ACT II

Come unto these yellow sands,And then take hands:Courtsied when you have and kiss'dThe wild waves whist,Foot it featly here and there;And, sweet sprites, the burthen bear.Hark, hark!Burthen[dispersedly]. Bow-wow.Ari.The watch-dogs bark:Burthen[dispersedly]. Bow-wow.Ari.Hark, hark! I hearThe strain of strutting chanticleerCry, Cock-a-diddle-dow.Fer.Where should this music be? i' the air or the earth?It sounds no more: and, sure, it waits uponSome god o' the 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 passionWith its sweet air: thence I have follow'd it,Or it hath drawn me rather. But 'tis gone.No, it begins again.Arielsings.Full fathom five thy father lies;Of his bones are coral made;Those are pearls that were his eyes:Nothing of him that doth fadeBut doth suffer a sea-changeInto something rich and strange.Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell:Burthen.Ding-dong.Ari.Hark! now I hear them,—Ding-dong, bell.Fer.The ditty does remember my drown'd father.This is no mortal business, nor no soundThat the earth owes. I hear it now above me.Pros.The fringed curtains of thine eye advanceAnd say what thou seest yond.Mir.What is't? a spirit?Lord, how it looks about! Believe me, sir,It carries a brave form. But 'tis a spirit.Pros.No, wench; it eats and sleeps and hath such sensesAs we have, such. This gallant which thou seestWas in the wreck; and, but he's something stain'dWith grief that's beauty's canker, thou mightst call himA goodly person: he hath lost his fellowsAnd strays about to find 'em.Mir.I might call himA thing divine, for nothing naturalI ever saw so noble.Caliban:'Wouldst give meWater with berries in't' (page 31).Pros.[aside.]It goes on, I see,As my soul prompts it. Spirit, fine spirit! I'll free theeWithin two days for this.Fer.Most sure, the goddessOn whom these airs attend! Vouchsafe my prayerMay know if you remain upon this island;And that you will some good instruction giveHow I may bear me here: my prime request,Which I do last pronounce, is, O you wonder!If you be maid or no?Mir.No wonder, sir;But certainly a maid.Fer.My language! heavens!I am the best of them that speak this speech,Were I but where 'tis spoken.Pros.How? the best?What wert thou, if the King of Naples heard thee?Fer.A single thing, as I am now, that wondersTo hear thee speak of Naples. He does hear me;And that he does I weep: myself am Naples,Who with mine eyes, never since at ebb, beheldThe king my father wreck'd.Mir.Alack, for mercy!Fer.Yes, faith, and all his lords; the Duke of MilanAnd his brave son being twain.Pros.[aside.]The Duke of MilanAnd his more braver daughter could control thee,If now 'twere fit to do't. At the first sightThey have changed eyes. Delicate Ariel,I'll set thee free for this. [ToFer.] A word, good sir;I fear you have done yourself some wrong: a word.Mir.Why speaks my father so ungently? ThisIs the third man that e'er I saw; the firstThat e'er I sighed for: pity move my fatherTo be inclined my way!Fer.O, if a virgin,And your affection not gone forth, I'll make youThe queen of Naples.Pros.Soft, sir! one word more.[Aside.] They are both in either's powers; but this swift businessI must uneasy make, lest too light winningMake the prize light. [ToFer.] One word more; I charge theeThat thou attend me: thou dost here usurpThe name thou owest not; and hast put thyselfUpon this island as a spy, to win itFrom me, the lord on't.Fer.No, as I am a man.Mir.There's nothing ill can dwell in such a temple:If the ill spirit have so fair a house,Good things will strive to dwell with't.Pros.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 beThe fresh-brook muscles, wither'd roots and husksWherein the acorn cradled. Follow.Fer.No;I will resist such entertainment tillMine enemy has more power.[Draws, and is charmed from moving.Mir.O dear father,Make not too rash a trial of him, forHe's gentle and not fearful.Pros.What? I say,My foot my tutor? Put thy sword up, traitor;Who makest a show but darest not strike, thy conscienceIs so possess'd with guilt: come from thy ward,For I can here disarm thee with this stickAnd make thy weapon drop.Mir.Beseech you, father.Pros.Hence! hang not on my garments.Mir.Sir, have pity;I'll be his surety.Pros.Silence! one word moreShall make me chide thee, if not hate thee. What!An advocate for an impostor! hush!Thou think'st there is 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.Mir.My affectionsAre then most humble; I have no ambitionTo see a goodlier man.Pros.Come on; obey:Thy nerves are in their infancy againAnd 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 dayBehold this maid: all corners else o' the earthLet liberty make use of; space enoughHave I in such a prison.Pros.[aside.]It works. [ToFer.] Come on.Thou hast done well, fine Ariel! [ToFer.] Follow me.[ToAriel.] Hark what thou else shalt do me.Mir.Be of comfort;My father's of a better nature, sir,Than he appears by speech: this is unwontedWhich now came from him.Pros.Thou shalt be as freeAs mountain winds: but then exactly doAll points of my command.Ari.To the syllable.Pros.Come, follow. Speak not for him.[Exeunt.ACT IIactiiSCENE IAnother part of the island.EnterAlonso,Sebastian,Antonio,Gonzalo,Adrian,Francisco,and others.Gon.Beseech you, sir, be merry; you have cause,So have we all, of joy; for our escapeIs much beyond our loss. Our hint of woeIs common; every day some sailor's wife,The masters of some merchant, and the merchant,Have just our theme of woe; but for the miracle,I mean our preservation, few in millionsCan speak like us: then wisely, good sir, weighOur sorrow with our comfort.Alon.Prithee, peace.Seb.He receives comfort like cold porridge.Ant.The visitor will not give him o'er so.Seb.Look, he's winding up the watch of his wit: by and by it will strike.Gon.Sir,—Seb.One: tell.Gon.When every grief is entertain'd that's offer'd,Comes to the entertainer—Seb.A dollar.Gon.Dolour comes to him, indeed: you have spoken truer than you purposed.Seb.You have taken it wiselier that I meant you should.Gon.Therefore, my lord,—Ant.Fie, what a spendthrift is he of his tongue!Alon.I prithee, spare.Gon.Well, I have done: but yet,—Seb.He will be talking.Ant.Which, of he or Adrian, for a good wager, first begins to crow?Seb.The old cock.Ant.The cockerel.Seb.Done. The wager?Ant.A laughter.Seb.A match!Adr.Though this island seem to be desert,—Seb.Ha, ha, ha!Ant.So, you're paid.Adr.Uninhabitable and almost inaccessible,—Seb.Yet,—Adr.Yet,—Ant.He could not miss't.Adr.It must needs be of subtle, tender and delicate temperance.Ant.Temperance was a delicate wench.Seb.Ay, and a subtle: as he most learnedly delivered.Adr.The air breathes upon us here most sweetly.Seb.As if it had lungs and rotten ones.Ant.Or as 'twere perfumed by a fen.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 vouched 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 stained 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 plague 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.Seb.He hath raised 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 fished for.Gon.When I wore it at your daughter's marriage?Alon.You cram these words into mine ears againstThe stomach of my sense. Would I had neverMarried my daughter there! for, coming thence,My son is lost and, in my rate, she too,Who is so far from Italy removedI ne'er again shall see her. O thou mine heirOf Naples and of Milan, what strange fishHath made his meal on thee?