F.D. Waldron, The Virgin Queen, a Drama in Five Acts; Attempted as a Sequel to Shakspeare’s Tempest. Printed for the Author, 1797.
Waldron (bap. 1743, d. 1818) was a fairly successful actor whose performed plays never achieved much praise or a long run. The Virgin Queen, published during the height of controversy over William Henry Ireland’s forgeries of Shakespeare, was never performed.
Act I, 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 y 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
My noble lord came here, it’s irksomeness;
But thou hast taught it me: then leave me not,
I pry’ythee! – take me hence! – I’ll lick thy feet,
And ever be obedient to control.
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 kind, be mov’d!
prospero.
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.
Act II, Scene II
THE DECK.
Stephano, Trinculo, and Caliban.
stephano.
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?
caliban.
I like it much! This is brave, fine god!
And bears us daintily; – how swift he is!
He scuds the ocean fleet as fawn the earth!
O, that my dam were living to behold him!
Grim Setebos she would renounce with scorn;
Low, prostrate, fall with me; and thus adore!
[kneeling.]
trinculo.
What’s I’ the wind, now, ’trow?
caliban.
Thou unmatch’d wonder! – miracle of pow’r!
Hear they vow’d vassal’s pray’r, and grant his suit!
Give me but vengeance on my tyrant lord,
(Whom, tho’ I feign’d repentance, I detest!)
And in these arms his daughter once to clip,
I’ll ever be thy bond-slave worshiper!
[Rising.
trinculo.
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.
[Caliban thinks he is drunk because his balance is impaired by the ship’s motion; the mariners make fun of him for this mistake.]
caliban.
Give me sack now! for I can but be drunk!
’Twill drown my fear, and make me full of mirth;
Give me some sack, I pr’ythee, ere I sleep!
stephano.
Here’s a flagon for you, fish! – the king in the cabin can’t drink better.
caliban.
’Tis passing good! a king ’twill make of me!
This shall my pillow be; – I’ll drink and sleep;
Nor dread sour Prosper, while of this I’ve store.
SINGS.
I gather’d ripe clusters of grapes from the vien,
Then champ’d ’em, and swill’d ’em, rejoic’d so to dine;
Yet, like a dull ass, was raid, beaten, and jeer’d,
Of adder, ape, urchin, and goblin afear’d!
But liquor celestial now, plenteous, I quaff.
At adder, ape, urchin, and goblin can laugh;
Ho, ho, ho; ho, ho, ho! I now should not fear,
Though Prosper and all his curst spirits were here.
Exeunt.
Caliban thinks the ship is a god.
Kiss.