But that our soft conditions* and our hearts,
Should well agree with our external parts?
AN USURPING SUBSTITUTE COMPARED TO JOY.
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 top-mast,
The yards, and bowsprit, would I flame distinctly,
Then meet, and join: Jove's lightnings, the precur-
O'the dreadful thunder claps, more momentary
And sight-out-running 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.-
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-starting (then like reeds, not hair,) Was the first man that leap'd; cried, Hell is empty, And all the devils are here.
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.
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
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 made them.
Cal. I must eat my dinner.
This island's mine, by Sycorax my mother,
Which thou taks't from me. When thou cam❜st 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 of the isle,
The fresh springs, brine pits, barren place, and
fertile;
Cursed 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,
Which first was mine own king; and here you sty me
In this hard rock, whiles you do keep from me
The rest of the island.
CALIBAN'S EXULTATION AFTER PROSPERO TELLS
HIM HE SOUGHT TO VIOLATE THE HONOUR OF
HIS CHILD.
O ho, O ho!-'would it nad been done!
Thou didst prevent me; I had peopled else
This isle with Calibans.
Where should this music be? i' the air, or the earth, It sounds no more:-and sure, it waits upon
Some god of the island. Sitting on a bank,
Weeping again the king my father's wreck.
This music crept by me upon the waters;
Allaying both their fury, and my passion,
With its sweet air.
Full fathom five thy father lies;
Of his bones are coral made;
Those are pearls, that were his eyes:
Nothing of him that doth fade,
But doth suffer a sea-change
Into something rich and strange.
Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell:
Hark! now I hear them,-ding-dong, bell.
A LOVER'S SPEECH.
My spirits, as in a dream, are all bound up.
My father's loss, the weakness which I feel,
The wreck of all my friends, or this man's threats,
To whom I am subdued, are but light to me,
Might I but through my prison once a day
Behold this maid: all corners else o' the earth
Let liberty make use of; space enough
Have I in such a prison.
DESCRIPTION OF FERDINAND'S SWIMMING ASHORE.
I saw him beat the surges under him,
And ride upon their backs; he trod the water,
Whose enmity he flung aside, and breasted
The surge most swoln that met him; his bold head 'Bove the contentious waves he kept, and oar'd Himself with his good arms in lusty stroke
To the shore, that o'er his wave-worn basis bow'd,
As stooping to relieve him: I not doubt
He came alive to land.
Do not omit the heavy offer of it;
It seldom visits sorrow; when it doth,
It is a comforter,
I know not: If they speak but truth of her,
These hands shall tear her; if they wrong her honour,
The proudest of them shall well hear of it.
Time hath not yet so dried this blood of mine,
Nor age so eat up my invention,
Nor fortune made such havoc of my means,
Nor my bad life reft me so much of friends,
But they shall find, awak'd in such a kind,
Both strength of limb, and policy of mind,
Ability in means, and choice of friends,
To quit me of them thoroughly.
THE DESIRE OF BELOVED OBJECTS HEIGHTENED BY
THEIR LOSS.
That what we have we prize not to the worth,
Whiles* we enjoy it; but being lack'd and lost,
Why, then we rack the value; then we find
The virtue, that possession would not show us
Whiles it was ours:-So will it fare with Claudio:
When he shall hear she died upon‡ his words,
The idea of her life shall sweetly creep
Into his study of imagination;
And every lovely organ of her life
Shall come apparell'd in more precious habit,
More moving-delicate, and full of life,
Into the eye and prospect of his soul,
Than when she liv'd indeed.
TALKING BRAGGARTS.
But manhood is melted into courtesies,§ valour into compliment, and men are only turned into tongue, and trim ones too: he is now as valiant as Hercules, that only tells a lie, and swears it.
COUNSEL OF NO WEIGHT IN MISERY.
pray thee, cease thy counsel, Which falls into mine ears as profitless
As water in a seive; give not me counsel;.
Nor let no comforter delight mine ear,
But such a one whose wrongs do suit with mine.
Bring me a father, that so lov'd his child,
Whose joy of her is overwhelm'd like mine,
And bid him speak of patience;
Measure his wo the length and breadth of mine,
And let it answer every strain for strain;
As thus for thus, and such a grief for such,
In every lineament, branch, shape and form:
If such a one will smile, and stroke his beard;
Cry-sorrow, wag! and hem, when he should groan;
Patch grief with proverbs; make misfortune drunk
With candle-wasters; bring him yet to me,
And I of him will gather patience.
But there is no such man: For, brother, men
Can counsel, and speak comfort to that grief
Which they themselves not feel; but, tasting it,
Their counsel turns to passion, which before
Would give preceptial medicine to rage,
Fetter strong madness in a silken thread,
Charm ach with air, and agony with words:
No, no; 'tis all men's office to speak patience
To those that wring under the load of sorrow:
But no man's virtue, nor sufficiency,
To be so moral, when he shall endure
The like himself: therefore give me no counsel,
My griefs cry louder than advertisement.
SATIRE ON THE STOIC PHILOSOPHERS.
I pray thee, peace: I will be flesh and blood;
For there was never yet philosopher,
That could endure the tooth-ach patiently;
However they have writ the style of gods
And made a pish at chance and sufferance.
Hold you content: What man! I know them, yea, And what they weigh, even to the utmost scruple. Scrambling, out-facing, fashion-meng'ring boys, That lie, and cog, and flout, deprave and slander, Go antickly, and show outward hideousness.
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