3324 lines
97 KiB
Plaintext
3324 lines
97 KiB
Plaintext
THE TEMPEST
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DRAMATIS PERSONAE
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ALONSO King of Naples.
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SEBASTIAN his brother.
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PROSPERO the right Duke of Milan.
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ANTONIO his brother, the usurping Duke of Milan.
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FERDINAND son to the King of Naples.
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GONZALO an honest old Counsellor.
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ADRIAN |
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FRANCISCO |
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CALIBAN a savage and deformed Slave.
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TRINCULO a Jester.
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STEPHANO a drunken Butler.
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Master of a Ship. (Master:)
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Boatswain. (Boatswain:)
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Mariners. (Mariners:)
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MIRANDA daughter to Prospero.
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ARIEL an airy Spirit.
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IRIS |
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CERES |
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JUNO | presented by Spirits.
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Nymphs |
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Reapers |
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Other Spirits attending on Prospero.
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SCENE A ship at Sea: an island.
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THE TEMPEST
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ACT I
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SCENE I On a ship at sea: a tempestuous noise
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of thunder and lightning heard.
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[Enter a Master and a Boatswain]
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Master Boatswain!
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Boatswain Here, master: what cheer?
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Master Good, speak to the mariners: fall to't, yarely,
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or we run ourselves aground: bestir, bestir.
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[Exit]
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[Enter Mariners]
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Boatswain Heigh, my hearts! cheerly, cheerly, my hearts!
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yare, yare! Take in the topsail. Tend to the
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master's whistle. Blow, till thou burst thy wind,
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if room enough!
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[Enter ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, FERDINAND,
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GONZALO, and others]
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ALONSO Good boatswain, have care. Where's the master?
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Play the men.
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Boatswain I pray now, keep below.
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ANTONIO Where is the master, boatswain?
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Boatswain Do you not hear him? You mar our labour: keep your
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cabins: you do assist the storm.
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GONZALO Nay, good, be patient.
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Boatswain When the sea is. Hence! What cares these roarers
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for the name of king? To cabin: silence! trouble us not.
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GONZALO Good, yet remember whom thou hast aboard.
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Boatswain None that I more love than myself. You are a
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counsellor; if you can command these elements to
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silence, and work the peace of the present, we will
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not hand a rope more; use your authority: if you
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cannot, give thanks you have lived so long, and make
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yourself ready in your cabin for the mischance of
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the hour, if it so hap. Cheerly, good hearts! Out
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of our way, I say.
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[Exit]
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GONZALO I have great comfort from this fellow: methinks he
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hath no drowning mark upon him; his complexion is
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perfect gallows. Stand fast, good Fate, to his
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hanging: make the rope of his destiny our cable,
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for our own doth little advantage. If he be not
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born to be hanged, our case is miserable.
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[Exeunt]
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[Re-enter Boatswain]
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Boatswain Down with the topmast! yare! lower, lower! Bring
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her to try with main-course.
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[A cry within]
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A plague upon this howling! they are louder than
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the weather or our office.
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[Re-enter SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, and GONZALO]
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Yet again! what do you here? Shall we give o'er
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and drown? Have you a mind to sink?
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SEBASTIAN A pox o' your throat, you bawling, blasphemous,
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incharitable dog!
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Boatswain Work you then.
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ANTONIO Hang, cur! hang, you whoreson, insolent noisemaker!
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We are less afraid to be drowned than thou art.
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GONZALO I'll warrant him for drowning; though the ship were
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no stronger than a nutshell and as leaky as an
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unstanched wench.
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Boatswain Lay her a-hold, a-hold! set her two courses off to
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sea again; lay her off.
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[Enter Mariners wet]
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Mariners All lost! to prayers, to prayers! all lost!
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Boatswain What, must our mouths be cold?
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GONZALO The king and prince at prayers! let's assist them,
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For our case is as theirs.
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SEBASTIAN I'm out of patience.
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ANTONIO We are merely cheated of our lives by drunkards:
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This wide-chapp'd rascal--would thou mightst lie drowning
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The washing of ten tides!
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GONZALO He'll be hang'd yet,
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Though every drop of water swear against it
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And gape at widest to glut him.
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[A confused noise within: 'Mercy on us!'--
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'We split, we split!'--'Farewell, my wife and
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children!'--
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'Farewell, brother!'--'We split, we split, we split!']
