The Tempest/Source

DRAMATIS PERSONAE (Persons Represented):


 * ALONSO, King of Naples
 * SEBASTIAN, his Brother
 * PROSPERO, the right Duke of Milan
 * ANTONIO, his Brother, the usurping Duke of Milan
 * FERDINAND, Son to the King of Naples
 * GONZALO, an honest old counselor
 * ADRIAN, Lord
 * FRANCISCO, Lord
 * CALIBAN, a savage and deformed Slave
 * TRINCULO, a Jester
 * STEPHANO, a drunken Butler
 * MASTER OF A SHIP
 * BOATSWAIN
 * MARINERS


 * MIRANDA, Daughter to Prospero


 * ARIEL, an airy Spirit


 * IRIS, represented by Spirits
 * CERES, represented by Spirits
 * JUNO, represented by Spirits
 * NYMPHS, represented by Spirits
 * REAPERS, represented by Spirits
 * DOGS, represented by Spirits


 * Other Spirits attending on Prospero

SCENE: The sea, with a Ship; afterwards an Island

THE TEMPEST

SCENE 1
[On a ship at sea; a tempestuous noise of thunder and lightning heard]

[Enter a SHIPMASTER and a BOATSWAIN severally]

MASTER.
 * Boatswain!

BOATSWAIN.
 * Here, master: what cheer?

MASTER.
 * Good! Speak to the mariners: fall to't yarely, or
 * we run ourselves aground: bestir, bestir.

[Exit]

[Enter MARINERS]

BOATSWAIN.
 * Heigh, my hearts! cheerly, cheerly, my hearts!
 * yare, yare! Take in the topsail. Tend to th' master's
 * whistle.—Blow till thou burst thy wind, if room enough.

[Enter ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, FERDINAND, GONZALO, and
 * OTHERS]

ALONSO.
 * Good boatswain, have care. Where's the master?
 * Play the men.

BOATSWAIN.
 * I pray now, keep below.

ANTONIO.
 * Where is the master, boson?

BOATSWAIN.
 * Do you not hear him? You mar our labour:
 * keep your cabins: you do assist the storm.

GONZALO.
 * Nay, good, be patient.

BOATSWAIN.
 * When the sea is. Hence! What cares these
 * roarers for the name of king? To cabin! silence! Trouble
 * us not.

GONZALO.
 * Good, yet remember whom thou hast aboard.

BOATSWAIN.
 * None that I more love than myself. You are
 * counsellor: if you can command these elements to
 * silence, and work the peace of the present, we will not
 * hand a rope more. Use your authority: if you cannot, give
 * thanks you have lived so long, and make yourself ready
 * in your cabin for the mischance of the hour, if it so
 * hap.—Cheerly, good hearts!—Out of our way, I say.

[Exit]

GONZALO.
 * I have great comfort from this fellow. Methinks
 * he hath no drowning mark upon him: his complexion is
 * perfect gallows. Stand fast, good Fate, to his hanging!
 * make the rope of his destiny our cable, for our own doth
 * little advantage! If he be not born to be hang'd, our
 * case is miserable.

[Exeunt]

[Re-enter BOATSWAIN]

BOATSWAIN.
 * Down with the topmast! yare! lower, lower!
 * Bring her to try wi' th' maincourse. [A cry within] A
 * plague upon this howling! They are louder than the
 * weather or our office.—

[Re-enter SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, and GONZALO]

Yet again! What do you here? Shall we give o'er, and
 * drown? Have you a mind to sink?

SEBASTIAN.
 * A pox o' your throat, you bawling, blasphemous,
 * incharitable dog!

BOATSWAIN.
 * Work you, then.

ANTONIO.
 * Hang, cur, hang! you whoreson, insolent noisemaker,
 * we are less afraid to be drowned than thou art.

GONZALO.
 * I'll warrant him for drowning, though the ship were
 * no stronger than a nutshell, and as leaky as an unstanched
 * wench.

BOATSWAIN.
 * Lay her a-hold, a-hold! set her two courses: off
 * to sea again: lay her off.

[Enter MARINERS, Wet]

MARINERS.
 * All lost! to prayers, to prayers! all lost!

[Exeunt]

BOATSWAIN.
 * What, must our mouths be cold?

GONZALO.
 * The King and Prince at prayers! let us assist them,
 * For our case is as theirs.

SEBASTIAN.
 * I am out of patience.

ANTONIO.
 * We are merely cheated of our lives by drunkards.—
 * This wide-chapp'd rascal—would thou might'st lie drowning
 * The washing of ten tides!

GONZALO.
 * He'll be hang'd yet,
 * Though every drop of water swear against it,
 * And gape at wid'st to glut him.

[A confused noise within:—'Mercy on us!'—
 * 'We split, we split!'—'Farewell, my wife and children!'—
 * 'Farewell, brother!'—'We split, we split, we split!'—]

ANTONIO.
 * Let's all sink wi' the King.

[Exit]

SEBASTIAN.
 * Let's take leave of him.

[Exit]

GONZALO.
 * Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea for
 * an acre of barren ground; long heath, brown furze, any
 * thing. The wills above be done! but I would fain die
 * dry death.

[Exit]

SCENE 2
[The Island. Before the cell of PROSPERO]

[Enter PROSPERO and MIRANDA]

MIRANDA.
 * If by your art, my dearest father, you have
 * Put the wild waters in this roar, allay them.
 * The sky, it seems, would pour down stinking pitch,
 * But that the sea, mounting to th' welkin's cheek,
 * Dashes the fire out. O! I have suffered
 * With those that I saw suffer: a brave vessel,
 * Who had, no doubt, some noble creatures in her,
 * Dash'd all to pieces. O! the cry did knock
 * Against my very heart. Poor souls, they perish'd.
 * Had I been any god of power, I would
 * Have sunk the sea within the earth, or e'er
 * It should the good ship so have swallow'd and
 * The fraughting souls within her.

PROSPERO.
 * Be collected:
 * No more amazement: tell your piteous heart
 * There's no harm done.

MIRANDA.
 * O! woe the day!

PROSPERO.
 * No harm.
 * I have done nothing but in care of thee,
 * Of thee, my dear one, thee, my daughter, who
 * Art ignorant of what thou art, nought knowing
 * Of whence I am: nor that I am more better
 * Than Prospero, master of a full poor cell,
 * And thy no greater father.

MIRANDA.
 * More to know
 * Did never meddle with my thoughts.

PROSPERO.
 * 'Tis time
 * I should inform thee farther. Lend thy hand,
 * And pluck my magic garment from me.—So:

[Lays down his mantle]


 * Lie there my art.—Wipe thou thine eyes; have comfort.
 * The direful spectacle of the wrack, which touch'd
 * The very virtue of compassion in thee,
 * I have with such provision in mine art
 * So safely ordered that there is no soul—
 * No, not so much perdition as an hair
 * Betid to any creature in the vessel
 * Which thou heard'st cry, which thou saw'st sink. Sit down;
 * For thou must now know farther.

MIRANDA.
 * You have often
 * Begun to tell me what I am: but stopp'd,
 * And left me to a bootless inquisition,
 * Concluding 'Stay; not yet.'

PROSPERO.
 * The hour's now come,
 * The very minute bids thee ope thine ear;
 * Obey, and be attentive. Canst thou remember
 * A time before we came unto this cell?
 * I do not think thou canst: for then thou wast not
 * Out three years old.

MIRANDA.
 * Certainly, sir, I can.

PROSPERO.
 * By what? By any other house, or person?
 * Of any thing the image, tell me, that
 * Hath kept with thy remembrance.

MIRANDA.
 * 'Tis far off,
 * And rather like a dream than an assurance
 * That my remembrance warrants. Had I not
 * Four, or five, women once, that tended me?

PROSPERO.
 * Thou hadst, and more, Miranda. But how is it
 * That this lives in thy mind? What seest thou else
 * In the dark backward and abysm of time?
 * If thou rememb'rest aught ere thou cam'st here,
 * How thou cam'st here, thou mayst.

MIRANDA.
 * But that I do not.

PROSPERO.
 * Twelve year since, Miranda, twelve year since,
 * Thy father was the Duke of Milan, and
 * A prince of power.

MIRANDA.
 * Sir, are not you my father?

PROSPERO.
 * Thy mother was a piece of virtue, and
 * She said thou wast my daughter: and thy father
 * Was Duke of Milan, and his only heir
 * And princess,—no worse issued.

MIRANDA.
 * O, the heavens!
 * What foul play had we that we came from thence?
 * Or blessed was't we did?

PROSPERO.
 * Both, both, my girl.
 * By foul play, as thou say'st, were we heav'd thence;
 * But blessedly holp hither.

MIRANDA.
 * O! my heart bleeds
 * To think o' th' teen that I have turn'd you to,
 * Which is from my remembrance. Please you, further.

PROSPERO.
 * My brother and thy uncle, call'd Antonio—
 * I pray thee, mark me,—that a brother should
 * Be so perfidious!—he, whom next thyself,
 * Of all the world I lov'd, and to him put
 * The manage of my state; as at that time
 * Through all the signories it was the first,
 * And Prospero the prime duke, being so reputed
 * In dignity, and for the liberal arts,
 * Without a parallel: those being all my study,
 * The government I cast upon my brother,
 * And to my state grew stranger, being transported
 * And rapt in secret studies. Thy false uncle—
 * Dost thou attend me?

MIRANDA.
 * Sir, most heedfully.

PROSPERO.
 * Being once perfected how to grant suits,
 * How to deny them, who t' advance, and who
 * To trash for over-topping; new created
 * The creatures that were mine, I say, or chang'd 'em,
 * Or else new form'd 'em: having both the key
 * Of officer and office, set all hearts i' th' state
 * To what tune pleas'd his ear: that now he was
 * The ivy which had hid my princely trunk,
 * And suck'd my verdure out on't.—Thou attend'st not.

MIRANDA.
 * O, good sir! I do.

PROSPERO.
 * I pray thee, mark me.
 * I thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicated
 * To closeness and the bettering of my mind
 * With that, which, but by being so retir'd,
 * O'er-priz'd all popular rate, in my false brother
 * Awak'd an evil nature; and my trust,
 * Like a good parent, did beget of him
 * A falsehood, in its contrary as great
 * As my trust was; which had indeed no limit,
 * A confidence sans bound. He being thus lorded,
 * Not only with what my revenue yielded,
 * But what my power might else exact,—like one
 * Who having, into truth, by telling of it,
 * Made such a sinner of his memory,
 * To credit his own lie,—he did believe
 * He was indeed the Duke; out o' the substitution,
 * And executing th' outward face of royalty,
 * With all prerogative.—Hence his ambition growing—
 * Dost thou hear?

MIRANDA.
 * Your tale, sir, would cure deafness.

PROSPERO.
 * To have no screen between this part he play'd
 * And him he play'd it for, he needs will be
 * Absolute Milan. Me, poor man—my library
 * Was dukedom large enough: of temporal royalties
 * He thinks me now incapable; confederates,—
 * So dry he was for sway,—wi' th' King of Naples
 * To give him annual tribute, do him homage;
 * Subject his coronet to his crown, and bend
 * The dukedom, yet unbow'd—alas, poor Milan!—
 * To most ignoble stooping.

MIRANDA.
 * O the heavens!

PROSPERO.
 * Mark his condition, and the event; then tell me
 * If this might be a brother.

MIRANDA.
 * I should sin
 * To think but nobly of my grandmother:
 * Good wombs have borne bad sons.

PROSPERO.
 * Now the condition.
 * This King of Naples, being an enemy
 * To me inveterate, hearkens my brother's suit;
 * Which was, that he, in lieu o' the premises
 * Of homage and I know not how much tribute,
 * Should presently extirpate me and mine
 * Out of the dukedom, and confer fair Milan,
 * With all the honours on my brother: whereon,
 * A treacherous army levied, one midnight
 * Fated to the purpose, did Antonio open
 * The gates of Milan; and, i' th' dead of darkness,
 * The ministers for th' purpose hurried thence
 * Me and thy crying self.

MIRANDA.
 * Alack, for pity!
 * I, not rememb'ring how I cried out then,
 * Will cry it o'er again: it is a hint
 * That wrings mine eyes to't.

PROSPERO.
 * Hear a little further,
 * And then I'll bring thee to the present business
 * Which now's upon us; without the which this story
 * Were most impertinent.

MIRANDA.
 * Wherefore did they not
 * That hour destroy us?

PROSPERO.
 * Well demanded, wench:
 * My tale provokes that question. Dear, they durst not,
 * So dear the love my people bore me, nor set
 * A mark so bloody on the business; but
 * With colours fairer painted their foul ends.
 * In few, they hurried us aboard a bark,
 * Bore us some leagues to sea, where they prepared
 * A rotten carcass of a boat, not rigg'd,
 * Nor tackle, sail, nor mast: the very rats
 * Instinctively have quit it. There they hoist us,
 * To cry to th' sea, that roar'd to us: to sigh
 * To th' winds, whose pity, sighing back again,
 * Did us but loving wrong.

MIRANDA.
 * Alack! what trouble
 * Was I then to you!

PROSPERO.
 * O, a cherubin
 * Thou wast that did preserve me! Thou didst smile,
 * Infused with a fortitude from heaven,
 * When I have deck'd the sea with drops full salt,
 * Under my burden groan'd: which rais'd in me
 * An undergoing stomach, to bear up
 * Against what should ensue.

