strangely

Upon this shore, where you were wreck'd, was landed,

To be the lord on't. No more yet of this;
For 'tis a chronicle of day by day,
Not a relation for a breakfast, nor
Befitting this first meeting. Welcome, sir;
This cell's my court: here have I few attendants,
And cubjects none abroad: pray you look in.
My dukedom since you have given me again,
I will requite you with as good a thing;
At least, bring forth a wonder, to content ye
As much as me my dukedom.

The entrance of the cell opens, and discovers FER-
DINAND and MIRANDA playing at chess.
Mira. Sweet lord, you play me false.
Fer.

No, my dearest love,

I would not for the world. Mira. Yes, for a score of kingdoms you should wrangle,

And I would call it fair play.

Alon.

If this prove
A vision of the island, one dear son
Shall I twice lose.

Seb.
A most high miracle!
Fer. Tho' the seas threaten, they are merciful;
I have curs'd them without cause.

[FERD. kneels to ALON. Alon. Now all the blessings Of a glad father compass thee about! Arise, and say how thou cam'st here. Mira. O! wonder! How many goodly creatures are there here! How beauteous mankind is! O brave new world, That has such people in't!

Pro.

"Tis new to thee.

Alon. What is this maid, with whom thou wast at play?

Your eld'st acquaintance cannot be three hours:
Is she the goddess that hath sever'd us,
And brought us thus together?

Fer.
Sir, she's mortal;
But, by immortal Providence, she's mine;
I chose her, when I could not ask my father
For his advice; nor thought I had one: she
Is daughter to this famous duke of Milan,
Of whom so often I have heard renown,
But never saw before; of whom I have
Received a second life, and second father
This lady makes him to me.
Alom.
I am hers:
But O, ho oddly will it sound, that I
Must ask ray child forgiveness!

Pro.

Be't so! Amen

Let grief and sorrow still embrace his heart,
That doth not wish you joy!
Gon.

Re-enter ARIEL, with the Master and Boatswain amazedly following.

O look, sir, look, sir; here are more of us!
I prophesied, if a gallows were on land,
That swear'st grace o'erboard, not an oath on shore!
This fellow could not drown:-Now, blasphemy.
Hast thou no mouth by land? What is the news?

Boats. The best news is, that we have safely found Our king, and company: the next our ship,Which, but three glasses since, we gave out split, Is tight and yare, and bravely rigg'd, as when We first put out to sea.

Ari.

Sir, all this service Have I done since I went.

Pro..

Alon. These are

strengthen

My tricksy spirit, Aside.

not natural events; they

From strange to stranger:-Say, how came you hither?

Boats. If I did think, sir, I were well awake, I'd strive to tell you. We were dead of sleep, And (how, we know not) all clapp'd under hatches, Where, but even now, with strange and several noises

Of roaring, shrieking, howling, gingling chains
And more diversity of sounds, all horrible,
We were awak'd; straightway, at liberty:
Where we, in all her trim, freshly beheld
Our royal, good, and gallant ship; our master
Cap'ring to eye her: On a trice, so please you,
Even in a dream, were we divided from them,
And were brought moping hither.
Ari.
Was't well done?
Pro. Bravely, my diligence. Thou Aside.
shalt be free.

Alon. This is as strange a maze as e'er men trod And there is in this business more than nature Was ever conduct of: some oracle

Must rectify our knowledge.

Pro.

Sir, my liege,

Let us net burden our remembrances
With a heaviness that's gone.
Gon

Or should have spoke ere this.
gods,

I have inly wept,

Look down, you

And on this couple drop a blessed crown; for it is you, that have chalk'd forth the way Which brought us hither!

Alon.
I say, Amen, Gonzalo!
Gon. Was M'lan thrust from Milan, that his issue
Bhould become kings of Naples? O, rejoice
Beyond a common joy; and set it down

With gold on lasting pillars: In one voyage
Did Claribel her husband find at Tunis;

What things are these, my lord Antonio! Will money buy them?

Ant.