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 breastedThe surge most swoln that met him: his bold head'Bove the contentious waves he kept, and oar'dHimself with his good arms in lusty strokeTo the shore, that o'er his wave-worn basis bow'd,As stooping to relieve him: I not doubtHe came alive to land.Alon.No, no, he's gone.Seb.Sir, you may thank yourself for this great loss,That would not bless our Europe with your daughter,But 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.Prithee, peace.Seb.You were kneel'd to and importuned otherwiseBy all of us, and the fair soul herselfWeigh'd between loathness and obedience, atWhich end o' the beam should bow. We have lost your son,I fear, for ever: Milan and Naples haveMo widows in them of this business' makingThan we bring men to comfort them:The fault's your own.Alon.So is the dear'st o' the loss.Gon.My lord Sebastian,The truth you speak doth lack some gentlenessAnd time to speak it in: you rub the sore,When you should bring the plaster.Seb.Very well.Ant.And most chirurgeonly.Gon.It is foul weather in us all, good sir,When you are cloudy.Seb.Foul weather?Ant.Very foul.Gon.Had I plantation of this isle, my lord,—Ant.He'ld sow't with nettle-seed.Antonio:'Here lies your brother,No better than the earth he lies upon' (page 61).Seb.Or docks, or mallowsGon.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 contrariesExecute all things: for no kind of trafficWould 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 produceWithout 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 foison, all abundance,To feed my innocent people.Seb.No marrying 'mong his subjects?Ant.None, man; all idle.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.Prithee, 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 laughed 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.EnterAriel,invisible, playing solemn music.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 exceptAlonso,Sebastian,andAntonio.Alon.What, all so soon asleep! I wish mine eyesWould, with themselves, shut up my thoughts: I findThey are inclined to do so.Seb.Please you, sir,Do not omit the heavy offer of it:It seldom visits sorrow; when it doth,It is a comforter.Ant.We too, my lord,Will guard your person while you take your rest,And watch your safety.Alon.Thank you. Wondrous heavy.[Alonsosleeps. ExitAriel.Seb.What a strange drowsiness possesses them!Ant.It is the quality o' the climate.Seb.WhyDoth it not then our eyelids sink? I find notMyself disposed to sleep.Ant.Nor I; my spirits are nimble,They fell together all, as by consent;They dropp'd, as by a thunder-stroke. What might,Worthy Sebastian?—O, what might?—No more:—And yet methinks I see it in thy face,What thou shouldst be: the occasion speaks thee, andMy strong imagination sees a crownDropping upon thy head.Seb.What, art thou waking?Ant.Do you not hear me speak?Seb.I do; and surelyIt is a sleepy language and thou speak'stOut of thy sleep. What is it thou didst say?This is a strange repose, to be asleepWith eyes wide open; standing, speaking, moving,And yet so fast asleep.Ant.Noble Sebastian,Thou let'st thy fortune sleep—die, rather; wink'stWhiles thou art waking.Seb.Thou dost snore distinctly;There's meaning in thy snores.Ant.I am more serious than my custom: youMust be so too, if heed me; which to doTrebles thee o'er.Seb.Well, I am standing water.Ant.I'll teach you how to flow.Seb.Do so: to ebbHereditary sloth instructs me.Ant.O,If you but knew how you the purpose cherishWhiles thus you mock it! how, in stripping it,You more invest it! Ebbing men, indeed,Most often do so near the bottom runBy their own fear or sloth.Seb.Prithee, say on:The setting of thine eye and cheek proclaimA matter from thee, and a birth indeedWhich throes thee much to yield.Ant.Thus, sir:Although this lord of weak remembrance, this,Who shall be of as little memoryWhen he is earth'd, hath here almost persuaded—For he's a spirit of persuasion, onlyProfesses to persuade—the king his son's alive,'Tis as impossible that he's undrown'dAs he that sleeps here swims.Seb.I have no hopeThat he's undrown'd.Ant.O, out of that 'no hope'What great hope have you! no hope that way isAnother way so high a hope that evenAmbition cannot pierce a wink beyond,But doubt discovery there. Will you grant with meThat Ferdinand is drown'd?Seb.He's gone.Ant.Then, tell me,Who's the next heir of Naples?Seb.Claribel.Ant.She that is queen of Tunis; she that dwellsTen leagues beyond man's life; she that from NaplesCan have no note, unless the sun were post—The man i' the moon's too slow—till new-born chinsBe rough and razorable; she that from whomWe all were sea-swallow'd, though some cast again,And by that destiny to perform an actWhereof what's past is prologue, what to comeIn 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 regionsThere is some space.Ant.A space whose every cubitSeems to cry out, 'How shall that ClaribelMeasure us back to Naples? Keep in Tunis,And let Sebastian wake.' Say, this were deathThat now hath seized them; why, they were no worseThan now they are. There be that can rule NaplesAs well as he that sleeps; lords that can prateAs amply and unnecessarilyAs this Gonzalo; I myself could makeA chough of as deep chat. O, that you boreThe mind that I do! what a sleep were thisFor your advancement! Do you understand me?Seb.Methinks I do.Ant.And how does your contentTender your own good fortune?Seb.I rememberYou did supplant your brother Prospero.Ant.True:And look how well my garments sit upon me;Much feater than before: my brother's servantsWere 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 notThis deity in my bosom: twenty consciences,That stand 'twixt me and Milan, candied be theyAnd 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 putThis ancient morsel, this Sir Prudence, whoShould 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 thatWe 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 strokeShall free thee from the tribute which thou payest;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.[They talk apart.Re-enterAriel,invisible.Ari.My master through his art foresees the dangerThat you, his friend, are in; and sends me forth—For else his project dies—to keep them living.[Sings inGonzalo'sear.While you here do snoring lie,Open-eyed conspiracyHis time doth take.If of life you keep a care,Shake off slumber, and beware:Awake, awake!Ant.Then let us both be sudden.Gon.Now, good angelsPreserve the king![They wake.Alon.Why, how now? ho, awake! Why are you drawn?Wherefore this ghastly looking?Gon.What's the matter?Seb.Whiles we stood here securing your repose,Even now, we heard a hollow burst of bellowingLike bulls, or rather lions: did't not wake you?It struck mine ear most terribly.Alon.I heard nothing.Ant.O, 'twas a din to fright a monster's ear,To make an earthquake! sure, it was the roarOf 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: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 searchFor my poor son.Gon.Heavens keep him from these beasts!For he is, sure, i' the island.Alon.Lead away.Ari.Prospero my lord shall know what I have done:So, king, go safely on to seek thy son.[Exeunt.Stephano: 'Come, swear to that: kiss the book' (page 72).SCENE IIAnother part of the island.EnterCalibanwith a burden of wood. A noise of thunder heard.Cal.All the infections that the sun sucks upFrom bogs, fens, flats, on Prosper fall, and make himBy inch-meal a disease! His spirits hear me,And yet I needs must curse. But they'll nor pinch,Fright me with urchin-shows, pitch me i' the mire,Nor lead me, like a firebrand, in the darkOut of my way, unless he bid 'em; butFor every trifle are they set upon me;Sometime like apes that mow and chatter at meAnd after bite me; then like hedgehogs, whichLie tumbling in my barefoot way and mountTheir pricks at my footfall; sometime am IAll wound with adders, who with cloven tonguesDo hiss me into madness.EnterTrinculo.

