Or it hath drawn me rather:-But 'tis gone. No, it begins again. Ariel sings. Full fathom five thy father lies; A goodly person: he hath lost his fellows, Mira. I might call him Pro. 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 Mira. But, certainly a maid. Fer. No wonder, sir; My language! heavens! How! the best? Fer. O, if a virgin, And your affection not gone forth, I'll make you They are both in either's powers: but this swift What, I say, Make not too rash a trial of him, for My foot my tutor!-Put thy sword up, traitor; Is so possess'd with guilt: come from thy ward; Mira. I'll be his surety. Thou think'st there are no more such shapes as he, Mira. Pro. So they are: Come on; obey: [To Ferd. SCENE I. ACT II. Another Part of the Island. Enter Alonso, Sebastian, Antonio, Gonzalo, Adrian, Gon. 'Beseech you, sir, be merry. you have cause I must uneasy make, lest too light winning [Aside. Seb. A dollar. Gon. When every grief is entertain'd, that's now as fresh, as when we were at Tunis at the Gon. Dolour comes to him, indeed; you have spoken truer than you purposed. Seb. You have taken it wiselier than I meant you should. Gon. Therefore, my lord,- Ant. Fie, what a spendthrift is he of his tongue! Alon. I pr'ythee spare. Gon. Well, I have done: But yet Seb. He will be talking. Ant. That sort was well fish'd for. Gon. When I wore it at your daughter's marriage? Alon. You cram these words into mine ears, against The stomach of my sense: 'would I had never Ant. Which of them, he, or Adrian, for a good Married my daughter there! for, coming thence, wager, first begins to crow? Seb. The old cock. Seb. Ha, ha, ha! Ant. So, you've pay'd. My son is lost; and, in my rate, she too, I ne'er again shall see her. O thou mine heir Fran. 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 Adr. Uninhabitable, and almost inaccessible, The surge most swoln that met him: his bold head Adr. Yet Ant. He could not miss it. 'Bove the contentious waves he kept, and oar'd Adr. It must needs be of subtle, tender, and de- As stooping to relieve him: I doubt not, licate temperance. Ant. Temperance was a delicate wench. Seb. Aye, and a subtle; as he most learnedly delivered. Adr. The air breathes upon us here most sweetly. Gon. Here is every thing advantageous to life. Seb. Of that there's none, or little. He came alive to land. Alon. loss No, no, he's gone. Seb. Sir, you may thank yourself for this great {ter, That would not bless our Europe with your daughBut 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. Gon. How lush and lusty the grass looks? how By all of us; and the fair soul herself green ? Ant. The ground, indeed, is tawny. 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 Africk, 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 grac'd 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 Æneas 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. next? Pr'ythee, peace. Seb. You were kneel'd to, and importun'd other[wise Weigh'd, between lothness and obedience, at' Which end o'the beam she bow'd. We have lost your son, I fear, for ever: Milan and Naples have Your own. Alon. So is the dearest of the loss. My lord Sebastian, Very well. Ant. And most chirurgeonly. Gon. It is foul weather in us all, good sir, When you are cloudy. Seb. Ant. Foul weather? Very foul. Gon. Had I 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; riches, poverty, And use of service, none; contract, successions, Bourn, 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 forgets the beginning. Gon. All things in common, nature should produce Without sweat or endeavour: treason, felony, Seb. No marrying 'mong his subjects? 2 Ant. None, man; all idle; whores, and knaves. Gon. I would with such perfection govern, sir, To excel the golden age. Seb. Ant. Long live Gonzalo ! The setting of thine eye, and cheek, proclaim A matter from thee; and a birth, indeed, Which throes thee much to yield. Ant. Thus, sir: Although this lord of weak remembrance, this ?-(Who shall be of as little memory, 'Save his majesty ! And, do you mark me, sir Alon. Pr'ythee, no more: thou dost talk nothing Gon. to me. 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 ? 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 musick. 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. Seh. and Ant. Alon. What, all so soon asleep! I wish mine eyes Would, with themselves, shut up my thoughts: They are inclin'd to do so. [find, Please you, sir, Seb. Do not omit the heavy offer of it: When he is earth'd,) hath here almost persuaded O, out of that no ho, But doubts discovery there. Will you grant, with 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' th' moon's too slow,) till new-born chins Be rough and razorable: she, from whom We all were 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 As this Gonzalo; I myself could make Ant. True: And, look, how well my garinents 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, [whom 1, If he were that which now he's like, that's dead; 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 To fall it on Gonzalo. Seb. O, but one word. Ari. My master through his art foresees the danger His time doth take: If of life you keep a care, Ant. Then let us both be sudden. [They wake. Alon. man when they will not give a doit to relieve a Enter Stephano, singing; a bottle in his hand. The master, the swabber, the boatswain, and I, Lov'd Mall, Meg, and Marian, and Margery, Cal. Do not torment