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ANTONIO Let's all sink with the king.
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SEBASTIAN Let's take leave of him.
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[Exeunt ANTONIO and SEBASTIAN]
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GONZALO Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea for an
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acre of barren ground, long heath, brown furze, any
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thing. The wills above be done! but I would fain
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die a dry death.
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[Exeunt]
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THE TEMPEST
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ACT I
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SCENE II The island. Before PROSPERO'S cell.
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[Enter PROSPERO and MIRANDA]
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MIRANDA If by your art, my dearest father, you have
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Put the wild waters in this roar, allay them.
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The sky, it seems, would pour down stinking pitch,
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But that the sea, mounting to the welkin's cheek,
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Dashes the fire out. O, I have suffered
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With those that I saw suffer: a brave vessel,
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Who had, no doubt, some noble creature in her,
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Dash'd all to pieces. O, the cry did knock
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Against my very heart. Poor souls, they perish'd.
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Had I been any god of power, I would
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Have sunk the sea within the earth or ere
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It should the good ship so have swallow'd and
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The fraughting souls within her.
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PROSPERO Be collected:
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No more amazement: tell your piteous heart
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There's no harm done.
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MIRANDA O, woe the day!
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PROSPERO No harm.
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I have done nothing but in care of thee,
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Of thee, my dear one, thee, my daughter, who
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Art ignorant of what thou art, nought knowing
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Of whence I am, nor that I am more better
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Than Prospero, master of a full poor cell,
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And thy no greater father.
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MIRANDA More to know
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Did never meddle with my thoughts.
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PROSPERO 'Tis time
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I should inform thee farther. Lend thy hand,
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And pluck my magic garment from me. So:
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[Lays down his mantle]
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Lie there, my art. Wipe thou thine eyes; have comfort.
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The direful spectacle of the wreck, which touch'd
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The very virtue of compassion in thee,
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I have with such provision in mine art
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So safely ordered that there is no soul--
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No, not so much perdition as an hair
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Betid to any creature in the vessel
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Which thou heard'st cry, which thou saw'st sink. Sit down;
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For thou must now know farther.
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MIRANDA You have often
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Begun to tell me what I am, but stopp'd
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And left me to a bootless inquisition,
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Concluding 'Stay: not yet.'
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PROSPERO The hour's now come;
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The very minute bids thee ope thine ear;
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Obey and be attentive. Canst thou remember
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A time before we came unto this cell?
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I do not think thou canst, for then thou wast not
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Out three years old.
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MIRANDA Certainly, sir, I can.
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PROSPERO By what? by any other house or person?
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Of any thing the image tell me that
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Hath kept with thy remembrance.
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MIRANDA 'Tis far off
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And rather like a dream than an assurance
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That my remembrance warrants. Had I not
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Four or five women once that tended me?
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PROSPERO Thou hadst, and more, Miranda. But how is it
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That this lives in thy mind? What seest thou else
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In the dark backward and abysm of time?
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If thou remember'st aught ere thou camest here,
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How thou camest here thou mayst.
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MIRANDA But that I do not.
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PROSPERO Twelve year since, Miranda, twelve year since,
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Thy father was the Duke of Milan and
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A prince of power.
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MIRANDA Sir, are not you my father?
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PROSPERO Thy mother was a piece of virtue, and
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She said thou wast my daughter; and thy father
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Was Duke of Milan; and thou his only heir
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And princess no worse issued.
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MIRANDA O the heavens!
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What foul play had we, that we came from thence?
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Or blessed was't we did?
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PROSPERO Both, both, my girl:
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By foul play, as thou say'st, were we heaved thence,
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But blessedly holp hither.
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MIRANDA O, my heart bleeds
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To think o' the teen that I have turn'd you to,
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Which is from my remembrance! Please you, farther.
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PROSPERO My brother and thy uncle, call'd Antonio--
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I pray thee, mark me--that a brother should
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Be so perfidious!--he whom next thyself
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Of all the world I loved and to him put
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The manage of my state; as at that time
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Through all the signories it was the first
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And Prospero the prime duke, being so reputed
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In dignity, and for the liberal arts
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Without a parallel; those being all my study,
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The government I cast upon my brother
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And to my state grew stranger, being transported
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And rapt in secret studies. Thy false uncle--
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Dost thou attend me?
