Abbildungen der Seite

Of roaring, shrieking, howling, jingling chains,
And more diversity of sounds, all horrible,
We were awak'd; straightway, at liberty:
Where we, in all her trim, freshly beheld
Our royal, good, and gallant ship; our master
Capering to eye her: on a trice, so please you,
Even in a dream, were we divided from them,
And were brought moping hither.


Pro. Bravely, my diligence!

Was 't well done?

Thou shalt be free.) Alon. This is as strange a maze as e'er men trod;

And there is in this business more than nature

Was ever conduct of: some oracle

Must rectify our knowledge.


Sir, my liege,

Do not infest your mind with beating on

The strangeness of this business: at pick'd leisure,
Which shall be shortly, single I'll resolve you
(Which to you shall seem probable) of every
These happen'd accidents; till when, be cheerful,
And think of each thing well.

Come hither, spirit:
Set Caliban and his companions free;


Untie the spell. [Exit ARIEL.] How fares my gracious Sir?

There are yet missing of your company

Some few odd lads, that you remember not.


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

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


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

Cal. O Setebos! these be brave spirits, indeed.

How fine my master is! I am afraid

He will chastise me.

[blocks in formation]

What things are these, my lord Antonio?

Will money buy them?


Very like: one of them

Is a plain fish, and, no doubt, marketable.

Pro. Mark but the badges of these men, my lords, Then say, if they be true. This mis-shapen knave,

His mother was a witch; and one so strong

That could control the moon, make flows and ebbs,
And deal in her command, without her power.
These three have robb'd me; and this demi-devil
(For he 's a bastard one) had plotted with them
To take my life: two of these fellows you
Must know, and own; this thing of darkness I
Acknowledge mine.


I shall be pinch'd to death.

Alon. Is not this Stephano, my drunken butler?

Seb. He is drunk now: where had he wine?

Alon. And Trinculo is reeling ripe: where should they Find this grand liquor that hath gilded 'em? —

How cam'st thou in this pickle?

Trin. 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. Seb. Why, how now, Stephano!

Ste. O touch me not: I am not Stephano, but a cramp.
Pro. You'd be king of the isle, sirrah?

Ste. I should have been a sore one then.

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

[Pointing to CAliban. Pro. 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.

Cal. 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?


Go to; away!



Hence, and bestow your luggage where you found it. Or stole it, rather. [Exeunt CAL., STE., and TRIN. 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 solemniz'd;
And thence retire me to my Milan, where
Every third thought shall be my grave.

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

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


[blocks in formation]

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

« ZurückWeiter »