Come unto these yellow sands,

And then take hands:

Courtsied when you have and kiss'd

The wild waves whist,

Foot it featly here and there;

And, sweet sprites, the burthen bear.

Hark, hark!

Burthen[dispersedly]. Bow-wow.

Ari.The watch-dogs bark:

Burthen[dispersedly]. Bow-wow.

Ari.Hark, hark! I hear

The strain of strutting chanticleer

Cry, Cock-a-diddle-dow.

Fer.Where should this music be? i' the air or the earth?It sounds no more: and, sure, it waits uponSome god o' the 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 passionWith its sweet air: thence I have follow'd it,Or it hath drawn me rather. But 'tis gone.No, it begins again.

Fer.Where should this music be? i' the air or the earth?

It sounds no more: and, sure, it waits upon

Some god o' the 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.

Arielsings.

Full fathom five thy father lies;Of his bones are coral made;Those are pearls that were his eyes:Nothing of him that doth fadeBut doth suffer a sea-changeInto something rich and strange.Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell:Burthen.Ding-dong.

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:

Burthen.Ding-dong.

Ari.Hark! now I hear them,—Ding-dong, bell.Fer.The ditty does remember my drown'd father.This is no mortal business, nor no soundThat the earth owes. I hear it now above me.Pros.The fringed curtains of thine eye advanceAnd say what thou seest yond.Mir.What is't? a spirit?Lord, how it looks about! Believe me, sir,It carries a brave form. But 'tis a spirit.Pros.No, wench; it eats and sleeps and hath such sensesAs we have, such. This gallant which thou seestWas in the wreck; and, but he's something stain'dWith grief that's beauty's canker, thou mightst call himA goodly person: he hath lost his fellowsAnd strays about to find 'em.Mir.I might call himA thing divine, for nothing naturalI ever saw so noble.

Ari.Hark! now I hear them,—Ding-dong, bell.

Fer.The ditty does remember my drown'd father.This is no mortal business, nor no soundThat the earth owes. I hear it now above me.

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.

Pros.The fringed curtains of thine eye advanceAnd say what thou seest yond.

Pros.The fringed curtains of thine eye advance

And say what thou seest yond.

Mir.What is't? a spirit?Lord, how it looks about! Believe me, sir,It carries a brave form. But 'tis a spirit.

Mir.What is't? a spirit?

Lord, how it looks about! Believe me, sir,

It carries a brave form. But 'tis a spirit.

Pros.No, wench; it eats and sleeps and hath such sensesAs we have, such. This gallant which thou seestWas in the wreck; and, but he's something stain'dWith grief that's beauty's canker, thou mightst call himA goodly person: he hath lost his fellowsAnd strays about to find 'em.

Pros.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

With grief that's beauty's canker, thou mightst call him

A goodly person: he hath lost his fellows

And strays about to find 'em.

Mir.I might call himA thing divine, for nothing naturalI ever saw so noble.

Mir.I might call him

A thing divine, for nothing natural

I ever saw so noble.

