Her wafpish-headed Son has broke his Arrows,
Swears he will shoot no more, but play with Sparrows,
And be a Boy right-out.

Cer. Highest Queeen of State,

Great Juno comes, I know her by her Gate.

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Ju. How does my bounteous Sifter? Go with me
To blefs this Twain, that they may profperous be,
And honour'd in their Iffue.

Ju. Honour, Riches, Marriage Bleffing,
Long Continuance and encreafing,
Hourly Foys be still upon you,
Juno fings her Blessings on you:
Earth's Increafe, and Foyzon plenty,
Barns and Garners never empty,
Vines, with cluftring Bunches growing,
Plants, with goodly Burthen bowing:
Spring come to you at the fartheft,
In the very End of Harveft:
Scarcity and Want shall shun you,
Ceres Bleffing fo is on you.

Fer. This is a moft majestick Vision, and
Harmonious charmingly; may I be bold
To think these Spirits ?

Pro. Spirits, which by mine Art

I have from all their Confines call'd, to enact
My prefent Fancies.

Fer. Let me live here ever;

So rare a wonder'd Father, and a Wife,
Makes this Place Paradife.

Pro. Sweet now, Silence:
June and Ceres whisper feriously;

[They fing

There's fomething else to do; hufh, and be mute,
Or else our Spell is marr'd.

Juno and Ceres whisper, and fend Iris on Imployment.
Iris. You Nymphs call'd Nayades of the winding Brooks,
With your fedg'd Crowns, and ever-harmless Looks,
Leave your crifp Channels, and on this Green-land
Answer your Summons, Juno does Command:
Come, temperate Nymphs, and help to celebrate
A Contract of true Love; be not too late.
Enter certain Nymphs.

You Sun-burn'd Sicklemen, of August weary,
Come hither from the Furrow, and be merry;
Make Holy-day; your Rye-ftraw Hats put on,
And these fresh Nymphs encounter every one
In Country footing.


From me he got it. If thy Greatness will
Revenge it on him, for I know thou dar'ft,
But this thing dare not.

Ste. That's most certain.

Cal. Thou shalt be Lord of it, and I'll ferve thee.
Ste. How now fhall this be compaft?

Canft thou bring me to the Party?

Cal. Yea, yea, my Lord, I'll yield him thee asleep,
Where thou may'ft knock a Nail into his Head..
Ari. Thou lieft, thou canst not.

Cal. What a pyde Ninny's this? Thou scurvy Patch! I do befeech thy Greatnefs give him Blows,

And take his Bottle from him; when that's gone,
He'fhall drink nought but Brine, for I'll not fhew him
Where the quick Freshes are.

Ste. Trinculo, run into no further Danger:

Interrupt the Monster one Word further, and by this Hand I'll turn my Mercy out o' Doors, and make a Stock-fish of thee.

Trin. Why, what did I? I did nothing;

I'll go no further off.

Ste. Didft thou not fay he ly'd:

Ari. Thou lieft.

Ste. Do I fo? Take you that.

As you like this, give me the Lie another time.

[Beats him.

Trin. I did not give thee the Lie; out o' your Wits and Hearing too?

A pox o' your Bottle, this can Sack and Drinking do:
A murrrain on your Monster, and the Devil take your

Cal. Ha, ha, ha.

Ste. Now forward with your Tale; prethee ftand fur ther off.

Cal. Beat him enough; after a little time

I'll beat him too.

Ste. Stand further; come proceed.

Cal. Why, as I told thee, 'tis a Cuftom with him
I'th' Afternoon to fleep; there thou may'st brain him,
Having first seiz'd his Books; or with a Log
Batter his Skull, or paunch him with a Stake,
Or cut his Wezand with thy Knife. Remember

First to poffefs his Books; for without them
He's but a Sot, as I am; nor hath not

One Spirit to command: They all do hate him
As rootedly as I. Burn but his Books;
He has brave Utenfils, for fo he calls them,
Which when he has an House, he'll deck withal.
And that most deeply to confider, is
The Beauty of his Daughter; he himself
Calls her a Non-pareil: I never faw a Woman
But only Sycorax my Dam, and the;

But fhe as far furpaffeth Sycorax

As greateft does the leaft.

Ste. Is it fo brave a Lafs?

Cal. Ay, Lord; fhe will become thy Bed, I warrant, And bring thee forth brave Brood.

Ste. Monfter, I will kill this Man: His Daughter and I will be King and Queen, fave our Graces; and Trinculo and thy felf fhall be Vice-Roys.

Doft thou like the Plot, Trinculo?

Trin. Excellent.

Ste. Give me thy Hand; I am forry I beat thee:

But while thou liv'ft keep a good Tongue in thy Head. Cal. Within this half Hour will he be afleep;

Wilt thou deftroy him then?

Ste. Ay, on mine Honour.

Ari. This will I tell my Mafter.

Cal. Thou mak'ft me merry; I am full of Pleafure: Let us be jocund. Will you troul the Catch

You taught me but whileare?

Ste. At thy Request, Monster, I will do Reafon, And Reason: Come on, Trinculo, let us fing.


Flout 'em, and caut 'em; and skont 'em, and flout 'em ; Thought is free.

Cal. That's not the Tune.

[Ariel plays the Tune on a Tabor and Pipe.

Ste. What is this fame?

Trin. This is the Tune of our Catch, plaid by the Pi&ture of No-body.

Ste. If thou be'ft a Man, fhew thy felf in thy Likeness: If thou be'ft a Devil, take't as thou lift.

Trin. Q forgive me my Sin.

D 4


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