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Pro. It works:-Come on.-| Than he appears by speech; this is unwonted, Thou hast done well, fine Ariel!-Follow me.- Which now came from him. [To FERD. and MIR. Hark, what thou else shalt do me. [To ARIEL. Mira. Be of comfort; My father's of a better nature, sir,

Pro. Thou shalt be as free As mountain winds: but then exactly do All points of my command. To the syllable.

Ari.

Pro. Come, follow: speak not for him. [Exeunt

АСТ II.

SCENE I-Another part of the Island. Enter ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, GONZALO, ADRIAN, FRANCISCO, and others.

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 preservation, few in millions Can speak like us: then wisely, good sir, weigh Our sorrow with our comfort.

Alon.

Pr'ythee, peace!

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.

Gon. Sir,

Seb. One-Tell.

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Ant. So you've pay'd.

Ant. The ground, indeed, is tawny.

Seb. With an eye of green in't.

Ant. He misses not much.

Seb. No: he doth but mistake the truth totally. Gon. But the rarity of it. is (which is indeed almost beyond credit)

Seb. As many vouch'd rarities are.

Gon. That our garments, being, as they were, drenched in the sea, hold, notwithstanding, their freshness, and glosses; being rather new dy'd, than stain'd with salt water.

Ant. If but one of his pockets could speak, would it not say, he lies?

Seb. Ay, or very falsely pocket up his report.

Gon. Methinks, our garments are now as fresh as when we put them on first in Afric, at the marriage of the king's fair daughter Claribel to the king of Tunis.

Seb. "Twas a sweet marriage, and we prosper well in our return.

Adr. Tunis was never graced before with such a paragon to their queen.

Gon. Not since widow Dido's time.

Ant. Widow a pox o' that! how came that widow in? Widow Dido!

Seb. What if he had said, widower Eneas too! good lord, how you take it!

Adr. Widow Dido, said you? you make me study of that: she was of Carthage, not of Tunis. Gon. This Tunis, sir, was Carthage.

Adr. Carthage?

Gon. I assure you, Carthage.

Ant. His word is more than the miraculous harp. Seb. He hath raised the walls, and houses too. Ant. What impossible matter will he make easy next?

Seb. I think he will carry this island home in his pocket, and give it his son for an apple.

Ant. And, sewing the kernels of it in the sea, bring forth more islands.

Gon. Ay?

Ant. Why, in good time.

Gon. Sir, we were talking, that our garments

Adr. Uninhabitable, and almost inaccessible, seem now as fresh, as when we were at Tunis at

Seb. Yet.

Adr. Yet

Ant. He could not miss it.

Adr. It must needs be of subtle, tender, and delicate temperance.*

Ant. Temperance, was a delicate wench. Seb. Ay, and a subtle; as he most learnedly delivered.

Adr. The air breathes upon us here most sweetly.
Seb. As if it had lungs, and rotten ones.
Ant. Or, as 'twere perfumed by a fen.
Gon. Here is every thing advantageous to life.
Ant. True; save means to live..
Seb. Of that there's none, or little. [green!
Gon. How lush' and lusty the grass looks! how
•Temperature

Rank.

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Seb. Sir, you may thank yourself for this great loss;

That would not bless our Europe with your daughter,

But rather lose her to an African;
Where she, at least, is banish'd from your eye,
Who hath cause to wet the grief on't.
Alon.

Pr'ythee, peace. Seb. You were kneel'd to, and importun'd otherwise

By all of us; and the fair soul herself
Weigh'd, between lothness and obedience, at
Which end o' the beam she'd bow. We have lost
your son,

I fear, forever: Milan and Naples have

More widows in them of this business' making, Than we bring men to comfort them: The fault's Your own.

Alon. So is the dearest of the loss. Gon. My lord Sebastian, The truth you speak doth lack some gentleness, And time to speak it in: you rub the sore, When you should bring the plaster. Seb.

Very well.

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Ant. Long live Gonzalo!
Gon.

And, do you mark me, sir?

[to me.

Alon. Pry'thee, no more: thou dost talk nothing Gon. I do well believe your highness; and did it to minister occasion to these gentlemen, who are of such sensible and nimble lungs, that they always use to laugh at nothing.

Ant. 'Twas you we laugh'd at.

Gon. Who, in this kind of merry fooling, am nothing to you; so you may continue, and laugh at nothing still.

Ant. What a blow was there given!
Seb. An it had not fallen flat-long.

Gon. You are gentlemen of brave metal: you would lift the moon out of her sphere, if she would continue in it five weeks without changing.

Enter ARIEL invisible, playing solemn music.

Seb. We would so, and then go a bat-fowling. Ant. Nay, good my lord, be not angry. Gon. No, I warrant you; I will not adventure my discretion so weakly. Will you laugh me asleep, for I am very heavy?

Ant. Go sleep and hear us.

