60 Cal. What a pied ninny’s this! Thou scurvy patch!

I do beseech thy Greatness, give him blows,

And take his bottle from him: when that’s gone,

He shall drink nought but brine; for I’ll not show him

Where the quick freshes are.

Cal. Why, as I told thee, ’tis a custom with him

I’ th’ afternoon to sleep: there thou mayst brain him,

85 Having first seized his books; or with a log

Batter his skull, or paunch him with a stake,

Or cut his wezand with thy knife. Remember

First to possess his books; for without them

He’s but a sot, as I am, nor hath not

90 One spirit to command: they all do hate him

As rootedly as I. Burn but his books.

He has brave utensils,—for so he calls them,—

Which, when he has a house, he’ll deck withal.

And that most deeply to consider is

95 The beauty of his daughter; he himself

Calls her a nonpareil: I never saw a woman,

But only Sycorax my dam and she;

But she as far surpasseth Sycorax

As great’st does least.

III. 2. 100 Cal. Ay, lord; she will become thy bed, I warrant,

And bring thee forth brave brood.

Cal. Within this half hour will he be asleep:

Wilt thou destroy him then?

Cal. Thou makest me merry; I am full of pleasure:

Let us be jocund: will you troll the catch

You taught me but while-ere?

Flout ’em and scout ’em, and scout ’em and flout ’em;

Thought is free.

130 Cal. Be not afeard; the isle is full of noises,

Sounds and sweet airs, that give delight, and hurt not.

Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments

Will hum about mine ears; and sometime voices,

That, if I then had waked after long sleep,

135 Will make me sleep again: and then, in dreaming,

The clouds methought would open, and show riches

Ready to drop upon me; that, when I waked,

I cried to dream again.

Gon. By’r lakin, I can go no further, sir;

My old bones ache: here’s a maze trod, indeed,

Through forth-rights and meanders! By your patience,

I needs must rest me.

Alon.

Old lord, I cannot blame thee,

5 Who am myself attach’d with weariness,

To the dulling of my spirits: sit down, and rest.

Even here I will put off my hope, and keep it

No longer for my flatterer: he is drown’d

Whom thus we stray to find; and the sea mocks

10 Our frustrate search on land. Well, let him go.

Ant. [Aside to Seb.] I am right glad that he’s so out of hope.

Do not, for one repulse, forego the purpose

That you resolved to effect.

Seb. [Aside to Ant.]

The next advantage

Will we take throughly.

Ant. [Aside to Seb.]

Let it be to-night;

15 For, now they are oppress’d with travel, they

Will not, nor cannot, use such vigilance

As when they are fresh.

Seb. A living drollery. Now I will believe

That there are unicorns; that in Arabia

There is one tree, the phœnix’ throne; one phœnix

At this hour reigning there.

Ant.

I’ll believe both;

III. 3. 25 And what does else want credit, come to me,

And I’ll be sworn ’tis true: travellers ne’er did lie,

Though fools at home condemn ’em.

Gon.

If in Naples

I should report this now, would they believe me?

If I should say, I saw such islanders,—

30 For, certes, these are people of the island,—

Who, though they are of monstrous shape, yet, note,

Their manners are more gentle-kind than of

Our human generation you shall find

Many, nay, almost any.

Pros. [Aside]

Honest lord,

35 Thou hast said well; for some of you there present

Are worse than devils.

Alon.

I cannot too much muse

Such shapes, such gesture, and such sound, expressing—

Although they want the use of tongue—a kind

Of excellent dumb discourse.

Seb.

40 No matter, since

They have left their viands behind; for we have stomachs.—

Will’t please you taste of what is here?

Gon. Faith, sir, you need not fear. When we were boys,

Who would believe that there were mountaineers

45 Dew-lapp’d like bulls, whose throats had hanging at ’em

Wallets of flesh? or that there were such men

Whose heads stood in their breasts? which now we find

Each putter-out of five for one will bring us

Good warrant of.

Alon.

I will stand to, and feed,

III. 3. 50 Although my last: no matter, since I feel

The best is past. Brother, my lord the duke,

Stand to, and do as we.

