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FER

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CALIBAN, a savage and deformed Slave. TRINCULO, a Jester.

STEPHANO, a drunken Butler.
Master of a Ship, Boatswain, and Mariners.
MIRANDA, Daughter to Prospero.
ARIEL, an airy Spirit.

IRIS,
CERES,

JUNO,

Nymphs,

Reapers,

Spirits.

Other Spirits attending on Prospero.

SCENE.-The Sea with a Ship; afterwards an uninhabited Island.

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Where's

Enter ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, FERDINAND, GONZALO, and Others." Alon. Good Boatswain, have care. the Master? Play the men. Boats. I pray now, keep below. Ant. Where is the Master, Boson? 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. [aboard. Gon. Good, yet remember whom thou hast 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 liv'd so long, and make yourself ready in your cabin for the mischance of the hour, if it so hap. -Cheerly, good hearts!-Out of our way, I say! [Exit.

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 be not born to be hang'd, our case is miserable. [Exeunt.

Enter Boatswain.

Boats. Down with the top-mast: yare; lower, lower. Bring her to try wi' th' main-course. [A cry within.] A plague upon this howling! they are louder than the weather, or our office.

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Ant. We are merely cheated of our lives by drunkards.

This wide-chapp'd rascal,—would thou might'st
lie drowning,
The washing of ten tides!
Gon.
He'll be hang'd 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 split!-Farewell, my wife and children!-Farewell, brother!-We split, we split, we split!

Ant. Let's all sink wi' th' King.

Exit. [Exit.

Seb. Let's take leave of him. Gon. Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea for an acre of barren ground; long heath, brown furze, any thing. The wills above be done! but I would fain die a dry death. [Exit.

SCENE II.

The Island: before the cell of Prospero.
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 th' welkin's cheek, Dashes the fire out. O! I have suffered

B

With those that I saw suffer: a brave vessel,
Who had, no doubt, some noble creature 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 swallowed, and
The fraughting souls within her.
Be collected:
No more amazement. Tell your piteous heart,
There's no harm done.

Pro.

Mira.
Pro.

O, woe the day!

No harm.

I have done nothing but in care of thee,
(Of thee, my dear one! thee, my daughter!) who
Art ignorant of what thou art, naught knowing
Of whence I am; nor that I am more better
Than Prospero, master of a full poor cell,
And thy no greater father.
Mira.

More to know
Did never meddle with my thoughts.
Pro.
'Tis time
I should inform thee farther. 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 wrack, 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

To think o' th' teen that I have turn'd you to,
Which is from my remembrance. Please you,
farther.
[nio,-

Pro. My brother, and thy uncle, called Anto-
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?
Mira.
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 ['em,
The creatures that were mine, I say, or chang'd
Or else new form'd 'em: having both the key.
Of officer and office, set all hearts i' th' State
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
Mira. O good sir: I do.
Pro.

I pray thee, mark me.
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'er-priz'd all popular rate, in my false brother
Awak'd an eyil nature; and my trust,

Which thou heard'st cry, which thou saw'st sink. Like a good parent, did beget of him

Sit down;

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Mira.
Pro. By what? by any other house, or person?
Of any thing the image tell me, that
Hath kept with thy remembrance.
Mira.
'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 it,

[since,

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.
Mira.
But that I do not.
Pro. Twelve years since, Miranda, twelve years
Thy father was the Duke of Milan, and
A Prince of power.
Mira.
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
And Princess, no worse issued.

Mira.
O, the heavens!
What foul play had we, that we came from thence?
Or blessed was't, we did?
Pro.

Both, both, my girl:
By foul play, as thou say'st, were we heav'd thence;
But blessedly holp hither.
Mira.

O! my heart bleeds

A falsehood, in its contrary as great

As my trust was; which had, indeed, no limit,
A confidence sans bound. He, being thus lorded,
Not only with what my revenue yielded,
But what my power might else exact,-like one,
Who having, unto truth, by telling of it,
Made such a sinner of his memory,

To credit his own lie-he did believe

He was indeed the Duke; out o' th' substitution,
And executing th' outward face of royalty,
With all prerogative:-hence his ambition
Growing,-Dost thou hear?

Mira. Your tale, sir, would cure deafness.
Pro. To have no screen between this part he
play'd,

And him he play'd it for, he needs will be
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) wi' th' 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.
Mira.
O the heavens!
[tell me,
Pro. Mark his condition, and th' event; then
If this might be a brother.
Mira.
I should sin
To think but nobly of my grandmother.
Pro.
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' th' 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 th' purpose, did Antonio open
The gates of Milan; and, i' th' dead of darkness
The ministers for th' purpose hurried thenee
Me, and thy crying self.

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That hour destroy us? Pro.

Wherefore did they not

Well demanded, wench:

My tale provokes that question. Dear, they durst not;

(So dear the love my people bore me,) nor set
À 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 prepared
A rotten carcass of a boat, not rigg'd,
-Nor tackle, sail, nor mast; the very rats
Instinctively have quit it. There they hoist us,
To cry to th' sea that roar'd to us, to sigh
To th' winds, whose pity, sighing back again,
Did us but loving wrong.

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Pro.

Would I might

Now I arise :[Puts on his robe. Sit still, and hear the last of our sea-sorrow. Here in this island we arriv'd; and here Have I, thy schoolmaster, made thee more profit Than other princes can, that have more time For vainer hours, and tutors not so careful. Mira. Heavens thank you for 't! And now, I pray you, sir,

(For still 'tis beating in my mind,) your reason For raising this sea-storm?

Pro. 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. [MIRANDA Sleeps. Come away, servant, come! I am ready now: Approach, my Ariel: come!

Enter ARIEL.

Ariel. All hail, great master; grave sir, hail. What is 't thou canst demand?

I come

To answer thy best pleasure; be 't to fly,
To swim, to dive into the fire, to ride
On the curl'd clouds: to thy strong bidding task
Ariel, and all his quality.
Hast thou, spirit,

Pro.
Perform'd to point the tempest that I bade thee?
Ari. To every article.

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 topmast,
The yards and bowsprit, would I flame distinctly,
Then meet and join. Jove's lightnings, the

precursors

O' th' dreadful thunder-claps, more momentary And sight-outrunning were not: the fire, and cracks

Of sulphurous roaring the most mighty Neptune Seem to besiege, and make his bold waves tremble,

Yea, his dread trident shake.
Pro.

Who was so firm, so constant,
Would not infect his reason?
Ari.

My brave spirit!
that this coil

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-staring (then like reeds, not hair)
Was the first man that leap'd.
Pro.

Why, that's my spirit!

But was not this nigh shore?
Ari.

Close by, my master.

Pro. But are they, Ariel, safe?
Ari.

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.

Pro.
Of the King's ship
The mariners, say, how thou hast dispos'd,
And all the rest o' th' fleet?

Ari.

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 stow'd;
Who, with a charm join'd to their suffer'd labour,
I have left asleep and for the rest o' th' 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 wrack'd,
And his great person perish.

Pro. Ariel, thy charge Exactly is perform'd; but there's more work. What is the time o' th' day? Ari. Past the mid season. Pro. At least two glasses. The time 'twixt six and now

Must by us both be spent most preciously.
Ari. Is there more toil? Since thou dost give
me pains,

Let me remember thee what thou hast promis'd,
Which is not yet perform'd me.
Pro.

How now! moody?

Ari.

My liberty.

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