Complete Works

Cal. 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.

up;

[cramps, Pro. For this, be sure, to-night thou shalt have Side-stitches that shall thy breath pen urchins Shall, for that vast of night that they may work, All exercise on thee: thou shalt be pinch'd As thick as honey-combs, each pinch more stinging Than bees that made them. Cal. I must eat my dinner. This island's mine, by Sycorax my mother, Which thou tak'st from me. When thou camest first, Thou strok'dst me, and mad'st much of me; would'st Water with berries in 't; and teach me how [give me To name the bigger light, and how the less, That burn by day and night: and then I lov'd thee, And shew'd thee all the qualities o' the isle, The fresh springs, brine pits, barren place, and fertile : Cursed be I that I 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, while you do keep from me The rest of the island.

Pro.

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

Cat. O ho, Oho!—'would it had been done! Thou did'st prevent me; I had peopled else This isle with Calibans.

PTO. Abhorred slave; Which any print of goodness will 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 did'st not, savage, Know thine own meaning, but would'st gabble like A thing most brutish, I endow'd thy purposes With words that made them known: But thy vile race, Though thou didst learn, had that in't which good

natures

Could not abide to be with; therefore wast thou
Deservedly confin'd into this rock,
Who had'st deserv'd more than a prison.

Cal. 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!

Pro. Hag-seed, hence! Fetch us in fuel; and be quick, thou wert 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; Full all thy bones with aches; make thee roar That beasts shall tremble at thy din.

Cal.

[Aside.

No, pray thee!I must obey: his art is of such power, It would control my dam's god, Setebos, And make a vassal of him.

Pro.

So, slave; hence ! [Exit CALIBAN.

Be-enter ARIEL invisible, playing and singing; FERDINAND following him.

ARIEL'S Song.

Come unto these yellow sands,

And then take hands:

Fer. Where should this music be? i' the air, or the It sounds no more:-and sure it waits upon [earth? Some god of the island. Sitting on a bank Weeping again the king my father's wreck, This music crept by me upon the waters; Allaving 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 :

Hark! now I hear them,-ding-dong, bell.
[Burden, ding dong.

Fer. 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.
Pro. The fringed curtain of thine eye advance
And say, what thou seest yond'.

Mira. What is 't? a spirit? Lord, how it looks about! Believe me, sir, It carries a brave form :-But 'tis a spirit. Pro. No, wench; it eats and sleeps, and hath

such senses

Was in the wreck; and but he's something stain'd As we have, such: This gallant, which thou seest, With grief-that's beauty canker-thou might'st call A goodly person. He hath lost his fellows, [him And strays about to find them.

Mira.

I might call him

A thing divine; for nothing natural
I ever saw so noble.
Pro.

It goes on, I see, [Aside. As my soul prompts it :-Spirit, fine spirit! I'll free Within two days for this.

[thee Fer. 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?

Mira.

But, certainly a maid. Fer.

No wonder, sır;

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

Pro.

How! the best?

What wert thou, if the king of Naples heard thee? Fer. 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, ne'er since at ebb, beheld The king my father wreck'd.

Let liberty make use of; space enough lords; the duke of Have I, in such a prison. Pro.

Fer. Yes, faith, and all his And his brave son, being twain. [Milan, Pro. The duke of Milan, And his more braver daughter, could control thee, If now 'twere fit to do 't :-At the first sight [Aside. They have chang'd eyes :-Delicate Ariel, I'll set thee free for this!-A word, good sir; I fear you have done yourself some wrong: a word. Mira. Why speaks my father so ungently? This Is the third man that e'er I saw; the first That e'er I sigh'd for: pity move my father To be inclin'd my way! O, if a virgin, And your affection not gone forth, I'll make you The queen of Naples. Pro.

Fer.

Soft, sir; one word more.— They are both in either's powers; but this swift

It works:- Come on.Thou hast done well, fine Ariel !-Follow me.[To FERD. and MIR.

Hark, what thou else shalt do me.
Mira.

[To ARIEL. Be of comfort;

business

[Aside.

I must uneasy make, lest too light winning
Make the prize light.-One word more; I charge
That thou attend me: thou dost here usurp
The name thou ow'st not; and hast put thyself
Upon this island, as a spy, to win it

[thee,

Enter

From me, the lord on 't.

ACT II.

SCENE I.-Another part of the Island.

ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, GONZALO,
ADRIAN, FRANCISCO, and others.

Gon. '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.

Beseech you, father!

Sir, have pity,

What!

Ant. The cockrel.

Silence! one word more Shall make me chide thee, if not hate thee. An advocate for an impostor? hush!

Thou think'st there are 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.

Mira.

