Side-stiches, that shall pen thy breath up; urchins1 Shall, for that vast of night that they may work, All exercise on thee: thou shalt be pinch'd
As thick as honey-combs, each pinch more stinging] Than bees that made them.
Cal. 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; would'st give me
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 And show'd thee all the qualities o' the isle, The fresh springs, brine pits, barren place, fertile ;
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, Which first was mine own king; and here you sty me In this hard rock, whiles you do keep from me The rest of the island.
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 rid2 you, For learning me your language! Pro. Hag-seed, hence! Fetch us in fuel; and be quick, thou were 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.
Cal. 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.
Re-enter Ariel, invisible, playing and singing; Ferdinand following him.
ARIEL'S SONG.
Come unto these yellow sands,
And then take hands:
Court'sied when you have, and kiss'd (The wild waves whist3)
Foot it featly here and there; And, sweet sprites, the burden bear. Hark, hark!
Bur. Bowgh, wowgh. The watch-dogs bark: Bur. Bowgh, wowgh.
Hark, hark! fhear
The strain of strutting chanticlere, Cry, Cock-a-doodle-doo.
Fer. Where should this music be? i' the air, o the earth?
It sounds no more:-and sure, it waits upon Some god of the island. Sitting on a bank, Weeping again the king my father's wreck, This music crept by me upon the waters; Allaying both their fury, and my passion, With its sweet air: thence I have follow'd it, Or it hath drawn me rather:-But 'tis gone. No, it begins again.
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. [Burden, ding-dong.
Fer. The ditty does remember my drown'd
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." Pro. No, wench; it eats and sleeps, and hath
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 call him
A goodly person: he hath lost his fellows, And strays about to find them. Mira. I might call him A thing divine; for nothing natural I ever saw so noble. Pro. [Aside. As my soul prompts it:-Spirit, fine spirit! I'l free thee Within two days for this.
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 maid, or no?
But, certainly a maid. Fer.
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 7
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 ere I saw; the first That ere I sigh'd for: pity move my father To be inclin'd my way!
My spirits, as in a dream, are all bound up. My father's loss, the weakness which I feel, The wreck of all my friends, or this man's threats, To whom I am subdued, are but light to me, Might I but through my prison, once a day, Behold this maid: all corners else o' the earth Let liberty make use of; space enough Have I in such a prison. Pro.
It works:-Come on.- Thou hast done well, fine Ariel!-Follow me.- [To Ferd. and Mira. Hark, what thou else shalt do me. [To Ariel, Mira. Be of comfort,
My father's of a better nature, sir, Than he appears by speech; this is unwonted, Which now came from him. Pro. Thou shalt be as free As mountain winds: but then exactly do Soft, sir; one word more.-All points of my command. They are both in either's powers: but this swift Ari. To the syllable. business Pro. Come, follow: speak not for him. [Exeunt.
Fer. O, if a virgin, And your affection not gone forth, I'll make you The queen of Naples. Pro.
I must uneasy make, lest too light winning[Aside. Make the prize light.-One word more; I charge
That thou attend me: thou dost here usurp The name thou ow'st not: and hast put thyself Upon this island, as a spy, to win it
From me, the lord on't."
Fer. No, as I am a man. Mira. There's nothing ill can dwell in such temple:
If the ill spirit have so fair a house, Good things will strive to dwell with 't. Follow me. [To Ferd. Speak not you for him; he's a traitor.-Come, I'll manacle thy neck and feet together: Sea-water shalt thou drink, thy food shall be The fresh-brook muscles, wither'd roots, and husks, Wherein the acorn cradled. Follow.
Alon. You cram these words into mine ears,
Adr. Uninhabitable, and almost inaccessible, The stomach of my sense: 'would I had never
Ant. He could not miss it.
Married my daughter there! for, coming thence, My son is lost; and, in my rate, she too, Who is so far from Italy remov'd,
Adr. It must needs be of subtle, tender, and I ne'er again shall see her. O thou mine heir Of Naples and of Milan, what strange fish Hath made his meal on thee!
Ant. Temperance was a delicate wench. Seb. Ay, and a subtle; as he most learnedly de- livered.
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.
Sir, he may live; I saw him beat the surges under him, And ride upon their backs; he trod the water, Whose enmity he flung aside, and breasted The surge most swoln that met him: his bold head
'Bove the contentious waves he kept, and oar'd Himself with his good arms in lusty stroke
Gon. How lush and lusty the grass looks! how To the shore, that o'er his wave-worn basis bow'd green!
Ant. The ground, indeed, is tawny.
Seb. With an eyes 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
As stooping to relieve him. I not doubt, He came alive to land.
That would not bless our Europe with your daugh ter,
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 of the beam she'd bow. We have lost your son,
fear, for ever: 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. Ant. And most chirurgeonly. Gon. It is foul weather in us all, good sir, When you are cloudy.