Very like, one of them
Is a plain fish, and, no doubt, marketable.
Pro. Mark but the badges of these men, my lords,
Then say, if they be true':-This mis-shapen knave,
His mother was a witch; and one so strong
That could control the moon, make flows and ebbs,
And deal in her command, without her power:
These three have robb'd me; and this demi-devil
(For he's a bastard one) had plotted with them
To take my life: two of these fellows you
Must know, and own; this thing of darkness I
Acknowledge mine.

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 them?—
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?

Seb. Or stole it, rather.

[Exeunt CAL, STE., and TRIN.
Pro. Sir, I invite your highness, and your train,
To my poor cell: where you shall take your rest
For this one night; which (part of it) I'll waste
With such discourse, as, I not doubt, shall make i
Go quick away: the story of my life,
And the particular accidents gone by,
Since I came to this isle: And in the morn,
I'll bring you to your ship, and so to Naples,
Where I have hope to see the nuptial
Of these our dear-beloved solemniz'd;
And thence retire me to my Milan, where
Every third thought shall be my grave."
Alon.
I long

To hear the story of your life, which must
Take the ear strangely.
Pro.

I'll deliver all;
And promise you calm seas, auspicious gales,
And sail so expeditious, that shall catch

That is thy charge; then to the elements Be free, and fare thou well!-[Aside.] Please you [Exeunt.

draw near.

SCENE I.—An open Place in Verona.

Enter VALENTINE and PROteus.

Val. Cease to persuade, my loving Proteus; Home-keeping youth have ever homely wits: Wer't not affection chains thy tender days To the sweet glances of thy honor'd love, I rather would entreat thy company, To see the wonders of the world abroad, Than living dully sluggardiz'd at home, Wear out thy youth with shapeless idleness. But, since thou lov'st, love still, and thrive therein,

Even as I would, when I to love begin.

Pro. Wilt thou begone? Sweet Valentine, adieu!
Think on thy Proteus, when thou, haply, seest
Some rare note-worthy object in thy travel:
Wish me partaker in thy happiness,

When thou dost meet good hap; and, in thy danger,
If ever danger do environ thee,
Commend thy grievance to my holy prayers,
For I will be thy bead's-man, Valentine.

Val. And on a love-book pray for my success. Pro. Upon some book I love, I'll pray for thee. Val. That's on some shallow story of deep love. How young Leander cross'd the Hellespont.

Pro. That's a deep story of a deeper love; For he was more than over shoes in love. Val. "Tis true; for you are over boots in love, And yet you never swam the Hellespont. Pro. Over the boots? nay, give me not the boots. Val. No, I'll not, for it boots thee not. Pro. Val.

What?

To be

humorous punishment at harvest-home feasts, &c.

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 labor won;
However, but a folly bought with wit,
Or else a wit by folly vanquished.

Pro. So, by your circumstance, you call me fout.
Val. So, by your circumstance, I fear, you'll prove
Pro. "Tis love you cavil at; I am not love.
And he that is so yoked by a fool,
Val. Love is your master, for he masters yon

Methinks should not be chronicled for wise.

Pro. Yet writers say, As in the sweetest bud The eating canker dwells, so eating love Inhabits in the finest wits of all.

Val. And writers say, As the most forward bud Is eaten by the canker ere it blow, Even so by love the young and tender wit Is turn'd to folly; blasting in the bud, Losing its verdure even in the prime, And all the fair effects of future hopes. But wherefore waste I time to counsel thev, That art a votary to fond desire? 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 At Milan let me hear from thee by letters, Of thy success in love, and what news else Betideth here in absence of thy friend; And I likewise will visit thee with mine.

Pro. All happiness bechance to thee in Milan! Val. As much to you at home! and so farewell! [Exit VALENTINB.

Luc.
Peruse this paper, madam.
Jul. To Julia-Say, from whom?
Luc.

That the contents will show.
Jul. Say, say; who gave it thee?
Luc. Sir Valentine's page; and sent, I think,
from Proteus:

He would have given it you, but I, being in the way,
Did in your name receive it; pardon the fault, I pray.
Jul. Now, by my modesty, a goodly broker!"
Dare you presume to harbor wanton lines?
To whisper and conspire against my youth?
Now, trust me, 'tis an office of great worth,
And you an officer fit for the place,
There, take the paper, see it be return'd;
Or else return no more into my sight.

