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Alonso, King of Naples.
Sebastian, his Brother.
Ferdinand, Son to the King of Naples.
Gonzalo, an honest old Counsellor of Naples.
Caliban, a savage and deformed Slave.
Trinculo, a Jester.
Prospero, the rightful Duke of Milan.
Antonio, his Brother, the usurping Duke of Miranda, Daughter to Prospero.
SCENE, The Sea, with a Ship; afterwards an uninhabited Island.
Stephano, a drunken Butler.
Master of a Ship, Boatswain, and Mariners.
Alon. Good boatswain, have care. Where's the master? Play the men.
Boats. I pray now, keep below. Aut. Where is the master, Boatswain? Boats. Do you not hear him? You mar our labour; Keep your cabins: you do assist the storm. Gon. Nay, good, be patient. Boats. When the sea is. Hence! What care these roarers for the name of king? To cabin: silence: trouble us not,
Ariel, an airy Spirit.
Other Spirits attending on Prospero.
Seb. I am out of patience.
Ant. We are merely cheated of our lives by drunkards.
Gon. Good; yet remember whom thou hast aboard. Boats. None that I more love than myself. You are a counsellor; if you can command these elements to silence, and work the peace of the present, we will not hand a rope more; use your authority. If you cannot, give thanks you have lived so long, and make yourself ready in your cabin for the mischance of the hour, if it so hap.-Cheerly, good hearts. our way, I say.
He'll be hanged yet; Though every drop of water swear against it, And gape at wid'st to glut him. [A confused noise within.]-Mercy on us! We split, we my and children! well, brother! We split, we split, we split!Ant. Let's all sink with the king. [Erit. Seb. Let's take leave of him. Exit. Gon. Now would I give a thousand furlongs of
Gon. I have great comfort from this fellow methinks he hath no drowning mark upon him; his. complexion is perfect gallows. Stand fast, good fate, to his hanging! make the rope of his destiny our cable, for our own doth little advantage! If he sea for an acre of barren ground; long heath, be not born to be hanged, our case is miserable. brown furze, any thing: The wills above be done! [Exeunt. but I would fain die a dry death.
This wide-chapp'd rascal ;-'Would, thou might'st
The washing of ten tides!
SCENE II. The Island: before the Cell of Prospero. I
Enter Prospero and Miranda.
Mira. If by your art, my dearest father, you have
Put the wild waters in this roar, allay them:
The sky, it seems, would pour down stinking pitch,
But that the sea, mounting to the welkin's cheek,
Dashes the fire out. O, I have suffer'd
With those that I saw suffer! a brave vessel,
Who had no doubt some noble creatures in her,
Dash'd all to pieces. O, the cry did knock
Against my very heart! Poor souls! they perish'd.
Had I been any god of power, I would
Have sunk the sea within the earth, or e'er
It should the good ship so have swallow'd, and
The freighting souls within her.
No more amazement: tell your piteous heart,
There's no harm done.
O, woe the day!
I have done nothing but in care of thee,
(Of thee, my dear one! thee, my daughter!) who
Art ignorant of what thou art, nought knowing
Of whence I am; nor that I am more better
Than Prospero, master of a full poor cell,
And thy no greater father.
More to know Did never meddle with my thoughts. Pro. 'Tis time I should inform thee further. Lend thy hand, And pluck my magic garment from me.-So; [Lays down his Mantle. Lie there, my art.-Wipe thou thine eyes; have comfort.
The direful spectacle of the wreck, which touch'd
The very virtue of compassion in thee,
I have with such provision in mine art
So safely order'd, that there is no soul-
No, not so much perdition as an hair,
Betid to any creature in the vessel
The hour's now come;
The very minute bids thee ope thine ear;
Obey, and be attentive. Canst thou remember
A time before we came unto this cell?
I do not think thou canst; for then thou wast not
Out three years old.
Certainly, sir, I can.
Pro. By what? by any other house, or person?
Of any thing the image tell me, that
Hath kept with thy remembrance.
'Tis far off;
And rather like a dream than an assurance
That my remembrance warrants: had I not
Four or five women once, that tended me?