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MIRANDA Sir, most heedfully.
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PROSPERO Being once perfected how to grant suits,
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How to deny them, who to advance and who
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To trash for over-topping, new created
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The creatures that were mine, I say, or changed 'em,
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Or else new form'd 'em; having both the key
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Of officer and office, set all hearts i' the state
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To what tune pleased his ear; that now he was
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The ivy which had hid my princely trunk,
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And suck'd my verdure out on't. Thou attend'st not.
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MIRANDA O, good sir, I do.
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PROSPERO I pray thee, mark me.
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I, thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicated
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To closeness and the bettering of my mind
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With that which, but by being so retired,
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O'er-prized all popular rate, in my false brother
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Awaked an evil nature; and my trust,
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Like a good parent, did beget of him
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A falsehood in its contrary as great
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As my trust was; which had indeed no limit,
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A confidence sans bound. He being thus lorded,
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Not only with what my revenue yielded,
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But what my power might else exact, like one
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Who having into truth, by telling of it,
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Made such a sinner of his memory,
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To credit his own lie, he did believe
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He was indeed the duke; out o' the substitution
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And executing the outward face of royalty,
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With all prerogative: hence his ambition growing--
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Dost thou hear?
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MIRANDA Your tale, sir, would cure deafness.
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PROSPERO To have no screen between this part he play'd
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And him he play'd it for, he needs will be
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Absolute Milan. Me, poor man, my library
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Was dukedom large enough: of temporal royalties
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He thinks me now incapable; confederates--
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So dry he was for sway--wi' the King of Naples
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To give him annual tribute, do him homage,
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Subject his coronet to his crown and bend
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The dukedom yet unbow'd--alas, poor Milan!--
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To most ignoble stooping.
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MIRANDA O the heavens!
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PROSPERO Mark his condition and the event; then tell me
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If this might be a brother.
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MIRANDA I should sin
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To think but nobly of my grandmother:
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Good wombs have borne bad sons.
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PROSPERO Now the condition.
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The King of Naples, being an enemy
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To me inveterate, hearkens my brother's suit;
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Which was, that he, in lieu o' the premises
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Of homage and I know not how much tribute,
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Should presently extirpate me and mine
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Out of the dukedom and confer fair Milan
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With all the honours on my brother: whereon,
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A treacherous army levied, one midnight
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Fated to the purpose did Antonio open
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The gates of Milan, and, i' the dead of darkness,
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The ministers for the purpose hurried thence
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Me and thy crying self.
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MIRANDA Alack, for pity!
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I, not remembering how I cried out then,
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Will cry it o'er again: it is a hint
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That wrings mine eyes to't.
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PROSPERO Hear a little further
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And then I'll bring thee to the present business
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Which now's upon's; without the which this story
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Were most impertinent.
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MIRANDA Wherefore did they not
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That hour destroy us?
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PROSPERO Well demanded, wench:
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My tale provokes that question. Dear, they durst not,
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So dear the love my people bore me, nor set
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A mark so bloody on the business, but
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With colours fairer painted their foul ends.
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In few, they hurried us aboard a bark,
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Bore us some leagues to sea; where they prepared
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A rotten carcass of a boat, not rigg'd,
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Nor tackle, sail, nor mast; the very rats
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Instinctively had quit it: there they hoist us,
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To cry to the sea that roar'd to us, to sigh
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To the winds whose pity, sighing back again,
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Did us but loving wrong.
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MIRANDA Alack, what trouble
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Was I then to you!
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PROSPERO O, a cherubim
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Thou wast that did preserve me. Thou didst smile.
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Infused with a fortitude from heaven,
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When I have deck'd the sea with drops full salt,
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Under my burthen groan'd; which raised in me
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An undergoing stomach, to bear up
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Against what should ensue.
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MIRANDA How came we ashore?
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PROSPERO By Providence divine.
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Some food we had and some fresh water that
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A noble Neapolitan, Gonzalo,
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Out of his charity, being then appointed
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Master of this design, did give us, with
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Rich garments, linens, stuffs and necessaries,
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Which since have steaded much; so, of his gentleness,
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Knowing I loved my books, he furnish'd me
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From mine own library with volumes that
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I prize above my dukedom.
