 | The Virgin Queen |  |
ACT I.
SCENE I.
PROSPERO'S ISLE.Ariel descends, singing.
ARIEL
SINGS.
Spirits, who the curl'd clouds ride,
Down slope sun-beams deftly glide;
Through the fissure of the rock,
Rifted by the light'ning's shock,
Fiends, from nether fires ascend;
Nymphs, who on blue Neptune 'tend,
From the sea's pearl-paved bed,
Rear each coral-crowned head;
Elves, the mountain leave, or dell:
List Ariel's call!
Assemble all
At your potent master's cell!
ARIEL
SPEAKS.
YE various ministers of Prospero's power,
The spell-bound servitors of his high will!
By whom the mighty worker hath perform'd
Deeds, far beyond the stretch of human thought;
Soon shall our master's staff be buried low,
His magick-volume in the deep sea drown'd:
Strait he'll embark; attend him till on board,
And your last, duteous homage to him pay:
Then to the elements be ever free
T'enjoy his boon, your dear-lov'd liberty!
ARIEL
SINGS.
Pure Spirit, fiend, mild nymph, and say,
Your duty done, make holiday!
And each enjoy their full desire;
Pervade the earth, or sea, or fire!
Or, on light pennon, upward fly,
To wanton in the summer sky!
Pure spirit, fiend, mild nymph, and say,
Your duty done, make holiday!
Burthen.
Make holiday!
Exeunt.
SCENE II.
ANOTHER PART OF THE ISLAND.Enter Boatswain, Trinculo, and Mariners.
BOATSWAIN.
Yare! yare!—bear a hand with that stowage;
here's a fresh breeze sprung up, and as fair
for Italy as heart can wish.
TRINCULO.
And where's the wonder o'that?—did not the
fairy promise old grey-beard as much?—and
your true fairies are no courtiers.
BOATSWAIN.
A fairy promise?—why, what a plague, are
we to be puff'd along by the devil and his imps!
I don't know what to make of this conjuration!
and as for duke Prospero, I'm a lubber if I
think him a jot better than an old wizard!
TRINCULO.
Between ourselves, boatswain, I take him to
be a kind of friar Bacon, or doctor Faustus;
that I heard so many tales about, in England:
and like them, he has sold himself to the devil
in the next world, that he may be able to play
when he wreck'd us on this isle of
devils!
[Sudden darkness.
BOATSWAIN.
Avast!—I wish he be not at some of his diabolical
tricks again!—'twas as clear a morn as
ever shone but now; and, lo! on a sudden,
how it is overcast!
And see!—and hark!—heigh, how it rumbles!
TRINCULO.
'Mass! I fear mischief's a-foot! and here comes
Stephano in a parlous taking.
Enter Stephano.
STEPHANO.
Oh, oh, oh! deliver me from such a sight
again!—boatswain! Trinculo! I have been so
scared!
BOATSWAIN.
With what, I trow?
STEPHANO.
The conjuring duke has been sinking his
necromancy-book to the bottom of the red-sea
and burying it half-way to Belzebub;
which has caused such a clatter among the elements,
that I thought dooms-day was come, at
least!
BOATSWAIN.
I'm no seaman, if I relish this same witchcraft!
—and the old magick-monger is going
aboard too!—I wish we get safe to port!—I
doubt it:—I'd as lief sail with a corpse as a conjuror!
TRINCULO.
By'r lady, boatswain, I'm of your mind!
I shall never dare to walk the deck after dark,
Stephano, much less keep watch there all night,
as he once said we should, for dread of spirits,
and hobgoblins.
STEPHANO.
The bare thought of it gives me the shaking
palsy, fellow Trinculo!—he were fitter to
watch o'nights himself, and let servant-monster
be his mate: then, if any goblins should board
us, they could gibber with them in their own
infernal dialect.
BOATSWAIN.
He don't intend, I hope, to take that land-shark
iron cage, he'll devour all the ship's provisions,
and tear us to pieces for more.
TRINCULO,
Who? Caliban? not he, o'my troth!—though
he be a monster, he's a tame one; and no glutton
neither:—give him but the bottle, you stop
his mouth at once.
STEPHANO.
Now you talk of the bottle, Trinculo, I think
a sup of it would do me no harm, after the panick
I have been in; what say ye to some sack,
boys, before we set sail?
