X

Trin. Stephano!-if thou beest Stephano, touch me, and speak to me, for I am Trinculo:-be not afeard,-thy good friend Trinculo.

Ste. If thou beest Trinculo, come forth. I'll pull thee by the lesser legs: if any be Trinculo's legs, these are they. Thou art very Trinculo, indeed! How cam'st thou to be the siege of this moon-calf'? Can he vent Trinculos?

Trin. I took him to be killed with a thunder-stroke.—But art thou not drowned, Stephano? I hope now, thou art not drowned. Is the storm overblown? I hid me under the dead moon-calf's gaberdine for fear of the storm. And art thou living, Stephano? Oh Stephano! two Neapolitans 'scap'd? Ste. Pr'ythee, do not turn me about: my stomach is not

constant.

Cal. These be fine things, an if they be not sprites.
That's a brave god, and bears celestial liquor:
I will kneel to him.

Ste. How didst thou 'scape? How cam'st thou hither? swear by this bottle, how thou cam'st hither. I escaped upon a butt of sack, which the sailors heaved over-board, by this bottle! which I made of the bark of a tree, with mine own hands, since I was cast a-shore.

Cal. I'll swear, upon that bottle, to be thy true subject, for the liquor is not earthly. [Kneeling.

Ste. Here: swear, then, how thou escap❜dst.

Trin. Swam a-shore, man, like a duck. I can swim like a duck, I'll be sworn.

Ste. Here, kiss the book. Though thou canst swim like a duck, thou art made like a goose.

Trin. Oh Stephano! hast any more of this?

Ste. The whole butt, man: my cellar is in a rock by the sea-side, where my wine is hid. How now, moon-calf! how does thine ague?

Cal. Hast thou not dropped from heaven?

Ste. Out o' the moon, I do assure thee: I was the man in the moon, when time was.

Cal. I have seen thee in her, and I do adore thee: my mistress showed me thee, and thy dog, and thy bush.

Ste. Come, swear to that; kiss the book: I will furnish it anon with new contents: swear. [CAL. drinks.

9 the SIEGE of this moon-calf?] "Siege" is seat: see "Othello," Vol. vi. p. 18—“ from men of royal siege."

Trin. By this good light, this is a very shallow monster: -I afeard of him?-a very weak monster.-The man i' the moon!-a most poor credulous monster.-Well drawn, monster, in good sooth.

Cal. I'll show thee every fertile inch o' the island; and I will kiss thy foot. I pr'ythee, be my god.

Trin. By this light, a most perfidious and drunken monster: when his god's asleep, he'll rob his bottle.

Cal. I'll kiss thy foot: I'll swear myself thy subject.

Ste. Come on, then; down, and swear. [CAL. lies down'. Trin. I shall laugh myself to death at this puppy-headed monster. A most scurvy monster: I could find in my heart to beat him,

Ste. Come, kiss.

Trin.

But that the poor monster's in drink. An abominable monster!

Cal. I'll show thee the best springs; I'll pluck thee berries;

I'll fish for thee, and get thee wood enough.

A plague upon the tyrant that I serve!

I'll bear him no more sticks, but follow thee,

Thou wondrous man.

Trin. A most ridiculous monster, to make a wonder of a poor drunkard!

Cal. I pr'ythee, let me bring thee where crabs grow;
And I with my long nails will dig thee pig-nuts;
Show thee a jay's nest, and instruct thee how
To snare the nimble marmozet: I'll bring thee
To clustering filberds, and sometimes I'll get thee
Young scamels' from the rock: Wilt thou go with me?

1 Cal. lies down.] All these stage-directions are from the margin of the corr. fo. 1632 none of the old copies have them; but they make the business of the scene more clearly understood, and, perhaps, were designed, as in other plays, to prevent mistakes by the actors.

2 Young SCAMELS] It has been doubted whether by "scamels" (as the word is printed in all the original editions) Shakespeare intended a fish or a bird. Kamm-muschell (as Mr. Thoms observes) in German, means a scallop, and hence he supposes "scamel" may possibly have been derived: Holt also states, though the assertion may require to be confirmed, that in some parts of England limpets are called scams. On the other hand, Theobald altered "scamels" to sea-mells, and that reading Malone followed, on the ground (which is by no means clear) that a sea-mell is a species of gull, which builds its nest in the rock. The Rev. Mr. Dyce ("Remarks," p. 4) suggests that "young stannyels," i. e. young hawks, may be the true word, but no such emendation is contained in the corr. fo. 1632, and it appears as if the old annotator was not acquainted with the word; for when VOL. I.

E

Ste. I pr'ythee now, lead the way, without any more talking. Trinculo, the king and all our company else being drowned, we will inherit here.-Here; bear my bottle.Fellow Trinculo, we'll fill him by and by again.

Cal. Farewell, master; farewell, farewell3.

[Sings drunkenly.

Trin. A howling monster; a drunken monster.

Cal. No more dams I'll make for fish ;
Nor fetch in firing

At requiring,

Nor scrape trencher, nor wash dish;
'Ban 'Ban, Ca-Caliban,

Has a new master-Get a new man3.

