A masque. Enter IRIS.

Iris. Ceres, most bounteous lady, thy rich leas
Of wheat, rye, barley, vetches, oats, and pease;
Thy turfy mountains, where live nibbling sheep,
And flat meads thatch'd with stover, them to keep;
Thy banks with peonied and lilied brims,
Which spongy April at thy hest betrims,

To make cold nymphs chaste crowns; and thy broom groves,

Whose shadow the dismissed bachelor loves,

Being lass-lorn; thy pole-clipt vineyard;
And thy sea-marge, steril, and rocky-hard,

Where thou thyself dost air: The queen o' th' sky,
Whose watery arch, and messenger, am I,

Bids thee leave these; and with her sovereign grace,
Here on this grass-plot, in this very place,
To come and sport: her peacocks fly amain
Approach, rich Ceres, her to entertain.

Enter CERES.

Cer. Hail, many-colour'd messenger, that ne'er
Dost disobey the wife of Jupiter;

Who, with thy saffron wings, upon my flowers
Diffusest honey-drops, refreshing showers;
And with each end of thy blue bow dost crown
My bosky acres,' and my unshrubb'd down,
Rich scarf to my proud earth; Why hath thy queen
Summon'd me hither, to this short-grass'd-green?
Iris. A contract of true love to celebrate;

And some donation freely to estate

On the bless'd lovers.

Cer.

Tell me, heavenly bow,

If Venus, or her son, as thou dost know,
Do now attend the queen? since they did plot
The means, that dusky Dis my daughter got,
Her and her blind boy's scandal'd company
I have forsworn.

Iris.

Of her society

Be not afraid; I met her deity

Cutting the clouds towards Paphos; and her son
Dove-drawn with her: here thought they to have done
Some wanton charm upon this man and maid,

[1] Bosky-woody. Bosky acres are fields divided from each other by hedgeBoscus is middle Latin for wood. Bosquet, Fr. STEEV.

rows.

Whose vows are, that no bed-rite shall be paid
Till Hymen's torch be lighted: but in vain;
Mar's hot minion is return'd again;

Her waspish-headed son has broke his arrows,

Swears he will shoot no more, but play with sparrows, And be a boy right out.

Cer.

Highest queen of state,

Great Juno comes; I know her by her gait.

Enter JUNO.

Juno. How does my bounteous sister? Go with me,
To bless this twain, that they may prosperous be,
And honour'd in their issue.

SONG.

Juno. Honour, riches, marriage-blessing,
Long continuance, and increasing,
Hourly joys be still upon you!
Juno sings her blessings on you.

Cer. Earth's increase, and foison plenty,
Barns, and garners never empty;
Vines, with clust'ring bunches growing;
Plants, with goodly burden bowing;
Spring come to you, at the farthest,
In the very end of harvest!

Scarcity, and want, shall shun you ;
Ceres' blessing so is on you.

Fer. This is a most majestic vision, and
Harmonious charmingly: May I be bold
To think these spirits?

Pro. Spirits, which by mine art

I have from their confines call'd to enact

My present fancies.

Fer. Let me live here ever;

So rare a wonder'd father, and a wife,

Make this place Paradise.

[JUNO and CERES whisper, and send IRIS on employment.

Pro. Sweet now, silence;

Juno and Ceres whisper seriously;

There's something else to do: hush, and be mute,

Or else our spell is marr'd.

Iris. You nymphs, call'd Naiads, of the wand'ring

brooks,

With your sedg'd crowns, and ever-harmless looks,

Leave your crisp channels, and on this green land
Answer your summons; Juno does command:
Come, temperate nymphs, and help to celebrate
A contract of true love; be not too late.
Enter certain Nymphs.

You sun-burn'd sicklemen, of August weary,
Come hither from the furrow, and be merry;
Make holy-day: your rye-straw hats put on,
And these fresh nymphs encounter every one
In country footing.

Enter certain Reapers, properly habited: they join with the Nymphs in a graceful dance; towards the end whereof PROSPERO starts suddenly, and speaks; after which, to a strange, hollow, and confused noise, they heavily vanish

Pro. [Aside.] I had forgot that foul conspiracy Of the beast Caliban, and his confederates, Against my life; the minute of their plot

Is almost come.-[To the Spirits.] Well done ;-avoid;

-no more.

Fer. This is most strange : your father's in some passion That works him strongly.