TRINCULO.
Ay, and after too; for I quake horribly with
apprehension.
STEPHANO.
Follow, then;—the rock, my wine-cellar, is
in our way to where the ship rides: and our
word shall be, no night-watching! for fear of
spirits and hobgoblins!
TRINCULO.
Ay, spirits and hobgoblins!—'mercy on us!
say I, and send us all safe to Naples!
Exeunt.
SCENE III.
ANOTHER PART OF THE ISLAND.Enter Prospero, Ferdinand, Miranda, and Caliban.
CALIBAN.
No, 'pr'ythee, Prosper, do not leave me here
'Mong'st fiends and spirits; who, when thou'rt not by
To shield him, will lone Caliban devour!
PROSPERO.
Be satisfied;—there's nought to apprehend.
In Neptune's bed my magick-volume sunk,
And many fathoms earth'd my broken staff,
Upon this isle no spirit will abide
Of good or evil, to delight or fear:—
Puppets and elves shall gambol here no more,
In sportive ringlets, by pale Hecate's gleam;—
No more shall hideous spectres scare thee home,
Loit'ring and grumbling at thy bidden task;—
For, when I leave thee, thou'lt be more alone
Than when, with Ariel pent i'th' cloven pine,
A shapeless, helpless thing, I prowling found thee.
CALIBAN.
Which loneliness I now mislike and dread,
More than thy sprites and fiends; 'custom'd to sort
With monkies, apes, baboons, I felt not, ere
But thou hast taught it me: then leave me not,
I pr'ythee!—take me hence!—I'll lick thy feet,
And ever be obedient to controul.
PROSPERO.
What says Miranda? does my child approve
We take our late offending vassal hence?
CALIBAN.
Speak for me, mistress! I'll be naught no more.
MIRANDA.
I think, dear sir! the creature's much reform'd
Since your forgiveness of his last offence;
And, by commixture with so many men,
He hourly humanizes: pity 'twere
In lonesome wretchedness to leave him now,
The speechless brutes his sole society,
Perforce a savage to become again.
CALIBAN.
Thanks! mistress! thanks!—thou smooth-fac'd man, speak too!
FERDINAND.
'Please you, sir, take him hence; I dare engage
He'll do you duteous service in return.
CALIBAN.
Good now, my king, be mov'd!
I am content;
But, have a care! look you deserve this grace!
CALIBAN.
Yea, that I will, in sooth, my noble lord!
In the new world thou goest to, will I dig
For hidden springs, to slake my master's thirst;
Rend thee down fewel; scoop thee a trim cell;
And be in all things meet thy vassal true!
PROSPERO.
Enough;—endeavour to do well, good deeds
Will follow, and beget thee farther favour.
CALIBAN.
Yet grant one other boon, and I am sped!
'Stead of this rugged hide, to 'ray me now
In some sleek garment of my bounteous lord;
Or still yon dolts thy slave will moon-calf call!
PROSPERO.
'Twere not amiss; thou may'st:—but tarry not.
CALIBAN.
I thank thy greatness!—I'll return anon,
And be thy lowly foot-licker for aye!
Exit.
Miranda! solace ever of my woes!
Beloved Milan thou wilt soon revisit;
Whence, with thy hapless sire, thou wert outcast
By dire ambition, source of ev'ry ill!
MIRANDA.
I scarce can guess what 'tis ambition means;
If ill, I must disclaim it: for all mine
Is center'd in my sire's and Ferd'nand's love!
FERDINAND.
Thou sweetest flow'r that e'er in desert grew!
In whom the dignity of crowned queens
With rural innocence and beauty joins,
Here let me breathe forth—
PROSPERO.
Hush! our friends approach.—
The sugar'd prattle of chaste love, my son!
Howe'er th' enraptur'd maid it may delight,
Or glad the doating parent's list'ning ear,
To each one else insipid is, and dull!
Enter Gonzalo.
GONZALO.
My good lord Prospero, I've search'd up and down
This isle of yours, for somewhat to take home;
But, faith and troth, my lord, for aught I see,
Naples or Milan nothing hence can get,
Or valuable, or curious to behold.
PROSPERO.
Yes, my Gonzalo! honour'd friend! to whom
That now I live thence to return I owe!