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MIRANDA Would I might
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But ever see that man!
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PROSPERO Now I arise:
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[Resumes his mantle]
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Sit still, and hear the last of our sea-sorrow.
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Here in this island we arrived; and here
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Have I, thy schoolmaster, made thee more profit
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Than other princesses can that have more time
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For vainer hours and tutors not so careful.
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MIRANDA Heavens thank you for't! And now, I pray you, sir,
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For still 'tis beating in my mind, your reason
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For raising this sea-storm?
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PROSPERO Know thus far forth.
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By accident most strange, bountiful Fortune,
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Now my dear lady, hath mine enemies
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Brought to this shore; and by my prescience
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I find my zenith doth depend upon
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A most auspicious star, whose influence
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If now I court not but omit, my fortunes
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Will ever after droop. Here cease more questions:
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Thou art inclined to sleep; 'tis a good dulness,
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And give it way: I know thou canst not choose.
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[MIRANDA sleeps]
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Come away, servant, come. I am ready now.
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Approach, my Ariel, come.
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[Enter ARIEL]
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ARIEL All hail, great master! grave sir, hail! I come
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To answer thy best pleasure; be't to fly,
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To swim, to dive into the fire, to ride
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On the curl'd clouds, to thy strong bidding task
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Ariel and all his quality.
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PROSPERO Hast thou, spirit,
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Perform'd to point the tempest that I bade thee?
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ARIEL To every article.
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I boarded the king's ship; now on the beak,
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Now in the waist, the deck, in every cabin,
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I flamed amazement: sometime I'ld divide,
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And burn in many places; on the topmast,
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The yards and bowsprit, would I flame distinctly,
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Then meet and join. Jove's lightnings, the precursors
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O' the dreadful thunder-claps, more momentary
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And sight-outrunning were not; the fire and cracks
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Of sulphurous roaring the most mighty Neptune
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Seem to besiege and make his bold waves tremble,
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Yea, his dread trident shake.
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PROSPERO My brave spirit!
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Who was so firm, so constant, that this coil
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Would not infect his reason?
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ARIEL Not a soul
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But felt a fever of the mad and play'd
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Some tricks of desperation. All but mariners
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Plunged in the foaming brine and quit the vessel,
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Then all afire with me: the king's son, Ferdinand,
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With hair up-staring,--then like reeds, not hair,--
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Was the first man that leap'd; cried, 'Hell is empty
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And all the devils are here.'
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PROSPERO Why that's my spirit!
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But was not this nigh shore?
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ARIEL Close by, my master.
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PROSPERO But are they, Ariel, safe?
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ARIEL Not a hair perish'd;
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On their sustaining garments not a blemish,
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But fresher than before: and, as thou badest me,
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In troops I have dispersed them 'bout the isle.
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The king's son have I landed by himself;
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Whom I left cooling of the air with sighs
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In an odd angle of the isle and sitting,
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His arms in this sad knot.
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PROSPERO Of the king's ship
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The mariners say how thou hast disposed
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And all the rest o' the fleet.
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ARIEL Safely in harbour
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Is the king's ship; in the deep nook, where once
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Thou call'dst me up at midnight to fetch dew
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From the still-vex'd Bermoothes, there she's hid:
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The mariners all under hatches stow'd;
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Who, with a charm join'd to their suffer'd labour,
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I have left asleep; and for the rest o' the fleet
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Which I dispersed, they all have met again
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And are upon the Mediterranean flote,
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Bound sadly home for Naples,
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Supposing that they saw the king's ship wreck'd
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And his great person perish.
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PROSPERO Ariel, thy charge
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Exactly is perform'd: but there's more work.
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What is the time o' the day?
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ARIEL Past the mid season.
