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This wide-chapp'd rascal,- would thou might'st
The washing of ten tides! [lie drowning,
He'll be hanged 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.
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, anything. The wills above be
done! but I would fain die a dry death. [Exit.
THE ISLAND: BEFORE THE CELL OF PROSPERO.
Enter Prospero and Miranda.
M. 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
But that the sea, mounting to th' welkin's cheek,
Dashes the fire out. O! I have suffered
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 freighting souls within her.
No more amazement.
There's no harm done.
Tell your piteous heart,
O, woe the day!
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.
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.
But that I do not.
Pro. Twelve years since, Miranda, twelve years
Thy father was the Duke of Milan, and [since,
A prince of power.
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.
O, the heavens!
What foul play had we, that we came from
Or blessed was 't, we did?
Both, both, my girl;
By foul play, as thou say'st, were we heav'd
But blessedly holp hither.
O! my heart bleeds
To think o' th' teen1 that I have turned you to,
Which is from my remembrance. Please you,
P. My brother, and thy uncle, called Antonio,-
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?
Pro. Being once perfected how to grant suits, How to deny them, whom to advance, and whom To trash2 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, Which thou heard'st cry, which thou saw'st sink. And suck'd my verdure out on't.-Thou attend'st I pray thee, mark me.
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
O good sir! I do.
Pro.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-prized all popular rate, in my false brother
Awak'd an evil nature; and my trust,
Like a good parent, did beget of him 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 And him he play'd it for, he needs will be [play'd, Absolute Milan. Me, poor man-my library Was dukedom large enough. Of temporal royalHe thinks me now incapable; confederates [ties (So dry he was for sway) wi' th' King of NaplesTo 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. Ŏ the heavens ! Pro. Mark his condition, and th' event; then If this might be a brother. [tell me, 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 the purpose hurried thence Me, and thy crying self.
That hour destroy us? Pro.
Well demanded, wench :
My tale provokes that question. Dear, they durst not,
(So dear the love my people bore me) nor set
A 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.
Pro. By Providence divine.
Some food we had, and some fresh water, that
A noble Neapolitan, Gonzalo,
Out of his charity (who being then appointed
Master of this design), did give us, with
Rich garments, linens, stuffs, and necessaries,
Which since have steaded much. So, of his
Knowing I lov'd my books, he furnish'd me,
From mine own library, with volumes that
I prize above my dukedom.
Would I might
But ever see that man!
(For still 'tis beating in my mind) your reason
For raising this sea-storm?
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 morequestions.
Thou art inclin'd to sleep: 'tis a good dulness,
And give it way:-I know thou canst not choose.-
Come away, servant, come! I am ready now:
Approach, my Ariel: come.
Ariel. All hail, great master; grave sir, hail. I
To answer thy best pleasure; be 't to fly, [come
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,
Perform'd to point 2 the tempest that I bade
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
O' th' dreadful thunder-claps, more momentary
And sight-outrunning were not: the fire and
My brave spirit!
Who was so firm, so constant, that this coil1
Would not infect his reason?
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-firewithme:the King's son, Ferdinand,
With hair up-staring (then like reeds, not hair)
Was the first man that leap'd.
But was not this nigh shore?
Close by, my master.
Pro. But are they, Ariel, safe?
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.
Of the King's ship
The mariners, say, how thou hast dispos'd,
And all the rest o' th' fleet?
The foul witch Sycorax, who, with age and envy,
Was grown into a hoop? hast thou forgot her?
Ari. No, sir.
Pro. Thou hast. Where was she born? speak
Ari. Sir, in Argier.1
O! was she so? I must,
Once in a month, recount what thou hast been,
Which thou forget'st. This vile witch, Sycorax.
For mischiefs manifold, and sorceries terrible
To enter human hearing, from Argier, [did,
Thou know'st, was banish'd: for one thing she
They would not take her life. Is not this true?
Ari. Ay, sir.
Pro. This blue-ey'd hag was hither brought
And here was left by th'sailors. Thou, my slave
As thou report'st thyself, wast then her servant:
And, for thou wast a spirit too delicate
To act her earthy and abhorr'd commands,
Refusing her grand 'hests, she did confine thee,
By help of her more potent ministers,
And in her most unmitigable rage,
Into a cloven pine; within which rift
Imprison'd, thou didst painfully remain
A dozen years; within which space she died, And left thee there, where thou didst vent thy groans [island Is the King's ship: in the deep nook, where once As fast as mill-wheels strike. Then was this Thou call'dst me up at midnight to fetch dew (Save for the son that she did litter here, From the still-vex'd Bermoothes,2 there she's-A freckl'd whelp, hag-born) not honour'd with The mariners all under hatches stow'd; [hid; A human shape. 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.
Ariel, thy charge
Exactly is perform'd; but there's more work.
What is the time o' th' day?
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
Pro. Dull thing, I say so; he, that Caliban,
Whom now I keep in service. Thou best know'st
What torment I did find thee in: thy groans
Did make wolves howl, and penetrate the breasts
Of ever-angry bears. This Sycorax
Could not again undo: it was mine art,
When I arriv'd and heard thee, that made gape
The pine, and let thee out.
I thank thee, master.
P. If thou more murmur'st, I will rend an oak,
And peg thee in his knotty entrails, till
Thou hast howl'd away twelve winters.
I will be correspondent to command,
And do my spriting gently.
Do so, and after two days
I will discharge thee.
