by John Dryden
Mir. Sister, I could not wish that either of them Should go to heaven without us; but it was His fortune, and you must be satisfied.
Dor. I’ll not be satisfied: My father says He’ll make your man as cold as mine is now; And when he is made cold, my father will Not let you strive to make him warm again.
Mir. In spite of you, mine never shall be cold.
Dor. I’m sure ’twas he that made me miserable, And I will be revenged. Perhaps you think ’Tis nothing to lose a man.
Mir. Yes, but there is Some difference betwixt my Ferdinand, And your Hippolito.
Dor. Ay, there’s your judgment: Your’s is the oldest man I ever saw, Except it were my father.
Mir. Sister, no more; It is not comely in a daughter, when She says her father’s old.
Dor. But why do I Stay here, whilst my cold love perhaps may want me? I’ll pray my father to make yours cold too.
Mir. Sister, I’ll never sleep with you again.
Dor. I’ll never more meet in a bed with you, But lodge on the bare ground, and watch my love.
Mir. And at the entrance of that cave I’ll lie, And echo to each blast of wind a sigh. [Exeunt severally, looking discontentedly on one another.
Ariel. Harsh discord reigns throughout this fatal isle, At which good angels mourn, ill spirits smile. Old Prospero, by his daughters robbed of rest, Has in displeasure left them both unblest. Unkindly they abjure each other’s bed, To save the living, and revenge the dead. Alonzo, and his son, are prisoners made, And good Gonzalo does their crimes upbraid. Antonio and Gonzalo disagree, And would, though in one cave, at distance be. The seamen all that cursed wine have spent, Which still renewed their thirst of government; And wanting subjects for the food of power, Each would, to rule alone, the rest devour. The monsters, Sycorax and Caliban, More monstrous grow by passions learned from man. Even I, not framed of warring elements, Partake and suffer in these discontents. Why should a mortal, by enchantments, hold In chains a spirit of etherial mould? Accursed magic we ourselves have taught, And our own power has our subjections wrought! [Exit.
ACT V.
SCENE I.
Enter Prospero and Miranda.
Prosp. You beg in vain; I cannot pardon him; He has offended heaven.
Mir. Then let heaven punish him.
Prosp. It will, by me.
Mir. Grant him, at least, some respite for my sake.
Prosp. I, by deferring justice, should incense The deity against myself and you.
Mir. Yet I have heard you say, the powers above Are slow in punishing; and should not you Resemble them?
Prosp. The argument is weak. But I want time to let you see your errors; Retire, and, if you love him, pray for him. [He’s going.
Mir. And can you be his judge and executioner?
Prosp. I cannot force Gonzalo or my brother, Much less the father to destroy the son; It must be then the monster Caliban, And he’s not here; but Ariel strait shall fetch him.
Enter Ariel.
Ariel. My potent lord, before thou callest I come, To serve thy will.
Prosp. Then, spirit, fetch me here my savage slave.
Ariel. My lord, it does not need.
Prosp. Art thou then prone to mischief, wilt thou be Thyself the executioner?
Ariel. Think better of thy airy minister, Who, for thy sake, unbidden, this night has flown O’er almost all the habitable world.
Prosp. But to what purpose was all thy diligence?
Ariel. When I was chidden by my mighty lord, For my neglect of young Hippolito, I went to view his body, and soon found His soul was but retired, not sallied out: Then I collected The best of simples underneath the moon, The best of balms, and to the wound applied The healing juice of vulnerary herbs. His only danger was his loss of blood, But now he’s waked, my lord, and just this hour He must be dressed again, as I have done it.
Anoint the sword which pierced him with this weapon-salve, and wrap it close from air, till I have time to visit him again.
Prosp. Thou art my faithful servant; It shall be done: be it your task, Miranda, Because your sister is not present here; While I go visit your dear Ferdinand, From whom I will a while conceal the news, That it may be more welcome.
Mir. I obey you, And with a double duty, sir: For now, You twice have given me life.
Prosp. My Ariel, follow me. [Exeunt severally.
SCENE II.
Hippolito discovered on a couch, Dorinda by him.
Dor. How do you find yourself?
Hip. I’m somewhat cold; Can you not draw me nearer to the sun? I am too weak to walk.