Pro. Thou hadst, and more, Miranda: but how is
That this lives in thy mind? What seest thou else
In the dark backward and abysm of time?
If thou remember'st aught, ere thou cam'st here,
How thou cam'st here, thou may'st.
O, my heart bleeds
To think o'the teen that I have turn'd you to,
Which is from my remembrance! Please you fur-
But that I do not.
Pro. Twelve years since, Miranda, twelve years
Thy father was the duke of Milan, and
A prince of power..
Sir, are not you my father!
Pro. Thy mother was a piece of virtue, and
She said thou wast my daughter; and thy father
Was duke of Milan; and his only heir.
A princess;-no worse issued.
O, the heavens!
What foul play had we, that we came from thence?
Or blessed was't we did?
As my trust was; which had, indeed, no limit,
A confidence sans bound. He being thus lordel,
Not only with what my revenue yielded,
But what my power might else exact,-like one,
Which thou heard'st cry, which thou saw'st sink. Who having, unto truth, by telling of it, 13
Made such a sinner of his memory,
For thou must now know further.
You have often
Begun to tell me what I am; but stopp'd
And left me to a bootless inquisition;
Concluding, Stay, not yet.-
Both, both, my girl:
By foul play, as thou say'st, were we heav'd thence,
But blessedly holp hither.
Pro. My brother, and thy uncle, call'd Antonio,-
I pray thee, mark me, that a brother should
Be so perfidious!-he whom, next thyself,
Of all the world I lov'd, and to him put
The manage of my state; as, at that time,
Through all the signiories it was the first,
And Prospero the prime duke; being so reputed
In dignity, and, for the liberal arts,
Without a parallel; those being all my study,
The government I cast upon my brother,
And to my state grew stranger, being transported,
And rapt in secret studies. Thy false uncle-
Dost thou attend me?
Sir, most heedfully.
Pro. Being once perfected how to grant suits,
How to deny them; whom to advance, and whom
To trash for over-topping; new created
The creatures that were mine; I say, or chang'd
Or else new form'd them: having both the key
Of officer and office, set all hearts
To what tune pleas'd his ear; that now he was
The ivy which had hid my princely trunk, [not:
And suck'd my verdure out on't. Thou attend'st
I pray thee, mark me.
O good sir, I do.
Pro. I thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicate
To closeness and the bettering of my mind
With that, which, but by being so retir'd,
O'erpriz'd all popular rate, in my false brother,
Awak'd an evil nature: and my trust,
Like a good parent, did beget of him
A falsehood, in its contrary as great
To credit his own lie,-he did believe
He was the duke; out of the substitution,
And executing the outward face of royalty,
With all prerogative :-Hence his ambition
Growing, Dost hear?
Your tale, sir, would cure deafness.
Pro. To have no screen between this part he
And him he play'd it for, he needs will he play'd,
Absolute Milan: me, poor man! my library
Was dukedom large enough; of temporal royalties
He thinks me now incapable: confederates
(So dry he was for sway) with the king of Naples,
To give him annual tribute, do him homage;
Subject his coronet to his crown, and bend
The dukedom, yet unbow'd, (alas, poor Milan!)
To most ignoble stooping.
O the heavens!
Pro. Mark his condition, and the event; then
If this might be a brother.
I should sin
To think but nobly of my grandmother:
Good wombs have borne bad sons.
Now the condition
This king of Naples, being an enemy
To me inveterate, hearkens my brother's suit;
Which was, that he in lieu o'the premises,
Of homage, and I know not how much tribute,-
Should presently extirpate me and mine
Out of the dukedom; and confer fair Milan,
With all the honours, on my brother: whereon
A treacherous army levied, one midnight
Fated to the purpose, did Antonio open
The gates of Milan; and i'the dead of darkness,
The ministers for the purpose hurried thence
Me, and thy crying self.
Alack, for pity!
I, not rememb'ring how I cried out then,
Will cry it o'er again; it is a hint,
That wrings mine eyes.
Hear a little further,
And then I'll bring thee to the present business
Which now's upon us; without the which, this
Were most impertinent.
Wherefore did they not
That hour destroy us?
