As amply, and unnecessarily,

As this Gonzalo; I myself could make

21

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.

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, 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 22, as a cat laps milk;
They'll tell the clock to

We

say befits the hour.

Seb.

any business that

Thy case, dear friend,

21 A chough is a bird of the jackdaw kind.

22 Suggestion is frequently used in the sense of temptation, or seduction, by Shakspeare and his contemporaries. The sense here is that they will adopt and bear witness to any tale that may be dictated to them.

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.

Musick. Re-enter ARIEL, invisible.

Ari. My master through his art foresees the danger That you, his friend, are in; and sends me forth, For else his projects die 23, 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 wake. Alon. Why, how now, ho! awake! Why are you

drawn?

Wherefore this ghastly looking?

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.

23 The old copies read "For else his project dies." By the transposition of a letter this passage, which has much puzzled the editors, is rendered more intelligible."— -to keep them living," relates to projects, and not to Alonzo and Gonzalo, as Steevens and Johnson erroneously supposed.

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 cried; as mine eyes open'd, I saw their weapons drawn:-there was a noise, That's verity: 'Best stand upon our guard;

Or that we quit this place: let's draw our weapons. Alon. Lead off this ground; and let's make further search

For my poor son.

Gon.

Heavens keep him from these beasts!

For he is, sure, i' the island.

Alon.

Lead away.

Ari. Prospero my lord shall know what I have

done:

So, king, go safely on to seek thy son.

[Aside. [Exeunt.

SCENE II. 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 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 fire-brand, in the dark
Out of my way, unless he bid them; but
For every trifle are they set upon me:
Sometime like apes, that moe1 and chatter at me,
And after, bite me; then like hedge-hogs, which

To moe is to make mouths. "To make a moe like an ape. Distorquere os. Rictum deducere."-Baret.

2

Lie tumbling in my bare-foot way, and mount
Their pricks at my foot-fall; sometime am I
All wound with adders, who, with cloven tongues,
Do hiss me into madness:-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.

Trin. 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 bumbard3 that would shed his liquor. If it should thunder, as it did before, I know not where to hide my head: yond' same cloud cannot choose but fall by pailfuls.

-What have we here? a man or a fish? Dead or alive? A fish: he smells like a fish; a very ancient and fish-like smell; a kind of, not of the newest, Poor-John. A strange fish! Were I in England now, (as once I was,) and had but this fish painted, not a holiday-fool there but would give a piece of silver: there would this monster make a man*; any strange beast there makes a man: when they will not give a doit to relieve a lame beggar, they will lay out ten to see a dead Indian. Legg'd like a man! and his fins like arms! Warm, o' my troth! I do now let loose my opinion, hold it no longer; this is no fish but an islander, that hath lately suf

2 Pricks is the ancient word for prickles.

3 A bumbard is a black jack of leather, to hold beer, &c. 4 i. e. make a man's fortune. Thus in A Midsummer Night's Dream

"We are all made men."

And in the old comedy of Ram Alley

"She's a wench

Was born to make us all."

fered by a thunderbolt. [Thunder.] Alas! the storm is come again: my best way is to creep under his gaberdine; there is no other shelter hereabout: Misery acquaints a man with strange bed-fellows. I will here shroud, till the dregs of the storm be past.

Enter STEPHANO, singing; a Bottle in his hand. Ste. 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. The master, the swabber, the boatswain, and I, The gunner, and his mate,

Lov'd Mall, Megg, 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.

Cal. Do not torment me: O!

[Drinks.

Ste. What's the matter? Have we devils here?

"A

5 A gaberdine was a coarse outer garment. "A shepherd's pelt, frock, or gaberdine, such a coarse long jacket as our porters wear over the rest of their garments," says Cotgrave. kind of rough cassock or frock like an Irish mantle," says Philips. It is from the low Latin Galvardina, whence the French Galvardin and Gaban. One would almost think Shakspeare had been acquainted with the following passage in Chapman's version of the fourth Book of the Odyssey:

The sea calves savour was

So passing sowre (they still being bred at seas)
It much afflicted us, for who can please

To lie by one of these same sea-bred whales."