MIRANDA.
 * How came we ashore?

PROSPERO.
 * By Providence divine.
 * Some food we had and some fresh water that
 * A noble Neapolitan, Gonzalo,
 * Out of his charity,—who being then appointed
 * Master of this design,—did give us, with
 * Rich garments, linens, stuffs, and necessaries,
 * Which since have steaded much: so, of his gentleness,
 * Knowing I lov'd my books, he furnish'd me,
 * From mine own library with volumes that
 * I prize above my dukedom.

MIRANDA.
 * Would I might
 * But ever see that man!

PROSPERO.
 * Now I arise:—

[Resumes his mantle]

Sit still, and hear the last of our sea-sorrow.
 * Here in this island we arriv'd: and here
 * Have I, thy schoolmaster, made thee more profit
 * Than other princes can, that have more time
 * For vainer hours, and tutors not so careful.

MIRANDA.
 * Heavens thank you for't! And now, I pray you, sir,—
 * For still 'tis beating in my mind,—your reason
 * For raising this sea-storm?

PROSPERO.
 * Know thus far forth.
 * By accident most strange, bountiful Fortune,
 * Now my dear lady, hath mine enemies
 * Brought to this shore; and by my prescience
 * I find my zenith doth depend upon
 * A most auspicious star, whose influence
 * If now I court not but omit, my fortunes
 * Will ever after droop. Here cease more questions;
 * Thou art inclin'd to sleep; 'tis a good dulness,
 * And give it way;—I know thou canst not choose.—

[MIRANDA sleeps]

Come away, servant, come! I am ready now.
 * Approach, my Ariel; Come!

[Enter ARIEL]

ARIEL.
 * All hail, great master! grave sir, hail! I come
 * To answer thy best pleasure; be't to fly,
 * To swim, to dive into the fire, to ride
 * On the curl'd clouds; to thy strong bidding task
 * Ariel and all his quality.

PROSPERO.
 * Hast thou, spirit,
 * Perform'd to point the tempest that I bade thee?

ARIEL.
 * To every article.
 * I boarded the King's ship; now on the beak,
 * Now in the waist, the deck, in every cabin,
 * I flam'd amazement; sometime I'd divide,
 * And burn in many places; on the topmast,
 * The yards, and boresprit, would I flame distinctly,
 * Then meet and join: Jove's lightning, the precursors
 * O' th' dreadful thunder-claps, more momentary
 * And sight-outrunning were not: the fire and cracks
 * Of sulphurous roaring the most mighty Neptune
 * Seem to besiege and make his bold waves tremble,
 * Yea, his dread trident shake.

PROSPERO.
 * My brave spirit!
 * Who was so firm, so constant, that this coil
 * Would not infect his reason?

ARIEL.
 * Not a soul
 * But felt a fever of the mad, and play'd
 * Some tricks of desperation. All but mariners
 * Plunged in the foaming brine and quit the vessel,
 * Then all afire with me: the King's son, Ferdinand,
 * With hair up-staring—then like reeds, not hair—
 * Was the first man that leapt; cried 'Hell is empty,
 * And all the devils are here.'

PROSPERO.
 * Why, that's my spirit!
 * But was not this nigh shore?

ARIEL.
 * Close by, my master.

PROSPERO.
 * But are they, Ariel, safe?

ARIEL.
 * Not a hair perish'd;
 * On their sustaining garments not a blemish,
 * But fresher than before: and, as thou bad'st me,
 * In troops I have dispers'd them 'bout the isle.
 * The king's son have I landed by himself,
 * Whom I left cooling of the air with sighs
 * In an odd angle of the isle, and sitting,
 * His arms in this sad knot.

PROSPERO.
 * Of the King's ship
 * The mariners, say how thou hast dispos'd,
 * And all the rest o' th' fleet?

ARIEL.
 * Safely in harbour
 * Is the King's ship; in the deep nook, where once
 * Thou call'dst me up at midnight to fetch dew
 * From the still-vex'd Bermoothes; there she's hid:
 * The mariners all under hatches stowed;
 * Who, with a charm join'd to their suff'red labour,
 * I have left asleep: and for the rest o' th' fleet
 * Which I dispers'd, they all have met again,
 * And are upon the Mediterranean flote
 * Bound sadly home for Naples,
 * Supposing that they saw the king's ship wrack'd,
 * And his great person perish.

PROSPERO.
 * Ariel, thy charge
 * Exactly is perform'd; but there's more work:
 * What is the time o' th' day?

ARIEL.
 * Past the mid season.

PROSPERO.
 * At least two glasses. The time 'twixt six and now
 * Must by us both be spent most preciously.

ARIEL.
 * Is there more toil? Since thou dost give me pains,
 * Let me remember thee what thou hast promis'd,
 * Which is not yet perform'd me.

PROSPERO.
 * How now! moody?
 * What is't thou canst demand?

ARIEL.
 * My liberty.

PROSPERO.
 * Before the time be out! No more!

ARIEL.
 * I prithee,
 * Remember I have done thee worthy service;
 * Told thee no lies, made no mistakings, serv'd
 * Without or grudge or grumblings: thou didst promise
 * To bate me a full year.

PROSPERO.
 * Dost thou forget
 * From what a torment I did free thee?

ARIEL.
 * No.

PROSPERO.
 * Thou dost; and think'st it much to tread the ooze
 * Of the salt deep,
 * To run upon the sharp wind of the north,
 * To do me business in the veins o' th' earth
 * When it is bak'd with frost.

ARIEL.
 * I do not, sir.

PROSPERO.
 * Thou liest, malignant thing! Hast thou forgot
 * The foul witch Sycorax, who with age and envy
 * Was grown into a hoop? Hast thou forgot her?

ARIEL.
 * No, sir.

PROSPERO.
 * Thou hast. Where was she born?
 * Speak; tell me.

ARIEL.
 * Sir, in Argier.

PROSPERO.
 * O! was she so? I must
 * Once in a month recount what thou hast been,
 * Which thou forget'st. This damn'd witch Sycorax,
 * For mischiefs manifold, and sorceries terrible
 * To enter human hearing, from Argier,
 * Thou know'st,was banish'd: for one thing she did
 * They would not take her life. Is not this true?

ARIEL.
 * Ay, sir.

PROSPERO.
 * This blue-ey'd hag was hither brought with child,
 * And here was left by the sailors. Thou, my slave,
 * As thou report'st thyself, wast then her servant:
 * And, for thou wast a spirit too delicate
 * To act her earthy and abhorr'd commands,
 * Refusing her grand hests, she did confine thee,
 * By help of her more potent ministers,
 * And in her most unmitigable rage,
 * Into a cloven pine; within which rift
 * Imprison'd, thou didst painfully remain
 * A dozen years; within which space she died,
 * And left thee there, where thou didst vent thy groans
 * As fast as mill-wheels strike. Then was this island—
 * Save for the son that she did litter here,
 * A freckl'd whelp, hag-born—not honour'd with
 * A human shape.

ARIEL.
 * Yes; Caliban her son.

PROSPERO.
 * Dull thing, I say so; he, that Caliban,
 * Whom now I keep in service. Thou best know'st
 * What torment I did find thee in; thy groans
 * Did make wolves howl, and penetrate the breasts
 * Of ever-angry bears: it was a torment
 * To lay upon the damn'd, which Sycorax
 * Could not again undo; it was mine art,
 * When I arriv'd and heard thee, that made gape
 * The pine, and let thee out.

ARIEL.
 * I thank thee, master.

PROSPERO.
 * If thou more murmur'st, I will rend an oak
 * And peg thee in his knotty entrails till
 * Thou hast howl'd away twelve winters.

ARIEL.
 * Pardon, master:
 * I will be correspondent to command,
 * And do my spriting gently.

PROSPERO.
 * Do so; and after two days
 * I will discharge thee.

ARIEL.
 * That's my noble master!
 * What shall I do? Say what? What shall I do?

PROSPERO.
 * Go make thyself like a nymph o' th' sea: be subject
 * To no sight but thine and mine; invisible
 * To every eyeball else. Go, take this shape,
 * And hither come in 't: go, hence with diligence!

[Exit ARIEL]


 * Awake, dear heart, awake! thou hast slept well;
 * Awake!

MIRANDA.
 * [Waking] The strangeness of your story put
 * Heaviness in me.

PROSPERO.
 * Shake it off. Come on;
 * We'll visit Caliban my slave, who never
 * Yields us kind answer.

MIRANDA.
 * 'Tis a villain, sir,
 * I do not love to look on.

PROSPERO.
 * But as 'tis,
 * We cannot miss him: he does make our fire,
 * Fetch in our wood; and serves in offices
 * That profit us.—What ho! slave! Caliban!
 * Thou earth, thou! Speak.

CALIBAN.
 * [Within] There's wood enough within.

PROSPERO.
 * Come forth, I say; there's other business for thee:
 * Come, thou tortoise! when?

[Re-enter ARIEL like a water-nymph.]

Fine apparition! My quaint Ariel,
 * Hark in thine ear.

ARIEL.
 * My lord, it shall be done.

[Exit]

PROSPERO.
 * Thou poisonous slave, got by the devil himself
 * Upon thy wicked dam, come forth!

[Enter CALIBAN]

CALIBAN.
 * As wicked dew as e'er my mother brush'd
 * With raven's feather from unwholesome fen
 * Drop on you both! A south-west blow on ye,
 * And blister you all o'er!

PROSPERO.
 * For this, be sure, to-night thou shalt have cramps,
 * Side-stitches that shall pen thy breath up; urchins
 * Shall forth at vast of night that they may work
 * All exercise on thee: thou shalt be pinch'd
 * As thick as honeycomb, each pinch more stinging
 * Than bees that made them.

CALIBAN.
 * I must eat my dinner.
 * This island's mine, by Sycorax my mother,
 * Which thou tak'st from me. When thou cam'st first,
 * Thou strok'st me and made much of me; wouldst give me
 * Water with berries in't; and teach me how
 * To name the bigger light, and how the less,
 * That burn by day and night: and then I lov'd thee,
 * And show'd thee all the qualities o' th' isle,
 * The fresh springs, brine-pits, barren place, and fertile.
 * Curs'd be I that did so! All the charms
 * Of Sycorax, toads, beetles, bats, light on you!
 * For I am all the subjects that you have,
 * Which first was mine own king; and here you sty me
 * In this hard rock, whiles you do keep from me
 * The rest o' th' island.

PROSPERO.
 * Thou most lying slave,
 * Whom stripes may move, not kindness! I have us'd thee,
 * Filth as thou art, with human care, and lodg'd thee
 * In mine own cell, till thou didst seek to violate
 * The honour of my child.

CALIBAN.
 * Oh ho! Oh ho! Would it had been done!
 * Thou didst prevent me; I had peopl'd else
 * This isle with Calibans.

PROSPERO.
 * Abhorred slave,
 * Which any print of goodness wilt not take,
 * Being capable of all ill! I pitied thee,
 * Took pains to make thee speak, taught thee each hour
 * One thing or other: when thou didst not, savage,
 * Know thine own meaning, but wouldst gabble like
 * A thing most brutish, I endow'd thy purposes
 * With words that made them known: but thy vile race,
 * Though thou didst learn, had that in't which good natures
 * Could not abide to be with; therefore wast thou
 * Deservedly confin'd into this rock, who hadst
 * Deserv'd more than a prison.

CALIBAN.
 * You taught me language, and my profit on't
 * Is, I know how to curse: the red plague rid you,
 * For learning me your language!

PROSPERO.
 * Hag-seed, hence!
 * Fetch us in fuel; and be quick, thou 'rt best,
 * To answer other business. Shrug'st thou, malice?
 * If thou neglect'st, or dost unwillingly
 * What I command, I'll rack thee with old cramps,
 * Fill all thy bones with aches; make thee roar,
 * That beasts shall tremble at thy din.

CALIBAN.
 * No, pray thee.—
 * [Aside] I must obey. His art is of such power,
 * It would control my dam's god, Setebos,
 * And make a vassal of him.

PROSPERO.
 * So, slave: hence!

[Exit CALIBAN]

[Re-enter ARIEL invisible, playing and singing;
 * FERDINAND following]

[ARIEL'S SONG.]


 * Come unto these yellow sands,
 * And then take hands:
 * Curtsied when you have, and kiss'd,—
 * The wild waves whist,—
 * Foot it featly here and there;
 * And, sweet sprites, the burden bear.
 * Hark, hark!
 * [Burden: Bow, wow, dispersedly.]
 * The watch dogs bark:
 * [Burden: Bow, wow, dispersedly.]
 * Hark, hark! I hear
 * The strain of strutting Chanticleer
 * [Cry, Cock-a-diddle-dow.]

FERDINAND.
 * Where should this music be? i' th' air or th' earth?
 * It sounds no more;—and sure it waits upon
 * Some god o' th' island. Sitting on a bank,
 * Weeping again the king my father's wrack,
 * This music crept by me upon the waters,
 * Allaying both their fury and my passion,
 * With its sweet air: thence I have follow'd it,—
 * Or it hath drawn me rather,—but 'tis gone.
 * No, it begins again.