[All sleep but ALON. SER. and ANT. Alon. What, all so soon asleep! I wish mine eyes Would, with themselves, shut up my thoughts: I

find

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Gon. All things in common nature should pro- It is a sleepy language; and thou speak'st

duce,

Without sweat or endeavor: treason, felony,
Sword, pike, knife, gun, or need of any engine,
Would I not have; but nature should bring forth,
Of its own kind, all foison', all abundance,
To feed my innocent people.

• Plenty.

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O, out of that no hope,

Seb. I remember, You did supplant your brother Prospero. Ant. True: 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; 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, as a cat laps milk;
They'll tell the clock to any business that
We say befits the hour.
Seb.

Thy case, dear friend,
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.
Ant.

Draw together: And when I rear my hand, do you the like,

Seb.

What great hope have you! no hope, that way, is To fall it on Gonzalo:
Another way so high an hope, that even
Ambition cannot pierce a wink beyond,

But doubts discovery there. Will you grant, with

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O, but one word! [They converse apart.

Music. Re-enter ARIEL, invisible.

Ari. My master through his art forsees the dange
That these, his friends, are in; and sends me forth,
Then, tell me, (For else his project dies,) to keep them living.
[Sings in GONZALO's ear.

Claribel.

Seb. Ant. She that is queen of Tunis; she that dwells Ten leagues beyond man's life; she that from

Naples

Can have no note, unless the sun were post, (The man i' the moon's too slow) till new-born chins Be rough and razorable: she, from whom

We were all sea-swallow'd, though some cast again; And, by that, destin'd to perform an act, Whereof what's past is prologue; what to come, In yours and my discharge.

Seb. What stuff is this?-How say you? Tis true, my brother's daughter's queen of Tunis; So is she heir of Naples; 'twixt which regions There is some space.

Ant. A space whose every cubit Seems to cry out, How shall that Claribel Measure us back to Naples ?-Keep in Tunis, And let Sebastian wake!-Say, this were death That now hath seiz'd them; why, they were no

worse

Than now they are: there be, that can rule Naples
As well as he that sleeps; lords, that can prate
As amply, and unnecessarily,

As this Gonzalo; I myself could make
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.
Ant.
And how does your content
Tender your own good fortune?
• A bird of the jackdaw kind.

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.

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 honor, sir, I heard a humming, And that a strange one too, which did awake me: I shak'd you, sir, and cry'd: 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 mv poor son.

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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 moe and chatter at me,
And after, bite me; then like hedge-hogs, which
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 bombard 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 fishlike 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 holidayfool 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 suffered by a thunderbolt. [Thunder.] Alas! the storm is coming again: my best way is to creep under his gaberdine"; there is no other shelter hereabout: Misery acquaints a man with strange bedfellows. I will here shroud, till the dregs of the storm be past.

For she had a tongue with a tang,
Would cry to a sailor, Go hang:

She loved not the savor of tar or of pitch,
Yet a tailor might scratch her where'er she did itch.
Then to sea, boys, and let her go hang

This is a scurvy tune too: but here's my comfort.
[Drinks.

Cal. Do not torment me: O!

Ste. What's the matter? Have we devils here? Do you put tricks upon us with savages, and men of Inde? Ha! I have not scap'd drowning, to be afeard now of your four legs; for it hath been said, As proper a man as ever went on four legs, cannot make him give ground: and it shall be said so again, while Stephano breathes at nostrils.

Cal. The spirit torments me: 0!

Ste. This is some monster of the isle with four

legs; who hath got, as I take it, an ague: Where the devil should he learn our language? I will give him some relief, if it be but for that: If I can re cover him, and keep him tame, and get to Naple with him, he's a present for any emperor that ever

trod on neat's leather.

Cal. Do not torment me, pr'ythee; I'll bring my wood home faster.

Ste. He's in his fit now; and does not talk after the wisest. He shall taste of my bottle: if he have never drunk wine afore, it will go near to remove his fit: If I can recover him, and keep him tame, I will not take too much for him: he shall pay for him that hath him, and that soundly.

Cal. Thou dost me yet but little hurt; thou wilt Anon, I know it by thy trembling: Now Prosper works upon thee.

Ste. Come on your ways; open your mouth; here is that which will give language to you, cat; open your mouth: this will shake your shaking, I can tell you, and that soundly: you cannot tell who's your friend: open your chaps again.

Trin. I should know that voice: It should be--But he is drowned; and these are devils: O! defend me!

Ste. Four legs, and two voices; a mest delicate monster! His forward voice now is to speak well of his friend; his backward voice is to utter foul speeches, and to detract. If all the wine in my bottle will recover him, I will help his ague: Come, Amen! I will pour some in thy other mouth. Trin. Stephano!—

Mercy!

Ste. Doth thy other mouth call me mercy! This is a devil, and no monster! I will leave him; I have no long spoon.

Trin. Stephano!--if thou beest Stephano, touch me, and speak to me; for I am Trinculo;--be not afcard, thy good friend Trinculo.