Caliban:'Wouldst give meWater with berries in't' (page 31).

Pros.[aside.]It goes on, I see,As my soul prompts it. Spirit, fine spirit! I'll free theeWithin two days for this.Fer.Most sure, the goddessOn whom these airs attend! Vouchsafe my prayerMay know if you remain upon this island;And that you will some good instruction giveHow I may bear me here: my prime request,Which I do last pronounce, is, O you wonder!If you be maid or no?Mir.No wonder, sir;But certainly a maid.Fer.My language! heavens!I am the best of them that speak this speech,Were I but where 'tis spoken.Pros.How? the best?What wert thou, if the King of Naples heard thee?Fer.A single thing, as I am now, that wondersTo hear thee speak of Naples. He does hear me;And that he does I weep: myself am Naples,Who with mine eyes, never since at ebb, beheldThe king my father wreck'd.Mir.Alack, for mercy!Fer.Yes, faith, and all his lords; the Duke of MilanAnd his brave son being twain.Pros.[aside.]The Duke of MilanAnd his more braver daughter could control thee,If now 'twere fit to do't. At the first sightThey have changed eyes. Delicate Ariel,I'll set thee free for this. [ToFer.] A word, good sir;I fear you have done yourself some wrong: a word.Mir.Why speaks my father so ungently? ThisIs the third man that e'er I saw; the firstThat e'er I sighed for: pity move my fatherTo be inclined my way!Fer.O, if a virgin,And your affection not gone forth, I'll make youThe queen of Naples.Pros.Soft, sir! one word more.[Aside.] They are both in either's powers; but this swift businessI must uneasy make, lest too light winningMake the prize light. [ToFer.] One word more; I charge theeThat thou attend me: thou dost here usurpThe name thou owest not; and hast put thyselfUpon this island as a spy, to win itFrom me, the lord on't.Fer.No, as I am a man.Mir.There's nothing ill can dwell in such a temple:If the ill spirit have so fair a house,Good things will strive to dwell with't.Pros.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 beThe fresh-brook muscles, wither'd roots and husksWherein the acorn cradled. Follow.Fer.No;I will resist such entertainment tillMine enemy has more power.

Pros.[aside.]It goes on, I see,As my soul prompts it. Spirit, fine spirit! I'll free theeWithin two days for this.

Pros.[aside.]It goes on, I see,

As my soul prompts it. Spirit, fine spirit! I'll free thee

Within two days for this.

Fer.Most sure, the goddessOn whom these airs attend! Vouchsafe my prayerMay know if you remain upon this island;And that you will some good instruction giveHow I may bear me here: my prime request,Which I do last pronounce, is, O you wonder!If you be maid or no?

Fer.Most sure, the goddess

On whom these airs attend! Vouchsafe my prayer

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?

Mir.No wonder, sir;But certainly a maid.

Mir.No wonder, sir;

But certainly a maid.

Fer.My language! heavens!I am the best of them that speak this speech,Were I but where 'tis spoken.

Fer.My language! heavens!

I am the best of them that speak this speech,

Were I but where 'tis spoken.

Pros.How? the best?What wert thou, if the King of Naples heard thee?

Pros.How? the best?

What wert thou, if the King of Naples heard thee?

Fer.A single thing, as I am now, that wondersTo hear thee speak of Naples. He does hear me;And that he does I weep: myself am Naples,Who with mine eyes, never since at ebb, beheldThe king my father wreck'd.

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, never since at ebb, beheld

The king my father wreck'd.

Mir.Alack, for mercy!

Fer.Yes, faith, and all his lords; the Duke of MilanAnd his brave son being twain.

Fer.Yes, faith, and all his lords; the Duke of Milan

And his brave son being twain.

Pros.[aside.]The Duke of MilanAnd his more braver daughter could control thee,If now 'twere fit to do't. At the first sightThey have changed eyes. Delicate Ariel,I'll set thee free for this. [ToFer.] A word, good sir;I fear you have done yourself some wrong: a word.

Pros.[aside.]The Duke of Milan

And his more braver daughter could control thee,

If now 'twere fit to do't. At the first sight

They have changed eyes. Delicate Ariel,

I'll set thee free for this. [ToFer.] A word, good sir;

I fear you have done yourself some wrong: a word.

Mir.Why speaks my father so ungently? ThisIs the third man that e'er I saw; the firstThat e'er I sighed for: pity move my fatherTo be inclined my way!

Mir.Why speaks my father so ungently? This

Is the third man that e'er I saw; the first

That e'er I sighed for: pity move my father

To be inclined my way!

Fer.O, if a virgin,And your affection not gone forth, I'll make youThe queen of Naples.

Fer.O, if a virgin,

And your affection not gone forth, I'll make you

The queen of Naples.

Pros.Soft, sir! one word more.[Aside.] They are both in either's powers; but this swift businessI must uneasy make, lest too light winningMake the prize light. [ToFer.] One word more; I charge theeThat thou attend me: thou dost here usurpThe name thou owest not; and hast put thyselfUpon this island as a spy, to win itFrom me, the lord on't.

Pros.Soft, sir! one word more.

[Aside.] They are both in either's powers; but this swift business

I must uneasy make, lest too light winning

Make the prize light. [ToFer.] One word more; I charge thee

That thou attend me: thou dost here usurp

The name thou owest not; and hast put thyself

Upon this island as a spy, to win it

From me, the lord on't.

Fer.No, as I am a man.

Mir.There's nothing ill can dwell in such a temple:If the ill spirit have so fair a house,Good things will strive to dwell with't.

Mir.There's nothing ill can dwell in such a temple:

If the ill spirit have so fair a house,

Good things will strive to dwell with't.

Pros.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 beThe fresh-brook muscles, wither'd roots and husksWherein the acorn cradled. Follow.

Pros.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 husks

Wherein the acorn cradled. Follow.

Fer.No;I will resist such entertainment tillMine enemy has more power.