Luc. To plan for love deserves more fee than hate.

Jul. Will yon begone? Luc.

That you may ruminate. [Exit. Jul. And yet, I would I had o erlook'd the letter. It were a shame to call her back again, And pray her to a fault for which I chid her. What fool is she, that knows I am a maid, And would not force the letter to my view? Since maids, in modesty, say No, to that Which they would have the profferer construe, Ay. Fie, fie! how wayward is this foolish love, That, like a testy babe, will scratch the nurse, And presently, all humbled, kiss the rod! How churlishly I chid Lucetta hence, When willingly I would have had her here! How angrily I taught my brow to frown, When inward joy enforc'd my heart to smile! My penance is, to call Lucetta back, And ask remission for my folly past:What ho! Lucetta!

Jul.

Nothing.

What is't you took up

Why didst thou stoop then? Luc. To take a paper up that I let fall. Jul. And is that paper nothing?

Luc. Nothing concerning me. Jul. Then let it lie for those that it concerns. Luc. Madam, it will not lie where it concerns. I'nless it have a false interpreter.

Jul. Some love of yours hath writ to you in rhyme.

Luc. That I might sing it, madam, to a tune: Give me a note: your ladyship can set.

Jul. As little by such toys as may be possible; Best sing it to the tune of Light o' love.

Luc. It is too heavy for so light a tune.
Jul. Heavy? belike it hath some burden, then.
Luc. Ay; and melodious were it, would you

sing it.

Luc. No, madam; it is too sharp Jul. You, minion, are too saucy. Luc. Nay, now you are too flat, And mar the concord with too harsh a descant;" There wanteth but a mean to fill your song. Jul. The mean is drown'd with your unruly base Luc. Indeed I did the base for Proteus. Jul. This babble shall not henceforth trouble me Here is a coil' with protestation!

[Tears the letter Go, get you gone; and let the papers lie: You would be fingering them, to anger me. Luc. She makes it strange; but she would be best pleas'd

To be so anger'd with another letter.

[Exit

Jul. Nay, would I were so anger'd with the same
O hateful hands, to tear such loving words!
Injurious wasps! to feed on such sweet honey,
And kill the bees, that yield it, with your stings!
I'll kiss each several paper for amends.
And here is writ- -kind Julia;-unkind Julia!
As in revenge of thy ingratitude,

I throw thy narae against the bruising stones.
Trampling contemptuously on thy disdain.
Look, here is writ-love-wounded Proteus:-
Poor wounded name! my bosom as a bed,
Shall lodge thee till thy wound be throughly heal'd
And thus I search it with a sovereign kiss.
But twice, or thrice, was Proteus written down?
Be calm, good wind, blow not a word away,
Till I have found each letter in the letter,
Except mine own name; that some whirlwind beat
Unto a ragged, fearful, hanging rock,
And throw it thence into the raging sea!
Lo, here in one line is his name twice writ,
Poor forlorn Proteus, passionate Proteus,
To the sweet Julia-that I'll tear away;
And yet I will not, sith so prettily
He couples it to his complaining names:
Thus will I fold them one upon another;
Now kiss, embrace, contend, do what you will.
Re-enter LUCETTA.

Luc. Madam, dinner's ready, and your father
stays.
Jul. Well, let us go.

Luc. What, shall these papers lie like tell-tales
here?

Jul. If you respect them, best to take them up. Luc. Nay, I was taken up for laying them down: Yet here they shall not lie, for catching cold. Jul. I see you have a month's mind to them. Luc. Ay, madam, you may say what sights you

sce;

I see things too, although you judge I wink.
Jul. Come, come, will't please you go? [Exeunt.
SCENE III-The same. A Room in Antonio's
House.

Enter ANTONIO and PANTHINO.

Wherewith my brother held you in the cloister
Pant. "Twas of his nephew Proteus, your son
Ant. Why, what of him?
Pant.

Ant. Tell me, Panthino, what sad' talk was that,

He wonder'd that your lordship Would suffer him to spend his youth at home; While other men, of slender reputation,"