One thing, at least, to wonder at we'll take;
The mis-created knave you saw ere while,
I now intend—
GONZALO.
Not to take home, I hope!
There were too many monsters, native there,
Else had you ne'er him found, or Milan lost.
PROSPERO.
That we no more will think on, good old lord!
A fault forgiv'n should also be forgot;
Or, like a half-heal'd wound, 'twill fester still,
And rankle at the core.
FERDINAND.
Consummate goodness!
GONZALO.
I'th' name of all that's savage! what comes here?
The thing we spake of, surely, new-attir'd!
Why, how now, sirrah? wherefore this fine change,
From a rough skin to an embroider'd silk?
CALIBAN.
I crav'd this robe, that by yon scoffing apes
I might no more be flouted at, and mock'd;—
They call'd me servant-monster, moon-calf, fish!
Perchance they'll think I am more man-like now;
It may be, but I am not near so warm:
A shaggy hide, from the chill breeze to 'fend,
Is far more worth than 'broider'd silken robe.
Enter Alonso, Sebastian, and Anthonio.
PROSPERO.
Welcome, great king! welcome and health to all!
The earth-dividing sea, now smiling calm,
By swarthy Africk and fair Europe beach'd,
Our good keel soon shall plough; soon we, I trust,
Lost Italy regain!
ALONZO.
'Till we arrive,
Most injur'd Prospero! each hour's a year;
So much this beauteous maid I wish to see
My Ferd'nand's bride, thee to thy right restor'd.
ANTHONIO.
Nor shall I know a happy moment, sir!
A public resignation of your seat;
Which that I e'er usurp'd sore smites my heart!
SEBASTIAN.
No soul in Italy but will rejoice
To see my much-lov'd brother, Naples' king,
With Milan's rightful duke, and their 'troth'd heirs!
Enter Adrian, and Francisco.
PROSPERO.
Now, sirs, I pray, is all in readiness?
ADRIAN.
All, all, great sir!
FRANCISCO.
Our brave, refitted, ship,
With unfurl'd sails, that swell before the breeze,
Seems, like the mettled racer, ere he start,
Hardly held in, impatient of delay!
PROSPERO.
Here, then, I bid adieu to solitude!—
Farewell the desert wild, the sandy beach,
Where oft, from dawn to dusky e'en, I strain'd
My anxious eye-balls to descry a sail;
Farewell my humble cave, whose flinty bed
But ne'er subdued the feelings of my mind:
While some, whose limbs enervate upon down,
Suffer their hearts to harden into stone.
Farewell Adversity;—O, tutor sage!
Still may I practise what of thee I learn'd.
Farewell my sorrows all!—hail! smiling Peace!
And laud we Heaven for this our blest release!
Exeunt all but Caliban.
CALIBAN.
Now shall I see the wond'rous, yearn'd-for place,
Where many Prospers, and Mirandas dwell:
He calls it Milan:—I opine 'tis Heaven!
It must, it must! for many such as she
Would make a Heaven e'en of this desert isle!
Enter Boatswain, Stephano, and Trinculo.
BOATSWAIN.
Come, bear a hand, ye bibbers! the king and
company are just about to embark.
STEPHANO.
I told you, Trinculo, I'd get my bottle out of
the pool;—here, lay to—
TRINCULO.
'Thank you, boy! a good voyage to us, and no
hobgoblins!
[Drinks.]
Who have we here? my man-monster! and in
a guarded jerkin?
TRINCULO.
The goblins stripp'd us, last night, of our share
of the frippery; how cam'st thou still so bedeck'd,
mooncalf?
CALIBAN.
I am no monster! nor no moon-calf, fools!
Yon' great ones, wiser far than ye! say I'm
A proper man! then henceforth flout no more!
STEPHANO.
Trinculo, the wenches in Italy must look to
their hearts now, and we may wear the willow;
for there'll be no making love to any purpose,
while Signior Caliban is by.
BOATSWAIN.
Belay this prating, and make for the beach; or
ye'll be left astern.
TRINCULO.
Come along, Ban!—and, when we are aboard,
I'll teach you how to pare your pig-nut nails,
against you go a-wooing.
CALIBAN.
Haste thou, vile patch! or here be left alone;
Then, as for food ye faint, ye'll wish in vain
Prizing what, dolt-like, now ye dare deride!
