Ari.

Pardon, master:

I will be correspondent to command,
And do my spiriting gently.
Pro.

Do so; and after two days

I will discharge thee.
Ari.
That's my noble master!
What shall I do? say what? what shall I do?
Pro. Go make thyself like to a nymph o'
the sea;

Be subject to no sight but mine; invisible
To every eye-ball else. Go, take this shape,
And hither come in't: hence, with diligence.
[Exit ARIEL.
Awake, dear heart, awake! thou hast slept
Awake!
[well;
Mira. The strangeness of your story put
Heaviness in me.

Pro.

Shake it off: Come on; We'll visit Caliban, my slave, who never

Yields us kind answer.

Mira.

I do not love to look on. Pro.

'Tis a villain, sir,

But, as 'tis,

We cannot miss him : he does make our fire, Fetch in our wood; and serves in offices

That profit us. What, ho! slave! Caliban! Thou earth, thou! speak.

Cal. [within.] There's wood enough within. Pro. Come forth, I say; there's other business for thee:

Come forth, thou tortoise! when?

Re-enter ARIEL, like a water-nymph.
Fine apparition! My quaint Ariel,
Hark in thine ear.

Ari. My lord, it shall be done. [Exit. Pro. Thou poisonous slave, got by the devil Upon thy wicked dam, come forth! [himself

Enter CALIBAN.

Cal. As wicked dew as e'er my mother brush'd

With raven's feather from unwholesome fen, Drop on you both! a south-west blow on ye, And blister you all o'er!

Pro. For this, be sure, to-night thou shalt have cramps, (urchins

Side-stitches that shall pen thy breath up;
Shail, for that vast of night that they may work,
All exercise on thee: thou shalt be pinch'd
As thick as honey-combs, each pinch more
stinging

Than bees that made them.
Cal.
I must eat my dinner.
This island's mine, by Sycorax my mother,
Which thou tak'st from me. When thou
cam❜st first,
[would'st give me
Thon strok'dst me, and mad'st much of me;
Water with berries in't; and teach me how
To name the bigger light, and how the less,
That burn by day and night: and then I lov'd
thee,

Cursed be I that did so!-All the charms
Of Sycorax, toads, beetles, bats, light on you
For I am all the subjects that you have,
Which first was mine own king: and here you
sty me

In this hard rock, whiles you do keep from me
The rest o' the island.
Pro.
Thou most lying slave,
Whom stripes may move, not kindness: I have
us'd thee,
[thee
Filth as thou art, with human care; and lodg'd
In mine own cell, till thou didst seek to violate
The honour of my child.

Cal. O ho, O ho!-would it had been done!
Thou didst prevent me; I had peopled else
This isle with Calibans.
Pro.
Abhorred slave;
Which any print of goodness will not take,
Being capable of all il!! I pitied thee,
Took pains to make thee speak, taught thee
each hour

One thing or other: when thou didst not,savage, Know thine own meaning, but would'st gabble like

A thing most brutish, I endow'd thy purposes With words that made them known: But thy vile race, [good natures Though thou didst learn, had that in't which Could not abide to be with; therefore wast thou Deservedly confin'd into this rock, Who hadst deserv'd more than a prison. Cal. You taught me language; and my pro fit on't

[you, Is, I know how to curse: the red plague rid For learning me your language!

Pro. Hag-seed, hence! Fetch us in fuel; and be quick, thou wert best, To answer other business. Shrug'st thou,

malice?

If thou neglect'st, or dcst unwillingly What I command, I'll rack thee with old cramps;

Fill all thy bones with aches; make thee roar, That beasts shall tremble at thy din.

Cal.

No, pray thee!I must obey: his art is of such power, [Aside It would control my dam's god, Setebos, And make a vassal of him.

Pro.

So, slave, hence! [Erit CAL. Re-enter ARIEL invisible, playing & singing; FERDINAND following him.

ARIEL'S Song.

Come unto these yellow sands,
And then take hands:

Court'sied when you have, and kiss'd, (The wild waves whist (,)

Foot it featly here and there;
And, sweet sprites, the burden bear.
Hark, hark!

Bur. Bowgh, wowgh.
The watch dogs bark;

✰ Destroy.

[dispersedly.

§ Still, silent.

Bur. Bowgh, wowgh.

Hark, hark! I hear

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

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.

ARIEL sings.