Mira. Never till this day,

:

saw I him touch'd with anger so distemper'd.
Pro. You do look, my son, in a mov'd sort,
As if you were dismay'd be cheerful, sir:
Our revels now are ended: these our actors,
As I foretold you, were all spirits, and
Are melted into air, into thin air :

And, like the baseless fabric of this vision,
The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve;
And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,
Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff
As dreams are made of, and our little life

Is rounded with a sleep.-Sir, I am vex'd;

Bear with my weakness; my old brain is troubled.
Be not disturb'd with my infirmity:

If you be pleas'd, retire into my cell,

6) Rack-the last fleeting vestige of the highest clouds, scarce perceptible on Recount of their distance and tenuity. What was anciently called the rack, is now termed by sailors--the scud.

STEEV.

And there repose; a turn or two I'll walk,
To still my beating mind.

Fer. Mira. We wish your peace.

[Exeunt.

Pro. Come with a thought :-I thank you :- Ariel,

come.

Omita

Enter ARIEL.

Ari. Thy thoughts I cleave to: What's thy pleasure?
Pro. Spirit,

We must prepare to meet with Caliban.

Ari. Ay, my commander: when I presented Ceres,
I thought to have told thee of it; but I fear'd,

Lest I might anger thee.

Pro. Say again, where didst thou leave these, varlets?
Ari. I told you, sir, they were red-hot with drinking ;
So full of valour, that they smote the air

For breathing in their faces; beat the ground
For kissing of their feet: yet always bending
Towards their project: Then I beat my tabor,
At which, like unback'd colts, they prick'd their ears,
Advanc'd their eye-lids, lifted up their noses,
As they smelt music; so I charm'd their ears,
That, calf-like, they my lowing follow'd, through
Tooth'd briers, sharp furzes, pricking goss, and thorns,
Which enter'd their frail shins: at last I left them
I' th' filthy mantled pool beyond your cell,
There dancing up to the chins, that the foul lake
O'erstunk their feet.

Pro. This was well done, my bird:

Thy shape invisible retain thou still :

The trumpery in my house, go, bring it hither,
For stale to catch these thieves.

Ari. I go, I go.

Pro. A devil, a born devil, on whose nature
Nurture can never stick; on whom my pains,
Humanely taken, all, all lost, quite lost;
And as, with age, his body uglier grows,
So his mind cankers: I'will plague them all,
Re-enter ARIEL, loaden with glistering apparel, &c.
Even to roaring :-Come, hang them on this line.
PROSPERO and ARIEL remain invisible.

[Exit.

Enter CALIBAN,

STEPHANO, and TRINCULO, all wet.
Cal. Pray you, tread softly, that the blind mole may not

[7] State is a word in fowling, and means a bait or decoy.

STEEV.

Hear a foot fall: we now are near his cell.

Ste. Monster, your fairy, which, you say, is a harmless fairy, has done little better than play'd the Jack with us. Trin. Monster, I do smell all horse-piss; at which my nose is in great indignation.

Ste. So is mine. Do you hear, monster? If I should take a displeasure against you; look you,

Trin. Thou wert but a lost monster.

Cal. Good my lord, give me thy favour still: Be patient, for the prize I'll bring thee to

Shall hoodwink this mischance: therefore, speak softly, All's hush'd as midnight yet.

Trin. Ay, but to lose our bottles in the pool,

Ste. There is not only disgrace and dishonour in that, monster, but an infinite loss.

Trin. That's more to me than my wetting: yet this is your harmless fairy, monster.

for

Ste. I will fetch off my bottle, though I be o'er ears my labour.

Cal. Prythee, my king, be quiet: Seest thou here,
This is the mouth o' th' cell: no noise, and enter:
Do that good mischief, which may make this island
Thine own for ever, and I, thy Caliban,

For aye thy foot-licker.

Ste. Give me thy hand: I do begin to have bloody thoughts. Trin. O king Stephano! O peer! O worthy Stephano! Look, what a wardrobe here is for thee !

Cal. Let it alone, thou fool; it is but trash.

Trin. O ho, monster; we know what belongs to a frippery :-O king Stephano!

Ste. Put off that gown, Trinculo; by this hand, I'll have that gown.

Trin. Thy grace shall have it.

Cal. The dropsy drown this fool! what do you mean, To dote thus on such luggage? Let's along,

And do the murder first: if he awake,

From toe to crown he'll fill our skins with pinches ;
Make us strange stuff.

Ste. Be you quiet, monster.-Mistress line, is not this my jerkin? Now is the jerkin under the line: now, jerkin, you are like to lose your hair, and prove a bald jerkin.

[8] The humour of these lines consists in their being an allusion to an old celebrated ballad, which begins thus: King Stephen was a worthy peer-and celebrates that king's parsimony with regard to his wardrobe. WARB.