Ariel might have slumbered, and ever-verdant bowers, in which Ferdinand and Miranda might have strayed. So that Shakspeare, in blending the wild relations of the shipwrecked mariners with his own inspired fancies, has produced nothing, however lovely in nature and sublime in magical power, which does not harmonise with the beautiful and wondrous reality.

There is another circumstance connected with the Tempest, which is rather interesting. It was produced and acted for the first time upon the occasion of the nuptials of the Princess Elizabeth, the eldest daughter of James I. with Frederic, the elector palatine. It is hardly necessary to remind the reader of the fate of this amiable but most unhappy woman, whose life, almost from the period of her marriage, was one long tempestuous scene of trouble and adversity.

The characters which I have here classed together, as principally distinguished by the predominance of passion and fancy, appear to me to

What's dearest in the world! Full many a lady
I have eye'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 liked 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, O you,

So perfect and so peerless, are created
Of every creature's best.

MIRANDA.

I do not know

One of my sex: no woman's face remember,

Save, from my glass, mine own; nor have I seen

More that I

call man, may

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

Therein forget.

FERDINAND.

I am, in my condition

A prince, Miranda-I do think a king—

I would not so! and would no more endure

and immediately above this scene hung the soft crescent moon-alone, with all the bright heaven to herself: and as that sweet moon to the glowing landscape beneath it, such is the character of Miranda compared to that of Juliet.

END OF VOL. I.

LONDON:

IBOTSON AND PALMER, PRINTERS, SAVOY STREET, STRAND.

And prompt me, plain and holy innocence !
I am your wife, if you will marry me ;
If not I'll die your maid: to be your fellow
You may deny me; but I'll be your servant
Whether you will or no!

FERDINAND.

My mistress, dearest !

And I thus humble ever.

MIRANDA.

My husband, then?

FERDINAND.

Ay, with a heart as willing,

As bondage e'er of freedom. Here's my hand.

MIRANDA.

And mine with my heart in it. And now farewell

Till half an hour hence.

As Miranda, being what she is, could only have had a Ferdinand for her lover, and an Ariel for her attendant; so she could have had with propriety no other father than the majestic and gifted being, who fondly claims her as "a thread of his own life-nay, that for which he lives." Prospero, with his magical powers, his superhuman wisdom, his moral worth and grandeur, and his kingly dignity, is one of the most sublime visions that ever swept with ample robes, pale brow, and sceptred hand, before the eye of fancy. He controuls the invisible world, and works through the agency of spirits; not by any evil and forbidden compact, but solely by superior might of intellect-by potent spells gathered from the lore of ages, and abjured when he mingles again as a man with his fellow men. He is as distinct a being from the necromancers and astrologers celebrated in Shakspeare's age, as can well be imagined :* and all the wizards of poetry and fiction, even Faust and St.

* Such as Cornelius Agrippa, Michael Scott, Dr. Dee; the last was the cotemporary of Shakspeare.