Dor. My love, I’ll try. [She draws the chair nearer to the audience.
I thought you never would have walked again; They told me you were gone to heaven; Have you been there?
Hip. I know not where I was.
Dor. I will not leave you, till you promise me, You will not die again.
Hip. Indeed, I will not.
Dor. You must not go to heaven, unless we go Together; for I have heard my father say, That we must strive to be each other’s guide, The way to it will else be difficult, Especially to those who are so young; But I much wonder what it is to die.
Hip. Sure ’tis to dream, a kind of breathless sleep, When once the soul’s gone out.
Dor. What is the soul?
Hip. A small blue thing, that runs about within us.
Dor. Then I have seen it in a frosty morning, Run smoaking from my mouth.
Hip. But, dear Dorinda, What is become of him who fought with me?
Dor. O! I can tell you joyful news of him; My father means to make him die to-day, For what he did to you.
Hip. That must not be, My dear Dorinda; go, and beg your father, He may not die; it was my fault he hurt me, I urged him to it first.
Dor. But if he live, he’ll never leave killing you.
Hip. O no! I just remember when I fell asleep, I heard him calling me a great way off, And crying over me as you would do; Besides, we have no cause of quarrel now.
Dor. Pray, how began your difference first?
Hip. I fought with him, for all the women in the world.
Dor. That hurt you had, was justly sent from heaven, For wishing to have any more but me.
Hip. Indeed I think it was, but I repent it; The fault was only in my blood, for now ’Tis gone, I find I do not love so many.
Dor. In confidence of this, I’ll beg my father That he may live; I’m glad the naughty blood, That made you love so many, is gone out.
Hip. My dear, go quickly, lest you come too late. [Exit Dor.
Enter Miranda at the other door, with Hippolito’s sword wrapt up.
Hip. Who’s this, who looks so fair and beautiful, As nothing but Dorinda can surpass her? O! I believe it is that angel woman, Whom she calls sister.
Mir. Sir, I am sent hither To dress your wound; how do you find your strength?
Hip. Fair creature, I am faint with loss of blood.
Mir. I am sorry for it.
Hip. Indeed, and so am I, For if I had that blood, I then should find A great delight in loving you.
Mir. But, sir, I am another’s, and your love is given Already to my sister.
Hip. Yet I find, That, if you please, I can love still a little.
Mir. I cannot be inconstant, nor should you.
Hip. O my wound pains me.
Mir. I am come to ease you. [She unwraps the sword.
Hip. Alas! I feel the cold air come to me; My wound shoots worse than ever. [She wipes, and anoints the sword.
Mir. Does it still grieve you?
Hip. Now methinks, there’s something Laid just upon it.
Mir. Do you find no ease?
Hip. Yes, yes, upon the sudden, all the pain Is leaving me: Sweet heaven, how I am eased!
Enter Ferdinand and Dorinda to them.
Ferd. [to Dor.] Madam, I must confess my life is yours, I owe it to your generosity.
Dor. I am overjoyed my father lets you live, And proud of my g
ood fortune, that he gave Your life to me.
Mir. How? gave his life to her!
Hip. Alas! I think she said so, and he said, He owed it to her generosity.
Ferd. But is not that your sister with Hippolito?
Dor. So kind already?
Ferd. I came to welcome life, and I have met The cruellest of deaths.
Hip. My dear Dorinda with another man?
Dor. Sister, what business have you here?
Mir. You see I dress Hippolito.
Dor. You’re very charitable to a stranger.
Mir. You are not much behind in charity, To beg a pardon for a man, whom you Scarce ever saw before.
Dor. Henceforward let your surgery alone, For I had rather he should die, than you Should cure his wound.
Mir. And I wish Ferdinand had died, before He owed his life to your entreaty.
Ferd. to Hip. Sir, I am glad you are so well recovered. You keep your humour still to have all women?
Hip. Not all, sir; you except one of the number, Your new love there, Dorinda.
Mir. Ah, Ferdinand! can you become inconstant? If I must lose you, I had rather death Should take you from me, than you take yourself.
Ferd. And if I might have chose, I would have wished That death from Prospero, and not this from you.
Dor. Ay, now I find why I was sent away, That you might have my sister’s company.