Ant. Very foul. Gon. Had I a plantation of this isle, my lord,- Ant. He'd sow it with nettle-seed. Seb. Or docks, or mallows. Gon. And were the king of it, What would I do? Seb. 'Scape being drunk, for want of wine. Gon. I' the commonwealth I would by contraries Execute all things: for no kind of traffic Would I admit; no name of magistrate; Letters should not be known; no use of service, Of riches or of poverty; no contracts, Successions; bound of land, tilth, vineyard, none : No use of metal, corn, or wine, or oil: No occupation; all men idle, all; And women too; but innocent and pure: No sovereignty :- :- Seb. And yet he would be king on't. Ant. The latter end of his commonwealth for-
Gon. Sir, we were talking, that our garments seem now as fresh, as when we were at Tunis, at the marriage of your daughter, who is now queen. Ant. And the rarest that e'er came there. Seb. 'Bate, I beseech you, widow Dido. Ant. O, widow Dido; ay, widow Dido. Gon. Is not, sir, my doublet as fresh as the first gets the beginning. day I wore it? I mean, in a sort.
Ant. That sort was well fish'd for. Gon. When I wore it at your daughter's marriage?
(1) Temperature. (2) Rank. (5) Shade of colour.
Gon. All things in common nature should produce Without sweat or endeavour: treason, felony, Sword, pike, knife, gun, or need of any engine,
(4) Degrec or quality, (5) The rack,
Would I not have; but nature should bring forth, Whiles thou art waking. Of its own kind, all soizon,' all abundance, To feed my innocent people.
Seb. No marrying 'mong his subjects?
Ant. None, man; all idle; whores and knaves. Gon. I would with such perfection govern, sir, To excel the golden age. 'Save his majesty!
Ant. Long live Gonzalo! Gon.
Thou dost snore distinctly; There's meaning in thy snores.
Ant. I am more serious than my custom: you Must be so too, if heed me; which to do, Trebles thee o'er.
Well; I am standing water. Ant. I'll teach you how to flow. Seb.
And, do you mark me, sir?-Hereditary sloth instructs me. Ant. Alon. Pr'ythee, no more: Thou dost talk noIf you but knew, how you the purpose cherish, thing to me. Gon. I do well believe your highness; and did Whiles thus you mock it! how, in stripping it, it to minister occasion to these gentlemen, who are You more invest it! Ebbing men, indeed, of such sensible and nimble lungs, that they always Most often do so near the bottom run, By their own fear, or sloth. use to laugh at nothing. Seb.
Ant. 'Twas you we laugh'd at. Gon. Who, in this kind of merry fooling, am The setting of thine eye, and cheek, proclaim nothing to you; so you may continue, and laugh A matter from thee; and a birth, indeed, Which throes thee much to yield. at nothing still.
Ant. What a blow was there given: Seb. An it had not fallen flat-long. Gon. You are gentlemen of brave mettle; 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. Seb. and Ant. What, all so soon asleep! I wish mine eyes with themselves, shut up my thoughts: I find,
t.ey are inclined to do so.
Please you, sir, Do not omit the heavy offer of it:
It seldom visits sorrow; when it doth, It is a comforter.
Ant. Will guard your person, while you take your rest, And watch your safety. Alon. Thank you: wondrous heavy. [Alonso sleeps. Exit Ariel. Seb. What a strange drowsiness possesses them! Ant. It is the quality o' the climate. Seb. Why Doth it not then our eye-lids sink? I find not Myself dispos'd to sleep.
Ant. Nor I; my spirits are nimble. They fell together all, as by consent; They dropp'd, as by a thunder-stroke. What might, Worthy Sebastian?-0, what might?-No more:- And yet methinks, I see it in thy face,
What thou should'st be: the occasion speaks thee; and
My strong imagination sees a crown Dropping upon thy head. Seb.
What, art thou waking? Ant. Do you not hear me speak? Seb.
It is a sleepy language; and thou speak'st Out of thy sleep: what is it thou didst say? This is a strange repose, to be asleep
O, out of that no hope, What great hope have you! no hope, that way, is Another way so high a hope, that even Ambition cannot pierce a wink beyond, But doubts discovery there.
He's gone. Then, tell me,
That Ferdinand is drown'd? Seb. Ant. Who's the next heir of Naples? 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-swallowed, 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
With eyes wide open; standing, speaking, moving,|___Ant. And yet so fast asleep.
Thou let'st thy fortune sleep-die rather; wink'st
(2) A bird of the jack-daw kind.
You did supplant your brother Prospero.
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 kibe, 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 forever: 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.
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.
Draw together: And when I rear my hand, do you the like, To fall it on Gonzalo. Seb.
O, but one word. [They converse apart.
Music. Re-enter Ariel, invisible. Ari. My master through his art foresees the danger
That these, his friends, are in; and sends me forth, (For else his project dies,) 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. 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, sír, I heard a hum- ming, 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 fur- ther search
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: Sometimes like apes, that moe3 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!
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 bumbard 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 pail
fuls.-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 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, of 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 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, lo 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 boastswain, and I, The gunner, and his mate, Lov'd Mall, Meg, 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:
(4) A black jack of leather, to hold beer. (5) The frock of a peasant.
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