[ARIEL sings]
 * Full fathom five thy father lies:
 * Of his bones are coral made:
 * Those are pearls that were his eyes:
 * Nothing of him that doth fade
 * But doth suffer a sea-change
 * Into something rich and strange.
 * Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell:
 * [Burden: Ding-dong.]
 * Hark! now I hear them—ding-dong, bell.

FERDINAND.
 * The ditty does remember my drown'd father.
 * This is no mortal business, nor no sound
 * That the earth owes:—I hear it now above me.

PROSPERO.
 * The fringed curtains of thine eye advance,
 * And say what thou seest yond.

MIRANDA.
 * What is't? a spirit?
 * Lord, how it looks about! Believe me, sir,
 * It carries a brave form:—but 'tis a spirit.

PROSPERO.
 * No, wench; it eats and sleeps, and hath such senses
 * As we have, such; this gallant which thou see'st
 * Was in the wrack; and but he's something stain'd
 * With grief,—that beauty's canker,—thou mightst call him
 * A goodly person: he hath lost his fellows
 * And strays about to find 'em.

MIRANDA.
 * I might call him
 * A thing divine; for nothing natural
 * I ever saw so noble.

PROSPERO.
 * [Aside] It goes on, I see,
 * As my soul prompts it.—Spirit, fine spirit! I'll free thee
 * Within two days for this.

FERDINAND.
 * Most sure, the goddess
 * On whom these airs attend!—Vouchsafe, my prayer
 * May know if you remain upon this island;
 * And that you will some good instruction give
 * How I may bear me here: my prime request,
 * Which I do last pronounce, is,—O you wonder!—
 * If you be maid or no?

MIRANDA.
 * No wonder, sir;
 * But certainly a maid.

FERDINAND.
 * My language! Heavens!—
 * I am the best of them that speak this speech,
 * Were I but where 'tis spoken.

PROSPERO.
 * How! the best?
 * What wert thou, if the King of Naples heard thee?

FERDINAND.
 * A single thing, as I am now, that wonders
 * To hear thee speak of Naples. He does hear me;
 * And, that he does, I weep: myself am Naples,
 * Who with mine eyes,—never since at ebb,—beheld
 * The King, my father wrack'd.

MIRANDA.
 * Alack, for mercy!

FERDINAND.
 * Yes, faith, and all his lords, the Duke of Milan,
 * And his brave son being twain.

PROSPERO.
 * [Aside.] The Duke of Milan,
 * And his more braver daughter could control thee,
 * If now 'twere fit to do't.—At the first sight [Aside.]
 * They have changed eyes;—delicate Ariel,
 * I'll set thee free for this!—[To FERDINAND] A word, good sir:
 * I fear you have done yourself some wrong: a word.

MIRANDA.
 * [Aside.] Why speaks my father so ungently? This
 * Is the third man that e'er I saw; the first
 * That e'er I sigh'd for; pity move my father
 * To be inclin'd my way!

FERDINAND.
 * [Aside.] O! if a virgin,
 * And your affection not gone forth, I'll make you
 * The Queen of Naples.

PROSPERO.
 * Soft, sir; one word more—
 * [Aside] They are both in either's powers: but this swift
 * business I must uneasy make, lest too light winning
 * Make the prize light. [To FERDINAND] One word more:
 * I charge thee
 * That thou attend me. Thou dost here usurp
 * The name thou ow'st not; and hast put thyself
 * Upon this island as a spy, to win it
 * From me, the lord on't.

FERDINAND.
 * No, as I am a man.

MIRANDA.
 * There's nothing ill can dwell in such a temple:
 * If the ill spirit have so fair a house,
 * Good things will strive to dwell with't.

PROSPERO.
 * {To FERDINAND] Follow me.—
 * [To MIRANDA] Speak not you for him; he's a traitor.—
 * [To FERDINAND] Come;
 * I'll manacle thy neck and feet together:
 * Sea-water shalt thou drink; thy food shall be
 * The fresh-brook mussels, wither'd roots, and husks
 * Wherein the acorn cradled. Follow.

FERDINAND.
 * No;
 * I will resist such entertainment till
 * Mine enemy has more power.

[He draws, and is charmed from moving.]

MIRANDA.
 * O dear father!
 * Make not too rash a trial of him, for
 * He's gentle, and not fearful.

PROSPERO.
 * What! I say,
 * My foot my tutor? Put thy sword up, traitor;
 * Who mak'st a show, but dar'st not strike, thy conscience
 * Is so possess'd with guilt: come from thy ward,
 * For I can here disarm thee with this stick
 * And make thy weapon drop.

MIRANDA.
 * Beseech you, father!

PROSPERO.
 * Hence! Hang not on my garments.

MIRANDA.
 * Sir, have pity;
 * I'll be his surety.

PROSPERO.
 * Silence! One word more
 * Shall make me chide thee, if not hate thee. What!
 * An advocate for an impostor? hush!
 * Thou think'st there is no more such shapes as he,
 * Having seen but him and Caliban: foolish wench!
 * To the most of men this is a Caliban,
 * And they to him are angels.

MIRANDA.
 * My affections
 * Are then most humble; I have no ambition
 * To see a goodlier man.

PROSPERO.
 * [To FERDINAND] Come on; obey:
 * Thy nerves are in their infancy again,
 * And have no vigour in them.

FERDINAND.
 * So they are:
 * My spirits, as in a dream, are all bound up.
 * My father's loss, the weakness which I feel,
 * The wrack of all my friends, nor this man's threats,
 * To whom I am subdued, are but light to me,
 * Might I but through my prison once a day
 * Behold this maid: all corners else o' th' earth
 * Let liberty make use of; space enough
 * Have I in such a prison.

PROSPERO.
 * [Aside] It works.—[To FERDINAND] Come on.—
 * Thou hast done well, fine Ariel! [To FERDINAND] Follow me.—
 * [To ARIEL] Hark what thou else shalt do me.

MIRANDA.
 * Be of comfort;
 * My father's of a better nature, sir,
 * Than he appears by speech: this is unwonted,
 * Which now came from him.

PROSPERO.
 * Thou shalt be as free
 * As mountain winds; but then exactly do
 * All points of my command.

ARIEL.
 * To the syllable.

PROSPERO.
 * [To FERDINAND] Come, follow.—Speak not for him.

[Exeunt]

SCENE I.—Another part of the island
[Enter ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, GONZALO, ADRIAN, FRANCISCO,
 * and OTHERS]

GONZALO.
 * Beseech you, sir, be merry; you have cause,
 * So have we all, of joy; for our escape
 * Is much beyond our loss. Our hint of woe
 * Is common: every day, some sailor's wife,
 * The masters of some merchant and the merchant,
 * Have just our theme of woe; but for the miracle,
 * I mean our preservation, few in millions
 * Can speak like us: then wisely, good sir, weigh
 * Our sorrow with our comfort.

ALONSO.
 * Prithee, peace.

SEBASTIAN.
 * He receives comfort like cold porridge.

ANTONIO.
 * The visitor will not give him o'er so.

SEBASTIAN.
 * Look, he's winding up the watch of his wit; by
 * and by it will strike.

GONZALO.
 * Sir,—

SEBASTIAN.
 * One: tell.

GONZALO.
 * When every grief is entertain'd that's offer'd,
 * Comes to the entertainer—

SEBASTIAN.
 * A dollar.

GONZALO.
 * Dolour comes to him, indeed: you have spoken
 * truer than you purposed.

SEBASTIAN.
 * You have taken it wiselier than I meant you should.

GONZALO.
 * Therefore, my lord,—

ANTONIO.
 * Fie, what a spendthrift is he of his tongue!

ALONSO.
 * I prithee, spare.

GONZALO.
 * Well, I have done: but yet—

SEBASTIAN.
 * He will be talking.

ANTONIO.
 * Which, of he or Adrian, for a good wager, first
 * begins to crow?

SEBASTIAN.
 * The old cock.

ANTONIO.
 * The cockerel.

SEBASTIAN.
 * Done. The wager?

ANTONIO.
 * A laughter.

SEBASTIAN.
 * A match!

ADRIAN.
 * Though this island seem to be desert,—

SEBASTIAN.
 * Ha, ha, ha! So, you're paid.

ADRIAN.
 * Uninhabitable, and almost inaccessible,—

SEBASTIAN.
 * Yet—

ANTONIO
 * Yet—

ANTONIO.
 * He could not miss it.

ADRIAN.
 * It must needs be of subtle, tender, and delicate
 * temperance.

ANTONIO.
 * Temperance was a delicate wench.

SEBASTIAN.
 * Ay, and a subtle; as he most learnedly delivered.

ADRIAN.
 * The air breathes upon us here most sweetly.

SEBASTIAN.
 * As if it had lungs, and rotten ones.

ANTONIO.
 * Or, as 'twere perfum'd by a fen.

GONZALO.
 * Here is everything advantageous to life.

ANTONIO.
 * True; save means to live.

SEBASTIAN.
 * Of that there's none, or little.

GONZALO.
 * How lush and lusty the grass looks! how green!

ANTONIO.
 * The ground indeed is tawny.

SEBASTIAN.
 * With an eye of green in't.

ANTONIO.
 * He misses not much.

SEBASTIAN.
 * No; he doth but mistake the truth totally.

GONZALO.
 * But the rarity of it is,—which is indeed almost
 * beyond credit,—

SEBASTIAN.
 * As many vouch'd rarities are.

GONZALO.
 * That our garments, being, as they were, drenched
 * in the sea, hold notwithstanding their freshness and
 * glosses, being rather new-dyed than stain'd with salt
 * water.

ANTONIO.
 * If but one of his pockets could speak, would it
 * not say he lies?

SEBASTIAN.
 * Ay, or very falsely pocket up his report.

GONZALO.
 * Methinks, our garments are now as fresh as when
 * we put them on first in Afric, at the marriage of the
 * king's fair daughter Claribel to the King of Tunis.

SEBASTIAN.
 * 'Twas a sweet marriage, and we prosper well in our return.

ADRIAN.
 * Tunis was never graced before with such a paragon
 * to their queen.

GONZALO.
 * Not since widow Dido's time.

ANTONIO.
 * Widow! a pox o' that! How came that widow in? Widow Dido!

SEBASTIAN.
 * What if he had said, widower Aeneas too?
 * Good Lord, how you take it!

ADRIAN.
 * Widow Dido said you? You make me study of that; she was of
 * Carthage, not of Tunis.

GONZALO.
 * This Tunis, sir, was Carthage.

ADRIAN.
 * Carthage?

GONZALO.
 * I assure you, Carthage.

ANTONIO.
 * His word is more than the miraculous harp.

SEBASTIAN.
 * He hath rais'd the wall, and houses too.

ANTONIO.
 * What impossible matter will he make easy next?

SEBASTIAN.
 * I think he will carry this island home in his
 * pocket, and give it his son for an apple.

ANTONIO.
 * And, sowing the kernels of it in the sea, bring
 * forth more islands.

ALONSO.
 * Ay.

ANTONIO.
 * Why, in good time.

GONZALO.
 * [To ALONSO.] Sir, we were talking that our garments seem now
 * as fresh as when we were at Tunis at the marriage of
 * your daughter, who is now Queen.

ANTONIO.
 * And the rarest that e'er came there.

SEBASTIAN.
 * Bate, I beseech you, widow Dido.

ANTONIO.
 * O! widow Dido; ay, widow Dido.

GONZALO.
 * Is not, sir, my doublet as fresh as the first day I
 * wore it? I mean, in a sort.

ANTONIO.
 * That sort was well fish'd for.

GONZALO.
 * When I wore it at your daughter's marriage?

ALONSO.
 * You cram these words into mine ears against
 * The stomach of my sense. Would I had never
 * Married my daughter there! for, coming thence,
 * My son is lost; and, in my rate, she too,
 * Who is so far from Italy remov'd,
 * I ne'er again shall see her. O thou, mine heir
 * Of Naples and of Milan! what strange fish
 * Hath made his meal on thee?

FRANCISCO.
 * Sir, he may live:
 * I saw him beat the surges under him,
 * And ride upon their backs: he trod the water,
 * Whose enmity he flung aside, and breasted
 * The surge most swoln that met him: his bold head
 * 'Bove the contentious waves he kept, and oar'd
 * Himself with his good arms in lusty stroke
 * To th' shore, that o'er his wave-worn basis bowed,
 * As stooping to relieve him. I not doubt
 * He came alive to land.

ALONSO.
 * No, no; he's gone.

SEBASTIAN.
 * Sir, you may thank yourself for this great loss,
 * That would not bless our Europe with your daughter,
 * But rather lose her to an African;
 * Where she, at least, is banish'd from your eye,
 * Who hath cause to wet the grief on't.

ALONSO.
 * Prithee, peace.

SEBASTIAN.
 * You were kneel'd to, and importun'd otherwise
 * By all of us; and the fair soul herself
 * Weigh'd between loathness and obedience at
 * Which end o' th' beam should bow. We have lost your son,
 * I fear, for ever: Milan and Naples have
 * More widows in them of this business' making,
 * Than we bring men to comfort them; the fault's your own.

ALONSO.
 * So is the dearest of the loss.

GONZALO.
 * My lord Sebastian,
 * The truth you speak doth lack some gentleness
 * And time to speak it in; you rub the sore,
 * When you should bring the plaster.

