THE VIRGIN QUEEN, A DRAMA IN FIVE ACTS; ATTEMPTED AS A SEQUEL TO SHAKSPEARE'S TEMPEST.
PRINTED FOR THE AUTHOR.
1797.
Entered at Stationers' Hall.
TO HIS GRACE FRANCIS GODOLPHIN, DUKE of LEEDS.
THE honour I have in being, by baptism, your Grace's namesake, a consequence of my being distantly related to FRANCIS Earl of GODOLPHIN, has emboldened me to dedicate to your Grace this weak essay at an imitation of our immortal SHAKSPEARE.
[Page]Having, my Lord, no incentive to the liberty I presume to take, but my respect for your Grace's taste and virtues, I should only sully the purity of my motive, were I to expatiate on them.
THE VIRGIN QUEEN.
PERSONS of the DRAMA.
- Alonso, king of Naples,
- Ferdinand, son to Alonso.
- Sebastian, brother to Alonso.
- Abdallah, king of Tunis.
- Prospero, duke of Milan.
- Antonio, brother to Prospero.
- Gonzalo,
- Adrian,
- Francisco,
- Stephano, a drunken butler.
- Ariel, a spirit.
- Trinculo, a jester.
- Caliban, a savage.
- Master,
- Boatswain,
- Claribel, queen of Tunis.
- Hyrea, a sorceress.
- Miranda, betroth'd to Ferdinand.
- Sycorax, a spirit.
- Spirits, Mariners, &c.
The SCENE is dispersed.
PROEM.
THE VIRGIN QUEEN.
ACT I.
SCENE I. PROSPERO'S ISLE.
SCENE II. ANOTHER PART OF THE ISLAND.
YARE! yare!—bear a hand with that stowage; here's a fresh breeze sprung up, and as fair for Italy as heart can wish.
And where's the wonder o'that?—did not the fairy promise old grey-beard as much?—and your true fairies are no courtiers.
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!
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 [Page 8]the devil in this: which he did, with a vengeance, when he wreck'd us on this isle of devils!
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!
Oh, oh, oh! deliver me from such a sight again!—boatswain! Trinculo! I have been so scared!
The conjuring duke has been sinking his necromancy-book to the bottom of the red-sea [Page 9]here—it can be no other!—breaking his magical-stick, 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!
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!
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.
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.
He don't intend, I hope, to take that landshark [Page 10]aboard;—an' he do not keep him in an iron cage, he'll devour all the ship's provisions, and tear us to pieces for more.
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.
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?
Ay, and after too; for I quake horribly with apprehension.
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!
Ay, spirits and hobgoblins!—'mercy on us! say I, and send us all safe to Naples!
SCENE III. ANOTHER PART OF THE ISLAND.
Come, bear a hand, ye bibbers! the king and company are just about to embark.
I told you, Trinculo, I'd get my bottle out of the pool;—here, lay to—
'Thank you, boy! a good voyage to us, and no hobgoblins!
Who have we here? my man-monster! and in a guarded jerkin?
The goblins stripp'd us, last night, of our share of the frippery; how cam'st thou still so bedeck'd, mooncalf?
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.
Belay this prating, and make for the beach; or ye'll be left astern.
Come along, Ban!—and, when we are aboard, I'll teach you how to pare your pig-nut nails, against you go a-wooing.
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!
SCENE IV. THE BEACH.
ACT II.
SCENE I. A CABIN IN THE KING OF NAPLES' SHIP AT SEA
SCENE II. THE DECK.
NOW, Ban! how do you stomach sailing? is't not rare to skim like a gull thus, 'twixt wind and water? how dost like it, eh?
So! the apostate has got him a new idol, Stephano; you may return to your dog and bush again; he'll worship you no more.
What means this giddiness?—I cannot stand!
And note, if the moon-calf be not drunk too!
Out, you ninny!—'tis only the ship's motion makes him stagger so; as it did me erewhile.