Fer.No;

I will resist such entertainment till

Mine enemy has more power.

[Draws, and is charmed from moving.

Mir.O dear father,Make not too rash a trial of him, forHe's gentle and not fearful.Pros.What? I say,My foot my tutor? Put thy sword up, traitor;Who makest a show but darest not strike, thy conscienceIs so possess'd with guilt: come from thy ward,For I can here disarm thee with this stickAnd make thy weapon drop.Mir.Beseech you, father.Pros.Hence! hang not on my garments.Mir.Sir, have pity;I'll be his surety.Pros.Silence! one word moreShall make me chide thee, if not hate thee. What!An advocate for an impostor! hush!Thou think'st there is 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.Mir.My affectionsAre then most humble; I have no ambitionTo see a goodlier man.Pros.Come on; obey:Thy nerves are in their infancy againAnd 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 dayBehold this maid: all corners else o' the earthLet liberty make use of; space enoughHave I in such a prison.Pros.[aside.]It works. [ToFer.] Come on.Thou hast done well, fine Ariel! [ToFer.] Follow me.[ToAriel.] Hark what thou else shalt do me.Mir.Be of comfort;My father's of a better nature, sir,Than he appears by speech: this is unwontedWhich now came from him.Pros.Thou shalt be as freeAs mountain winds: but then exactly doAll points of my command.Ari.To the syllable.Pros.Come, follow. Speak not for him.

Mir.O dear father,Make not too rash a trial of him, forHe's gentle and not fearful.

Mir.O dear father,

Make not too rash a trial of him, for

He's gentle and not fearful.

Pros.What? I say,My foot my tutor? Put thy sword up, traitor;Who makest a show but darest not strike, thy conscienceIs so possess'd with guilt: come from thy ward,For I can here disarm thee with this stickAnd make thy weapon drop.

Pros.What? I say,

My foot my tutor? Put thy sword up, traitor;

Who makest a show but darest not strike, thy conscience

Is so possess'd with guilt: come from thy ward,

For I can here disarm thee with this stick

And make thy weapon drop.

Mir.Beseech you, father.

Pros.Hence! hang not on my garments.

Mir.Sir, have pity;I'll be his surety.

Mir.Sir, have pity;

I'll be his surety.

Pros.Silence! one word moreShall make me chide thee, if not hate thee. What!An advocate for an impostor! hush!Thou think'st there is 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.

Pros.Silence! one word more

Shall make me chide thee, if not hate thee. What!

An advocate for an impostor! hush!

Thou think'st there is 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.

Mir.My affectionsAre then most humble; I have no ambitionTo see a goodlier man.

Mir.My affections

Are then most humble; I have no ambition

To see a goodlier man.

Pros.Come on; obey:Thy nerves are in their infancy againAnd have no vigour in them.

Pros.Come on; obey:

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 dayBehold this maid: all corners else o' the earthLet liberty make use of; space enoughHave I in such a prison.

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' the earth

Let liberty make use of; space enough

Have I in such a prison.

Pros.[aside.]It works. [ToFer.] Come on.Thou hast done well, fine Ariel! [ToFer.] Follow me.[ToAriel.] Hark what thou else shalt do me.

Pros.[aside.]It works. [ToFer.] Come on.

Thou hast done well, fine Ariel! [ToFer.] Follow me.

[ToAriel.] Hark what thou else shalt do me.

Mir.Be of comfort;My father's of a better nature, sir,Than he appears by speech: this is unwontedWhich now came from him.

Mir.Be of comfort;

My father's of a better nature, sir,

Than he appears by speech: this is unwonted

Which now came from him.

Pros.Thou shalt be as freeAs mountain winds: but then exactly doAll points of my command.

Pros.Thou shalt be as free

As mountain winds: but then exactly do

All points of my command.

Ari.To the syllable.

Pros.Come, follow. Speak not for him.

[Exeunt.

actii

Another part of the island.

EnterAlonso,Sebastian,Antonio,Gonzalo,Adrian,Francisco,and others.

Gon.Beseech you, sir, be merry; you have cause,So have we all, of joy; for our escapeIs much beyond our loss. Our hint of woeIs common; every day some sailor's wife,The masters of some merchant, and the merchant,Have just our theme of woe; but for the miracle,I mean our preservation, few in millionsCan speak like us: then wisely, good sir, weighOur sorrow with our comfort.Alon.Prithee, peace.

Gon.Beseech you, sir, be merry; you have cause,

So have we all, of joy; for our escape

Is much beyond our loss. Our hint of woe

Is common; every day some sailor's wife,

The masters of some merchant, and the 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.

Alon.Prithee, peace.

Seb.He receives comfort like cold porridge.

Ant.The visitor will not give him o'er so.

Seb.Look, he's winding up the watch of his wit: by and by it will strike.

Gon.Sir,—

Seb.One: tell.

Gon.When every grief is entertain'd that's offer'd,Comes to the entertainer—

Gon.When every grief is entertain'd that's offer'd,

Comes to the entertainer—

Seb.A dollar.

Gon.Dolour comes to him, indeed: you have spoken truer than you purposed.

Seb.You have taken it wiselier that I meant you should.

Gon.Therefore, my lord,—

Ant.Fie, what a spendthrift is he of his tongue!

Alon.I prithee, spare.

Gon.Well, I have done: but yet,—

Seb.He will be talking.

Ant.Which, of he or Adrian, for a good wager, first begins to crow?

Seb.The old cock.

Ant.The cockerel.

Seb.Done. The wager?

Ant.A laughter.

Seb.A match!

Adr.Though this island seem to be desert,—

Seb.Ha, ha, ha!

Ant.So, you're paid.

Adr.Uninhabitable and almost inaccessible,—

Seb.Yet,—

Adr.Yet,—

Ant.He could not miss't.

Adr.It must needs be of subtle, tender and delicate temperance.

Ant.Temperance was a delicate wench.

Seb.Ay, and a subtle: as he most learnedly delivered.