Well demanded, wench; My tale provokes that question. Dear, they durst not;
(So dear the love my people bore me) nor set
A mark so bloody on the business; but
With colours fairer painted their foul ends.
In few, they hurried us aboard a bark;
Bore us some leagues to sea; where they prepar'd
A rotten carcass of a boat, not rigg'd,
Nor tackle, sail, nor mast; the very rats
Instinctively had quit it: there they hoist us,
To cry to the sea that roar'd to us; to sigh
To the winds, whose pity, sighing back again,
Did us but loving wrong.
Alack! what trouble
Was I then to you!
Know thus far forth.
By accident most strange, bountiful fortune,
Now my dear lady, hath mine enemies
Brought to this shore: and by my prescience
I find my zenith doth depend upon
A most auspicious star; whose influence
If now I court not, but omit, my fortunes
Will ever after droop.-Here cease more questions;
Thou art inclin'd to sleep; 'tis a good dulness,
And give it way;-I know thou canst not choose.
Come away, servant, come: I'm ready now;
Approach, my Ariel; come.
O'the dreadful thunder-claps, more momentary
And sight outrunning were not: the fire, and cracks
Of sulphurous roaring, the most mighty Neptune
Seem'd to besiege, and make his bold waves tremble;
Yea, his dread trident shake.
I boarded the king's ship; now on the beak,
Now in the waist, the deck, in every cabin,
I flam'd amazement: sometimes, I'd divide,
And burn in many places; on the top-mast,
The yards, and bowsprit, would I flame distinctly;
Then meet, and join: Jove's lightnings, the pre-
My brave spirit!
Who was so firm, so constant, that this coil
Would not infect his reason?
O! a cherubim
Thou wast, that did preserve me! Thou didst smile,
Infused with a fortitude from heaven,
When I have deck'd the sea with drops full salt;
Under my burden groan'd; which rais'd in me
An undergoing stomach, to bear up
Against what should ensue.
How came we ashore?
Pro. By Providence divine.
Some food we had, and some fresh water, that
A noble Neapolitan, Gonzalo,
Out of his charity (who being then appointed
Master of this design) did give us; with
Rich garments, linens, stuffs, and necessaries,
Which since have steaded much; so, of his gentle,
Knowing I lov'd my books, he furnish'd me, [ness,
From my own library, with volumes that
I prize above my dukedom.
Would I might
But ever see that man!
Now I arise:-
Sit still, and hear the last of our sea-sorrow.
Here in this island we arriv'd; and here
Have I, thy school-master, made thee more profit
Than other princes can, that have more time
For vainer hours, and tutors not so careful.
Past the mid season.
Pro. At least two glasses: the time 'twixt six and
Mira. Heavens thank you for't! And now, I Must by us both be spent most preciously. [now,
pray you, sir,
Ari. Is there more toil? Since thou dost give me
Let me remember thee what thou hast promis'd,
Which is not yet perform'd me.
(For still 'tis beating in my mind), your reason
For raising this sea-storm?
How now ? moody?
What is't thou canst demand?
Pro. Before the time be out? no more.
I pray thee
Remember, I have done thee worthy service;
Told thee no lies, made no mistakings, serv'd
Without or grudge, or grumblings: thou didst
To bate me a full year.
Dost thou forget
From what a torment I did free thee?
Pro. Thou dost; and think'st
It much to tread the ooze of the salt deep;
Ari. All hail, great master! grave sir, hail! I come To run upon the sharp wind of the north;
To answer thy best pleasure; be't to fly,
To do me business in the veins o'the earth,
To swim, to dive into the fire, to ride
When it is bak'd with frost.
On the curl'd clouds; to thy strong bidding, task
Ariel, and all his quality.
I do not, sir.
Pro. Thou liest, malignant thing! Hast thou
Hast thou, spirit,
Perform'd to point the tempest that I bade thee?
Ari. To every article.
The foul witch Sycorax, who, with age and envy,
Was grown into a hoop? hast thou forgot her?
Ari. No, sir.
Pro. Thou hast: where was she born? speak;
Ari. Sir, in Argier.