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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 promised,
|
|
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 thee no mistakings, served
|
|
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' the earth
|
|
When it is baked 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-eyed 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 freckled 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 arrived 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 spiriting 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' the 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 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, for that 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 'em.
|
|
|
|
CALIBAN I must eat my dinner.
|
|
This island's mine, by Sycorax my mother,
|
|
Which thou takest from me. When thou camest first,
|
|
Thou strokedst me and madest 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 loved thee
|
|
And show'd thee all the qualities o' the isle,
|
|
The fresh springs, brine-pits, barren place and fertile:
|
|
Cursed 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' the island.
|
|
|
|
PROSPERO Thou most lying slave,
|
|
Whom stripes may move, not kindness! I have used thee,
|
|
Filth as thou art, with human care, and lodged thee
|
|
In mine own cell, till thou didst seek to violate
|
|
The honour of my child.
|
|
|
|
CALIBAN O ho, O ho! would't had been done!
|
|
Thou didst prevent me; I had peopled 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 confined into this rock,
|
|
Who hadst deserved 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:
|
|
Courtsied when you have and kiss'd
|
|
The wild waves whist,
|
|
Foot it featly here and there;
|
|
And, sweet sprites, the burthen bear.
|
|
Hark, hark!
|
|
|
|
[Burthen [dispersedly, within] Bow-wow]
|
|
|
|
The watch-dogs bark!
|
|
|
|
[Burthen Bow-wow]
|
|
|
|
Hark, hark! I hear
|
|
The strain of strutting chanticleer
|
|
Cry, Cock-a-diddle-dow.
|
|
|
|
FERDINAND Where should this music be? i' the air or the earth?
|
|
It sounds no more: and sure, it waits upon
|
|
Some god o' the island. Sitting on a bank,
|
|
Weeping again the king my father's wreck,
|
|
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
|
|
|
|
[Burthen 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 seest
|
|
Was in the wreck; and, but he's something stain'd
|
|
With grief that's 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 wreck'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
|
|
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 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 inclined my way!
|
|
|
|
FERDINAND 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 owest 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 Follow me.
|
|
Speak not you for him; he's a traitor. Come;
|
|
I'll manacle thy neck and feet together:
|
|
Sea-water shalt thou drink; thy food shall be
|
|
The fresh-brook muscles, wither'd roots and husks
|
|
Wherein the acorn cradled. Follow.
|
|
|
|
FERDINAND No;
|
|
I will resist such entertainment till
|
|
Mine enemy has more power.
|
|
|
|
[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 makest a show but darest 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 imposter! 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 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 wreck 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' the 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 free
|
|
As mountain winds: but then exactly do
|
|
All points of my command.
|
|
|
|
ARIEL To the syllable.
|
|
|
|
PROSPERO Come, follow. Speak not for him.
|
|
|
|
[Exeunt]
|
|
|
|
THE TEMPEST
|
|
|
|
ACT II
|
|
|
|
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,--
|
|
|
|
ADRIAN Yet,--
|
|
|
|
ANTONIO He could not miss't.
|
|
|
|
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 perfumed 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 vouched 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 stained 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.
|
|
|
|
SEBASTIAN His word is more than the miraculous harp; he hath
|
|
raised 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.
|
|
|
|
GONZALO Ay.
|
|
|
|
ANTONIO Why, in good time.
|
|
|
|
GONZALO 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 fished 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 removed
|
|
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 the shore, that o'er his wave-worn basis bow'd,
|
|
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 importuned otherwise
|
|
By all of us, and the fair soul herself
|
|
Weigh'd between loathness and obedience, at
|
|
Which end o' the 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 dear'st o' 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'ld 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 its 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 God 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 laughed 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 metal; 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 except 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 inclined 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' the climate.
|
|
|
|
SEBASTIAN Why
|
|
Doth it not then our eyelids sink? I find not
|
|
Myself disposed 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 me thinks I see it in thy face,
|
|
What thou shouldst 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 persuade,--
|
|
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
|
|
And 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 doubt 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' the moon's too slow--till new-born 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 seized 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 payest;
|
|
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 talk apart]
|
|
|
|
[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 them living.
|
|
|
|
[Sings in GONZALO's ear]
|
|
|
|
While you here do snoring lie,
|
|
Open-eyed 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 shaked 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' the island.
|
|
|
|
ALONSO Lead away.
|
|
|
|
ARIEL Prospero my lord shall know what I have done:
|
|
So, king, go safely on to seek thy son.
|
|
|
|
[Exeunt]
|
|
|
|
THE TEMPEST
|
|
|
|
ACT II
|
|
|
|
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 hedgehogs which
|
|
Lie tumbling in my barefoot way and mount
|
|
Their pricks at my footfall; 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' the 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 lazy out ten to see a dead
|
|
Indian. Legged 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 a
|
|
thunderbolt.