Adr.The air breathes upon us here most sweetly.

Seb.As if it had lungs and rotten ones.

Ant.Or as 'twere perfumed by a fen.

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 vouched 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 stained 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 plague 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.

Seb.He hath raised 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 fished for.

Gon.When I wore it at your daughter's marriage?

Alon.You cram these words into mine ears againstThe stomach of my sense. Would I had neverMarried my daughter there! for, coming thence,My son is lost and, in my rate, she too,Who is so far from Italy removedI ne'er again shall see her. O thou mine heirOf Naples and of Milan, what strange fishHath made his meal on thee?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 breastedThe surge most swoln that met him: his bold head'Bove the contentious waves he kept, and oar'dHimself with his good arms in lusty strokeTo the shore, that o'er his wave-worn basis bow'd,As stooping to relieve him: I not doubtHe came alive to land.Alon.No, no, he's gone.Seb.Sir, you may thank yourself for this great loss,That would not bless our Europe with your daughter,But 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.Prithee, peace.Seb.You were kneel'd to and importuned otherwiseBy all of us, and the fair soul herselfWeigh'd between loathness and obedience, atWhich end o' the beam should bow. We have lost your son,I fear, for ever: Milan and Naples haveMo widows in them of this business' makingThan we bring men to comfort them:The fault's your own.Alon.So is the dear'st o' the loss.Gon.My lord Sebastian,The truth you speak doth lack some gentlenessAnd time to speak it in: you rub the sore,When you should bring the plaster.Seb.Very well.Ant.And most chirurgeonly.Gon.It is foul weather in us all, good sir,When you are cloudy.

Alon.You cram these words into mine ears against

The stomach of my sense. Would I had never

Married my daughter there! for, coming thence,

My son is lost and, in my rate, she too,

Who is so far from Italy removed

I ne'er again shall see her. O thou mine heir

Of Naples and of Milan, what strange fish

Hath made his meal on thee?

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 breastedThe surge most swoln that met him: his bold head'Bove the contentious waves he kept, and oar'dHimself with his good arms in lusty strokeTo the shore, that o'er his wave-worn basis bow'd,As stooping to relieve him: I not doubtHe came alive to land.

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

The surge most swoln that met him: his bold head

'Bove the contentious waves he kept, and oar'd

Himself with his good arms in lusty stroke

To the shore, that o'er his wave-worn basis bow'd,

As stooping to relieve him: I not doubt

He came alive to land.

Alon.No, no, he's gone.

Seb.Sir, you may thank yourself for this great loss,That would not bless our Europe with your daughter,But 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.

Seb.Sir, you may thank yourself for this great loss,

That would not bless our Europe with your daughter,

But 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.Prithee, peace.

Seb.You were kneel'd to and importuned otherwiseBy all of us, and the fair soul herselfWeigh'd between loathness and obedience, atWhich end o' the beam should bow. We have lost your son,I fear, for ever: Milan and Naples haveMo widows in them of this business' makingThan we bring men to comfort them:The fault's your own.

Seb.You were kneel'd to and importuned otherwise

By all of us, and the fair soul herself

Weigh'd between loathness and obedience, at

Which end o' the beam should bow. We have lost your son,

I fear, for ever: Milan and Naples have

Mo widows in them of this business' making

Than we bring men to comfort them:

The fault's your own.

Alon.So is the dear'st o' the loss.

Gon.My lord Sebastian,The truth you speak doth lack some gentlenessAnd time to speak it in: you rub the sore,When you should bring the plaster.

Gon.My lord Sebastian,

The truth you speak doth lack some gentleness

And time to speak it in: you rub the sore,

When you should bring the plaster.

Seb.Very well.

Ant.And most chirurgeonly.

Gon.It is foul weather in us all, good sir,When you are cloudy.

Gon.It is foul weather in us all, good sir,

When you are cloudy.

Seb.Foul weather?

Ant.Very foul.

Gon.Had I plantation of this isle, my lord,—

Ant.He'ld sow't with nettle-seed.

Antonio:'Here lies your brother,No better than the earth he lies upon' (page 61).

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 contrariesExecute all things: for no kind of trafficWould 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 produceWithout 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 foison, all abundance,To feed my innocent people.Seb.No marrying 'mong his subjects?Ant.None, man; all idle.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?

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 produceWithout 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 foison, all abundance,To feed my innocent people.

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 foison, all abundance,

To feed my innocent people.

Seb.No marrying 'mong his subjects?

Ant.None, man; all idle.

Gon.I would with such perfection govern, sir,To excel the golden age.

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.Prithee, 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 laughed 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.

EnterAriel,invisible, playing solemn music.

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 exceptAlonso,Sebastian,andAntonio.

Alon.What, all so soon asleep! I wish mine eyesWould, with themselves, shut up my thoughts: I findThey are inclined to do so.Seb.Please you, sir,Do not omit the heavy offer of it:It seldom visits sorrow; when it doth,It is a comforter.Ant.We too, my lord,Will guard your person while you take your rest,And watch your safety.Alon.Thank you. Wondrous heavy.

Alon.What, all so soon asleep! I wish mine eyesWould, with themselves, shut up my thoughts: I findThey are inclined to do so.

Alon.What, all so soon asleep! I wish mine eyes

Would, with themselves, shut up my thoughts: I find

They are inclined to do so.

Seb.Please you, sir,Do not omit the heavy offer of it:It seldom visits sorrow; when it doth,It is a comforter.

Seb.Please you, sir,

Do not omit the heavy offer of it:

It seldom visits sorrow; when it doth,

It is a comforter.

Ant.We too, my lord,Will guard your person while you take your rest,And watch your safety.

Ant.We too, my lord,

Will guard your person while you take your rest,

And watch your safety.

Alon.Thank you. Wondrous heavy.

[Alonsosleeps. ExitAriel.

Seb.What a strange drowsiness possesses them!

Ant.It is the quality o' the climate.