Hip. Dorinda, kill me not with your unkindness; This is too much, first to be false yourself, And then accuse me too.
Ferd. We all accuse Each other, and each one denies their guilt: I should be glad it were a mutual error; And, therefore, first to clear myself from fault, Madam, I beg your pardon, while I say, I only love your sister. [To Dor.
Mir. O, blest word! I’m sure I love no man but Ferdinand,
Dor. Nor I, heaven knows, but my Hippolito.
Hip. I never knew I loved so much, before I feared Dorinda’s constancy; but now I am convinced, that I loved none but her; Because none else can recompense her loss.
Ferd. ’Twas happy, then, we had this little trial; But how we all so much mistook I know not.
Mir. I have only this to say in my defence; My father sent me hither, to attend The wounded stranger.
Dor. And Hippolito Sent me to beg the life of Ferdinand.
Ferd. From such small errors, left at first unheeded, Have often sprung sad accidents in love. — But see, our fathers and our friends are come To mix their joys with ours.
Enter Prospero, Alonzo, Antonio, and Gonzalo.
Alon. to Prosp. Let it no more be thought of; Your purpose, though it was severe, was just. In losing Ferdinand, I should have mourned, But could not have complained.
Pros. Sir, I am glad Kind heaven decreed it otherwise.
Dor. O, wonder! How many goodly creatures are there here! How beauteous mankind is!
Hip. O, brave new world, That has such people in’t!
Alon. to Ferd. Now all the blessings Of a glad father compass thee about, And make thee happy in thy beauteous choice.
Gonz. I’ve inward wept, or should have spoken ere this. — Look down, sweet heaven! and on this couple drop A blessed crown; for it is you chalked out The way, which brought us hither.
Anto. Though penitence, Forced by necessity, can scarce seem real, Yet, dearest brother, I have hope my blood May plead for pardon with you: I resign Dominion, which, ’tis true, I could not keep, But heaven knows too, I would not.
Prosp. All past crimes I bury in the joy of this blessed day.
Alon. And, that I may not be behind in justice, To this young prince I render back his dukedom, And as the duke of Mantua thus salute him.
Hip. What is it that you render back? methinks You give me nothing.
Prosp. You are to be lord Of a great people, and o’er towns and cities.
Hip. And shall these people be all men and women?
Gonz. Yes, and shall call you lord.
Hip. Why, then, I’ll live no longer in a prison, But have a whole cave to myself hereafter.
Prosp. And, that your happiness may be complete, I give you my Dorinda for your wife: She shall be yours for ever, when the priest Has made you one.
Hip. How can he make us one? Shall I grow to her?
Prosp. By saying holy words, you shall be joined In marriage to each other.
Dor. I warrant you, those holy words are charms: My father means to conjure us together.
Prosp. My Ariel told me, when last night you quarrelled, [To his daughters.
You said you would for ever part your beds. But what you threatened in your anger, heaven Has turned to prophecy; For you, Miranda, must with Ferdinand, And you, Dorinda, with Hippolito, Lie in one bed hereafter.
Alon. And heaven make Those beds still fruitful in producing children, To bless their parents’ youth, and grandsires’ age.
Mir. to Dor. If children come by lying in a bed, I wonder you and I had none between us.
Dor. Sister, it was our fault; we meant, like fools, To look ‘em in the fields, and they, it seems, Are only found in beds.
Hip. I am o’er-joyed, That I shall have Dorinda in a bed; We’ll lie all night and day together there, And never rise again.
Ferd. [Aside to him.] Hippolito! You yet Are ignorant of your great happiness; But there is something, which, for your own and fair Dorinda’s sake, I must instruct you in.
Hip. Pray teach me quickly, How men and women, in your world, make love; I shall soon learn, I warrant you.
Enter Ariel, driving in Stephano, Trincalo, Mustacho, Ventoso, Caliban and Sycorax.
Prosp. Why that’s my dainty Ariel; I shall miss thee, But yet thou shalt have freedom.
Gonz. O look, sir, look! The master and the sailors — The boatswain too — my prophecy is out, That if a gallows were on land, that man Could ne’er be drowned.
Alon. Now, blasphemy; what, not one oath ashore! Hast thou no mouth by land? Why starest thou so? [To Trincalo.
