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1. Act I, Scene 1
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0
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On a ship at sea: a tempestuous noise of thunder and lightning heard.
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1
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[Enter a Master and a Boatswain]
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2
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Master.
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3
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Boatswain!
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4
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Boatswain.
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5
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Here, master: what cheer?
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6
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Master.
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7
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Good, speak to the mariners: fall to't, yarely,
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8
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or we run ourselves aground: bestir, bestir.
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9
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[Exit]
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10
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[Enter Mariners]
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11
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Boatswain.
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12
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Heigh, my hearts! cheerly, cheerly, my hearts!
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13
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yare, yare! Take in the topsail. Tend to the
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14
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master's whistle. Blow, till thou burst thy wind,
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15
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if room enough!
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16
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[Enter ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, FERDINAND,]
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17
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GONZALO, and others]
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18
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Alonso.
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19
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Good boatswain, have care. Where's the master?
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20
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Play the men.
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21
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Boatswain.
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22
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I pray now, keep below.
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23
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Antonio.
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24
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Where is the master, boatswain?
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25
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Boatswain.
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26
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Do you not hear him? You mar our labour: keep your
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27
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cabins: you do assist the storm.
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28
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Gonzalo.
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29
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Nay, good, be patient.
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30
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Boatswain.
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31
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When the sea is. Hence! What cares these roarers
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32
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for the name of king? To cabin: silence! trouble us not.
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33
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Gonzalo.
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34
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Good, yet remember whom thou hast aboard.
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35
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Boatswain.
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36
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None that I more love than myself. You are a
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37
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counsellor; if you can command these elements to
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38
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silence, and work the peace of the present, we will
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39
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not hand a rope more; use your authority: if you
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40
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cannot, give thanks you have lived so long, and make
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41
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yourself ready in your cabin for the mischance of
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42
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the hour, if it so hap. Cheerly, good hearts! Out
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43
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of our way, I say.
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44
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[Exit]
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45
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Gonzalo.
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46
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I have great comfort from this fellow: methinks he
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47
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hath no drowning mark upon him; his complexion is
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48
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perfect gallows. Stand fast, good Fate, to his
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49
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hanging: make the rope of his destiny our cable,
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50
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for our own doth little advantage. If he be not
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51
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born to be hanged, our case is miserable.
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52
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[Exeunt]
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53
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[Re-enter Boatswain]
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54
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Boatswain.
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55
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Down with the topmast! yare! lower, lower! Bring
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56
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her to try with main-course.
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57
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[A cry within]
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58
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A plague upon this howling! they are louder than
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59
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the weather or our office.
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60
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[Re-enter SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, and GONZALO]
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61
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Yet again! what do you here? Shall we give o'er
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62
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and drown? Have you a mind to sink?
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63
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Sebastian.
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A pox o' your throat, you bawling, blasphemous,
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incharitable dog!
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66
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Boatswain.
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67
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Work you then.
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68
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Antonio.
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69
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Hang, cur! hang, you whoreson, insolent noisemaker!
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70
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We are less afraid to be drowned than thou art.
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71
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Gonzalo.
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72
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I'll warrant him for drowning; though the ship were
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73
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no stronger than a nutshell and as leaky as an
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74
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unstanched wench.
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75
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Boatswain.
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76
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Lay her a-hold, a-hold! set her two courses off to
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77
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sea again; lay her off.
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78
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[Enter Mariners wet]
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79
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Mariners.
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All lost! to prayers, to prayers! all lost!
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Boatswain.
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What, must our mouths be cold?
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83
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Gonzalo.
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The king and prince at prayers! let's assist them,
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85
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For our case is as theirs.
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86
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Sebastian.
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87
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I'm out of patience.
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88
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Antonio.
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89
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We are merely cheated of our lives by drunkards:
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90
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This wide-chapp'd rascal—would thou mightst lie drowning
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91
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The washing of ten tides!
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92
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Gonzalo.
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93
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He'll be hang'd yet,
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94
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Though every drop of water swear against it
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95
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And gape at widest to glut him.