SEBASTIAN.
 * Very well.

ANTONIO.
 * And most chirurgeonly.

GONZALO.
 * It is foul weather in us all, good sir,
 * When you are cloudy.

SEBASTIAN.
 * Foul weather?

ANTONIO.
 * Very foul.

GONZALO.
 * Had I plantation of this isle, my lord,—

ANTONIO.
 * He'd sow 't with nettle-seed.

SEBASTIAN.
 * Or docks, or mallows.

GONZALO.
 * And were the king on't, what would I do?

SEBASTIAN.
 * 'Scape being drunk for want of wine.

GONZALO.
 * I' the commonwealth I would by contraries
 * Execute all things; for no kind of traffic
 * Would I admit; no name of magistrate;
 * Letters should not be known; riches, poverty,
 * And use of service, none; contract, succession,
 * Bourn, bound of land, tilth, vineyard, none;
 * No use of metal, corn, or wine, or oil;
 * No occupation; all men idle, all:
 * And women too, but innocent and pure;
 * No sovereignty,—

SEBASTIAN.
 * Yet he would be king on't.

ANTONIO.
 * The latter end of his commonwealth forgets the beginning.

GONZALO.
 * All things in common nature should produce
 * Without sweat or endeavour; treason, felony,
 * Sword, pike, knife, gun, or need of any engine,
 * Would I not have; but nature should bring forth,
 * Of it own kind, all foison, all abundance,
 * To feed my innocent people.

SEBASTIAN.
 * No marrying 'mong his subjects?

ANTONIO.
 * None, man: all idle; whores and knaves.

GONZALO.
 * I would with such perfection govern, sir,
 * To excel the golden age.

SEBASTIAN.
 * Save his Majesty!

ANTONIO.
 * Long live Gonzalo!

GONZALO.
 * And,—do you mark me, sir?

ALONSO.
 * Prithee, no more: thou dost talk nothing to me.

GONZALO.
 * I do well believe your highness; and did it to
 * minister occasion to these gentlemen, who are of such
 * sensible and nimble lungs that they always use to laugh
 * at nothing.

ANTONIO.
 * 'Twas you we laugh'd at.

GONZALO.
 * Who in this kind of merry fooling am nothing to
 * you; so you may continue, and laugh at nothing still.

ANTONIO.
 * What a blow was there given!

SEBASTIAN.
 * An it had not fallen flat-long.

GONZALO.
 * You are gentlemen of brave mettle: you would
 * lift the moon out of her sphere, if she would continue
 * in it five weeks without changing.

[Enter ARIEL, invisible, playing solemn music]

SEBASTIAN.
 * We would so, and then go a-bat-fowling.

ANTONIO.
 * Nay, good my lord, be not angry.

GONZALO.
 * No, I warrant you; I will not adventure my
 * discretion so weakly. Will you laugh me asleep, for I am
 * very heavy?

ANTONIO.
 * Go sleep, and hear us.

[All sleep but ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, and ANTONIO]

ALONSO.
 * What! all so soon asleep! I wish mine eyes
 * Would, with themselves, shut up my thoughts: I find
 * They are inclin'd to do so.

SEBASTIAN.
 * Please you, sir,
 * Do not omit the heavy offer of it:
 * It seldom visits sorrow; when it doth,
 * It is a comforter.

ANTONIO.
 * We two, my lord,
 * Will guard your person while you take your rest,
 * And watch your safety.

ALONSO.
 * Thank you. Wondrous heavy!

[ALONSO sleeps. Exit ARIEL.]

SEBASTIAN.
 * What a strange drowsiness possesses them!

ANTONIO.
 * It is the quality o' th' climate.

SEBASTIAN.
 * Why
 * Doth it not then our eyelids sink? I find not
 * Myself dispos'd to sleep.

ANTONIO.
 * Nor I: my spirits are nimble.
 * They fell together all, as by consent;
 * They dropp'd, as by a thunder-stroke. What might,
 * Worthy Sebastian? O! what might?—No more:—
 * And yet methinks I see it in thy face,
 * What thou should'st be: The occasion speaks thee; and
 * My strong imagination sees a crown
 * Dropping upon thy head.

SEBASTIAN.
 * What! art thou waking?

ANTONIO.
 * Do you not hear me speak?

SEBASTIAN.
 * I do: and surely
 * It is a sleepy language, and thou speak'st
 * Out of thy sleep. What is it thou didst say?
 * This is a strange repose, to be asleep
 * With eyes wide open; standing, speaking, moving,
 * And yet so fast asleep.

ANTONIO.
 * Noble Sebastian,
 * Thou let'st thy fortune sleep—die rather: wink'st
 * Whiles thou art waking.

SEBASTIAN.
 * Thou dost snore distinctly:
 * There's meaning in thy snores.

ANTONIO.
 * I am more serious than my custom; you
 * Must be so too, if heed me: which to do
 * Trebles thee o'er.

SEBASTIAN.
 * Well, I am standing water.

ANTONIO.
 * I'll teach you how to flow.

SEBASTIAN.
 * Do so: to ebb,
 * Hereditary sloth instructs me.

ANTONIO.
 * O!
 * If you but knew how you the purpose cherish
 * Whiles thus you mock it! how, in stripping it,
 * You more invest it! Ebbing men indeed,
 * Most often, do so near the bottom run
 * By their own fear or sloth.

SEBASTIAN.
 * Prithee, say on:
 * The setting of thine eye and cheek proclaim
 * A matter from thee, and a birth, indeed
 * Which throes thee much to yield.

ANTONIO.
 * Thus, sir:
 * Although this lord of weak remembrance, this
 * Who shall be of as little memory
 * When he is earth'd, hath here almost persuaded,—
 * For he's a spirit of persuasion, only
 * Professes to persuade,—the King his son's alive,
 * 'Tis as impossible that he's undrown'd
 * As he that sleeps here swims.

SEBASTIAN.
 * I have no hope
 * That he's undrown'd.

ANTONIO.
 * O! out of that 'no hope'
 * What great hope have you! No hope that way is
 * Another way so high a hope, that even
 * Ambition cannot pierce a wink beyond,
 * But doubts discovery there. Will you grant with me
 * That Ferdinand is drown'd?

SEBASTIAN.
 * He's gone.

ANTONIO.
 * Then tell me,
 * Who's the next heir of Naples?

SEBASTIAN.
 * Claribel.

ANTONIO.
 * She that is Queen of Tunis; she that dwells
 * Ten leagues beyond man's life; she that from Naples
 * Can have no note, unless the sun were post—
 * The Man i' th' Moon's too slow—till newborn chins
 * Be rough and razorable: she that from whom
 * We all were sea-swallow'd, though some cast again,
 * And by that destiny, to perform an act
 * Whereof what's past is prologue, what to come
 * In yours and my discharge.

SEBASTIAN.
 * What stuff is this!—How say you?
 * 'Tis true, my brother's daughter's Queen of Tunis;
 * So is she heir of Naples; 'twixt which regions
 * There is some space.

ANTONIO.
 * A space whose every cubit
 * Seems to cry out 'How shall that Claribel
 * Measure us back to Naples?—Keep in Tunis,
 * And let Sebastian wake.'—Say this were death
 * That now hath seiz'd them; why, they were no worse
 * Than now they are. There be that can rule Naples
 * As well as he that sleeps; lords that can prate
 * As amply and unnecessarily
 * As this Gonzalo: I myself could make
 * A chough of as deep chat. O, that you bore
 * The mind that I do! What a sleep were this
 * For your advancement! Do you understand me?

SEBASTIAN.
 * Methinks I do.

ANTONIO.
 * And how does your content
 * Tender your own good fortune?

SEBASTIAN.
 * I remember
 * You did supplant your brother Prospero.

ANTONIO.
 * True.
 * And look how well my garments sit upon me;
 * Much feater than before; my brother's servants
 * Were then my fellows; now they are my men.

SEBASTIAN.
 * But, for your conscience,—

ANTONIO.
 * Ay, sir; where lies that? If 'twere a kibe,
 * 'Twould put me to my slipper: but I feel not
 * This deity in my bosom: twenty consciences
 * That stand 'twixt me and Milan, candied be they
 * And melt ere they molest! Here lies your brother,
 * No better than the earth he lies upon,
 * If he were that which now he's like, that's dead:
 * Whom I, with this obedient steel,—three inches of it,—
 * Can lay to bed for ever; whiles you, doing thus,
 * To the perpetual wink for aye might put
 * This ancient morsel, this Sir Prudence, who
 * Should not upbraid our course. For all the rest,
 * They'll take suggestion as a cat laps milk:
 * They'll tell the clock to any business that
 * We say befits the hour.

SEBASTIAN.
 * Thy case, dear friend,
 * Shall be my precedent: as thou got'st Milan,
 * I'll come by Naples. Draw thy sword: one stroke
 * Shall free thee from the tribute which thou pay'st,
 * And I the king shall love thee.

ANTONIO. Draw together:
 * And when I rear my hand, do you the like,
 * To fall it on Gonzalo.

SEBASTIAN.
 * O! but one word.

[They converse apart.]

[Music. Re-enter ARIEL, invisible.]

ARIEL.
 * My master through his art foresees the danger
 * That you, his friend, are in; and sends me forth—
 * For else his project dies—to keep thee living.

[Sings in GONZALO'S ear]
 * While you here do snoring lie,
 * Open-ey'd Conspiracy
 * His time doth take.
 * If of life you keep a care,
 * Shake off slumber, and beware.
 * Awake! awake!

ANTONIO.
 * Then let us both be sudden.

GONZALO.
 * Now, good angels
 * Preserve the King!

[They wake]

ALONSO.
 * Why, how now! Ho, awake! Why are you drawn?
 * Wherefore this ghastly looking?

GONZALO.
 * What's the matter?

SEBASTIAN.
 * Whiles we stood here securing your repose,
 * Even now, we heard a hollow burst of bellowing
 * Like bulls, or rather lions; did't not wake you?
 * It struck mine ear most terribly.

ALONSO.
 * I heard nothing.

ANTONIO.
 * O! 'twas a din to fright a monster's ear,
 * To make an earthquake: sure it was the roar
 * Of a whole herd of lions.

ALONSO.
 * Heard you this, Gonzalo?

GONZALO.
 * Upon mine honour, sir, I heard a humming,
 * And that a strange one too, which did awake me.
 * I shak'd you, sir, and cried; as mine eyes open'd,
 * I saw their weapons drawn:—there was a noise,
 * That's verily. 'Tis best we stand upon our guard,
 * Or that we quit this place: let's draw our weapons.

ALONSO.
 * Lead off this ground: and let's make further search
 * For my poor son.

GONZALO.
 * Heavens keep him from these beasts!
 * For he is, sure, i' th' island.

ALONSO.
 * Lead away.

[Exit with the others.]

ARIEL.
 * Prospero my lord shall know what I have done:
 * So, King, go safely on to seek thy son.

[Exit]

SCENE II. Another part of the island
[Enter CALIBAN, with a burden of wood. A noise of thunder heard]

CALIBAN.
 * All the infections that the sun sucks up
 * From bogs, fens, flats, on Prosper fall, and make him
 * By inch-meal a disease! His spirits hear me,
 * And yet I needs must curse. But they'll nor pinch,
 * Fright me with urchin-shows, pitch me i' the mire,
 * Nor lead me, like a firebrand, in the dark
 * Out of my way, unless he bid 'em; but
 * For every trifle are they set upon me:
 * Sometime like apes that mow and chatter at me,
 * And after bite me; then like hedge-hogs which
 * Lie tumbling in my bare-foot way, and mount
 * Their pricks at my foot-fall; sometime am I
 * All wound with adders, who with cloven tongues
 * Do hiss me into madness.—

[Enter TRINCULO]


 * Lo, now, lo!
 * Here comes a spirit of his, and to torment me
 * For bringing wood in slowly. I'll fall flat;
 * Perchance he will not mind me.

TRINCULO. Here's neither bush nor shrub to bear off any weather at all, and another storm brewing; I hear it sing i' th' wind; yond same black cloud, yond huge one, looks like a foul bombard that would shed his liquor. If it should thunder as it did before, I know not where to hide my head: yond same cloud cannot choose but fall by pailfuls.—What have we here? a man or a fish? dead or alive? A fish: he smells like a fish: a very ancient and fish-like smell; a kind of not of the newest Poor-John. A strange fish! Were I in England now,—as once I was, and had but this fish painted, not a holiday fool there but would give a piece of silver: there would this monster make a man; any strange beast there makes a man. When they will not give a doit to relieve a lame beggar, they will lay out ten to see a dead Indian. Legg'd like a man, and his fins like arms! Warm, o' my troth! I do now let loose my opinion: hold it no longer; this is no fish, but an islander, that hath lately suffered by thunderbolt. [Thunder] Alas, the storm is come again! My best way is to creep under his gaberdine; there is no other shelter hereabout: misery acquaints a man with strange bed-fellows. I will here shroud till the dregs of the storm be past.

[Enter STEPHANO singing; a bottle in his hand]

STEPHANO.
 * I shall no more to sea, to sea,
 * Here shall I die a-shore:—


 * This is a very scurvy tune to sing at a man's funeral:
 * Well, here's my comfort.