|
|
|
|
[Thunder]
|
|
|
|
Alas, the storm is come again! my best way is to
|
|
creep under his gaberdine; there is no other
|
|
shelter hereabouts: 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 ashore--
|
|
|
|
This is a very scurvy tune to sing at a man's
|
|
funeral: well, here's my comfort. [Drinks]
|
|
|
|
[Sings]
|
|
|
|
The master, the swabber, the boatswain and I,
|
|
The gunner and his mate
|
|
Loved Mall, Meg and Marian and Margery,
|
|
But none of us cared for Kate;
|
|
For she had a tongue with a tang,
|
|
Would cry to a sailor, Go hang!
|
|
She loved not the savour of tar nor of pitch,
|
|
Yet a tailor might scratch her where'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: Oh!
|
|
|
|
STEPHANO What's the matter? Have we devils here? Do you put
|
|
tricks upon's 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; Oh!
|
|
|
|
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 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: 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 afeard--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
|
|
camest thou to be the siege of this moon-calf? can
|
|
he vent Trinculos?
|
|
|
|
TRINCULO I took him to be killed with a thunder-stroke. But
|
|
art thou not drowned, Stephano? I hope now thou art
|
|
not drowned. 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 camest thou hither?
|
|
swear by this bottle how thou camest hither. I
|
|
escaped upon a butt of sack which the sailors
|
|
heaved o'erboard, 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 Here, kiss the book. 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
|
|
sea-side where my wine is hid. How now, moon-calf!
|
|
how does thine ague?
|
|
|
|
CALIBAN Hast thou not dropp'd from heaven?
|
|
|
|
STEPHANO Out o' the moon, I do assure thee: I was the man i'
|
|
the moon when time was.
|
|
|
|
CALIBAN I have seen thee in her and I do adore thee:
|
|
My mistress show'd 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' th' island;
|
|
And I will kiss thy foot: I prithee, be my god.
|
|
|
|
TRINCULO By this light, a most perfidious and drunken
|
|
monster! when 's 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 pignuts;
|
|
Show thee a jay's nest and instruct thee how
|
|
To snare the nimble marmoset; I'll bring thee
|
|
To clustering 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 [Sings drunkenly]
|
|
Farewell master; farewell, farewell!
|
|
|
|
TRINCULO A howling monster: a drunken monster!
|
|
|
|
CALIBAN No more dams I'll make for fish
|
|
Nor fetch in firing
|
|
At requiring;
|
|
Nor scrape trencher, nor wash dish
|
|
'Ban, 'Ban, Cacaliban
|
|
Has a new master: get a new man.
|
|
|
|
Freedom, hey-day! hey-day, freedom! freedom,
|
|
hey-day, freedom!
|
|
|
|
STEPHANO O brave monster! Lead the way.
|
|
|
|
[Exeunt]
|
|
|
|
THE TEMPEST
|
|
|
|
ACT III
|
|
|
|
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 composed 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 lest, when I do it.
|
|
|
|
[Enter MIRANDA; and PROSPERO at a distance, unseen]
|
|
|
|
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 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 Admired Miranda!
|
|
Indeed the top of admiration! worth
|
|
What's dearest to the world! Full many a lady
|
|
I have eyed with best regard and many a time
|
|
The harmony of their tongues hath into bondage
|
|
Brought my too diligent ear: for several virtues
|
|
Have I liked several women; never any
|
|
With so fun soul, but some defect in her
|
|
Did quarrel with the noblest grace she owed
|
|
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 skilless 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 Fair encounter
|
|
Of two most rare affections! Heavens rain grace
|
|
On that which breeds between 'em!
|
|
|
|
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, it 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 surprised 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]
|
|
|
|
THE TEMPEST
|
|
|
|
ACT III
|
|
|
|
SCENE II Another part of the island.
|
|
|
|
[Enter CALIBAN, 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's 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 a 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 pleased 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, a
|
|
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's tale, by
|
|
this hand, I will supplant some of your teeth.
|
|
|
|
TRINCULO Why, I said nothing.
|
|
|
|
STEPHANO Mum, then, and no more. 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 darest,
|
|
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 mayst knock a nail into his bead.
|
|
|
|
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.
|
|
|
|
[Beats TRINCULO]
|
|
|
|
As you like this, give me the lie another time.