By'r lady, and so it may;—but a sherris-sack was mix'd with the ship's motion when you caught the staggers.
Why, surely, the shallow-brain'd ideot thinks himself drunk indeed!
A rare conceit!—we'll humour it;—and, while he is napping, if we can find the old necromancer in the mood, try to get off keeping watch here at night.
Agreed.—Come along, you drunken owl! and we'll lead you where you may roost in safety, 'till your are sober.
But am I drunk in sooth?—I pr'yshee, say!
Drunk, quotha? there's a question!—ay-reeling-ripe, as when the piping sairy led us by [Page 31]the ears into the pool; then, indeed, it was with sack: now, only with the ship's motion:—but a small matter will turn a weak head!
Here's a flaggon for you, fish!—the king in the cabin can't drink better.
SCENE III. THE KING'S CABIN.
There, there he is!—we have caught him alone at last.—Now to try if we can get off keeping watch!—He seems but in a crabbed humour tho;—if I had not taken a cheering draught, I should not dare to accost him.
He can't conjure the cramp into us now, you know;—so, we may venture safe enough:— hem!—may it please your highness—
And may t'other place keep lock'd-up all the ghosts, devils, and hobgoblins!
O lord! that's the very place we want to shun! —it's almost sunset;—and I would not stay upon deck when 'tis dark to be duke of Milan.
Nor I, though I might marry your highness's fair daughter.
The monster is now sleeping off his drunkenness;—good your grace! let him watch while we sleep off ours.
So drunk, an't please you! that we were forc'd [Page 37]to lead him to his kennel; where he lay, cursing your highness, and swallowing sack, 'till he fell fast asleep.
O for a whirlwind now, to carry us out of his unmerciful clutches!
So, we must e'en go upon deck at last! in spite of all our wise schemes to prevent it!—if the devil or his dam should pay us a visit in the night, what will become of us, Stephano?
Oh, never heed!—the monster is to be with us;—and companions in distress make sorrow the less:—I don't care for the old one himself, when I am in good company: do you, mooncalf?
'Mass! I'm as much afraid of him now, as I was before of hobgoblins.
Fellow Trinculo, we'll watch 'till he's asleep again; then muzzle, and lash him to the main-mast: where he may growl his fill, and we not fear him.
A match!—I'll make the muzzle, and you shall put it on.
Come, servant-monster! don't fall out with your man-i'-the-moon-god! I'll warrant you get no harm upon deck;—you shall have my cloak to sleep on, and Trinculo's to cover you; with your skin full of sack to keep the cold out: and tomorrow we'll devise some rare revenge against this old crabstock, Prospero.
Cheer up, then!—and, to drive away care, I'll troul the catch you are so fond of.—I made it myself, when I was in the bilboes with some more jolly lads; for railing, in our cups, against duke Anthonio: who was proxy for the tawny-moor king of Tunis, at our princess Claribel's marriage at Naples.
I remember it!—you said, tho' his skin was whiter, you believ'd his heart was as dingy as king Abdallah's face—so, sing away, boy! and we'll bear the burthen.
ACT III.
SCENE I. THE DECK, by moonlight.
On one part, Sebastian and Anthonio, walking to and fro; at another, Stephano and Trinculo, at work; Caliban asleep near them: a Mariner, keeping watch.
Well sung, i'faith! though it almost lull'd me asleep.—Come, Trinculo, have not you
ACT IV.
SCENE I. A GROVE IN PROSPERO'S ISLE; THE SEA IN VIEW.
SCENE II. A BEAUTIFUL COUNTRY.
SCENE III. THE SEA-BEACH.
WHAT a tedious time these lubbers are, making the boat fast!—'would they were come! my belly cries cupboard most voraciously; and I dare not stir a foot up the country to look for food by myself, for fear of tumbling into such a pit as Caliban talk'd of in his fleep; which that fury, Sycorax, may have dug for the cross old duke!