[Drinks]


 * The master, the swabber, the boatswain, and I,
 * The gunner, and his mate,
 * Lov'd Mall, Meg, and Marian, and Margery,
 * But none of us car'd for Kate:
 * For she had a tongue with a tang,
 * Would cry to a sailor 'Go hang!'
 * She lov'd not the savour of tar nor of pitch,
 * Yet a tailor might scratch her wher-e'er she did itch.
 * Then to sea, boys, and let her go hang.


 * This is a scurvy tune too: but here's my comfort.

[Drinks]

CALIBAN.
 * Do not torment me: O!

STEPHANO.
 * What's the matter? Have we devils here? Do you
 * put tricks upon us with savages and men of Ind? Ha! I
 * have not 'scaped drowning, to be afeard now of your four
 * legs; for it hath been said, As proper a man as ever
 * went on four legs cannot make him give ground: and it
 * shall be said so again, while Stephano breathes at 's
 * nostrils.

CALIBAN.
 * The spirit torments me: O!

STEPHANO.
 * This is some monster of the isle with four legs,
 * who hath got, as I take it, an ague. Where the devil
 * should he learn our language? I will give him some
 * relief, if it be but for that; if I can recover him and
 * keep him tame and get to Naples with him, he's a
 * present for any emperor that ever trod on neat's-leather.

CALIBAN.
 * Do not torment me, prithee; I'll bring my wood
 * home faster.

STEPHANO.
 * He's in his fit now and does not talk after the
 * wisest. He shall taste of my bottle: if he have never
 * drunk wine afore, it will go near to remove his fit. If
 * I can recover him, and keep him tame, I will not take
 * too much for him: he shall pay for him that hath him,
 * and that soundly.

CALIBAN.
 * Thou dost me yet but little hurt; thou wilt anon,
 * I know it by thy trembling: now Prosper works upon thee.

STEPHANO.
 * Come on your ways: open your mouth; here is
 * that which will give language to you, cat. Open your
 * mouth: this will shake your shaking, I can tell you, and
 * that soundly [gives CALIBAN a drink]: you cannot tell who's your
 * friend: open your chaps again.

TRINCULO.
 * I should know that voice: it should be—but he is
 * drowned; and these are devils. O! defend me.

STEPHANO.
 * Four legs and two voices; a most delicate monster!
 * His forward voice now is to speak well of his
 * friend; his backward voice is to utter foul speeches, and
 * to detract. If all the wine in my bottle will recover
 * him, I will help his ague. Come. Amen! I will pour some
 * in thy other mouth.

TRINCULO.
 * Stephano!

STEPHANO.
 * Doth thy other mouth call me? Mercy! mercy!
 * This is a devil, and no monster: I will leave him: I
 * have no long spoon.

TRINCULO.
 * Stephano!—If thou beest Stephano, touch me, and
 * speak to me; for I am Trinculo:—be not afeared—thy good
 * friend Trinculo.

STEPHANO.
 * If thou beest Trinculo, come forth. I'll pull
 * thee by the lesser legs: if any be Trinculo's legs, these
 * are they. Thou art very Trinculo indeed! How cam'st thou
 * to be the siege of this moon-calf? Can he vent Trinculos?

TRINCULO.
 * I took him to be kill'd with a thunderstroke.
 * But art thou not drown'd, Stephano? I hope now thou are
 * not drown'd. Is the storm overblown? I hid me under the
 * dead moon-calf's gaberdine for fear of the storm. And
 * art thou living, Stephano? O Stephano, two Neapolitans
 * 'scaped!

STEPHANO.
 * Prithee, do not turn me about: my stomach is not constant.

CALIBAN.
 * [Aside] These be fine things, an if they be not sprites.
 * That's a brave god, and bears celestial liquor;
 * I will kneel to him.

STEPHANO.
 * How didst thou 'scape? How cam'st thou hither? swear
 * by this bottle how thou cam'st hither—I escaped upon
 * a butt of sack, which the sailors heaved overboard, by
 * this bottle! which I made of the bark of a tree, with
 * mine own hands, since I was cast ashore.

CALIBAN.
 * I'll swear upon that bottle to be thy true
 * subject, for the liquor is not earthly.

STEPHANO.
 * Here: swear then how thou escapedst.

TRINCULO.
 * Swum ashore, man, like a duck: I can swim like
 * a duck, I'll be sworn.

STEPHANO.
 * [Passing the bottle] Here, kiss the book [gives
 * TRINCULO a drink]. Though thou canst swim like a
 * duck, thou art made like a goose.

TRINCULO.
 * O Stephano! hast any more of this?

STEPHANO.
 * The whole butt, man: my cellar is in a rock by
 * the seaside, where my wine is hid. How now, moon-calf!
 * How does thine ague?

CALIBAN.
 * Hast thou not dropped from heaven?

STEPHANO.
 * Out o' the moon, I do assure thee: I was the Man
 * in the Moon, when time was.

CALIBAN.
 * I have seen thee in her, and I do adore thee, my
 * mistress showed me thee, and thy dog and thy bush.

STEPHANO.
 * Come, swear to that; kiss the book; I will
 * furnish it anon with new contents; swear.

TRINCULO.
 * By this good light, this is a very shallow
 * monster.—I afeard of him!—A very weak monster.
 * —The Man i' the Moon! A most poor credulous
 * monster!—Well drawn, monster, in good sooth!

CALIBAN.
 * I'll show thee every fertile inch o' the island;
 * And I will kiss thy foot. I prithee, be my god.

TRINCULO.
 * By this light, a most perfidious and drunken
 * monster: when his god's asleep, he'll rob his bottle.

CALIBAN.
 * I'll kiss thy foot: I'll swear myself thy subject.

STEPHANO.
 * Come on, then; down, and swear.

TRINCULO.
 * I shall laugh myself to death at this puppy-headed
 * monster. A most scurvy monster! I could find in
 * my heart to beat him,—

STEPHANO.
 * Come, kiss.

TRINCULO.
 * But that the poor monster's in drink: an
 * abominable monster!

CALIBAN.
 * I'll show thee the best springs; I'll pluck thee
 * berries;
 * I'll fish for thee, and get thee wood enough.
 * A plague upon the tyrant that I serve!
 * I'll bear him no more sticks, but follow thee,
 * Thou wondrous man.

TRINCULO.
 * A most ridiculous monster, to make a wonder of
 * a poor drunkard!

CALIBAN.
 * I prithee, let me bring thee where crabs grow;
 * And I with my long nails will dig thee pig-nuts;
 * Show thee a jay's nest, and instruct thee how
 * To snare the nimble marmozet; I'll bring thee
 * To clust'ring filberts, and sometimes I'll get thee
 * Young scamels from the rock. Wilt thou go with me?

STEPHANO.
 * I prithee now, lead the way without any more
 * talking—Trinculo, the king and all our company else
 * being drowned, we will inherit here.—Here, bear my
 * bottle.—Fellow Trinculo, we'll fill him by and by again.

CALIBAN.
 * Farewell, master; farewell, farewell! [Sings drunkenly]

TRINCULO.
 * A howling monster, a drunken monster.

CALIBAN.
 * No more dams I'll make for fish;
 * Nor fetch in firing
 * At requiring,
 * Nor scrape trenchering, nor wash dish;
 * 'Ban 'Ban, Ca—Caliban,
 * Has a new master—Get a new man.
 * Freedom, high-day! high-day, freedom! freedom,
 * high-day, freedom!

STEPHANO.
 * O brave monster! lead the way.

[Exeunt]

SCENE I. Before PROSPERO'S cell
[Enter FERDINAND, bearing a log.]

FERDINAND.
 * There be some sports are painful, and their labour
 * Delight in them sets off: some kinds of baseness
 * Are nobly undergone, and most poor matters
 * Point to rich ends. This my mean task
 * Would be as heavy to me as odious; but
 * The mistress which I serve quickens what's dead,
 * And makes my labours pleasures: O! she is
 * Ten times more gentle than her father's crabbed,
 * And he's compos'd of harshness. I must remove
 * Some thousands of these logs, and pile them up,
 * Upon a sore injunction: my sweet mistress
 * Weeps when she sees me work, and says such baseness
 * Had never like executor. I forget:
 * But these sweet thoughts do even refresh my labours,
 * Most busy, least when I do it.

[Enter MIRANDA: and PROSPERO behind.]

MIRANDA.
 * Alas! now pray you,
 * Work not so hard: I would the lightning had
 * Burnt up those logs that you are enjoin'd to pile!
 * Pray, set it down and rest you: when this burns,
 * 'Twill weep for having wearied you. My father
 * Is hard at study; pray, now, rest yourself:
 * He's safe for these three hours.

FERDINAND.
 * O most dear mistress,
 * The sun will set, before I shall discharge
 * What I must strive to do.

MIRANDA.
 * If you'll sit down,
 * I'll bear your logs the while. Pray give me that;
 * I'll carry it to the pile.

FERDINAND.
 * No, precious creature:
 * I had rather crack my sinews, break my back,
 * Than you should such dishonour undergo,
 * While I sit lazy by.

MIRANDA.
 * It would become me
 * As well as it does you: and I should do it
 * With much more ease; for my good will is to it,
 * And yours it is against.

PROSPERO.
 * [Aside] Poor worm! thou art infected:
 * This visitation shows it.

MIRANDA.
 * You look wearily.

FERDINAND.
 * No, noble mistress; 'tis fresh morning with me
 * When you are by at night. I do beseech you—
 * Chiefly that I might set it in my prayers—
 * What is your name?

MIRANDA.
 * Miranda—O my father!
 * I have broke your hest to say so.

FERDINAND.
 * Admir'd Miranda!
 * Indeed, the top of admiration; worth
 * What's dearest to the world! Full many a lady
 * I have ey'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 lik'd 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 may call men 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
 * I therein do forget.

FERDINAND.
 * I am, in my condition,
 * A prince, Miranda; I do think, a king;—
 * I would not so!—and would no more endure
 * This wooden slavery than to suffer
 * The flesh-fly blow my mouth.—Hear my soul speak:—
 * The very instant that I saw you, did
 * My heart fly to your service; there resides,
 * To make me slave to it; and for your sake
 * Am I this patient log-man.

MIRANDA.
 * Do you love me?

FERDINAND.
 * O heaven! O earth! bear witness to this sound,
 * And crown what I profess with kind event,
 * If I speak true: if hollowly, invert
 * What best is boded me to mischief! I,
 * Beyond all limit of what else i' the world,
 * Do love, prize, honour you.

MIRANDA.
 * I am a fool
 * To weep at what I am glad of.

PROSPERO.
 * [Aside] Fair encounter
 * Of two most rare affections! Heavens rain grace
 * On that which breeds between them!

FERDINAND.
 * Wherefore weep you?

MIRANDA.
 * At mine unworthiness, that dare not offer
 * What I desire to give; and much less take
 * What I shall die to want. But this is trifling;
 * And all the more it seeks to hide itself,
 * The bigger bulk it shows. Hence, bashful cunning!
 * 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't: and now farewell
 * Till half an hour hence.

FERDINAND.
 * A thousand thousand!

[Exeunt FERDINAND and MIRANDA severally.]

PROSPERO.
 * So glad of this as they, I cannot be,
 * Who are surpris'd withal; but my rejoicing
 * At nothing can be more. I'll to my book;
 * For yet, ere supper time, must I perform
 * Much business appertaining.

[Exit]

SCENE II. Another part of the island
[Enter CALIBAN, with a bottle, STEPHANO, and TRINCULO.]

STEPHANO.
 * Tell not me:—when the butt is out we will drink
 * water; not a drop before: therefore bear up, and board
 * 'em.—Servant-monster, drink to me.

TRINCULO.
 * Servant-monster! The folly of this island! They
 * say there's but five upon this isle; we are three of
 * them; if th' other two be brained like us, the state
 * totters.

STEPHANO.
 * Drink, servant-monster, when I bid thee: thy
 * eyes are almost set in thy head.

TRINCULO.
 * Where should they be set else? He were a brave
 * monster indeed, if they were set in his tail.

STEPHANO.
 * My man-monster hath drown'd his tongue in
 * sack: for my part, the sea cannot drown me; I swam, ere
 * I could recover the shore, five-and-thirty leagues, off
 * and on, by this light. Thou shalt be my lieutenant,
 * monster, or my standard.

TRINCULO.
 * Your lieutenant, if you list; he's no standard.

STEPHANO.
 * We'll not run, Monsieur monster.

TRINCULO.
 * Nor go neither: but you'll lie like dogs, and
 * yet say nothing neither.

STEPHANO.
 * Moon-calf, speak once in thy life, if thou beest
 * a good moon-calf.

CALIBAN.
 * How does thy honour? Let me lick thy shoe.
 * I'll not serve him: he is not valiant.

TRINCULO.
 * Thou liest, most ignorant monster: I am in case
 * to justle a constable. Why, thou deboshed fish thou,
 * was there ever man a coward that hath drunk so much sack
 * as I to-day? Wilt thou tell a monstrous lie, being but
 * half fish and half a monster?

CALIBAN.
 * Lo, how he mocks me! wilt thou let him, my lord?

TRINCULO.
 * 'Lord' quoth he!—That a monster should be such
 * a natural!

CALIBAN.
 * Lo, lo again! bite him to death, I prithee.