My affections

Are then most humble; I have no ambition

To see a goodlier man.
Pro.
Come on; obey: [To FERD.
Thy nerves are in their infancy again,
And have no vigour in them.
Fer.
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, or 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

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

Seb. The old cock.

Seb. No; he doth but mistake the truth totally. Gon. But the rarity of it is (which is indeed almost beyond credit)

Seb. As many vouch'd rarities are.

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

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

Seb. Ay, or very falsely pocket up his report. Go. 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. Seb. 'Twas a sweet marriage, and we prosper well in our return.

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

Gen. Not since widow Dido's time.

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

Seb. What if he had said, widower Æneas too? good lord, how you take it!

Adr. Widow Dido, said you? you make me study
of that: She was of Carthage, not of Tunis.
Gon. This Tunis, sir, was Carthage.
Adr. Carthage?

Gen. I assure you, Carthage.

Ast. His word is more than the miraculous harp.
Seb. He hath rais'd the wall, and houses too.
Ant. What impossible matter will he make easynext?
Seb. I think he will carry this island home in his
pocket, and give it his son for an apple.

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

Gon. Av ?

Ant. Why, in good time.

Seb.

Foul weather?

Ant.
Very foul.
Gon. Had I a plantation of this isle, my lord,—
Ant. He'd sow it with nettle-seed.

Seb.
Or docks, or mallows.
Gon. And were the king of it, What would I do?
Seb. 'Scape being drunk, for want of wine.
Gon. 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; no use of service,
Of riches, or of poverty; no contracts,
Successions; 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 :-

Seb. And yet he would be king on't. [beginning.
Ant. The latter end of his commonwealth forgets the
Gon. All things in common nature should produce
Without sweat or endeavour: treason, felony,
mar-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.

Gen. Sir, we were talking, that our garments seem
Dow as fresh as when we were at Tunis at the
rage of your daughter, who is now queen.

Ast. And the rarest that e'er came there.
Seb. 'Bate, I beseech you, widow Dido.
Ant. 0, widow Dido; ay, widow Dido.

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

Ant. That sort was well fish'd for.
Gen. When I wore it at your daughter's marriage?
Alon. You cram these words into mine ears, against
The stomach of my sense: 'Would I had never
Married my daughter there! for, coming thence,
My son is lost; and, in my rate, she too,
Who is so far from Italy remov'd,

I se'er again shall see her. O thou mine heir
Of Naples and of Milan, what strange fish
Hath made his meal on thee!

Fran.

Sir, he may live ;
I saw him beat the surges under him,
And ride upon their backs; he trod the water,

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
Hself with his good arms in lusty stroke

Is the shore, that o'er his wave-worn basis bow'd,
As stooping to relieve him; I not doubt,
He came alive to land.

Seb. No marrying 'mong his subjects?
Ant. None, man; all idle; whores and knaves.
Gon. I would with such perfection govern, sir,
To excel the golden age.

[to me.

Seb. 'Save his majesty ! Ant. Long live Gonzalo ! Gon. And, do you mark me, sir?Alon. Pr'ythee, no more: thou dost talk nothing Gon. 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.

Ant. 'Twas you we laugh'd at.

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

Ant. What a blow was there given?
Seb. An it had not fallen flat-long.

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

Enter ARIEL, invisible, playing solemn music. Seb. We would so, and then go a bat-fowling,

Ant. Nay, good my lord, be not angry. Gon. No, I warrant you; I will not adventure my discretion so weakly. Will you laugh me asleep, for I am very heavy?

Ant. Go sleep, and hear us.

[All sleep but ALON. SEB. and ANT. Alon. What, all so soon asleep! I wish mine eyes Would, with themselves, shut up my thoughts: I They are inclin'd to do so. [find, Seb.

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

Will guard your person while you take your rest, And watch your safety.

Alon.

Thank you: wondrous heavy. [ALONSO sleeps. Exit ARIEL. Seb. What a strange drowsiness possesses them! Ant. It is the quality o' the climate.

Seb. Why Doth it not then our eye-lids sink? I find not Myself dispos'd to sleep.

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

What, art thou waking? Ant. Do you not hear me speak? Seb.

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

Ant.

Noble Sebastian, Thou let'st thy fortune sleep-die rather; wink'st Whiles thou art waking.

Seb.
Thou dost snore distinctly;
There's meaning in thy snores.

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

Seb. Ant. 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, from whom We were all sea-swallow'd, though some cast again; And, by that, destin'd to perform an act, Whereof what's past is prologue; what to come, In yours and my discharge.

Seb.

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.

Ant.
A space whose every cubit
Seems to cry out, How shall that Claribel
Measure us back to Naples ?-Keep in Tunis,
And let Sebastian wake!-Say, this were death
That now hath seiz'd them; why, they were no worse
Than now they are: There be, that can rule Naples,
As well as he that sleeps; lords, that can prate
As amply and unnecessarily,,

As this Gonzalo; I myself could make
A chough of as deep chat. O, that you bore
The mind that I do! what a sleep were this
For your advancement! Do you understand me?
Seb. Methinks, I do.
Ant.
And how does your content
Tender your own good fortune?
Seb.