Ari. You are three men of sin, whom Destiny,—

That hath to instrument this lower world

55 And what is in’t,—the never-surfeited sea

Hath caused to belch up you; and on this island,

Where man doth not inhabit,—you ’mongst men

Being most unfit to live. I have made you mad;

And even with such-like valour men hang and drown

Their proper selves. Alon., Seb. &c. draw their swords.

60 You fools! I and my fellows

Are ministers of Fate: the elements,

Of whom your swords are temper’d, may as well

Wound the loud winds, or with bemock’d-at stabs

Kill the still-closing waters, as diminish

65 One dowle that’s in my plume: my fellow-ministers

Are like invulnerable. If you could hurt,

Your swords are now too massy for your strengths,

And will not be uplifted. But remember,—

For that’s my business to you,—that you three

70 From Milan did supplant good Prospero;

Exposed unto the sea, which hath requit it,

Him and his innocent child: for which foul deed

The powers, delaying, not forgetting, have

Incensed the seas and shores, yea, all the creatures,

III. 3. 75 Against your peace. Thee of thy son, Alonso,

They have bereft; and do pronounce by me:

Lingering perdition—worse than any death

Can be at once—shall step by step attend

You and your ways; whose wraths to guard you from,—

80 Which here, in this most desolate isle, else falls

Upon your heads,—is nothing but heart-sorrow

And a clear life ensuing.

Pros. Bravely the figure of this harpy hast thou

Perform’d, my Ariel; a grace it had, devouring:

85 Of my instruction hast thou nothing bated

In what thou hadst to say: so, with good life

And observation strange, my meaner ministers

Their several kinds have done. My high charms work,

And these mine enemies are all knit up

90 In their distractions: they now are in my power;

And in these fits I leave them, while I visit

Young Ferdinand,—whom they suppose is drown’d,—

And his and mine loved darling. Exit above.

Gon. I’ the name of something holy, sir, why stand you

In this strange stare?

Alon.

95 O, it is monstrous, monstrous!

Methought the billows spoke, and told me of it;

The winds did sing it to me; and the thunder,

That deep and dreadful organ-pipe, pronounced

The name of Prosper: it did bass my trespass.

III. 3. 100 Therefore my son i’ th’ ooze is bedded; and

I’ll seek him deeper than e’er plummet sounded,

And with him there lie mudded. Exit.

Seb.

But one fiend at a time,

I’ll fight their legions o’er.

Ant.

I’ll be thy second.

Gon. All three of them are desperate: their great guilt,

105 Like poison given to work a great time after,

Now ’gins to bite the spirits. I do beseech you,

That are of suppler joints, follow them swiftly,

And hinder them from what this ecstasy

May now provoke them to.

Adr.

Follow, I pray you. Exeunt.

Pros. If I have too austerely punish’d you,

Your compensation makes amends; for I

Have given you here a third of mine own life,

Or that for which I live; who once again

5 I tender to thy hand: all thy vexations

Were but my trials of thy love, and thou

Hast strangely stood the test: here, afore Heaven,

I ratify this my rich gift. O Ferdinand,

Do not smile at me that I boast her off,

10 For thou shalt find she will outstrip all praise,

And make it halt behind her.

Fer.

I do believe it

Against an oracle.

Pros. Then, as my gift, and thine own acquisition

Worthily purchased, take my daughter: but

15 If thou dost break her virgin-knot before

All sanctimonious ceremonies may

With full and holy rite be minister’d,

No sweet aspersion shall the heavens let fall

To make this contract grow; but barren hate,

20 Sour-eyed disdain and discord shall bestrew

The union of your bed with weeds so loathly

That you shall hate it both: therefore take heed,

As Hymen’s lamps shall light you.

Fer.

As I hope

For quiet days, fair issue and long life,

IV. 1. 25 With such love as ’tis now, the murkiest den,

The most opportune place, the strong’st suggestion

Our worser Genius can, shall never melt

Mine honour into lust, to take away

The edge of that day’s celebration

30 When I shall think, or Phœbus’ steeds are founder’d,

Or Night kept chain’d below.

Pros.

Fairly spoke.

Sit, then, and talk with her; she is thine own.

What, Ariel! my industrious servant, Ariel!