STEPHANO.
 * Trinculo, keep a good tongue in your head: if
 * you prove a mutineer, the next tree! The poor monster's
 * my subject, and he shall not suffer indignity.

CALIBAN.
 * I thank my noble lord. Wilt thou be pleas'd to
 * hearken once again to the suit I made to thee?

STEPHANO.
 * Marry will I; kneel, and repeat it: I will stand,
 * and so shall Trinculo.

[Enter ARIEL, invisible]

CALIBAN.
 * As I told thee before, I am subject to a tyrant,
 * sorcerer, that by his cunning hath cheated me of the island.

ARIEL.
 * Thou liest.

CALIBAN.
 * Thou liest, thou jesting monkey, thou;
 * I would my valiant master would destroy thee;
 * I do not lie.

STEPHANO.
 * Trinculo, if you trouble him any more in his tale,
 * by this hand, I will supplant some of your teeth.

TRINCULO.
 * Why, I said nothing.

STEPHANO.
 * Mum, then, and no more.—[To CALIBAN] Proceed.

CALIBAN.
 * I say, by sorcery he got this isle;
 * From me he got it: if thy greatness will ,
 * Revenge it on him,—for I know, thou dar'st;
 * But this thing dare not,—

STEPHANO.
 * That's most certain.

CALIBAN.
 * Thou shalt be lord of it and I'll serve thee.

STEPHANO.
 * How now shall this be compassed? Canst thou
 * bring me to the party?

CALIBAN.
 * Yea, yea, my lord: I'll yield him thee asleep,
 * Where thou may'st knock a nail into his head.

ARIEL.
 * Thou liest: thou canst not.

CALIBAN.
 * What a pied ninny's this! Thou scurvy patch!—
 * I do beseech thy greatness, give him blows,
 * And take his bottle from him: when that's gone
 * He shall drink nought but brine; for I'll not show him
 * Where the quick freshes are.

STEPHANO.
 * Trinculo, run into no further danger: interrupt the
 * monster one word further and, by this hand, I'll turn
 * my mercy out o' doors, and make a stock-fish of thee.

TRINCULO.
 * Why, what did I? I did nothing. I'll go farther off.

STEPHANO.
 * Didst thou not say he lied?

ARIEL.
 * Thou liest.

STEPHANO.
 * Do I so? Take thou that. [Strikes TRINCULO.] As you
 * like this, give me the lie another time.

TRINCULO.
 * I did not give the lie:—out o' your wits and
 * hearing too?—A pox o' your bottle! this can sack and
 * drinking do.—A murrain on your monster, and the devil
 * take your fingers!

CALIBAN.
 * Ha, ha, ha!

STEPHANO.
 * Now, forward with your tale.—Prithee stand
 * further off.

CALIBAN.
 * Beat him enough: after a little time, I'll beat
 * him too.

STEPHANO.
 * Stand farther.—Come, proceed.

CALIBAN.
 * Why, as I told thee, 'tis a custom with him
 * I' th' afternoon to sleep: there thou may'st brain him,
 * Having first seiz'd his books; or with a log
 * Batter his skull, or paunch him with a stake,
 * Or cut his wezand with thy knife. Remember
 * First to possess his books; for without them
 * He's but a sot, as I am, nor hath not
 * One spirit to command: they all do hate him
 * As rootedly as I. Burn but his books;
 * He has brave utensils,—for so he calls them,—
 * Which, when he has a house, he'll deck withal:
 * And that most deeply to consider is
 * The beauty of his daughter; he himself
 * Calls her a nonpareil: I never saw a woman
 * But only Sycorax my dam and she;
 * But she as far surpasseth Sycorax
 * As great'st does least.

STEPHANO.
 * Is it so brave a lass?

CALIBAN.
 * Ay, lord: she will become thy bed, I warrant,
 * And bring thee forth brave brood.

STEPHANO.
 * Monster, I will kill this man; his daughter and I
 * will be king and queen,—save our graces!—and Trinculo
 * and thyself shall be viceroys. Dost thou like the plot,
 * Trinculo?

TRINCULO.
 * Excellent.

STEPHANO.
 * Give me thy hand: I am sorry I beat thee; but
 * while thou livest, keep a good tongue in thy head.

CALIBAN.
 * Within this half hour will he be asleep;
 * Wilt thou destroy him then?

STEPHANO.
 * Ay, on mine honour.

ARIEL.
 * This will I tell my master.

CALIBAN.
 * Thou mak'st me merry: I am full of pleasure.
 * Let us be jocund: will you troll the catch
 * You taught me but while-ere?

STEPHANO.
 * At thy request, monster, I will do reason, any
 * reason. Come on, Trinculo, let us sing.

[Sings]

Flout 'em and scout 'em; and scout 'em and flout 'em:
 * Thought is free.

CALIBAN.
 * That's not the tune.

[ARIEL plays the tune on a Tabor and Pipe.]

STEPHANO.
 * What is this same?

TRINCULO.
 * This is the tune of our catch, played by the
 * picture of Nobody.

STEPHANO.
 * If thou beest a man, show thyself in thy
 * likeness: if thou beest a devil, take't as thou list.

TRINCULO.
 * O, forgive me my sins!

STEPHANO.
 * He that dies pays all debts: I defy thee.—Mercy
 * upon us!

CALIBAN.
 * Art thou afeard?

STEPHANO.
 * No, monster, not I.

CALIBAN.
 * Be not afeard: the isle is full of noises,
 * Sounds, and sweet airs, that give delight, and hurt not.
 * Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments
 * Will hum about mine ears; and sometimes voices,
 * That, if I then had wak'd after long sleep,
 * Will make me sleep again: and then, in dreaming,
 * The clouds methought would open and show riches
 * Ready to drop upon me; that, when I wak'd,
 * I cried to dream again.

STEPHANO.
 * This will prove a brave kingdom to me, where I
 * shall have my music for nothing.

CALIBAN.
 * When Prospero is destroyed.

STEPHANO.
 * That shall be by and by: I remember the story.

TRINCULO.
 * The sound is going away: let's follow it, and
 * after do our work.

STEPHANO.
 * Lead, monster: we'll follow.—I would I could see
 * this taborer! he lays it on. Wilt come?

TRINCULO.
 * I'll follow, Stephano.

[Exeunt]

SCENE III. Another part of the island
[Enter ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, GONZALO, ADRIAN, FRANCISCO, and OTHERS.]

GONZALO.
 * By'r lakin, I can go no further, sir;
 * My old bones ache: here's a maze trod, indeed,
 * Through forth-rights and meanders! By your patience,
 * I needs must rest me.

ALONSO.
 * Old lord, I cannot blame thee,
 * Who am myself attach'd with weariness
 * To th' dulling of my spirits: sit down, and rest.
 * Even here I will put off my hope, and keep it
 * No longer for my flatterer: he is drown'd
 * Whom thus we stray to find; and the sea mocks
 * Our frustrate search on land. Well, let him go.

ANTONIO.
 * [Aside to SEBASTIAN] I am right glad that he's
 * so out of hope.
 * Do not, for one repulse, forgo the purpose
 * That you resolv'd to effect.

SEBASTIAN.
 * [Aside to ANTONIO] The next advantage
 * Will we take throughly.

ANTONIO.
 * [Aside to SEBASTIAN] Let it be to-night;
 * For, now they are oppress'd with travel, they
 * Will not, nor cannot, use such vigilance
 * As when they are fresh.

SEBASTIAN.
 * [Aside to ANTONIO] I say, to-night: no more.

[Solemn and strange music: and PROSPERO above,
 * invisible. Enter several strange Shapes,
 * bringing in a banquet: they dance about it with
 * gentle actions of salutation; and inviting the
 * KING, &c., to eat, they depart.]

ALONSO.
 * What harmony is this? my good friends, hark!

GONZALO.
 * Marvellous sweet music!

ALONSO.
 * Give us kind keepers, heavens! What were these?

SEBASTIAN.
 * A living drollery. Now I will believe
 * That there are unicorns; that in Arabia
 * There is one tree, the phoenix' throne; one phoenix
 * At this hour reigning there.

ANTONIO.
 * I'll believe both;
 * And what does else want credit, come to me,
 * And I'll be sworn 'tis true: travellers ne'er did lie,
 * Though fools at home condemn them.

GONZALO.
 * If in Naples
 * I should report this now, would they believe me?
 * If I should say, I saw such islanders,—
 * For, certes, these are people of the island,—
 * Who, though, they are of monstrous shape, yet, note,
 * Their manners are more gentle-kind than of
 * Our human generation you shall find
 * Many, nay, almost any.

PROSPERO.
 * [Aside] Honest lord,
 * Thou hast said well; for some of you there present
 * Are worse than devils.

ALONSO.
 * I cannot too much muse
 * Such shapes, such gesture, and such sound, expressing,—
 * Although they want the use of tongue,—a kind
 * Of excellent dumb discourse.

PROSPERO.
 * [Aside] Praise in departing.

FRANCISCO.
 * They vanish'd strangely.

SEBASTIAN.
 * No matter, since
 * They have left their viands behind; for we have stomachs.—
 * Will't please you taste of what is here?

ALONSO.
 * Not I.

GONZALO.
 * Faith, sir, you need not fear. When we were boys,
 * Who would believe that there were mountaineers
 * Dewlapp'd like bulls, whose throats had hanging at them
 * Wallets of flesh? or that there were such men
 * Whose heads stood in their breasts? which now we find
 * Each putter-out of five for one will bring us
 * Good warrant of.

ALONSO.
 * I will stand to, and feed,
 * Although my last; no matter, since I feel
 * The best is past.—Brother, my lord the duke,
 * Stand to and do as we.

[Thunder and lightning. Enter ARIEL, like a harpy; claps his wings upon the table; and, with a quaint device, the banquet vanishes]

ARIEL.
 * You are three men of sin, whom Destiny,
 * That hath to instrument this lower world
 * And what is in't,—the never-surfeited sea
 * Hath caused to belch up you; and on this island
 * Where man doth not inhabit; you 'mongst men
 * Being most unfit to live. I have made you mad:

[Seeing ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, &c., draw their swords]


 * And even with such-like valour men hang and drown
 * Their proper selves. You fools! I and my fellows
 * Are ministers of fate: the elements
 * Of whom your swords are temper'd may as well
 * Wound the loud winds, or with bemock'd-at stabs
 * Kill the still-closing waters, as diminish
 * One dowle that's in my plume; my fellow-ministers
 * Are like invulnerable. If you could hurt,
 * Your swords are now too massy for your strengths,
 * And will not be uplifted. But, remember—
 * For that's my business to you,—that you three
 * From Milan did supplant good Prospero;
 * Expos'd unto the sea, which hath requit it,
 * Him, and his innocent child: for which foul deed
 * The powers, delaying, not forgetting, have
 * Incens'd the seas and shores, yea, all the creatures,
 * Against your peace. Thee of thy son, Alonso,
 * They have bereft; and do pronounce, by me
 * Lingering perdition,—worse than any death
 * Can be at once,—shall step by step attend
 * You and your ways; whose wraths to guard you from—
 * Which here, in this most desolate isle, else falls
 * Upon your heads,—is nothing but heart-sorrow,
 * And a clear life ensuing.

[He vanishes in thunder: then, to soft music, enter the Shapes again, and dance, with mocks and mows, and carry out the table]

PROSPERO.
 * [Aside] Bravely the figure of this harpy hast thou
 * Perform'd, my Ariel; a grace it had, devouring;
 * Of my instruction hast thou nothing bated
 * In what thou hadst to say: so, with good life
 * And observation strange, my meaner ministers
 * Their several kinds have done. My high charms work,
 * And these mine enemies are all knit up
 * In their distractions; they now are in my power;
 * And in these fits I leave them, while I visit
 * Young Ferdinand,—whom they suppose is drown'd,—
 * And his and mine lov'd darling.

[Exit above]

GONZALO.
 * I' the name of something holy, sir, why stand you
 * In this strange stare?

ALONSO.
 * O, it is monstrous! monstrous!
 * Methought the billows spoke, and told me of it;
 * The winds did sing it to me; and the thunder,
 * That deep and dreadful organ-pipe, pronounc'd
 * The name of Prosper: it did bass my trespass.
 * Therefore my son i' th' ooze is bedded; and
 * I'll seek him deeper than e'er plummet sounded,
 * And with him there lie mudded.

[Exit]

SEBASTIAN.
 * But one fiend at a time,
 * I'll fight their legions o'er.

ANTONIO.
 * I'll be thy second.

[Exeunt SEBASTIAN and ANTONIO]

GONZALO.
 * All three of them are desperate: their great guilt,
 * Like poison given to work a great time after,
 * Now 'gins to bite the spirits. I do beseech you
 * That are of suppler joints, follow them swiftly
 * And hinder them from what this ecstasy
 * May now provoke them to.

ADRIAN.
 * Follow, I pray you.

[Exeunt]

SCENE I. Before PROSPERO'S cell
[Enter PROSPERO! FERDINAND, and MIRANDA]

PROSPERO.
 * If I have too austerely punish'd you,
 * Your compensation makes amends: for
 * Have given you here a third of mine own life,
 * Or that for which I live; who once again
 * I tender to thy hand: all thy vexations
 * Were but my trials of thy love, and thou
 * Hast strangely stood the test: here, afore Heaven,
 * I ratify this my rich gift. O Ferdinand!
 * Do not smile at me that I boast her off,
 * For thou shalt find she will outstrip all praise,
 * And make it halt behind her.