Freedom, hey-day! hey-day, freedom! freedom! hey-day,

freedom!

Ste. Oh brave monster! lead the way.

[Exeunt.

ACT III. SCENE I.

Before PROSPERO'S Cell.

Enter FERDINAND, bearing a log.

Fer. There be some sports are painful, and their labour
Delight in them sets off: some kinds of baseness
Are nobly undergone; and most poor matters
Point to rich ends. This my mean task

in "Twelfth-Night" (Vol. ii. p. 679) stallion is misprinted for "stannyel," he altered stallion to falcon, and not to "stannyel." Under these difficulties we adhere to the old orthography.

3 Farewell, master; farewell, farewell.] It may be questioned whether Caliban is to sing these words, and in the old copies they are not printed in Italic type, like his song, although we have the stage-direction, "Caliban sings drunkenly," just above them. Neither is the line in the same measure as his song.

4 Nor scrape TRENCHER,] So the corr. fo. 1632, and so Mr. Singer: the text has hitherto been trenchering; but the Rev. Mr. Dyce proposed "trencher" in his "Remarks," p. 5, though Mr. Singer makes it appear as if the emendation were solely his own. It is a matter of little moment to whom the change properly belongs, but it was certainly first made about two centuries ago.

5 Get a new man.] We must suppose that this was meant by Caliban for Prospero, and that he turned towards the enchanter's cell.

Would be as heavy to me, as odious; but
The mistress which I serve quickens what's dead,
And makes my labours pleasures: oh! she is
Ten times more gentle than her father's crabbed ;
And he's compos'd of harshness. I must remove
Some thousands of these logs, and pile them up,
Upon a sore injunction: my sweet mistress

Weeps when she sees me work; and says, such baseness
Had never like executor. I forget:

But these sweet thoughts do even refresh my
Most busy, least when I do it.

labours;

Enter MIRANDA; and PROSPERO behind.

Mira.
Alas! now, pray you,
Work not so hard: I would, the lightning had
Burnt up those logs that you are enjoin'd to pile.
Pray, set it down, and rest you: when this burns,
"Twill weep for having wearied you. My father
Is hard at study; pray now, rest yourself:
He's safe for these three hours.

Fer.

The sun will set, before I shall discharge
What I must strive to do.

Mira.

I'll bear your logs the while.
I'll carry it to the pile.

Fer.

Oh, most dear mistress!

If you'll sit down,

Pray, give me that;

No, precious creature:

I had rather crack my sinews, break my back,
Than you should such dishonour undergo,

Most busy, LEAST when I do it.] The meaning of this passage seems not to have been understood by the commentators. Ferdinand says that the thoughts of Miranda so refresh his labours, that when he is most busy he seems to feel his toil least. It is printed in the folio, 1623, "Most busy lest, when I do it," a trifling error of the press, corrected in the folio, 1632, although Theobald erroneously tells us that both the oldest editions read lest. Not catching the poet's meaning, he printed “Most busy-less when I do it,” and his supposed emendation has ever since been taken as the text: even Capell adopted it. The corr. fo. 1632 puts it thus: "Most busy, blest when I do it," meaning that though Ferdinand is most busy, still he is blest, while he works, by the sweet thoughts of Miranda. Surely this is a natural explanation, and it only supposes that the letter b had dropped out before lest in the folio, 1623. We, however, do not make this change, nor any other, because, understanding lest of the folio, 1623, as "least" (the form it took in the folio, 1632), we do not see the difficulty of the passage: Ferdinand is so refreshed by the thoughts of Miranda, that, even when “most busy," he "least" feels the toil he is undergoing.

While I sit lazy by.

Mira.

It would become me

As well as it does you; and I should do it

With much more ease, for my good will is to it,
And your's it is against.

Pro.

This visitation shows it.
Mira.

Fer. No, noble mistress;

Poor worm! thou art infected;

[Apart.

You look wearily.

'tis fresh morning with me,

When you are by at night. I do beseech you,
Chiefly that I might set it in my prayers,

What is your name?

Mira.

Miranda.-Oh my father!

Admir'd Miranda!

I have broke your hest to say so.

Fer.

Indeed, the top of admiration; worth
What's dearest to the world! Full many a lady
I have ey'd with best regard; and many a time
The harmony of their tongues hath into bondage
Brought my too diligent ear: for several virtues
Have I lik'd several women; never any
With so full soul, but some defect in her
Did quarrel with the noblest grace she ow'd,
And put it to the foil: but you, oh you!
So perfect, and so peerless, are created
Of every creature's best.

I do not know

Mira.
One of my sex; no woman's face remember,
Save, from my glass, mine own; nor have I seen
More that I may call men, than you, good friend,
And my dear father: how features are abroad,

I am skill-less of; but, by my modesty,
(The jewel in my dower) I would not wish
Any companion in the world but you;
Nor can imagination form a shape,
Besides yourself, to like of. But I prattle
Something too wildly, and my father's precepts
I therein do forget.

Fer.

I am, in my condition,

A prince, Miranda; I do think, a king;

(I would, not so!) and would no more endure

This wooden slavery, than to suffer

The flesh-fly blow my mouth.-Hear my soul speak: