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William Shakespeare
231
denne Tale, i hvilken Shakespeare selv gennem
Prosperos pragtfulde Veltalenhed tager Afsked med sin
Kunst og nævner, hvad han ved den har formaaet. Som
Grundlag for denne Replik har Shakespeare - som
Warburton først har gjort opmærksom paa - brugt den
Besværgelsestale, som i O vid s Forvandlinger (VII
197-219) efter Jasons Erobring af det gyldne Skind
Medea holder til Nattens Aander i den Hensigt paa sin
Elskedes Bøn at skaffe hans gamle Fader en Forlængelse
af Livet. Shakespeare har havt Goldings Oversættelse
af det latinske Digterværk for sig. Udhæver man
Overensstemmelserne med hans egen Tekst, levnes der
ingen Tvivl om Benyttelsen. Stedet lyder hos Golding:
Ye A3rres and Windes: y e Elues o f Hilles, of Brooks,
o f Woods alone,
Of standing Lakes, and of the Night approche ye
everyone
Through helpe of whom (the crooked bankes much
wondring at the thing)
I haue compelled streames to run cleane backward to
their spring.
By charmes I make the calrne seas rough,
and make the rough seas
playne
And cover all the Skie with clouds and chase them
thence againe. By charmes I raise and lay the urindes
and burst the Vipers iaw. And from the bowels of
the earth both stones and trees do draw. Whole woods
and Forrests I remoouve: I make the Mountains shake,
And euen the earth it selfe to grone and fearefully
to quake. I call up dead men from their grau.es and
thee, O lightsome Moone, I darken oft, through beaten
brass abate thy perill soone. OUT Sorcerie dimmes
the Morning faire, and darkes the Sun at Noone.
#.*** .**»H*É* »»*#»#*
* * tt »
. *
Among the earth-bred brothers you a mortall warre
did set And brought asleepe the Dragon fell whose
eyes were neuer shet.
Den tilsvarende Replik i Stormen har denne Ordlyd:
Ye elves of Mils, brooks} standing lakes, and groves;
And ye that on the sands with printless foot Do chase
the ebbing Neptune, and do fly him
Whem he comes back; you......." . .
..........by whose aid -
Weak masters though ye be - I have bedimm’d The
noontide sun, call’d forth the mutinous winds, And
twixt the green sea and the azur’d vault Set roaring
war: to the dread-rattling thuhder Have I given fire,
and rifted Jove’s stout oak With his own bolt: the
strong-bas’d promontory Have I made shake; and by
the spurs pluck’d up
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