Seb.WhyDoth it not then our eyelids sink? I find notMyself disposed to sleep.Ant.Nor I; my spirits are nimble,They fell together all, as by consent;They dropp'd, as by a thunder-stroke. What might,Worthy Sebastian?—O, what might?—No more:—And yet methinks I see it in thy face,What thou shouldst be: the occasion speaks thee, andMy strong imagination sees a crownDropping upon thy head.Seb.What, art thou waking?Ant.Do you not hear me speak?Seb.I do; and surelyIt is a sleepy language and thou speak'stOut of thy sleep. What is it thou didst say?This is a strange repose, to be asleepWith eyes wide open; standing, speaking, moving,And yet so fast asleep.Ant.Noble Sebastian,Thou let'st thy fortune sleep—die, rather; wink'stWhiles thou art waking.Seb.Thou dost snore distinctly;There's meaning in thy snores.Ant.I am more serious than my custom: youMust be so too, if heed me; which to doTrebles thee o'er.Seb.Well, I am standing water.Ant.I'll teach you how to flow.Seb.Do so: to ebbHereditary sloth instructs me.Ant.O,If you but knew how you the purpose cherishWhiles thus you mock it! how, in stripping it,You more invest it! Ebbing men, indeed,Most often do so near the bottom runBy their own fear or sloth.Seb.Prithee, say on:The setting of thine eye and cheek proclaimA matter from thee, and a birth indeedWhich throes thee much to yield.Ant.Thus, sir:Although this lord of weak remembrance, this,Who shall be of as little memoryWhen he is earth'd, hath here almost persuaded—For he's a spirit of persuasion, onlyProfesses to persuade—the king his son's alive,'Tis as impossible that he's undrown'dAs he that sleeps here swims.Seb.I have no hopeThat he's undrown'd.Ant.O, out of that 'no hope'What great hope have you! no hope that way isAnother way so high a hope that evenAmbition cannot pierce a wink beyond,But doubt discovery there. Will you grant with meThat Ferdinand is drown'd?Seb.He's gone.Ant.Then, tell me,Who's the next heir of Naples?Seb.Claribel.Ant.She that is queen of Tunis; she that dwellsTen leagues beyond man's life; she that from NaplesCan have no note, unless the sun were post—The man i' the moon's too slow—till new-born chinsBe rough and razorable; she that from whomWe all were sea-swallow'd, though some cast again,And by that destiny to perform an actWhereof what's past is prologue, what to comeIn 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 regionsThere is some space.Ant.A space whose every cubitSeems to cry out, 'How shall that ClaribelMeasure us back to Naples? Keep in Tunis,And let Sebastian wake.' Say, this were deathThat now hath seized them; why, they were no worseThan now they are. There be that can rule NaplesAs well as he that sleeps; lords that can prateAs amply and unnecessarilyAs this Gonzalo; I myself could makeA chough of as deep chat. O, that you boreThe mind that I do! what a sleep were thisFor your advancement! Do you understand me?Seb.Methinks I do.Ant.And how does your contentTender your own good fortune?Seb.I rememberYou did supplant your brother Prospero.Ant.True:And look how well my garments sit upon me;Much feater than before: my brother's servantsWere 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 notThis deity in my bosom: twenty consciences,That stand 'twixt me and Milan, candied be theyAnd 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 putThis ancient morsel, this Sir Prudence, whoShould 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 thatWe 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 strokeShall free thee from the tribute which thou payest;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.

Seb.WhyDoth it not then our eyelids sink? I find notMyself disposed to sleep.

Seb.Why

Doth it not then our eyelids sink? I find not

Myself disposed to sleep.

Ant.Nor I; my spirits are nimble,They fell together all, as by consent;They dropp'd, as by a thunder-stroke. What might,Worthy Sebastian?—O, what might?—No more:—And yet methinks I see it in thy face,What thou shouldst be: the occasion speaks thee, andMy strong imagination sees a crownDropping upon thy head.

Ant.Nor I; my spirits are nimble,

They fell together all, as by consent;

They dropp'd, as by a thunder-stroke. What might,

Worthy Sebastian?—O, what might?—No more:—

And yet methinks I see it in thy face,

What thou shouldst be: the occasion speaks thee, and

My strong imagination sees a crown

Dropping upon thy head.

Seb.What, art thou waking?

Ant.Do you not hear me speak?

Seb.I do; and surelyIt is a sleepy language and thou speak'stOut of thy sleep. What is it thou didst say?This is a strange repose, to be asleepWith eyes wide open; standing, speaking, moving,And yet so fast asleep.

Seb.I do; and surely

It is a sleepy language and thou speak'st

Out of thy sleep. What is it thou didst say?

This is a strange repose, to be asleep

With eyes wide open; standing, speaking, moving,

And yet so fast asleep.

Ant.Noble Sebastian,Thou let'st thy fortune sleep—die, rather; wink'stWhiles thou art waking.

Ant.Noble Sebastian,

Thou let'st thy fortune sleep—die, rather; wink'st

Whiles thou art waking.

Seb.Thou dost snore distinctly;There's meaning in thy snores.

Seb.Thou dost snore distinctly;

There's meaning in thy snores.

Ant.I am more serious than my custom: youMust be so too, if heed me; which to doTrebles thee o'er.

Ant.I am more serious than my custom: you

Must be so too, if heed me; which to do

Trebles thee o'er.

Seb.Well, I am standing water.

Ant.I'll teach you how to flow.

Seb.Do so: to ebbHereditary sloth instructs me.

Seb.Do so: to ebb

Hereditary sloth instructs me.

Ant.O,If you but knew how you the purpose cherishWhiles thus you mock it! how, in stripping it,You more invest it! Ebbing men, indeed,Most often do so near the bottom runBy their own fear or sloth.

Ant.O,

If you but knew how you the purpose cherish

Whiles thus you mock it! how, in stripping it,

You more invest it! Ebbing men, indeed,

Most often do so near the bottom run

By their own fear or sloth.