35 Pros. Thou and thy meaner fellows your last service

Did worthily perform; and I must use you

In such another trick. Go bring the rabble,

O’er whom I give thee power, here to this place:

Incite them to quick motion; for I must

40 Bestow upon the eyes of this young couple

Some vanity of mine art: it is my promise,

And they expect it from me.

Ari. Before you can say, ‘come,’ and ‘go,’

45 And breathe twice, and cry, ‘so, so,’

Each one, tripping on his toe,

Will be here with mop and mow.

Do you love me, master? no?

Pros. Dearly, my delicate Ariel. Do not approach

Till thou dost hear me call.

Ari.

IV. 1. 50 Well, I conceive. Exit.

Pros. Look thou be true; do not give dalliance

Too much the rein: the strongest oaths are straw

To the fire i’ the blood: be more abstemious,

Or else, good night your vow!

Fer.

I warrant you, sir;

55 The white cold virgin snow upon my heart

Abates the ardour of my liver.

Pros.

Well.

Now come, my Ariel! bring a corollary,

Rather than want a spirit: appear, and pertly!

No tongue! all eyes! be silent. Soft music.

Fer. This is a most majestic vision, and

Harmonious charmingly. May I be bold

To think these spirits?

Pros.

120 Spirits, which by mine art

I have from their confines call’d to enact

My present fancies.

Fer.

Let me live here ever;

So rare a wonder’d father and a wife

Makes this place Paradise.

Pros.

Sweet, now, silence!

IV. 1. 125 Juno and Ceres whisper seriously;

There’s something else to do: hush, and be mute,

Or else our spell is marr’d.

Pros. [Aside] I had forgot that foul conspiracy

140 Of the beast Caliban and his confederates

Against my life: the minute of their plot

Is almost come. [To the Spirits.] Well done! avoid; no more!

Fer. This is strange: your father’s in some passion

That works him strongly.

Mir.

Never till this day

145 Saw I him touch’d with anger so distemper’d.

Pros. You do look, my son, in a moved sort,

As if you were dismay’d: be cheerful, sir.

Our revels now are ended. These our actors,

As I foretold you, were all spirits, and

IV. 1. 150 Are melted into air, into thin air:

And, like the baseless fabric of this vision,

The cloud-capp’d towers, the gorgeous palaces,

The solemn temples, the great globe itself,

Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve,

155 And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,

Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff

As dreams are made on; and our little life

Is rounded with a sleep. Sir, I am vex’d;

Bear with my weakness; my old brain is troubled:

160 Be not disturb’d with my infirmity:

If you be pleased, retire into my cell,

And there repose: a turn or two I’ll walk,

To still my beating mind.

Pros.

Spirit,

We must prepare to meet with Caliban.

Ari. Ay, my commander: when I presented Ceres,

I thought to have told thee of it; but I fear’d

Lest I might anger thee.

Ari. I told you, sir, they were red-hot with drinking;

So full of valour that they smote the air

For breathing in their faces; beat the ground

For kissing of their feet; yet always bending

IV. 1. 175 Towards their project. Then I beat my tabor;

At which, like unback’d colts, they prick’d their ears,

Advanced their eyelids, lifted up their noses

As they smelt music: so I charm’d their ears,

That, calf-like, they my lowing follow’d through

180 Tooth’d briers, sharp furzes, pricking goss, and thorns,

Which enter’d their frail shins: at last I left them

I’ the filthy-mantled pool beyond your cell,

There dancing up to the chins, that the foul lake

O’erstunk their feet.

Pros.

This was well done, my bird.

185 Thy shape invisible retain thou still:

The trumpery in my house, go bring it hither,

For stale to catch these thieves.

Ari.

I go, I go. Exit.

Pros. A devil, a born devil, on whose nature

Nurture can never stick; on whom my pains,

190 Humanely taken, all, all lost, quite lost;

And as with age his body uglier grows,

So his mind cankers. I will plague them all,

Even to roaring.

Cal. Pray you, tread softly, that the blind mole may not

195 Hear a foot fall: we now are near his cell.

Cal. Good my lord, give me thy favour still.

Be patient, for the prize I’ll bring thee to

205 Shall hoodwink this mischance: therefore speak softly.

All’s hush’d as midnight yet.