Ste. If thou beest Trinculo, come forth; I'll pull thee by the lesser legs: if any be Trinculo's legs, Enter STEPHANO, singing; a botile in his hand. these are they. Thou art very Trinculo, indeed.

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How cam'st thou to be the siege of this moon-call"? Can he vent Trinculos?

Trin. I took him to be killed with a thunder.

stroke:-But art thou not drowned, Stephano? I hope now thou art not drowned. Is the storm over. blown? I hid me under the dead moon-calf's gaberdine, for fear of the storm: And art thou living, Stephano? O Stephano, two Neapolitans 'scaped! Ste. Pr'ythee, de not turn me about; my stomach is not constant.

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Cal. These be fine things, an if they be not
sprites.

That's a brave god, and bears celestial liquor:
I will kneel to him.

Ste. How didst thou 'scape? How cam'st thou hither? swear by this bottle, how thou cam'st hither. I escaped upon a butt of sack, which the sailors heaved overboard, by this bottle! which I made of the bark of a tree, with mine own hands, since I was cast ashore.

Cal. I'll swear, upon that bottle, to be thy True subject; for the liquor is not earthly.

Ste. Here; swear then how thou escap❜dst. Trin. Swam a-shore, man, like a duck; I can swim like a duck, I'll be sworn.

Ste. Here, kiss the book: Though thou canst swim like a duck, thou art made like a goose.

Trin. O Stephano, hast any more of this? Ste. The whole butt, man; my cellar is in a rock by the sea-side, where my wine is hid. How now, moon-calf? how does thine ague?

Cal. Hast thou not dropped from heaven? Ste. Out o' the moon, I do assure thee; I was the man in the moon, when time was.

Cal. I have seen thee in her, and I do adore thee; My mistress showed me thee, thy dog and bush.

Ste. Come, swear to that; kiss the book: I will furnish it anon with new contents: swear.

Trin. By this good light, this is a very shallow monster:-I afeard of him?—a very weak monster: -The man i' the moon?-a most poor credulous monster:-Well drawn, monster, in good sooth.

Cal. I'll show thee every fertile inch o' the island: And kiss thy foot: I pr'ythee, be my god.

Trin. By this light, a most perfidious and drunken monster; when his god's asleep, he'll rob his bottle. Cal. I'll kiss thy foot: I'll swear myself thy subject.

Ste. Come on, then; down and swear.

SCENE I-Before Prospero's Cell.

Enter FERDINAND, bearing a log.

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I'll fish for thee, and get thee wood enough.
A plague upon the tyrant that I serve!
I'll bear him no more sticks, but follow thee,
Thou wondrous man.

Trin. A most ridiculous mcnster! to make a wonder of a poor drunkard. [glow;

Cal. I pr'ythee, let me bring thee where crabs And I with my long nails will dig thee pig-nuts; Show thee a jay's nest, and instruct thee how To snare the nimble marmozet; I'll bring thee To clust'ring filberds, and sometimes I'll get thee Young sea-mells from the rock: Wilt thou go with me!

Ste. I pr'ythee now lead the way, without any more talking. Trinculo, the king and all our company else being drowned, we will inherit here.--Here; bear my bottle. Fellow Trinculo, we'll fill him by and by again.

Cal. Farewell, master; farewell, farewell.

[Sings drunkenly. Trin. A howling monster; a drunken monster. Cal. No more dams I'll make for fish; Nor fetch in firing

At requiring,

Nor scrape trenchering, nor wash dish; 'Ban, 'Ban, Ca-Caliban

Has a new master-Get a new man.

Freedom, hey-day! hey-day, freedom! freedom, hey-day, freedom!

Ste. O brave monster! lead the way. [Exeunt.

ACT III.

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Delight in them sets off; some kinds of baseness
Are nobly undergone; and most poor matters
Point to rich ends. This my mean task would be
As heavy to me, as 'tis odious; but

The mistress, which I serve, quickens what's dead,
And makes my labors pleasures: O, she is
Ten times more gentle than her father's crabbed;
And he's composed of harshness. I must remove
Some thousands of these logs, and pile them up,
Upon a sore injunction: My sweet mistress
Weeps when she sees me work; and-says, such

baseness

Had ne'er like éxecutor. I forget:

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I'll bear your logs the while: Pray, give me that;
If you'll sit down,
I'll carry it to the pile.

Fer.

No, precious creature: I had rather crack my sinews, break my back, Than you should such dishonor undergo, While I sit lazy by.

Mira. It would become me With much more ease; for my good will is to it, As well as it does you: and I should do it And yours against.

Pro.

Poor worm! thou art infected;

But these sweet thoughts do even refresh my labors; This visitation shows it. Most busy-less, when I do it.

Enter MIRANDA; and PROSPERO at a distance.

Mira.
Alas, now! pray you
Work not so hard: I would the lightning had
Burnt up those logs, that you are enjoin'd to pile!

Mira.

You look wearily.

Fer. No, noble mistress; 'tis fresh morning with me, When you are by at night. I do beseech you,

• Sea gulls.

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