Seb.
Prithee, say on:
220 The setting of thine eye and cheek proclaim
A matter from thee; and a birth, indeed,
Which throes thee much to yield.
Ant.
Although this lord of weak remembrance, this,
Who shall be of as little memory
II. 1. 225 When he is earth’d, hath here almost persuaded,—
For he’s a spirit of persuasion, only
Professes to persuade,—the king his son’s alive,
’Tis as impossible that he’s undrown’d
As he that sleeps here swims.
Seb.
I have no hope
That he’s undrown’d.
Ant.
230 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 doubt discovery there. Will you grant with me
That Ferdinand is drown’d?
Seb.
He’s gone.
Ant.
235 Then, tell me,
Who’s the next heir of Naples?
Seb.
Claribel.
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,—
240 The man i’ the moon’s too slow,—till new-born chins
Be rough and razorable; she that 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.
245 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
II. 1. 250 Measure us back to Naples? Keep in Tunis,
And let Sebastian wake.” Say, this were death
That now hath seized 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
255 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.
260 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
265 Were then my fellows; now they are my men.
Seb. But for your conscience.
Ant. Ay, sir; where lies that? if ’twere a kibe,
’Twould put me to my slipper: but I feel not
This deity in my bosom: twenty consciences,
270 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,
II. 1. 275 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;
280 They’ll tell the clock to any business that
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 payest;
And I the king shall love thee.
Ant.
285 Draw together;
And when I rear my hand, do you the like,
To fall it on Gonzalo.
Seb.
O, but one word. They talk apart.
Re-enter Ariel invisible.
Ari. My master through his art foresees the danger
That you, his friend, are in; and sends me forth,—
290 For else his project dies,—to keep them living.
Sings in Gonzalo’s ear.
While you here do snoring lie,
Open-eyed conspiracy
His time doth take.
If of life you keep a care,
295 Shake off slumber, and beware:
Awake, awake!
Ant. Then let us both be sudden.
Alon. Why, how now? ho, awake!—Why are you drawn?
Wherefore this ghastly looking?
Gon.
II. 1. 300 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’t not wake you?
It struck mine ear most terribly.
Alon.
I heard nothing.
305 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, sir, I heard a humming,
And that a strange one too, which did awake me:
310 I shaked you, sir, and cried: as mine eyes open’d,
I saw their weapons drawn:—there was a noise,
That’s verily. ’Tis best we 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 my poor son.
Gon.
315 Heavens keep him from these beasts!
For he is, sure, i’ th’ island.
Alon.
Lead away.
Ari. Prospero my lord shall know what I have done:
So, king, go safely on to seek thy son. Exeunt.
II. 2 Scene II. Another part of the island.
Enter Caliban with a burden of wood. A noise of thunder heard.
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,
5 Fright me with urchin-shows, pitch me i’ the mire,
Nor lead me, like a firebrand, in the dark
Out of my way, unless he bid ’em: but
For every trifle are they set upon me;
Sometime like apes, that mow and chatter at me,
10 And after bite me; then like hedgehogs, which
Lie tumbling in my barefoot way, and mount
Their pricks at my footfall; sometime am I
All wound with adders, who with cloven tongues
Do hiss me into madness.
Enter Trinculo.
Lo, now, lo!
15 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’ 20 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 II. 2. 25 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 30 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. Legged 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 35 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.
40 Ste. I shall no more to sea, to sea,
Here shall I die a-shore,—
This is a very scurvy tune to sing at a man’s funeral: well, here’s my comfort. Drinks.
[Sings. The master, the swabber, the boatswain, and I,
45 The gunner, and his mate,
Loved Mall, Meg, and Marian, and Margery,
But none of us cared for Kate;
For she had a tongue with a tang,
Would cry to a sailor, Go hang!
II. 2. 50 She loved not the savour of tar nor 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!
55 Ste. What’s the matter? Have we devils here? Do you put tricks upon ’s with savages and men of Ind, ha? I have not scaped 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 60 said so again, while Stephano breathes at’s nostrils.
Cal. The spirit torments me:—O!
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 65 but for that. If I can 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.
Cal. Do not torment me, prithee; I’ll bring my wood home faster.
70 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.
II. 2. 75 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: 80 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 most delicate monster! His forward voice, now, is to speak well of his friend; 85 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!
90 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 95 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 earnest thou to be the siege of this moon-calf? can he vent Trinculos?
II. 2. 100 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 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 105 scaped!
Ste. Prithee, do not turn me about; my stomach is not constant.
Cal. [aside] These be fine things, an if they be not sprites.
