And Cytherea all in sedges hid;
Which seem to move and wanton with her breath,
Even as the waving sedges play with wind.

ACT 1.

WOMAN'S TONGUE. Think

you,

a little din can daunt mine ears?
Have I not in my time heard lions roar?
Have I not heard the sea, puff'd up with winds,
Rage like an angry boar, chafed with sweat?
Have I not heard great ordnance in the field?
And heaven's artillery thunder in the skies?
Have I not in a pitched battle heard [clang?
Loud 'larums, neighing steeds, and trumpets'
And do

you
tell

me of a woman's tongue; That gives not half so great a blow to the ear, As will a chesnut in a farmer's fire?

ACT III.

A MAD WEDDING.

a

When the priest Should ask if Katherine should be his wife, Ay, by gogs-wouns, quoth he; and swore so loud, That, all amaz'd, the priest let fall the book: And, as he stoop'd again to take it up, The mad-brain'd bridegroom took him such a cuff, That down fell priest and book, and book and priest; Now take them up, quoth he, if any list.

Tra. What said the wench, when he arose again? Gre. Trembled and shook; for why, he stamp'd,

He calls for wine:-A health, quoth he;' as if
He had been aboard carousing to his mates
After a storm:—Quaff’d off the muscadel*,
And threw the sops all in the sexton's face !
Having no other reason, -
But that his beard grew thin and hungerly,
And seem'd to ask him sops as he was drinking.
This done, he took the bride about the neck;
And kiss'd her lips with such a clamorous smack,
That, at the parting, all the church did echo.

a

ACT IV.

THE MIND ALONE VALUABLE.

For 'tis the mind that makes thé body rich; And as the sun breaks through the darkest clouds, So honour peeretht in the meanest habit. What, is the jay more precious than the lark, Because his feathers are more beautiful? Or is the adder better than the eel, Because his painted skin contents the eye? O, no, good Kate; neither art thou the worse For this poor furniture and mean array.

ACTV. THE WIFE'S DUTY TO HER HUSBAND. Fie, fie! unknit that threat'ning unkind brow; And dart not scornful glances from those eyes, To wound thy lord, thy king, thy governor: It blots thy beauty, as frosts bite the meads; Confounds thy fame, as whirlwinds shake fair buds;

a

And in no sense is meet or amiable. A woman mov'd, is like a fountain troubled, Muddy, ill-seeming, thick, bereft of beauty; And while it is so, none so dry or thirsty Will deign to sip, or touch one drop of it. Thy husband is thy lord, thy life, thy keeper, Thy head, thy sovereign; one that cares for thee, And for thy maintenance: commits his body To painful labour, both by sea and land; To watch the night in storms, the day in cold, While thou liest warm at home, secure and safe, And craves no other tribute at thy hands, But love, fair looks, and true obedience; Too little payment for so great a debt. Such duty as the subject owes the prince, Even such, a woman oweth to her husband: And, when she's froward, peevish, sullen, sour, And not obedient to his honest will, What is she, but a foul contending rebel, And graceless traitor to her loving lord?I am asham'd, that women are so simple To offer war, where they should kneel for peace; Or seek for rule, supremacy,

and

sway, When they are bound to serve, love, and obey. Why are our bodies soft, and weak, and smooth, Unapt to toil and trouble in the world; But that our soft conditions* and our hearts, Should well agree with our external parts ?

TEMPEST.

ACTI.

AN USURPING SUBSTITUTE COMPARED TO IVY.

That now he was
The ivy, which had hid my princely trunk,
And suck'd my verdure out on't.
ARIEL'S DESCRIPTION OF MANAGING THE STORM.

I boarded the king's ship; now on the beak,
Now in the waist, the deck, in every cabin,
I flam'd amazement: Sometimes, I'd divide,
And burn in many places; on the topmast,
The yards, and bowsprit, would I flame distinctly,
Then meet, and join:Jove's lightnings, the precursors
O’ the dreadful thunder-claps, more momentary
And sight-outrunning were not: the fire and cracks
Of sulphurous roaring, the most mighty Neptune
Seem'd to besiege, and make his bold waves tremble,
Yea, his dread trident shake.

-Not a soul, But felt a fever of the mad, and play'd Some tricks of desperation: All, but mariners, Plung'd in the foaming brine, and quit the vessel, Then all a-fire with me: the king's son, Ferdinand, With hair up-staring (then like reeds, not hair), Was the first man that leap'd; cried, Hell is empty, And all the devils are here.

a

PROSPERO REPROVING ARIEL.
Thou dost; and think'st
It much, to tread the ooze of the salt deep;
To run upon the sharp wind of the north;

To do me business in the veins o’the earth,
When it is bak'd with frost.

CALIBAN'S CURSES. Cal. As wicked dew as e'er my mother brush'd With raven's feather from unwholesome fen, Drop on you both! a south-west blow on ye, And blister

you

all o'er! Pro. For this, be sure, to-night thou shalt have

cramps, Side-stitches that shall pen thy breath up; urchins* Shall, for that vast of night that they may work, All exercise on thee: thou shalt be pinch'd As thick as honeycombs, each pinch more stinging Than bees that make them. Cal. I must eat my

dinner. This island's mine, by Sycorax my mother, Which thou tak'st from me. When thou camest first, Thou strok’dst me, and mad'st much of me; would'st

give me Water with berries in't; and teach me how To name the bigger light, and how the less, That burn by day and night: and then I lov'd thee, And show'd thee all the qualities o'the isle, [tile; The fresh springs, brine pits, barren place, and ferCursed be I that did so! All the charms Of Sycorax, toads, beetles, bats, light on you! For I am all the subjects that you have,

[me Which first was mine own king: and here you sty In this hard rock, whiles you do keep from me The rest of the island.