FERDINAND.
 * I do believe it
 * Against an oracle.

PROSPERO.
 * Then, as my gift and thine own acquisition
 * Worthily purchas'd, take my daughter: but
 * If thou dost break her virgin knot before
 * All sanctimonious ceremonies may
 * With full and holy rite be minister'd,
 * No sweet aspersion shall the heavens let fall
 * To make this contract grow; but barren hate,
 * Sour-ey'd disdain, and discord, shall bestrew
 * The union of your bed with weeds so loathly
 * That you shall hate it both: therefore take heed,
 * As Hymen's lamps shall light you.

FERDINAND.
 * As I hope
 * For quiet days, fair issue, and long life,
 * With such love as 'tis now, the murkiest den,
 * The most opportune place, the strong'st suggestion
 * Our worser genius can, shall never melt
 * Mine honour into lust, to take away
 * The edge of that day's celebration,
 * When I shall think, or Phoebus' steeds are founder'd,
 * Or Night kept chain'd below.

PROSPERO.
 * Fairly spoke:
 * Sit, then, and talk with her, she is thine own.
 * What, Ariel! my industrious servant, Ariel!

[Enter ARIEL]

ARIEL.
 * What would my potent master? here I am.

PROSPERO.
 * Thou and thy meaner fellows your last service
 * Did worthily perform; and I must use you
 * In such another trick. Go bring the rabble,
 * O'er whom I give thee power, here to this place;
 * Incite them to quick motion; for I must
 * Bestow upon the eyes of this young couple
 * Some vanity of mine art: it is my promise,
 * And they expect it from me.

ARIEL.
 * Presently?

PROSPERO.
 * Ay, with a twink.

ARIEL.
 * Before you can say 'Come' and 'Go,'
 * And breathe twice; and cry 'so, so,'
 * Each one, tripping on his toe,
 * Will be here with mop and mow.
 * Do you love me, master? no?

PROSPERO.
 * Dearly, my delicate Ariel. Do not approach
 * Till thou dost hear me call.

ARIEL.
 * Well, I conceive.

[Exit]

PROSPERO.
 * Look, thou be true; do not give dalliance
 * Too much the rein: the strongest oaths are straw
 * To th' fire i' the blood: be more abstemious,
 * Or else good night your vow!

FERDINAND.
 * I warrant you, sir;
 * The white-cold virgin snow upon my heart
 * Abates the ardour of my liver.

PROSPERO.
 * Well.—
 * Now come, my Ariel! bring a corollary,
 * Rather than want a spirit: appear, and pertly.
 * No tongue! all eyes! be silent.

[Soft music]

[A Masque. Enter IRIS]

IRIS.
 * Ceres, most bounteous lady, thy rich leas
 * Of wheat, rye, barley, vetches, oats, and peas;
 * Thy turfy mountains, where live nibbling sheep,
 * And flat meads thatch'd with stover, them to keep;
 * Thy banks with pioned and twilled 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, sterile and rocky-hard,
 * Where thou thyself dost air: the Queen o' the 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]

CERES.
 * 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 blest lovers.

CERES.
 * 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,
 * Whose vows are, that no bed-rite shall be paid
 * Till Hymen's torch be lighted; but in vain.
 * Mars'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.

CERES.
 * 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.

CERES.
 * Earth's increase, foison plenty,
 * Barns and gamers 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.

FERDINAND.
 * This is a most majestic vision, and
 * Harmonious charmingly; may I be bold
 * To think these spirits?

PROSPERO.
 * Spirits, which by mine art
 * I have from their confines call'd to enact
 * My present fancies.

FERDINAND.
 * Let me live here ever:
 * So rare a wonder'd father and a wise,
 * Makes this place Paradise.

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

PROSPERO.
 * 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 windring 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 holiday: 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.]

PROSPERO.
 * [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!

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

MIRANDA.
 * Never till this day
 * Saw I him touch'd with anger so distemper'd.

PROSPERO.
 * 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 on, 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
 * And there repose: a turn or two I'll walk,
 * To still my beating mind.

FERDINAND, MIRANDA.
 * We wish your peace.

[Exeunt.]

PROSPERO.
 * Come, with a thought.—[To them.] I thank thee:
 * Ariel, come!

[Enter ARIEL.]

ARIEL.
 * Thy thoughts I cleave to. What's thy pleasure?

PROSPERO.
 * Spirit,
 * We must prepare to meet with Caliban.

ARIEL.
 * Ay, my commander; when I presented Ceres,
 * I thought to have told thee of it: but I fear'd
 * Lest I might anger thee.

PROSPERO.
 * Say again, where didst thou leave these varlets?

ARIEL.
 * 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 eyelids, 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' the filthy-mantled pool beyond your cell,
 * There dancing up to the chins, that the foul lake
 * O'erstunk their feet.

PROSPERO.
 * 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.

ARIEL.
 * I go, I go.

[Exit]

PROSPERO.
 * 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,
 * Even to roaring.

[Re-enter ARIEL, loaden with glistering apparel, &c.]

Come, hang them on this line.

[PROSPERO and ARIEL remain invisible. Enter
 * CALIBAN, STEPHANO, and TRINCULO, all wet]

CALIBAN.
 * Pray you, tread softly, that the blind mole may not
 * Hear a foot fall: we now are near his cell.

STEPHANO.
 * Monster, your fairy, which you say is a harmless
 * fairy, has done little better than played the
 * Jack with us.

TRINCULO.
 * Monster, I do smell all horse-piss; at which my
 * nose is in great indignation.

STEPHANO.
 * So is mine.—Do you hear, monster? If I should
 * take a displeasure against you, look you,—

TRINCULO.
 * Thou wert but a lost monster.

CALIBAN.
 * 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.

TRINCULO.
 * Ay, but to lose our bottles in the pool!—

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

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

STEPHANO.
 * I will fetch off my bottle, though I be o'er
 * ears for my labour.

CALIBAN.
 * Prithee, my king, be quiet. Seest thou here,
 * This is the mouth o' the 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.

STEPHANO.
 * Give me thy hand: I do begin to have bloody
 * thoughts.

TRINCULO.
 * O King Stephano! O peer! O worthy Stephano!
 * Look what a wardrobe here is for thee!

CALIBAN.
 * Let it alone, thou fool; it is but trash.

TRINCULO.
 * O, ho, monster! we know what belongs to a
 * frippery.—O King Stephano!

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

TRINCULO.
 * Thy Grace shall have it.

CALIBAN.
 * 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.

STEPHANO.
 * 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.

TRINCULO.
 * Do, do: we steal by line and level, an't like
 * your Grace.

STEPHANO.
 * I thank thee for that jest: here's a garment
 * for't: wit shall not go unrewarded while I am king of
 * this country: 'Steal by line and level,' is an excellent
 * pass of pate: there's another garmet for't.

TRINCULO.
 * Monster, come, put some lime upon your fingers,
 * and away with the rest.

CALIBAN.
 * I will have none on't. We shall lose our time,
 * And all be turn'd to barnacles, or to apes
 * With foreheads villainous low.

STEPHANO.
 * Monster, lay-to your fingers: help to bear this
 * away where my hogshead of wine is, or I'll turn you out
 * of my kingdom. Go to; carry this.

TRINCULO.
 * And this.

STEPHANO.
 * Ay, and this.

[A noise of hunters beard. Enter divers Spirits, in
 * shape of hounds, and hunt them about; PROSPERO and
 * ARIEL setting them on]

PROSPERO.
 * Hey, Mountain, hey!

ARIEL.
 * Silver! there it goes, Silver!

PROSPERO.
 * Fury, Fury! There, Tyrant, there! hark, hark!

[CALIBAN, STEPHANO, and TRINCULO are driven out.]


 * Go, charge my goblins that they grind their joints
 * With dry convulsions; shorten up their sinews
 * With aged cramps, and more pinch-spotted make them
 * Than pard, or cat o' mountain.

ARIEL.
 * Hark, they roar.

PROSPERO.
 * Let them be hunted soundly. At this hour
 * Lies at my mercy all mine enemies;
 * Shortly shall all my labours end, and thou
 * Shalt have the air at freedom;for a little,
 * Follow, and do me service.

[Exeunt]

SCENE I. Before the cell of PROSPERO.
[Enter PROSPERO in his magic robes; and ARIEL.]

PROSPERO.
 * Now does my project gather to a head:
 * My charms crack not; my spirits obey, and time
 * Goes upright with his carriage. How's the day?

ARIEL.
 * On the sixth hour; at which time, my lord,
 * You said our work should cease.

PROSPERO.
 * I did say so,
 * When first I rais'd the tempest. Say, my spirit,
 * How fares the King and 's followers?

ARIEL.
 * Confin'd together
 * In the same fashion as you gave in charge;
 * Just as you left them: all prisoners, sir,
 * In the line-grove which weather-fends your cell;
 * They cannot budge till your release. The king,
 * His brother, and yours, abide all three distracted,
 * And the remainder mourning over them,
 * Brim full of sorrow and dismay; but chiefly
 * Him you term'd, sir, 'the good old lord, Gonzalo':
 * His tears run down his beard, like winter's drops
 * From eaves of reeds; your charm so strongly works them,
 * That if you now beheld them, your affections
 * Would become tender.

PROSPERO.
 * Dost thou think so, spirit?

ARIEL.
 * Mine would, sir, were I human.

PROSPERO.
 * And mine shall.
 * Hast thou, which art but air, a touch, a feeling
 * Of their afflictions, and shall not myself,
 * One of their kind, that relish all as sharply,
 * Passion as they, be kindlier mov'd than thou art?
 * Though with their high wrongs I am struck to the quick,
 * Yet with my nobler reason 'gainst my fury
 * Do I take part: the rarer action is
 * In virtue than in vengeance: they being penitent,
 * The sole drift of my purpose doth extend
 * Not a frown further. Go release them, Ariel.
 * My charms I'll break, their senses I'll restore,
 * And they shall be themselves.

ARIEL.
 * I'll fetch them, sir.

[Exit.]

PROSPERO.
 * Ye elves of hills, brooks, standing lakes, and
 * groves;
 * And ye that on the sands with printless foot
 * Do chase the ebbing Neptune, and do fly him
 * When he comes back; you demi-puppets that
 * By moonshine do the green sour ringlets make,
 * Whereof the ewe not bites; and you whose pastime
 * Is to make midnight mushrooms, that rejoice
 * To hear the solemn curfew; 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 thunder
 * 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
 * The pine and cedar: graves at my command
 * Have wak'd their sleepers, op'd, and let them forth
 * By my so potent art. But this rough magic
 * I here abjure; and, when I have requir'd
 * Some heavenly music,—which even now I do,—
 * To work mine end upon their senses that
 * This airy charm is for, I'll break my staff,
 * Bury it certain fathoms in the earth,
 * And deeper than did ever plummet sound
 * I'll drown my book.

[Solem music]

[Re-enter ARIEL: after him, ALONSO, with
 * frantic gesture, attended by GONZALO; SEBASTIAN
 * and ANTONIO in like manner, attended by ADRIAN
 * and FRANCISCO: they all enter the circle which
 * PROSPERO had made, and there stand charmed: which
 * PROSPERO observing, speaks.]


 * A solemn air, and the best comforter
 * To an unsettled fancy, cure thy brains,
 * Now useless, boil'd within thy skull! There stand,
 * For you are spell-stopp'd.
 * Holy Gonzalo, honourable man,
 * Mine eyes, even sociable to the show of thine,
 * Fall fellowly drops. The charm dissolves apace;
 * And as the morning steals upon the night,
 * Melting the darkness, so their rising senses
 * Begin to chase the ignorant fumes that mantle
 * Their clearer reason.—O good Gonzalo!
 * My true preserver, and a loyal sir
 * To him thou follow'st, I will pay thy graces
 * Home, both in word and deed.—Most cruelly
 * Didst thou, Alonso, use me and my daughter:
 * Thy brother was a furtherer in the act;—
 * Thou'rt pinch'd for't now, Sebastian.—Flesh and blood,
 * You, brother mine, that entertain'd ambition,
 * Expell'd remorse and nature, who, with Sebastian,—
 * Whose inward pinches therefore are most strong,—
 * Would here have kill'd your king; I do forgive thee,
 * Unnatural though thou art! Their understanding
 * Begins to swell, and the approaching tide
 * Will shortly fill the reasonable shores
 * That now lie foul and muddy. Not one of them
 * That yet looks on me, or would know me.—Ariel,
 * Fetch me the hat and rapier in my cell:—

[Exit ARIEL]


 * I will discase me, and myself present,
 * As I was sometime Milan.—Quickly, spirit;
 * Thou shalt ere long be free.

[ARIEL re-enters, singing, and helps to attire PROSPERO.]

ARIEL
 * Where the bee sucks, there suck I:
 * In a cowslip's bell I lie;
 * There I couch when owls do cry.
 * On the bat's back I do fly
 * After summer merrily:
 * Merrily, merrily shall I live now
 * Under the blossom that hangs on the bough.