That’s a brave god, and bears celestial liquor:
110 I will kneel to him.
Ste. How didst thou ’scape? How camest thou hither? swear, by this bottle, how thou camest hither. I escaped upon a butt of sack, which the sailors heaved o’erboard, by this bottle! which I made of the bark of a tree with mine 115 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 escapedst.
Trin. Swum ashore, man, like a duck: I can swim 120 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 II. 2. 125 the sea-side, where my wine is hid. How now, moon-calf! how does thine ague?
Cal. Hast thou not dropp’d from heaven?
Ste. Out o’ the moon, I do assure thee: I was the man i’ the moon when time was.
130 Cal. I have seen thee in her, and I do adore thee: My mistress show’d 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.
Trin. By this good light, this is a very shallow monster! 135 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’ th’ island;
And I will kiss thy foot: I prithee, be my god.
140 Trin. By this light, a most perfidious and drunken monster! when’s 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.
Trin. I shall laugh myself to death at this puppy-headed monster. A most scurvy monster! I could find in 145 my heart to beat him,—
Ste. Come, kiss.
Trin. But that the poor monster’s in drink: an abominable monster!
II. 2. 150 Cal. I’ll show thee the best springs; I’ll pluck thee berries;
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 monster, to make a wonder 155 of a poor drunkard!
Cal. I prithee, let me bring thee where crabs grow;
And I with my long nails will dig thee pig-nuts;
Show thee a jay’s nest, and instruct thee how
160 To snare the nimble marmoset; I’ll bring thee
To clustering filberts, and sometimes I’ll get thee
Young scamels from the rock. Wilt thou go with me?
Ste. I prithee now, lead the way, without any more talking. Trinculo, the king and all our company else being drowned, 165 we will inherit here: here; bear my bottle: fellow Trinculo, we’ll fill him by and by again.
Cal. sings drunkenly.] Farewell, master; farewell, farewell!
Trin. A howling monster; a drunken monster!
Cal. No more dams I’ll make for fish;
170 Nor fetch in firing
At requiring;
Nor scrape trencher, nor wash dish:
’Ban, ’Ban, Cacaliban
Has a new master:—get a new man.
II. 2. 175 Freedom, hey-day! hey-day, freedom! freedom, hey-day, freedom!
Ste. O brave monster! Lead the way. Exeunt.
ACT III.
III. 1 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
Are nobly undergone, and most poor matters
Point to rich ends. This my mean task
5 Would be as heavy to me as odious, but
The mistress which I serve quickens what’s dead,
And makes my labours pleasures: O, she is
Ten times more gentle than her father’s crabbed.
And he’s composed of harshness. I must remove
10 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 never like executor. I forget:
But these sweet thoughts do even refresh my labours,
Most busy lest, when I do it.
Enter Miranda; and Prospero at a distance, unseen.
Mir.
15 Alas, now, pray you,
Work not so hard: I would the lightning had
Burnt up those logs that you are enjoin’d to pile!
Pray, set it down, and rest you: when this burns,
’Twill weep for having wearied you. My father
20 Is hard at study; pray, now, rest yourself;
He’s safe for these three hours.
Fer.
O most dear mistress,
The sun will set before I shall discharge
What I must strive to do.
Mir.
If you’ll sit down,
I’ll bear your logs the while: pray, give me that;
I’ll carry it to the pile.
Fer.
III. 1. 25 No, precious creature;
I had rather crack my sinews, break my back,
Than you should such dishonour undergo,
While I sit lazy by.
Mir.
It would become me
As well as it does you: and I should do it
30 With much more ease; for my good will is to it,
And yours it is against.
Pros.
Poor worm, thou art infected!
This visitation shows it.
Mir.
You look wearily.
Fer. No, noble mistress; ’tis fresh morning with me
When you are by at night. I do beseech you,—
35 Chiefly that I might set it in my prayers,—
What is your name?
Mir.
Miranda.—O my father,
I have broke your hest to say so!
Fer.
Admired Miranda!
Indeed the top of admiration! worth
What’s dearest to the world! Full many a lady
40 I have eyed 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 liked several women; never any
With so full soul, but some defect in her
45 Did quarrel with the noblest grace she owed,
And put it to the foil: but you, O you,
So perfect and so peerless, are created
Of every creature’s best!
Mir.
I do not know
One of my sex; no woman’s face remember,
III. 1. 50 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 skilless of; but, by my modesty,
The jewel in my dower, I would not wish
55 Any companion in the world but you;
Nor can imagination form a shape,
Besides 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,
60 A prince, Miranda; I do think, a king;
I would, not so!—and would no more endure
This wooden slavery than to suffer
The flesh-fly blow my mouth. Hear my soul speak:
The very instant that I saw you, did
65 My heart fly to your service; there resides,
To make me slave to it; and for your sake
Am I this patient log-man.