Trinc. What! more dukes yet? I must resign my dukedom; But ’tis no matter, I was almost starved in’t.
Must. Here’s nothing but wild sallads, without oil, or vinegar.
Steph. The duke and prince alive! Would I had now Our gallant ship again, and were her master: I’d willingly give all my island for her.
Vent. And I my viceroyship.
Trinc. I shall need no hangman; for I shall even hang myself, now my friend Butt has shed his last drop of life. Poor Butt is quite departed.
Anto. They talk like madmen.
Prosp. No matter, time will bring ‘em to themselves, And now their wine is gone, they will not quarrel. Your ship is safe and tight, and bravely rigged, As when you first set sail.
Alon. This news is wonderful.
Ariel. Was it well done, my lord?
Prosp. Rarely, my diligence.
Gonz. But pray, sir, what are those mis-shapen creatures?
Prosp. Their mother was a witch; and one so strong, She would controul the moon, make flows and ebbs, And deal in her command without her power.
Syc. O Setebos! these be brave spirits indeed.
Prosp. Go, sirrah, to my cell, and, as you hope For pardon, trim it up. [To Calib.
Calib. Most carefully. I will be wise hereafter. What a dull fool was I, to take those drunkards For gods, when such as these were in the world?
Prosp. Sir, I invite your highness and your train To my poor cave this night; a part of which I will employ, in telling you my story.
Alon. No doubt it must be strangely taking, sir.
Prosp. When the morn draws, I’ll bring you to your ship, And promise you calm seas, and happy gales. My Ariel, that’s thy charge: Then to the elements Be free, and fare thee well!
Ariel. I’ll do it, master.
Prosp. Now, to make amends For the rough treatment you have found to-day, I’ll entertain you with my magic art; I’ll, by my power, transform this place, and call Up those, that shall make good my promise to you.
SCENE II.
—
Changes to the Rocks, with the arch of Rocks, and calm Sea. Music playing on the Rocks.
Prosp. Neptune, and your fair Amphitrite, rise; Oceanus, with your Tethys too, appear; All ye sea-gods, and goddesses, appear! Come, all ye Tritons; all ye Nereids, come, And teach your saucy element to obey: For you have princes now to entertain, And unsoiled beauties, with fresh youthful lovers.
Neptune, Amphitrite, Oceanus and Tethys, appear in a Chariot drawn with Sea-horses; on each side of the Chariot, Sea-Gods, and Goddesses, Tritons, and Nereids.
Alon. This is prodigious!
Anto. Ah! what amazing objects do we see?
Gonz. This art doth much exceed all human skill.
SONG.
Amph.My lord, great Neptune, for my sake, Of these bright beauties pity take; And to the rest allow Your mercy too. Let this enraged element be still, Let Æolus obey my will: Let him his boisterous prisoners safely keep In their dark caverns; and no more Let them disturb the bosom of the deep, Till these arrive upon their wished-for shore.
Nept. So much my Amphitrite’s love I prize, That no commands of her’s I can despise. Tethys no furrows now shall wear, Oceanus no wrinkles on his brow, Let your serenest looks appear! Be calm and gentle now.
Nept. and {Be calm, ye great parents of the floods and the springs, Amph. {While each Nereid and Triton plays, revels, and sings.
Ocean.Confine the roaring winds, and we Will soon obey you cheerfully.
Chorus {Tie up the winds, and we’ll obey; of Trit. {Upon the floods we’ll sing and play, & Ner.{And celebrate a Halcyon day. [Here the Dancers mingle with the Singers, and perform a dance.
Nept.Great nephew, Æolus, make no noise, Muzzle your roaring boys. [Æolus appears.
Amph.Let ‘em not bluster to disturb our ears, Or strike these noble passengers with fears.
Nept.Afford ‘em only such an easy gale, As pleasantly may swell each sail.
Amph.While fell sea-monsters cause intestine jars, This empire you invade by foreign wars.
Nept.But you shall now be still, And shall obey my Amphitrite’s will.
Æolus {You I’ll obey, who at one stroke can make, descends{With your dread trident, the whole earth to quake. Come down, my blusterers, swell no more, Your stormy rage give o’er. [Winds from the four corners appear.