Not a soul
But felt a fever of the mad, and play'd
Some tricks of desperation: all, but mariners,
Plung'd in the foaming brine, and quit the vessel,
Then all a-fire with me: the king's son, Ferdinand,
With hair up starting (then like reeds, not hair,)
Was the first man that leap'd; cried, Hell is empty,
And all the devils are here.
Why, that's my spirit!
But was not this nigh shore?
Close by, my master.
Pro. But are they, Ariel, safe?
Not a hair perish'd;
On their sustaining garments not a blemish,
But fresher than before: and, as thou bad'st me,
In troops I have dispers'd them 'bout the isle:
The king's son have I landed by himself;
Whom I left cooling of the air with sighs,
In an odd angle of the isle, and sitting,
His arms in this sad knot.
Of the king's ship,
The mariners, say, how thou hast dispos'd,
And all the rest o'the fleet?
Safely in harbour
Is the king's ship; in the deep nook, where once
Thou call'dst me up at midnight to fetch dew
From the still-vex'd Bermoothes, there she's hid
The mariners all under hatches stowed;
Whom, with a charm join'd to their suffer'd labour,
I have left asleep and for the rest o'the fleet,
Which I dispers'd, they all have met again;
And are upon the Mediterranean flote,
Bound sadly home for Naples;
Supposing that they saw the king's ship wreck'd,
And his great person perish.
Ariel, thy charge
Exactly is perform'd; but there's more work:
What is the time o'the day?
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?
Ari. Ay, sir.
Pro. This blue-ey'd 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
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.
Pro. 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 arriv'd, and heard thee, that made gape. The pine, and let thee out. Ari.
I thank thee, master. Pro. 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. Ari.
I will be correspondent to command, And do my sprighting gently.
Do so; and after two days
I will discharge thee.
That's my noble master!
What shall I do? say what? what shall I do?
Pro. Go make thyself like a nymph of the sea;
Be subject to no sight but thine and mine; invisible
To every eye-ball else. Go, take this shape,
And hither come in't go hence, with diligence.
Awake, dear heart, awake! thou hast slept well;
Mira. The strangeness of your story put
Heaviness in me.
Pro. Shake it off: come on;
We'll visit Caliban, my slave, who never
Yields us kind answer.
I do not love to look on.
All exercise on thee: thou shalt be pinch'd
As thick as honey-combs, each pinch more stinging
Than bees that made them.
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; wouldst
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 lov'd thee,
And shew'd thee all the qualities o'the isle,
The fresh springs, brine pits, barren place, and fer-
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, [me
Which first was mine own king: and here you sty
In this hard rock, whiles you do keep from me
The rest of the island.
Thou most lying slave,
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 didst seek to violate
The honour of my child.
Cal. O ho, O ho!'would it had been done! Thou didst prevent me; I had peopled else This isle with Calibans.
Pro. 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 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, [natures Though thou didst learn, had that in't which good Could not abide to be with; therefore wast thou Deservedly confin'd into this rock, Who hadst 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; Fill all thy bones with aches; make thee roar, That beasts shall tremble at thy din.
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.
Or it hath drawn me rather:-But 'tis gone.
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.
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 curtains of thine eye advance,
And say, what thou seest yond'.
What is't? a spirit? Lord, how it looks about! Believe me, sir, It carries a brave form:-But 'tis a spirit. [senses Pro. No, wench; it eats and sleeps, and hath such 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 might'st
A goodly person: he hath lost his fellows,
And strays about to find them.
I might call him
A thing divine; for nothing natural
I ever saw so noble.
It goes on, [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 made, or no?
My language! heavens! I am the best of them that speak this speech, Were I but where 'tis spoken.
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.
Alack, for mercy!
Fer. Yes, faith, and all his lords; the duke of
And his brave son, being twain,
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.
Soft, sir: one word more. They are both in either's powers: but this swift
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 préservation, few in millions Can speak like us: then wisely, good sir, weigh Our sorrow with our comfort.
Seb. He receives comfort like cold porridge. Ant. The visitor will not give him o'er so. Seb. Look, he's winding up the watch of his wit; By and by it will strike.