Mir.
Do you love me?
Fer. O heaven, O earth, bear witness to this sound,
And crown what I profess with kind event,
70 If I speak true! if hollowly, invert
What best is boded me to mischief! I,
Beyond all limit of what else i’ the world,
Do love, prize, honour you.
Mir.
I am a fool
To weep at what I am glad of.
Pros.
Fair encounter
III. 1. 75 Of two most rare affections! Heavens rain grace
On that which breeds between ’em!
Fer.
Wherefore weep you?
Mir. At mine unworthiness, that dare not offer
What I desire to give; and much less take
What I shall die to want. But this is trifling;
80 And all the more it seeks to hide itself,
The bigger bulk it shows. Hence, bashful cunning!
And prompt me, plain and holy innocence!
I am your wife, if you will marry me;
If not, I’ll die your maid: to be your fellow
85 You may deny me; but I’ll be your servant,
Whether you will or no.
Fer.
My mistress, dearest;
And I thus humble ever.
Mir.
My husband, then?
Fer. Ay, with a heart as willing
As bondage e’er of freedom: here’s my hand.
90 Mir. And mine, with my heart in’t: and now farewell
Till half an hour hence.
Fer.
A thousand thousand!
Exeunt Fer. and Mir. severally.
Pros. So glad of this as they I cannot be,
Who are surprised withal; but my rejoicing
At nothing can be more. I’ll to my book;
95 For yet, ere supper-time, must I perform
Much business appertaining. Exit.
III. 2 Scene II. Another part of the island.
Enter Caliban, Stephano, and Trinculo.
Ste. Tell not me;—when the butt is out, we will drink water; not a drop before: therefore bear up, and board ’em. Servant-monster, drink to me.
Trin. Servant-monster! the folly of this island! They 5 say there’s but five upon this isle: we are three of them; if th’ other two be brained like us, the state totters.
Ste. Drink, servant-monster, when I bid thee: thy eyes are almost set in thy head.
Trin. Where should they be set else? he were a brave 10 monster indeed, if they were set in his tail.
Ste. My man-monster hath drowned his tongue in sack: for my part, the sea cannot drown me; I swam, ere I could recover the shore, five-and-thirty leagues off and on. By this light, thou shalt be my lieutenant, monster, or my 15 standard.
Trin. Your lieutenant, if you list; he’s no standard.
Ste. We’ll not run, Monsieur Monster.
Trin. Nor go neither; but you’ll lie, like dogs, and yet say nothing neither.
20 Ste. Moon-calf, speak once in thy life, if thou beest a good moon-calf.
Cal. How does thy honour? Let me lick thy shoe. I’ll not serve him, he is not valiant.
Trin. Thou liest, most ignorant monster: I am in case III. 2. 25 to justle a constable. Why, thou debauched fish, thou, was there ever man a coward that hath drunk so much sack as I to-day? Wilt thou tell a monstrous lie, being but half a fish and half a monster?
Cal. Lo, how he mocks me! wilt thou let him, my lord?
30 Trin. ‘Lord,’ quoth he! That a monster should be such a natural!
Cal. Lo, lo, again! bite him to death, I prithee.
Ste. Trinculo, keep a good tongue in your head: if you prove a mutineer,—the next tree! The poor monster’s my 35 subject, and he shall not suffer indignity.
Cal. I thank my noble lord. Wilt thou be pleased to hearken once again to the suit I made to thee?
Ste. Marry, will I: kneel and repeat it; I will stand, and so shall Trinculo.
Enter Ariel, invisible.
40 Cal. As I told thee before, I am subject to a tyrant, a sorcerer, that by his cunning hath cheated me of the island.
Ari. Thou liest.
Cal.
Thou liest, thou jesting monkey, thou:
I would my valiant master would destroy thee!
I do not lie.
45 Ste. Trinculo, if you trouble him any more in’s tale, by this hand, I will supplant some of your teeth.
Trin. Why, I said nothing.
Ste. Mum, then, and no more. Proceed.
Cal. I say, by sorcery he got this isle;
III. 2. 50 From me he got it. If thy greatness will
Revenge it on him,—for I know thou darest,
But this thing dare not,—
Ste. That’s most certain.
Cal. Thou shalt be lord of it, and I’ll serve thee.
55 Ste. How now shall this be compassed? Canst thou bring me to the party?
Cal. Yea, yea, my lord: I’ll yield him thee asleep,
Where thou mayst knock a nail into his head.
Ari. Thou liest; thou canst not.