That's my noble master!
What shall I do? say what-what shall I do?
Pro. Go, make thyself like a nymph o' th'
sea: be subject
To no sight but thine and mine; invisible
To every eyeball else. Go, take this shape,
And hither come in't: go hence, with diligence.
Awake, dear heart, awake! thou hast slept well;
Mira. The strangeness of your story put
Heaviness in me.
Shake it off. Come on:
We'll visit Caliban, my slave, who never
Yields us kind answer.
I do not love to look on.
Pro. Thou liest, malignant thing! Hast thou We cannot miss him: he does make our fire,
Fetch in our wood, and serves in offices
That profit us.-What hoa! slave! Caliban !
Thou earth, thou! speak.
Cal. [Within.] There's wood enough within. Pro. Come forth, I say: there's other business Come, thou tortoise! when? [for thee.
Enter Ariel, like a Water-nymph. Fine apparition! My quaint Ariel, Hark in thine ear.
Ari. My lord, it shall be done. [Exit. Pro. Thou poisonous slave, come forth!
Cal. As wicked dew as e'er my mother brush'd With raven's feather from unwholesome fen Drop on you both! a south-west blow on ye, And blister you all o'er !
[cramps, Pro. For this, be sure, to-night thou shalt have Side-stitches 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-comb, each pinch more stinging
Than bees that made 'em.
I must eat my dinner.
This island's mine, by Sycorax my mother,
Which thou takest from me. When thou camest
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 thee,
And show'd thee all the qualities o' th' isle,
The fresh springs, brine pits, barren place and
Curs'd 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
In this hard rock, whiles you do keep from me
The rest o' th' island.
Thou most lying slave, Whom stripes may move, not kindness, I have us'd thee, [thee Filth as thou art, with human care; and lodg'd In mine own cell, till thou didst seek to violate The honour of my child. Abhorred slave, Which any print of goodness wilt not take, Being capable of all ill! I pitied thee, [hour Took pains to make thee speak, taught thee each One thing or other: when thou didst not, savage, Know thine own meaning, but would'st gabble
A thing most brutish, I endow'd thy purposes
With words that made them known; but thy vile
Though thou didst learn, had that in 't which
Could not abide to be with: therefore wast thou
Deservedly confin'd into this rock,
Who hadst deserved more than a prison. [on't
Cal. You taught me language; and my profit
Is, I know how to curse. The red plague rid 2
For learning me your language! [you,
ARI. Hark, hark! I hear
The strain of strutting chanticlere /
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 wrack, 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 fadom 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:
[Burthen :] Ding-dong.
Hark! now I hear them,-ding-dong, bell.
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'.
Mira. What is 't? a spirit? See 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 [seest As we have,-such. This gallant which thou Was in the wrack; and but he's something stain'd [call him With grief, that's beauty's canker, thou might'st A goodly person. He hath lost his fellows, And strays about to find 'em. Mira.
A thing divine; for nothing natural
I ever saw so noble.
Pro. [Aside.] It goes on, I see,
As my soul prompts it.-Spirit, fine spirit! I'll
Within two days from this.
Most sure, the goddess
On whom these airs attend !-Vouchsafe, my
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.
My language! heavens! I am the best of them that speak this speech, Were I but where 'tis spoken.
Pro. How? the best? [thee? What wert thou, if the King of Naples heard 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, wrack'd. Mira. Alack, for mercy! Fer. Yes, faith, and all his lords; the Duke of Milan,
And his brave son, being twain.
Pro. [Aside. The Duke of Milan, [thee, And his more braver daughter, could controli If now 't were fit to do 't. At the first sight They have chang'd eyes:-delicate Ariel, I'll set thee free for this !-[To him.] A word, good sir! [word. I fear you have done yourself some wrong-a M. Why speaks my father so ungently? This Is the third man that e'er I saw; the first That e'er I sigh'd for. Pity move my father To be inclin'd my way!
And your affection not gone forth, I'll make you The Queen of Naples.
Pro. [Aside.] They are both in either's pow'rs: but this swift business
Soft, sir: one word more.
I must uneasy make, lest too light winning Make the prize light.-[To him.] One word more: I charge thee,
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.
No, as I am a man.
Mira. There's nothing ill can dwell in such a
If the ill spirit have so fair a house, [temple:
Good things will strive to dwell with 't.
Pro. [To Fer.] Follow me.--
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
Wherein the acorn cradled. Follow. [husks,
I will resist such entertainment, till
Mine enemy has more power.
[He draws, and is charmed from moving.
My spirits, as in a dream, are all bound up.
My father's loss, the weakness which I feel,
The wrack of all my friends, nor this man's
To whom I am subdu'd, 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.
[Aside.] It works. [Alternately to Fer. and Mira., and to Art. Come on.
Thou hast done well, fine Ariel !→→
Follow me.-Hark, what thou else shalt do me.
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. [To Ariel.] Thou shalt be as free
As mountain winds: but then exactly do
All points of my command.
To th' syllable.
Pro. Come, follow.-Speak not for him.
SCENE I.-ANOTHER PART OF THE ISLAND.
Enter Alonso, Sebastian, Antonio, Gonzalo,
Adrian, Francisco, and Others.
Gon. Beseech you, sir, be merry: you have
(So have we all) of joy; for our escape [cause
Is much beyond our loss. Our hint of woe
Is common: every day, some sailor's wife,
The mastersof some merchant, andthe 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.