PROSPERO.
 * Why, that's my dainty Ariel! I shall miss thee;
 * But yet thou shalt have freedom;—so, so, so.—
 * To the king's ship, invisible as thou art:
 * There shalt thou find the mariners asleep
 * Under the hatches; the master and the boatswain
 * Being awake, enforce them to this place,
 * And presently, I prithee.

ARIEL.
 * I drink the air before me, and return
 * Or ere your pulse twice beat.

[Exit]

GONZALO.
 * All torment, trouble, wonder and amazement
 * Inhabits here. Some heavenly power guide us
 * Out of this fearful country!

PROSPERO.
 * Behold, sir king,
 * The wronged Duke of Milan, Prospero.
 * For more assurance that a living prince
 * Does now speak to thee, I embrace thy body;
 * And to thee and thy company I bid
 * A hearty welcome.

ALONSO.
 * Whe'er thou be'st he or no,
 * Or some enchanted trifle to abuse me,
 * As late I have been, I not know: thy pulse
 * Beats, as of flesh and blood; and, since I saw thee,
 * Th' affliction of my mind amends, with which,
 * I fear, a madness held me: this must crave,—
 * An if this be at all—a most strange story.
 * Thy dukedom I resign, and do entreat
 * Thou pardon me my wrongs.—But how should Prospero
 * Be living and be here?

PROSPERO.
 * First, noble friend,
 * Let me embrace thine age; whose honour cannot
 * Be measur'd or confin'd.

GONZALO.
 * Whether this be
 * Or be not, I'll not swear.

PROSPERO.
 * You do yet taste
 * Some subtleties o' the isle, that will not let you
 * Believe things certain.—Welcome, my friends all:—
 * [Aside to SEBASTIAN and ANTONIO] But you, my brace of
 * lords, were I so minded,
 * I here could pluck his highness' frown upon you,
 * And justify you traitors: at this time
 * I will tell no tales.

SEBASTIAN.
 * [Aside] The devil speaks in him.

PROSPERO.
 * No.
 * For you, most wicked sir, whom to call brother
 * Would even infect my mouth, I do forgive
 * Thy rankest fault; all of them; and require
 * My dukedom of thee, which, perforce, I know
 * Thou must restore.

ALONSO.
 * If thou beest Prospero,
 * Give us particulars of thy preservation;
 * How thou hast met us here, whom three hours since
 * Were wrack'd upon this shore; where I have lost,—
 * How sharp the point of this remembrance is!—
 * My dear son Ferdinand.

PROSPERO.
 * I am woe for't, sir.

ALONSO.
 * Irreparable is the loss, and patience
 * Says it is past her cure.

PROSPERO.
 * I rather think
 * You have not sought her help; of whose soft grace,
 * For the like loss I have her sovereign aid,
 * And rest myself content.

ALONSO.
 * You the like loss!

PROSPERO.
 * As great to me, as late; and, supportable
 * To make the dear loss, have I means much weaker
 * Than you may call to comfort you, for I
 * Have lost my daughter.

ALONSO.
 * A daughter?
 * O heavens! that they were living both in Naples,
 * The king and queen there! That they were, I wish
 * Myself were mudded in that oozy bed
 * Where my son lies. When did you lose your daughter?

PROSPERO.
 * In this last tempest. I perceive, these lords
 * At this encounter do so much admire
 * That they devour their reason, and scarce think
 * Their eyes do offices of truth, their words
 * Are natural breath; but, howsoe'er you have
 * Been justled from your senses, know for certain
 * That I am Prospero, and that very duke
 * Which was thrust forth of Milan; who most strangely
 * Upon this shore, where you were wrack'd, was landed
 * To be the lord on't. No more yet of this;
 * For 'tis a chronicle of day by day,
 * Not a relation for a breakfast nor
 * Befitting this first meeting. Welcome, sir:
 * This cell's my court: here have I few attendants
 * And subjects none abroad: pray you, look in.
 * My dukedom since you have given me again,
 * I will requite you with as good a thing;
 * At least bring forth a wonder, to content ye
 * As much as me my dukedom.

[The entrance of the Cell opens, and discovers
 * FERDINAND and MIRANDA playing at chess.]

MIRANDA.
 * Sweet lord, you play me false.

FERDINAND.
 * No, my dearest love,
 * I would not for the world.

MIRANDA.
 * Yes, for a score of kingdoms you should wrangle,
 * And I would call it fair play.

ALONSO.
 * If this prove
 * A vision of the island, one dear son
 * Shall I twice lose.

SEBASTIAN.
 * A most high miracle!

FERDINAND.
 * Though the seas threaten, they are merciful:
 * I have curs'd them without cause.

[Kneels to ALONSO.]

ALONSO.
 * Now all the blessings
 * Of a glad father compass thee about!
 * Arise, and say how thou cam'st here.

MIRANDA.
 * O, wonder!
 * How many goodly creatures are there here!
 * How beauteous mankind is! O brave new world
 * That has such people in't!

PROSPERO.
 * 'Tis new to thee.

ALONSO.
 * What is this maid, with whom thou wast at play?
 * Your eld'st acquaintance cannot be three hours:
 * Is she the goddess that hath sever'd us,
 * And brought us thus together?

FERDINAND.
 * Sir, she is mortal;
 * But by immortal Providence she's mine.
 * I chose her when I could not ask my father
 * For his advice, nor thought I had one. She
 * Is daughter to this famous Duke of Milan,
 * Of whom so often I have heard renown,
 * But never saw before; of whom I have
 * Receiv'd a second life: and second father
 * This lady makes him to me.

ALONSO.
 * I am hers:
 * But, O! how oddly will it sound that I
 * Must ask my child forgiveness!

PROSPERO.
 * There, sir, stop:
 * Let us not burden our remembrances with
 * A heaviness that's gone.

GONZALO.
 * I have inly wept,
 * Or should have spoke ere this. Look down, you gods,
 * And on this couple drop a blessed crown;
 * For it is you that have chalk'd forth the way
 * Which brought us hither.

ALONSO.
 * I say, Amen, Gonzalo!

GONZALO.
 * Was Milan thrust from Milan, that his issue
 * Should become kings of Naples? O, rejoice
 * Beyond a common joy, and set it down
 * With gold on lasting pillars. In one voyage
 * Did Claribel her husband find at Tunis,
 * And Ferdinand, her brother, found a wife
 * Where he himself was lost; Prospero his dukedom
 * In a poor isle; and all of us ourselves,
 * When no man was his own.

ALONSO.
 * [To FERDINAND and MIRANDA] Give me your hands:
 * Let grief and sorrow still embrace his heart
 * That doth not wish you joy!

GONZALO.
 * Be it so. Amen!

[Re-enter ARIEL, with the Master and Boatswain amazedly following.]


 * O look, sir! look, sir! Here are more of us.
 * I prophesied, if a gallows were on land,
 * This fellow could not drown.—Now, blasphemy,
 * That swear'st grace o'erboard, not an oath on shore?
 * Hast thou no mouth by land? What is the news?

BOATSWAIN.
 * The best news is that we have safely found
 * Our king and company: the next, our ship,—
 * Which but three glasses since we gave out split,—
 * Is tight and yare, and bravely rigg'd as when
 * We first put out to sea.

ARIEL.
 * [Aside to PROSPERO] Sir, all this service
 * Have I done since I went.

PROSPERO.
 * [Aside to ARIEL] My tricksy spirit!

ALONSO.
 * These are not natural events; they strengthen
 * From strange to stranger—Say, how came you hither?

BOATSWAIN.
 * If I did think, sir, I were well awake,
 * I'd strive to tell you. We were dead of sleep,
 * And,—how, we know not,—all clapp'd under hatches,
 * Where, but even now, with strange and several noises
 * Of roaring, shrieking, howling, jingling chains,
 * And mo diversity of sounds, all horrible,
 * We were awak'd; straightway, at liberty:
 * Where we, in all her trim, freshly beheld
 * Our royal, good, and gallant ship; our master
 * Cap'ring to eye her: on a trice, so please you,
 * Even in a dream, were we divided from them,
 * And were brought moping hither.

ARIEL.
 * [Aside to PROSPERO] Was't well done?

PROSPERO.
 * [Aside to ARIEL] Bravely, my diligence. Thou shalt be free.

ALONSO.
 * This is as strange a maze as e'er men trod;
 * And there is in this business more than nature
 * Was ever conduct of: some oracle
 * Must rectify our knowledge.

PROSPERO.
 * Sir, my liege,
 * Do not infest your mind with beating on
 * The strangeness of this business: at pick'd leisure,
 * Which shall be shortly, single I'll resolve you,—
 * Which to you shall seem probable—of every
 * These happen'd accidents; till when, be cheerful
 * And think of each thing well.—[Aside to ARIEL] Come
 * hither, spirit;
 * Set Caliban and his companions free;
 * Untie the spell. [Exit ARIEL] How fares my gracious sir?
 * There are yet missing of your company
 * Some few odd lads that you remember not.

[Re-enter ARIEL, driving in CALIBAN, STEPHANO, and
 * TRINCULO, in their stolen apparel.]

STEPHANO.
 * Every man shift for all the rest, and let no man
 * take care for himself, for all is but fortune.—Coragio!
 * bully-monster, Coragio!

TRINCULO.
 * If these be true spies which I wear in my head,
 * here's a goodly sight.

CALIBAN.
 * O Setebos, these be brave spirits indeed.
 * How fine my master is! I am afraid
 * He will chastise me.

SEBASTIAN.
 * Ha, ha!
 * What things are these, my lord Antonio?
 * Will money buy them?

ANTONIO.
 * Very like; one of them
 * Is a plain fish, and, no doubt, marketable.

PROSPERO.
 * Mark but the badges of these men, my lords,
 * Then say if they be true.—This mis-shapen knave—
 * His mother was a witch; and one so strong
 * That could control the moon, make flows and ebbs,
 * And deal in her command without her power.
 * These three have robb'd me; and this demi-devil,—
 * For he's a bastard one,—had plotted with them
 * To take my life: two of these fellows you
 * Must know and own; this thing of darkness I
 * Acknowledge mine.

CALIBAN.
 * I shall be pinch'd to death.

ALONSO.
 * Is not this Stephano, my drunken butler?

SEBASTIAN.
 * He is drunk now: where had he wine?

ALONSO.
 * And Trinculo is reeling-ripe: where should they
 * Find this grand liquor that hath gilded them?
 * How cam'st thou in this pickle?

TRINCULO.
 * I have been in such a pickle since I saw you
 * last that, I fear me, will never out of my bones. I
 * shall not fear fly-blowing.

SEBASTIAN.
 * Why, how now, Stephano!

STEPHANO.
 * O! touch me not: I am not Stephano, but a cramp.

PROSPERO.
 * You'd be king o' the isle, sirrah?

STEPHANO.
 * I should have been a sore one, then.

ALONSO.
 * This is as strange a thing as e'er I look'd on.

[Pointing to CALIBAN]

PROSPERO.
 * He is as disproportioned in his manners
 * As in his shape.—Go, sirrah, to my cell;
 * Take with you your companions: as you look
 * To have my pardon, trim it handsomely.

CALIBAN.
 * Ay, that I will; and I'll be wise hereafter,
 * And seek for grace. What a thrice-double ass
 * Was I, to take this drunkard for a god,
 * And worship this dull fool!

PROSPERO.
 * Go to; away!

ALONSO.
 * Hence, and bestow your luggage where you found it.

SEBASTIAN.
 * Or stole it, rather.

[Exeunt CALIBAN, STEPHANO, and TRINCULO.]

PROSPERO.
 * Sir, I invite your Highness and your train
 * To my poor cell, where you shall take your rest
 * For this one night; which—part of it—I'll waste
 * With such discourse as, I not doubt, shall make it
 * Go quick away; the story of my life
 * And the particular accidents gone by
 * Since I came to this isle: and in the morn
 * I'll bring you to your ship, and so to Naples,
 * Where I have hope to see the nuptial
 * Of these our dear-belov'd solemnized;
 * And thence retire me to my Milan, where
 * Every third thought shall be my grave.

ALONSO.
 * I long To hear the story of your life, which must
 * Take the ear strangely.

PROSPERO.
 * I'll deliver all;
 * And promise you calm seas, auspicious gales,
 * And sail so expeditious that shall catch
 * Your royal fleet far off.—[Aside to ARIEL] My Ariel,
 * chick,
 * That is thy charge: then to the elements
 * Be free, and fare thou well!—Please you, draw near.

[Exeunt]

EPILOGUE

[Spoken by PROSPERO]


 * Now my charms are all o'erthrown,
 * And what strength I have's mine own;
 * Which is most faint; now 'tis true,
 * I must be here confin'd by you,
 * Or sent to Naples. Let me not,
 * Since I have my dukedom got,
 * And pardon'd the deceiver, dwell
 * In this bare island by your spell:
 * But release me from my bands
 * With the help of your good hands.
 * Gentle breath of yours my sails
 * Must fill, or else my project fails,
 * Which was to please. Now I want
 * Spirits to enforce, art to enchant;
 * And my ending is despair,
 * Unless I be reliev'd by prayer,
 * Which pierces so that it assaults
 * Mercy itself, and frees all faults.
 * As you from crimes would pardon'd be,
 * Let your indulgence set me free.


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