Seb.Prithee, say on:The setting of thine eye and cheek proclaimA matter from thee, and a birth indeedWhich throes thee much to yield.

Seb.Prithee, say on:

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 memoryWhen he is earth'd, hath here almost persuaded—For he's a spirit of persuasion, onlyProfesses to persuade—the king his son's alive,'Tis as impossible that he's undrown'dAs he that sleeps here swims.

Ant.Thus, sir:

Although this lord of weak remembrance, this,

Who shall be of as little memory

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 hopeThat he's undrown'd.

Seb.I have no hope

That he's undrown'd.

Ant.O, out of that 'no hope'What great hope have you! no hope that way isAnother way so high a hope that evenAmbition cannot pierce a wink beyond,But doubt discovery there. Will you grant with meThat Ferdinand is drown'd?

Ant.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.Then, tell me,Who's the next heir of Naples?

Ant.Then, tell me,

Who's the next heir of Naples?

Seb.Claribel.

Ant.She that is queen of Tunis; she that dwellsTen leagues beyond man's life; she that from NaplesCan have no note, unless the sun were post—The man i' the moon's too slow—till new-born chinsBe rough and razorable; she that from whomWe all were sea-swallow'd, though some cast again,And by that destiny to perform an actWhereof what's past is prologue, what to comeIn yours and my discharge.

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' 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.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 regionsThere is some space.

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 cubitSeems to cry out, 'How shall that ClaribelMeasure us back to Naples? Keep in Tunis,And let Sebastian wake.' Say, this were deathThat now hath seized them; why, they were no worseThan now they are. There be that can rule NaplesAs well as he that sleeps; lords that can prateAs amply and unnecessarilyAs this Gonzalo; I myself could makeA chough of as deep chat. O, that you boreThe mind that I do! what a sleep were thisFor your advancement! Do you understand me?

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 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

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 contentTender your own good fortune?

Ant.And how does your content

Tender your own good fortune?

Seb.I rememberYou did supplant your brother Prospero.

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 servantsWere then my fellows: now they are my men.

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 'twere a kibe,'Twould put me to my slipper: but I feel notThis deity in my bosom: twenty consciences,That stand 'twixt me and Milan, candied be theyAnd 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 putThis ancient morsel, this Sir Prudence, whoShould 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 thatWe say befits the hour.

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,

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 strokeShall free thee from the tribute which thou payest;And I the king shall love thee.

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.Draw together;And when I rear my hand do you the like,To fall it on Gonzalo.

Ant.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-enterAriel,invisible.

Ari.My master through his art foresees the dangerThat you, his friend, are in; and sends me forth—For else his project dies—to keep them living.

Ari.My master through his art foresees the danger

That you, his friend, are in; and sends me forth—

For else his project dies—to keep them living.

[Sings inGonzalo'sear.

While you here do snoring lie,Open-eyed conspiracyHis time doth take.If of life you keep a care,Shake off slumber, and beware:Awake, awake!

While you here do snoring lie,

Open-eyed conspiracy

His time doth take.

If of life you keep a care,

Shake off slumber, and beware:

Awake, awake!

Ant.Then let us both be sudden.Gon.Now, good angelsPreserve the king!

Ant.Then let us both be sudden.

Gon.Now, good angelsPreserve the king!

Gon.Now, good angels

Preserve the king!

[They wake.

Alon.Why, how now? ho, awake! Why are you drawn?Wherefore this ghastly looking?Gon.What's the matter?Seb.Whiles we stood here securing your repose,Even now, we heard a hollow burst of bellowingLike bulls, or rather lions: did't not wake you?It struck mine ear most terribly.Alon.I heard nothing.Ant.O, 'twas a din to fright a monster's ear,To make an earthquake! sure, it was the roarOf 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: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 searchFor my poor son.Gon.Heavens keep him from these beasts!For he is, sure, i' the island.Alon.Lead away.Ari.Prospero my lord shall know what I have done:So, king, go safely on to seek thy son.

Alon.Why, how now? ho, awake! Why are you drawn?Wherefore this ghastly looking?

Alon.Why, how now? ho, awake! Why are you drawn?

Wherefore this ghastly looking?

Gon.What's the matter?

Seb.Whiles we stood here securing your repose,Even now, we heard a hollow burst of bellowingLike bulls, or rather lions: did't not wake you?It struck mine ear most terribly.

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.

Ant.O, 'twas a din to fright a monster's ear,To make an earthquake! sure, it was the roarOf a whole herd of lions.

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: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.

Gon.Upon mine honour, sir, I heard a humming,

And that a strange one too, which did awake me:

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 searchFor my poor son.

Alon.Lead off this ground; and let's make further search

For my poor son.

Gon.Heavens keep him from these beasts!For he is, sure, i' the island.

Gon.Heavens keep him from these beasts!

For he is, sure, i' the island.

Alon.Lead away.

Ari.Prospero my lord shall know what I have done:So, king, go safely on to seek thy son.

Ari.Prospero my lord shall know what I have done:

So, king, go safely on to seek thy son.

[Exeunt.

Stephano: 'Come, swear to that: kiss the book' (page 72).

Another part of the island.

EnterCalibanwith a burden of wood. A noise of thunder heard.

Cal.All the infections that the sun sucks upFrom bogs, fens, flats, on Prosper fall, and make himBy inch-meal a disease! His spirits hear me,And yet I needs must curse. But they'll nor pinch,Fright me with urchin-shows, pitch me i' the mire,Nor lead me, like a firebrand, in the darkOut of my way, unless he bid 'em; butFor every trifle are they set upon me;Sometime like apes that mow and chatter at meAnd after bite me; then like hedgehogs, whichLie tumbling in my barefoot way and mountTheir pricks at my footfall; sometime am IAll wound with adders, who with cloven tonguesDo hiss me into madness.

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,

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

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.

EnterTrinculo.

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