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Ari. Hark, hark! I hear

The strain of strutting chanticlere
Cry, Cock-a-doodle-doo.

Fer. Where should this music be? i' th' air, or
th' earth?-

It sounds no more;-and sure, it waits upon
Some god o' th' 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.

ARIEL sings.

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:
[Burden: ding-dong.
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'.
Mira.

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
such senses

As we have; such. This gallant which thou

seest,

Was in the wreck; and but he's something stain'd

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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. Mira. Alack, for mercy! Fer. Yes, faith, and all his lords; the duke of Milan, And his brave son, being twain.

Pro. The duke of Milan, And his more braver daughter, could control thee, If now 'twere fit to do't.-[Aside.]-At the first sight

They have chang'd eyes:-delicate Ariel,

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Shall make me chide thee, if not hate thee. What'
An advocate for an impostor? hush!

Thou think'st there are no more such shapes as he
Having seen but him and Caliban: foolish wench
To the most of men this is a Caliban,
And they to him are angels.

Mira.

My affections Are then most humble: I have no ambition To see a goodlier man. Pro. Come on; obey: [To FER Thy nerves are in their infancy again, And have no vigour in them. Fer. So they are: 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, nor 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' th' 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 MIR

Hark, what thou else shall do me.

Mira.

[To ARIEL

Be of comfort.

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Gon. Here is every thing advantageous to life. Ant. True; save means to live.

Seb. Of that there's none, or little.

Gon. How lush and lusty the grass looks! how green!

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 dyed, 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 rais'd the wall, 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 sowing 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 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

day I wore it? I mean, in a sort.

Ant. That sort was well fish'd for.

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Very foul.

Gon. Had I plantation of this isle, my lord,— Ant. He'd sow 't with nettle-seed.

Seb. Or docks, or mallows. Gon. And were the king on't, 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, succession, 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. 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, Sword, pike, knife, gun, or need of any engine, Would I not have; but nature should bring forth, Of its own kind, all foizon, 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.

Seb.

'Save his majesty! Ant. Long live Gonzalo !

Gon.

And, do you mark me, sir?Alon. Pr'ythee, no more: thou dost talk nothing

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!

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
a bat-fowling.
Ant. Nay, good my lord, be not angry.
Gon. No, I warrant you; I will not adventure

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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 all were sea-swallow'd, though some cast again;
And by that destiny 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?
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-that's dead,
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

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