|
|
|
|
TRINCULO I did not give the lie. Out o' your
|
|
wits and bearing 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 farther
|
|
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 mayst brain him,
|
|
Having first seized 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 makest 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 tabour 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 sometime voices
|
|
That, if I then had waked 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 waked,
|
|
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 tabourer; he lays it on.
|
|
|
|
TRINCULO Wilt come? I'll follow, Stephano.
|
|
|
|
[Exeunt]
|
|
|
|
THE TEMPEST
|
|
|
|
ACT III
|
|
|
|
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 the 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, forego the purpose
|
|
That you resolved 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]
|
|
|
|
ALONSO What harmony is this? My good friends, hark!
|
|
|
|
GONZALO Marvellous sweet music!
|
|
|
|
[Enter 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 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 'em.
|
|
|
|
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
|
|
Dew-lapp'd like bulls, whose throats had hanging at 'em
|
|
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;
|
|
And even with such-like valour men hang and drown
|
|
Their proper selves.
|
|
|
|
[ALONSO, SEBASTIAN &c. draw their swords]
|
|
|
|
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;
|
|
Exposed unto the sea, which hath requit it,
|
|
Him and his innocent child: for which foul deed
|
|
The powers, delaying, not forgetting, have
|
|
Incensed 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 carrying out the table]
|
|
|
|
PROSPERO 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 loved 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, pronounced
|
|
The name of Prosper: it did bass my trespass.
|
|
Therefore my son i' the 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]
|
|
|
|
THE TEMPEST
|
|
|
|
ACT IV
|
|
|
|
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 I
|
|
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 purchased 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-eyed 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 the 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]
|
|
|
|
[Enter IRIS]
|
|
|
|
IRIS Ceres, most bounteous lady, thy rich leas
|
|
Of wheat, rye, barley, vetches, oats and pease;
|
|
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-right shall be paid
|
|
Till Hymen's torch be lighted: but vain;
|
|
Mars's hot minion is returned 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 High'st 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.
|
|
|
|
[They sing:]
|
|
|
|
JUNO Honour, riches, marriage-blessing,
|
|
Long continuance, and increasing,
|
|
Hourly joys be still upon you!
|
|
Juno sings her blessings upon you.
|
|
|
|
CERES Earth's increase, foison plenty,
|
|
Barns and garners never empty,
|
|
Vines and clustering bunches growing,
|
|
Plants with goodly burthen 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
|
|
Harmoniously 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 wife
|
|
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 sedged 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 sunburnt 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 moved 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,
|
|
Ye 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, brain is troubled:
|
|
Be not disturb'd with my infirmity:
|
|
If you be pleased, retire into my cell
|
|
And there repose: a turn or two I'll walk,
|
|
To still my beating mind.
|
|
|
|
FERDINAND |
|
|
| We wish your peace.
|
|
MIRANDA |
|
|
|
|
[Exeunt]
|
|
|
|
PROSPERO Come with a thought 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 fun 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 tabour;
|
|
At which, like unback'd colts, they prick'd
|
|
their ears,
|
|
Advanced 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 entered 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 I what do you mean
|
|
To dote thus on such luggage? Let's alone
|
|
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 garment 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 villanous 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 heard. Enter divers Spirits,
|
|
in shape of dogs and hounds, and hunt them about,
|
|
PROSPERO and ARIEL setting them on]
|
|
|
|
PROSPERO Hey, Mountain, hey!
|
|
|
|
ARIEL Silver I 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
|
|
Lie 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]
|
|
|
|
THE TEMPEST
|
|
|
|
ACT V
|
|
|
|
SCENE I Before PROSPERO'S cell.
|
|
|
|
[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 raised the tempest. Say, my spirit,
|
|
How fares the king and's followers?
|
|
|
|
ARIEL Confined 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,
|
|
Brimful of sorrow and dismay; but chiefly
|
|
Him that 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 'em
|
|
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 moved than thou art?
|
|
Though with their high wrongs I am struck to the quick,
|
|
Yet with my nobler reason 'gaitist 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 azured 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-based promontory
|
|
Have I made shake and by the spurs pluck'd up
|
|
The pine and cedar: graves at my command
|
|
Have waked their sleepers, oped, and let 'em forth
|
|
By my so potent art. But this rough magic
|
|
I here abjure, and, when I have required
|
|
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.