I remember,
You did supplant your brother Prospero.

True:

Ant. 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.

Seb. But, for your conscience

Ant. Ay, sir; where lies that? if it were a kybe,
"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: 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.

Seb.

Thy case, dear friend,

Shall be my precedent; as thou got'st Milan,

I'll come by Naples. Draw thy sword: one stroke Shall free thee from the tribute which thou pay'st; And I the king shall love thee.

Ant.

Draw together:

And when I rear my hand, do you the like, To fall it on Gonzalo.

Seb. O, but one word.

[They converse apart.

Music. Re-enter ARIEL, invisible.

Ari. My master through his art foresees the danger That these, his friends, 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-ey'd conspiracy

His time doth take:
If of life you keep a care,
Shake off slumber, and beware:
Awake! Awake!

Ant. Then let us both be sudden.
Gon. Now, good angels, preserve the king!

[They awake.
Alon. Why, how now, ho! awake! Why are you
Wherefore this ghastly looking.
[drawn?
Gon.
What's the matter?
Seb. Whiles we stood here securing your repose,
Even now, we heard a hollow burst of bellowing
Like bulls, or rather lions; did it not wake you?
It struck mine ear most terribly.

Alon

I heard nothing.
Ant. 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.

Alon.

Heard you this, Gonzalo ?
Gon. Upon mine honour, sir, I heard a humming,
And that a strange one too, which did awake me:
I shak'd you, sir, and cry'd; as mine eyes open'd,
I saw their weapons drawn:-there was a noise,
That's verity: 'Tis best we stand upon our guard;
Or that we quit this place: let's draw our weapons.
Alen. Lead off this ground; and let's make farther
For my poor son.
[search
Goa.
Heavens keep him from the beasts!
For he is, sure, i' the island.

SCENE IL-Another part of the Island.

Enter CALIBAN, with a burden of wood.
A noise of thunder heard.

Cal. All the infections that the sun sucks up
From bogs, fens, flats, on Prosper fall, and make him
By zach-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 fire-brand, in the dark
Out of my way, unless he bid them; but
For every trifle are they set upon me :
Sometimes like apes, that moe and chatter at me,
And after, bite me; then like hedge-hogs, which
Lie tumbling in my barefoot way, and mount
Ther pricks at my foot-fall; sometime am I
Al wound with adders, who, with cloven tongues,
Do hiss me into madness:-Lo! now! lo!

Enter TRINCULO.

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.

Trim. 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 bumbard that would shed his liquor. If it should thunder, as it did before, I know not where to hide my head: yond' same clead cannot choose but fall by pailfulls.-What have we here? a man or a fish? Dead or alive? A fish he smells like a fish; a very ancient and fish-like smell; a kind of, not of the newest, Poor-John. A strange fish! Were I in England now, (as once I

was,) and had but this fish painted, not a holiday
fool there but would give a piece of silver: there
would this monster make a man; any strange beast
there makes a man: when they will not give a doit
to relieve a lame beggar, they will lay out ten to see
a dead Indian. Legg'd like a man! and his fins
like arms! Warm, o' my troth! I do now let loose
my opinion, hold it no longer; this is no fish, but an
islander, that hath lately suffered by a thunder-bolt.
[Thunder.] Alas! the storm is come again: my best
way to creep under his gaberdine; there is no
with strange bed-fellows. I will here shroud, till
other shelter hereabout: Misery acquaints a man
the dregs of the storm be past.

Enter STEPHANO, singing; a bottle in his hand.
STE. I shall no more to sea, to sea,
Here shall I die a-shore ;-

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

The master, the swabber, the boatswain, and 1,
The gunner, and his mate,

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

This is a scurvy tune too: But here's my comfort.
[Drinks.

Cal. Do not torment me: O!

Ste. What's the matter? Have we devils here? Do you put tricks upon us with savages, and men of now of your four legs; for it hath been said, As Inde? Ha! I have not 'scap'd drowning, to be afeard 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 nostrils.

Cal. The spirit torments me: O!

Ste. 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 re-
cover him, and keep him tame, and get to Naples
trod on neat's leather.
with him, he's a present for any emperor that ever

Cal. Do not torment me, pr'ythee;
I'll bring my wood home faster.

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

Cal. Thou dost me yet but little hurt; thou wilt
Anon, I know it by thy trembling;
Now Prosper works upon thee.

Ste. 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.

Trin. I should know that voice: It should beBut he is drowned; and these are devils: O! defend me !

Ste. 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.

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