By the mass, Trinculo, I would not stand in his shoes, though they be made of velvet, for his whole dukedom! I warrant she and her imps will give him a warm reception! boiling in lead or oil is the least he can expect!
Come, my hearts! now the ship's moor'd, and the boat haul'd ashore, let's take a landcruise in chace of some provision.
I'faith, master, my belly clings together like an empty satchel! if we had not found land here, we should have been pretty sharp set before we reach'd Naples; and forc'd to draw lots for a slice of one another.
Not whilst we had such sack as this aboard; he that could not sail all the world over, with this for his comfort, ought never to taste good liquor while he breath'd at nostrils.
That may do with you, honest butler; but we want something more substantial.—Come, let us go in a body, in case of meeting wild beasts, or savages; and see what this land produces:— tend to the Boatswain's whistle!
Come, bear a hand, bear a hand, my hearts! a heigh!
You may bear a hand by yourself, for me!— I shall neither bear a hand, nor budge a foot, while this lasts.—I don't care for roaming any farther up this coast, for fear of meeting that [Page 84]she-devil, Sycorax; or that devil's imp, her son!—should he find nothing else eatable ashore, he'll make no bones of one or two of us!
For that reason, we ought to keep all together; that we may make the better defence against him.
Come, heave a head, you lubber! let us steer upward; it looks like a plentiful country:—if inhabited, we may not only get provision, but a willing wench into the bargain.
That thought 'rouses me—a wench, a heigh! O, that I could but meet my queen, that was to be, the sour duke's sweet daughter; I am in a rare cue for courtship!
Mass! I am in a better for a meal's meat! and would exchange the daintiest duke's daughter in Christendom, ay, and Barbary to boot, for a good belly-full!
As the old conjuror is certainly made away with, by this time; if we can but 'scape witchcraft [Page 85]and cannibals, and my queen and I settle preliminaries, who knows but I may erect a new monarchy here:—if so, look to be great men, all of you!
ACT V.
SCENE I. A RETIRED GROVE.
Go to! I know you are queen of Tunis;— the fitter to be my spouse:—for, I intend to be king of this new-discover'd country.
Bully monster! hast thou been looking for a consort too, and lighted upon my queen o'the island, that was to be?—all's one!—madam Claribel will serve my turn, and she is a queen ready-made to my hands.
Come, mooncalf, now the she-fire-drake is gone, have a sup of my bottle; she scared me out of my seven senses with her quaint jarring, or she should not have taken away my queen-elect.
Go thy ways for a blood-thirsty, and most monstrous monster! when I was pot-valiant once, indeed, I had some notion of knocking out the old conjuror's brains myself;—but, now that [Page 95]I am sober, I can't bear the thought of murder! no, not even manslaughter! so, that I may n't be an accessary, I'll e'en go look after our ship, the fury said was o' fire; and, if it be not burnt, get aboard again, as fast as I can paddle the boat, or oar myself to it!
Oh, Stephano! Stephano! what will become of us, Stephano? we are undone for ever! left upon this outlandish place, to live upon hips and haws, crab-apples, and pignuts, as long as such trash will keep life and soul together!
Why, what a murrain! the ship is not really burnt; is it, Trinculo?
Every stick and thread of it! as we were going aboard, to wash down our wild breakfast with a draught of sack; not being able to find the boat again, we waited 'till the tide should ebb, and leave the ship aground; which it had no sooner done, than a legion of devils slew over our heads, set fire to her, and, in a moment, tore her all to pieces, like a handful of lighted flax!
Mayhap they'll make lighted flax of us next!— what a villainous voyage we have made on't!— my wine is all gone,—I am dry as tinder, and shall burn like touchwood! this is all owing to the duke's drowning his magical book, and breaking his conjuring stick:—if he had but them, safe and sound, he'd be a match for the old-one himself!
Oh, lord! oh, lord! the devils are coming here now!
Are they? why then they may burn my wooden bottle, for there's nothing in it; and the devil take the hindmost!
SCENE II. THE BEACH.
Let Silence reign!