Abbildungen der Seite
PDF
EPUB

Cal. That's not the tune.

[Ariel plays the tune on a tabor and pipe.

Ste. What is this same?

Trin. This is the tune of our catch, played by the picture of No-body.

Ste. If thon beest a man, show thyself in thy likeness; if thou beest a devil, take't as thou list. Trin. O, forgive me my sins!

Ste. He that dies, pays all debts: I defy thee: -Mercy upon us!

Cal. Art thou afeard?

Ste. No, monster, not I.

Cal. Be not afeard; the isle is full of noises, Sounds, and sweet airs, that give delight, and hurt

not.

Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments

Will hum about mine ears; and sometimes voices,
That, if I then had wak'd after long sleep,
Will make me sleep again: and then, in dreaming,
The clouds, methought, would open, and show riches
Ready to drop upon me; that, when I wak'd,

I cry'd to dream again.

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

Cal. When Prospero is destroyed.

Ste. That shall be by and by: I remember the story.

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

Ste. Lead, monster; we'll follow.-I would, I could see this taborer: he lays it on.

Trin. Wilt come? I'll follow, Stephano.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III.

Another part of the Island.

Enter Alonso, Sebastian, Antonio, Gonzalo, Adrian, Francisco, and others.

Gon. 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 pa

tience,

I needs must rest me.

Alon.

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.
Ant. I am right glad that he's so out of hope.

[Aside to Sebastian.

[blocks in formation]

For, now they are oppress'd with travel, they
Will not, nor cannot, use such vigilance,

As when they are fresh.

Seb.

I say, to-night: no more.

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

* Our lady.

Alon. What harmony is this? my good friends,

hark!

Gon. Marvellous sweet musick!

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

Seb. 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.

Ant.
I'll believe both:
And what does else want credit, come to me,

And I'll be sworn 'tis true: Travellers ne'er did lie,
Though fools at home condemn them.

Gon.

If in Naples

I should report this now, would they believe me? If I should say I saw such islanders

(For, certest, 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.

Pro.

Honest lord,

Thou hast said well; for some of you there present, Are worse than devils.

Alon.

[Aside.

I cannot too much muset,

Such shapes, such gesture, and such sound, expressing (Although they want the use of tongue), a kind

Of excellent dumb discourse.

[blocks in formation]

They have left their viands behind; for we have

stomachs.

Will't please you taste of what is here?"

Alon.

Not I.

Gon. Faith, sir, you need not fear: When we were

boys,

• Show. VOL. I.

+ Certainly.

I Wonder.

D

Who would believe that there were mountaineers, Dew-lapp'd like bulls, whose throats had hanging at

them

Wallets of flesh? or that there were such men,

Whose heads stood in their breasts? which now we

find,

Each putter-out on five for one, will bring us
Good warrant of.

Alon.

I will stand to, and feed,

Although my last: no matter, since I feel
The best is past:-Brother, my lord the duke,
Stand too, 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.

Ari. 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; and on this island
Where man doth not inhabit; you 'mongst men
Being most unfit to live. I have made you mad ;
[Seeing Alon. Seb. &c. draw their swords.
And even with such like valour, nien hang and drown
Their proper selves. You fools! I and my fellows
Are ministers of fate; the elements

Of whom your swords are temper'd, may as well
Wound the loud winds, or with bemock'd-at stabs
Kill the still closing waters, as diminish

One dowie* 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
From Milan did supplant good Prospero;
Expos'd unto the sea, which hath requit it,
Him, and his innocent child; for which foul deed

• Down.

three

The powers, delaying, not forgetting, have
lucens'd the seas and shores, yea all the creatures,
Against your peace: Thee, of thy son, Alonso,
They have bereft; and do pronounce by me,
Lingering perdition (worse than any death
Can be at once) shall step by step attend

You, and your ways; whose wrath to guard you from

(Which here, in this most desolate isle, else falls Upon your heads), is nothing, but heart's sorrow, And a clear life ensuing.

He vanishes in thunder: then, to soft music, enter the Shapes again, and dunce with mops and mowes and carry out the table.

Pro. [Aside] Bravely the figure of this harpy

hast thou

Perform'd, my Ariel; a grace it had, devouring:
Of my instruction hast thou nothing 'bated,
In what thou hadst to say: so, with good life,
And observation strange, my meaner ministers
Their several kinds have done: my high charms work,
And these, mine enemies, are all knit up

In their distractions: they now are in my power;
And in these fits I leave them, whilst I visit

Young Ferdinand (whom they suppose is drown'd), And his and my loved darling.

[Exit Prospero from above. Gon. I'the name of something holy, sir, why stand

you

In this strange stare?

Alon. O, it is monstrous! monstrous! Methought, the billows spoke, and told me of it; The winds did sing it to me; and the thunder, That deep and dreadful organ-pipe, pronounc'd The name of Prosper; it did bass my trespass. Therefore my son i' the ooze is bedded; and

* Pure, blameless.

« ZurückWeiter »