Full fathom five thy father lies,
Of his bones are coral made;
Those are pearls that were his eyes:
Nothing of him that doth fade,
But doth suffer a sea-change
Into something rich and strange.
Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell.
Hark! now I hear them,-ding-dong bell.
[Burden, ding-dong.
Fer. The ditty does remember my drown'd

father.

This is no mortal business, nor no sound [me.
That the earth owes *:-I hear it now above
Pro. The fringed curtains of thine eye ad-
And say, what thou seest yond'. [vance,
Miru.
What is't? a spirit?
Lord, how it looks about! Believe me, sir,
It carries a brave form :-But 'tis a spirit.
Pro. No, wench; it eats and sleeps, and
hath such senses

As we have,such: This gallant which thou seest,
Was in the wreck; and, but he's something
stain'd
[call him
With grief,that's beauty's canker, thou might'st
A goodly person: he hath lost his fellows,
And strays about to find them.
Mira.
I might call him
A thing divine; for nothing natural
I ever saw so noble.
Pro.

As my

It goes on, [Aside. soul prompts it:-Spirit, fine spirit! I'll

free thee Within two days for this.

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?
Mira.

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.
Pro.
How! the best?
What wert thou,if the kingof Naples heard thee?
Fer.A single thing,as I am now,that wonders
To hear thee speak of Naples: he does hear me;
+ Confute.

Own3.

If now 'twere fit to do't:-At the first sight
[Aside.
They have chang'd eyes:-Delicate Ariel,
I'll set thee free for this!-A word, good sir;
I fear, you have done yourself some wrong:
a word.
[This
Mira. Why speaks my father so ungently?
Is the third man that e'er I saw; the first
That e'er I sigh'd for: pity move my father
To be inclin'd my way!
Fer.
O, if a virgin,
And your affection not gone forth, I'll make you
The queen of Naples.

Pro.

Soft, sir; one word more.— They are both in either's powers: but this [Aside.

swift business

I must uneasy make, lest too light winning Make the prize light.-One word more! I charge thee,

That thou attend me: thou dost here usurp
The name thou ow'st not; and hast put thyself
Upon this island, as a spy, to win it
From me, the lord on't.
Fer.
No, as I am a man.
Mira. There's nothing ill can dwell in such
a temple :

If the ill spirit have so fair an house,
Good things will strive to dwell with't.
Pro.
Follow me.-[To FERD.
Speak not you for him; he's a traitor.-Come.
I'll manacle thy neck and feet together:
Sea-water shalt thou drink, thy food shall be
The fresh-brook muscles, wither'd roots, and
Wherein the acorn cradled: Follow. [husks,
No;

Fer.

I will resist such entertainment, till
Mine enemy has more power. [He draws.
Mira.
O dear father,
Make not too rash a trial of him, for
He's gentle, and not fearfulį.
Pro.

What, I say,
My foot my tutor!-Put thy sword up, traitor;
Who mak'st a show, but dar'st not strike, thy
conscience
[ward;
Is so possess'd with guilt: come from thy
For I can here disarm thee with this stick,
And make thy weapon drop.
Mira.
Beseech yon, father!
Pro. Hence; hang not on my garments.
Mira.
Sir, have pity;
I'll be his surety.

Pro.

Silence: one word more Shall make me chide thee, if not hate thee. An advocate for an impostor? hush! [What! Thou think'st there are no more such shapes as he, [wench! Having seen but him and Caliban: Foolish § Guard.

+ Frightful.

Gon. Ay?

Ant. Why, in good time.

Gon. Sir, we were talking that our garments seem now as fresh, as when we were at Tunis at the marriage of your daughter, who is now queen.

Ant. And the rarest that e'er came there. Seb. 'Bate, I beseech you, widow Dido. Ant. O, widow Dido; ay, widow Dido. Gon. Is not, sir, my doublet as fresh as the first day I wore it? I mean, in a sort*. Ant. That sort was well fish'd for. Gon. When I wore it at your daughter's marriage? [against Alon. You cram these words into mine ears, 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 remov'd,

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 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;
[daughter,
That would not bless our Europe with your
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.

Pr'ythee, peace. Seb. You were kneel'd to, and impórtun'd otherwise

By all of us; and the fair soul herself Weigh'd, between lothness and obedience, at Which end o' the beam she'd bow. We have

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

Foul weather?

Seb.
Ant.
Very foul.
Gon. Had I a plantation of this isle,my lord-
Ant. He'd sow it with nettle-seed.