Exit Caliban.
STEPHANO.
Say'st thou so, bully monster? lead the way then;
we are for no such dainties: lead on, Moon-calf!
farewell, crab-island! Naples a-hoy!—a brisk
gale, and no hobgoblins!
TRINCULO.
Ay, Stephano! a brisk gale, and no hobgoblins!
Exeunt.
SCENE IV.
THE BEACH.The Ship in view.
Enter Ariel, attended by other Spirits; meeting Prospero, Miranda, Alonso, Ferdinand, Gonzalo, Anthonio, Sebastian, Adrian and Francisco.
ARIEL.
Hail, noble master! still I greet you so;
Though, by your bounty, and your art abjur'd,
I now am free as the surrounding air!
To waft you to fair Italy attend.
PROSPERO.
My dainty chick! my bird! that cancels all
The kindnesses I e'er have shewn to thee!
Are we assembled all, my loving friends?
Where is our servant, Caliban?
Enter Caliban, Boatswain, Stephano, and Trinculo.
CALIBAN.
Here, lord!
Thy foot-licker is here—O, Setebos!
What glorious thing is yon', as mountain huge!
Doth firmly rest upon th' unstable sea?
Fanning, with flickering top, the welkin's cheek!
'Tis sure some god, is come to bear us hence
To Milan; which I rightly judg'd was Heaven!
PROSPERO.
None now are wanting; instant' we'll embark:
And, Heaven permitting, Italy soon reach.
Now, my lov'd Ariel, a last adieu!
As mountain-air, or thought unlimited,
To the elements, and through unbounded space,
Delicate spirit! be thou ever free!
One word, my honour'd master! ere we part.—
Thy grateful servant would, were't possible,
Assure thy voyage clear of doubt or dread;
But that is not permitted! all he can
Is to advise, and hope his fears are vain.
PROSPERO.
What means my gentle Ariel?—spirit, speak!
ARIEL.
Returning from my quest of favouring winds,
As, near the summit of a burning mount,
E'en now, I was descending to this spot;
A sulph'rous demon, issuing from it's vent.
Pour'd most unwelcome tidings in mine ear!
PROSPERO.
Say on, if they import or mine or me!
ARIEL.
The spirit of that foul witch, Sycorax,
Who died, thou know'st, upon this isle, great sir!
From the blue lake of fire, wherein 'twas plung'd,
Will soon be loos'd, till the dread day of doom!
Pow'r she will have to cleave th' intrenchant air,
And gird with trackless zone both land and sea;
But, as her passions ever earthly were,
On earth, in Africk only, can she harm.
For that her son's your slave, the fiend beware!
Touch not at land, sir! 'till your port you gain;
Where once arriv'd, you may abide secure.
PROSPERO.
Thanks for thy caution, virtue's constant friend!
Though, surely, I can have no cause of fear.
Heaven knows I foster'd carefully her son;
That, at his earnest suit, I take him hence,
From solitude to free him, not enslave;
Nor will I basely leave him now, albeit
With hags and fiends no longer can I cope:
But, on th' Omnipotent, most firm, rely!
Who, if the variegated earth we tread,
Or plough the printless bosom of the deep,
Is equally our pilot, guide, and guard!
All-ruling! ever-watchful! good and just!
ARIEL.
Now, sir, embark; and, as I wish, be blest!
Farewell, sweet mistress! ever mild-and pure!
Farewell, good master! cheerily on board!
That I corporeal were, t' embrace my lord!
Approach, ye spirits!—'would I mortal were
One moment, to distil the tender tear!
ARIEL
SINGS.
NO more by moonlight shall be seen,
Upon this isle's enamell'd green,
Or on the yellow sands and shelves,
In sportive dance, the fairy-elves;
Since thy low dell, and rock-roof'd cell,
Thou now forsak'st. Farewell! Farewell!
Burthen,
Farewell! Farewell!
[ARIEL
SINGS.]
To bid adieu, lov'd master, hark!
Thy faithful watch-dogs hoarsely bark;
And thy departure blithe to cheer,
Loud crows the shrill-ton'd chanticlere.
A parting knell, with tuneful shell,
The sea-nymphs sound; ding, ding, dong, bell!
Burthen,
Ding, ding, dong, bell!
Exeunt.
| The Virgin Queen | |