me: 0! Ste. This is some monster of the isle, with four legs; who hath got, as I take it, an ague: Where Lead away. [done: the devil should he learn our language? I will give him some relief, if it be but for that: If I can [Aside. recover him, and keep him tame, and get to Naples with him, he's a present for any emperor that ever trod on neat's-leather. Ari. Prospero, my lord, shall know what I have So, king, go safely on to seek thy son. [Exeunt. SCENE II. Another Part of the Island. Cal. All the infections that the sun sucks up 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, Cal. Do not torment me, pr'ythee; 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 shai! pay for him that hath him, and that soundly. Cal. Thou dost me yet but little hurt; thou wilt 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. But he is drowned; and these are devils: O! de Trin. I should know that voice: It should be fend me ! Ste. Four legs, and two voices; a most 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, IAmen! I will pour some in thy other mouth. Trin. Stephano, Trin. Here's neither bush nor shrub, to bear off any weather at all, and another storm brewing; hear it sing i' th' 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 pailfuls. 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 but 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 Ste. Doth thy other mouth call me? Mercy! 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 afeard, 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, these are they. Thou art very Trinculo, indeed: How cam'st thou to be the siege of this moon-calf? Can he vent Trinculos? Trin. I took him to be killed with a thunder hey-day, freedom! Sie. O brave monster! lead the way. [Exeunt. stroke-But art thou not drowned, Stephano? I| Freedom, hey day! hey-day, freedom! freedom, hope now, thou art not drowned. Is the storm overblown? I hid me under the dead moon-calf's gaberdine, for fear of the storm: And art thou living, Stephano? O Stephano, two Neapolitans 'scap'd! Ste. Pr'ythee, do not turn me about; my stomach is not constant. 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 over-board, 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 can'st 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 shewed me thee, and thy dog, and thy bush. Ste. Come, swear to that; kiss the book: I will furnish it anon with new contents: swear. ACT III. SCENE I. Before Prospero's Cell. Enter Ferdinand, bearing a Log. Fer. There be some sports are painful; and their labour Delight in them sets off: some kinds of baseness Enter Miranda; and Prospero at a Distance. Work not so hard: I would, the lightning had Fer. Mira. Trin. By this good light, this is a very shallow monster-I afeard of him ?-a very weak monIf you'll sit down, ster :-The man i' the moon? a most poor credu- I'll bear your logs the while: Pray, give me that: lous monster :-Well drawn, monster, in good sooth. I'll carry it to the pile. Cal. I'll shew thee every fertile inch o'th' island; Fer. No, precious creature: And I will kiss thy foot. I pr'ythee, be my god. I had rather crack my sinews, break my back,.. Trin. By this light, a most perfidious and drunk-Than you should such dishonour undergo, en monster; when his god's asleep, he'll rob his While I sit lazy by. bottle. Mira. Cal. I'll kiss thy foot: I'll swear myself thy subject. Ste. Come on then; down, and swear.. Trin. I shall laugh myself to death at this pup. py-headed monster: A most scurvy monster ! I could find in my heart to beat him, Ste. Come, kiss. Trin. but that the poor monster's in drink: An abominable monster! Cal. I'll shew thee the best springs; I'll pluck thee berries; I'll fish for thee, and get thee wood enough. Trin. A most ridiculous monster; to make a wonder of a poor drunkard. [grow; Cal. I pr'ythee, let me bring thee where crabs And I with my long nails will dig thee pig-nuts; Shew 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. Nor scrape trenchering, nor wash dish; Has a new master-Get a new man. [me, It would become me As well as it does you and I should do it With much more ease; for my good will is to it, And yours it is against. Pro. Poor worm! thou art infected; This visitation shews it. Mira. You look wearily. Fer. No, noble mistress; 'tis fresh morning with When you are by at night. I do beseech you, (Chiefly, that I might set it in my prayers,) What is your name? Miranda :--O my father, I have broke your hest to say so! Mira. Fer. Admir'd Miranda Indeed, the top of admiration; worth What's dearest to the world! Full many a lady I have ey'd with best regard; and many a time The harmony of their tongues hath into bondage Brought my too diligent ear: for several virtues Have I lik'd several women; never any With so full soul, but some defect in her Did quarrel with the noblest grace she ow'd, And put it to the foil: But you, O you, So perfect, and so peerless, are created Of every creature's best. Mira. I do not know One of my sex; no woman's face remember, Save, from my glass, mine own; nor have I seen More that I may call men, than you, good friend, And my dear father: how features are abroad, I am skill-less of; but, by my modesty, (The jewel in my dower,) I would not wish Any companion in the world but you, Nor can imagination form a shape, Resides yourself, to like of: But I prattle Something too wildly, and my father's precepts I therein do forget. Fer. I am in my condition, |