Seb.
Or docks or mallows.
Gon. And were the king of it, What would I
do?

Seb. 'Scape being drunk, for want of wine. Gon. I' the commonwealth I would by contraries

Execute all things: for no kind of traffic
Would I admit; no name of magistrate;
Letters should not be known; no use of service,
Of riches or of poverty; no contracts,
Successions; 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. And yet he would be king on't.
Ant. The latter end of his commonwealth
forgets the beginning.
[produce
Gon. All things in common nature should
Without sweat or endeavour: treason, felony,
Sword, pike, knife, gun,or need of any engine+,
Would I not have; but nature should bring forth,
Of its own kind, all foizon, all abundance,
To feed my innocent people.

Seb. No marrying 'mong his subjects? Ant.None,man; all idle; whores and knaves. Gon. I would with such perfection govern, To excel the golden age. [sir,

Seb.

Save his majesty !

Ant. Long live Gonzalo !
Gon.

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

Gon. I do well believe your highness; and did it to minister occasion to these gentlemen, who are of such sensible and nimble lungs, that they always use to laugh at nothing. Ant. 'Twas you we laugh'd at.

Gon. Who, in this kind of merry fooling, am nothing to you; so you may continue, and laugh at nothing still.

Ant. What a blow was there given?
Seb. An it had not fallen flat-long.

Gon. You are gentlemen of brave mettle ; you would lift the moon out of her sphere, if she would continue in it five weeks without changing.

Enter ARIEL invisible, playing solemn

music.

Seb. We would so, and then go a 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 iaugh me asleep, for I am very heavy?

Plenty.

Nor 1; my spirits are nimble. They fell together all, as by consent; They dropp'd, as by a thunder-stroke. What might, [more:Worthy Sebastian?-0, what might ?-No And yet, methinks, I see it in thy face, What thou should'st 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, 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, And yet so fast asleep. [moving, Ant. Noble Sebastian, Thou let'st thy fortune sleep-die rather; Whiles thou art waking. [wink'st Seb. Thou dost snore distinctly; There's meanin in thy snores.

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 ebb, Hereditary sloth instructs me. Ant. 0, 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. Pr'ythee, say on: The setting of thine eye and cheek proclaim A matter from thee; and a birth, indeed, Which throes thee much to yield.

Thus, sir:

Ant. 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,)
The king, his son's alive; 'tis as impossible
That he's undrown'd, as he that sleeps here,
Seb. I have no hope
[swims.
That he's undrown'd.
Ant.
O, out of that no hope,
What great hope have you! no hope,that way,is
Another way so high an hope, that even
Ambition cannot pierce a wink beyond,
But doubts discovery there. Will you grant,
That Ferdinand is drown'd? [with me,
He's gone.

Seb. Ant.

Who's the next heir of Naples ? Seb.

Then tell me,

Claribel.

Ant. She that is queen of Tunis; she that

dwells

[Naples Ten leagues beyond man's life; she that from Can have no note, unless the sun were post, (The man i' the moon's too slow,) till newborn chins

Be rough and razorable: she, from whom We were all sea-swallow'd, though some cast again;

And, by that, destin'd to perform an act,
Whereof what's past is prologue; what to come,
In yours and my discharge.
Seb. What stuff is this? how say you?
'Tis true, my brother's daughter's queen of

Tunis ;

So is she heir of Naples; 'twixt which regions
There is some space.
Ant.

A space whose every cubit
Seems to cry out, How shall that Claribel
Measure us back to Naples?-Keep in Tunis,
And let Sebastian wake!-Say, this were death
That now hath seized them; why they were
[Naples,
Than now they are: There be, that can rule
As well as he that sleeps; lords, that can prate
As amply, and unnecessarily,
As this Gonzalo; I myself could make

no worse

chough* of as deep chat. O, that you bore The mind that I do! what a sleep were this; For your advancement! Do you understand me, Seb. Methinks I do. Ant. And how does your content Tender your own good fortune? Seb.

I remember, You did supplant your brother Prospero. Ant.

True:

And, look, how well my garments sit upon me? Much feater than before: My brother's servants Were then my fellows, now they are my men.

Seb. But, for your conscience- [kibe, Ant. Ay, sir, where lies that? if it were a '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; whom I,
With this obedient steel, three inches of it,
Can lay to bed for ever: whiles you, doing thus