|
|
|
|
[Solemn music]
|
|
|
|
[Re-enter ARIEL before: then ALONSO, with a
|
|
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 you 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 art pinch'd fort 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 shore
|
|
That now lies 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:
|
|
I will discase me, and myself present
|
|
As I was sometime Milan: quickly, spirit;
|
|
Thou shalt ere long be free.
|
|
|
|
[ARIEL sings and helps to attire him]
|
|
|
|
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 Whether thou best 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,
|
|
The 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 measured or confined.
|
|
|
|
GONZALO Whether this be
|
|
Or be not, I'll not swear.
|
|
|
|
PROSPERO You do yet taste
|
|
Some subtilties 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 be'st Prospero,
|
|
Give us particulars of thy preservation;
|
|
How thou hast met us here, who three hours since
|
|
Were wreck'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 wreck'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.
|
|
|
|
[Here PROSPERO discovers FERDINAND and MIRANDA
|
|
playing at chess]
|
|
|
|
MIRANDA Sweet lord, you play me false.
|
|
|
|
FERDINAND No, my dear'st 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 cursed them without cause.
|
|
|
|
[Kneels]
|
|
|
|
ALONSO Now all the blessings
|
|
Of a glad father compass thee about!
|
|
Arise, and say how thou camest 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
|
|
Received 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 burthen our remembrance with
|
|
A heaviness that's gone.
|
|
|
|
GONZALO I have inly wept,
|
|
Or should have spoke ere this. Look down, you god,
|
|
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 is 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'ld 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 more diversity of sounds, all horrible,
|
|
We were awaked; straightway, at liberty;
|
|
Where we, in all her trim, freshly beheld
|
|
Our royal, good and gallant ship, our master
|
|
Capering 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.
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ALONSO This is as strange a maze as e'er men trod
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And there is in this business more than nature
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Was ever conduct of: some oracle
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Must rectify our knowledge.
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PROSPERO Sir, my liege,
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Do not infest your mind with beating on
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The strangeness of this business; at pick'd leisure
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Which shall be shortly, single I'll resolve you,
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Which to you shall seem probable, of every
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These happen'd accidents; till when, be cheerful
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And think of each thing well.
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[Aside to ARIEL]
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Come hither, spirit:
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Set Caliban and his companions free;
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Untie the spell.
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[Exit ARIEL]
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How fares my gracious sir?
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There are yet missing of your company
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Some few odd lads that you remember not.
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[Re-enter ARIEL, driving in CALIBAN, STEPHANO
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and TRINCULO, in their stolen apparel]
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STEPHANO Every man shift for all the rest, and
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let no man take care for himself; for all is
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|
but fortune. Coragio, bully-monster, coragio!
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TRINCULO If these be true spies which I wear in my head,
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here's a goodly sight.
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CALIBAN O Setebos, these be brave spirits indeed!
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How fine my master is! I am afraid
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He will chastise me.
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SEBASTIAN Ha, ha!
|
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What things are these, my lord Antonio?
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|
Will money buy 'em?
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ANTONIO Very like; one of them
|
|
Is a plain fish, and, no doubt, marketable.
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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!
|
|
Acknowledge mine.
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|
|
|
CALIBAN I shall be pinch'd to death.
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ALONSO Is not this Stephano, my drunken butler?
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SEBASTIAN He is drunk now: where had he wine?
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ALONSO And Trinculo is reeling ripe: where should they
|
|
Find this grand liquor that hath gilded 'em?
|
|
How camest thou in this pickle?
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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.
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SEBASTIAN Why, how now, Stephano!
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STEPHANO O, touch me not; I am not Stephano, but a cramp.
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PROSPERO You'ld be king o' the isle, sirrah?
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STEPHANO I should have been a sore one then.
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ALONSO This is a strange thing as e'er I look'd on.
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|
|
[Pointing to Caliban]
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PROSPERO He is as disproportion'd 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.
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|
|
|
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!
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|
PROSPERO Go to; away!
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ALONSO Hence, and bestow your luggage where you found it.
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SEBASTIAN Or stole it, rather.
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[Exeunt CALIBAN, STEPHANO, and TRINCULO]
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|
|
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-beloved 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.
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|
|
|
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]
|
|
|
|
THE TEMPEST
|
|
|
|
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 confined 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 relieved 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.
|