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96
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[A confused noise within: 'Mercy on us!'—]
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97
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'We split, we split!'—'Farewell, my wife and
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98
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children!'—
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'Farewell, brother!'—'We split, we split, we split!']
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100
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Antonio.
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101
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Let's all sink with the king.
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102
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Sebastian.
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103
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Let's take leave of him.
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104
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[Exeunt ANTONIO and SEBASTIAN]
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105
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Gonzalo.
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106
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Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea for an
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107
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acre of barren ground, long heath, brown furze, any
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108
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thing. The wills above be done! but I would fain
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109
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die a dry death.
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110
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[Exeunt]
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2. Act I, Scene 2
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0
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The island. Before PROSPERO’S cell.
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1
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[Enter PROSPERO and MIRANDA]
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2
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Miranda.
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3
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If by your art, my dearest father, you have
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4
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Put the wild waters in this roar, allay them.
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5
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The sky, it seems, would pour down stinking pitch,
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6
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But that the sea, mounting to the welkin's cheek,
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7
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Dashes the fire out. O, I have suffered
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With those that I saw suffer: a brave vessel,
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9
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Who had, no doubt, some noble creature in her,
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Dash'd all to pieces. O, the cry did knock
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Against my very heart. Poor souls, they perish'd.
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12
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Had I been any god of power, I would
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Have sunk the sea within the earth or ere
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It should the good ship so have swallow'd and
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The fraughting souls within her.
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Prospero.
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Be collected:
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No more amazement: tell your piteous heart
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There's no harm done.
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Miranda.
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O, woe the day!
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Prospero.
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23
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No harm.
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I have done nothing but in care of thee,
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Of thee, my dear one, thee, my daughter, who
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Art ignorant of what thou art, nought knowing
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Of whence I am, nor that I am more better
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Than Prospero, master of a full poor cell,
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And thy no greater father.
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Miranda.
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31
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More to know
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Did never meddle with my thoughts.
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Prospero.
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34
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'Tis time
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I should inform thee farther. Lend thy hand,
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36
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And pluck my magic garment from me. So:
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[Lays down his mantle]
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Lie there, my art. Wipe thou thine eyes; have comfort.
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39
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The direful spectacle of the wreck, which touch'd
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The very virtue of compassion in thee,
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I have with such provision in mine art
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So safely ordered that there is no soul—
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No, not so much perdition as an hair
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Betid to any creature in the vessel
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Which thou heard'st cry, which thou saw'st sink. Sit down;
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For thou must now know farther.
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Miranda.
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48
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You have often
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49
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Begun to tell me what I am, but stopp'd
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And left me to a bootless inquisition,
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Concluding 'Stay: not yet.'
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Prospero.
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53
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The hour's now come;
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The very minute bids thee ope thine ear;
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Obey and be attentive. Canst thou remember
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A time before we came unto this cell?
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I do not think thou canst, for then thou wast not
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Out three years old.
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59
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Miranda.
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60
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Certainly, sir, I can.
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61
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Prospero.
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62
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By what? by any other house or person?
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63
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Of any thing the image tell me that
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Hath kept with thy remembrance.
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Miranda.
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66
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'Tis far off
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And rather like a dream than an assurance
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That my remembrance warrants. Had I not
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69
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Four or five women once that tended me?
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70
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Prospero.
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71
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Thou hadst, and more, Miranda. But how is it
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72
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That this lives in thy mind? What seest thou else
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73
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In the dark backward and abysm of time?
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74
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If thou remember'st aught ere thou camest here,
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How thou camest here thou mayst.
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76
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Miranda.
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77
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But that I do not.
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78
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Prospero.
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79
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Twelve year since, Miranda, twelve year since,
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80
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Thy father was the Duke of Milan and
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81
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A prince of power.
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82
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Miranda.
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83
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Sir, are not you my father?
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84
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Prospero.
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85
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Thy mother was a piece of virtue, and
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86
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She said thou wast my daughter; and thy father
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87
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Was Duke of Milan; and thou his only heir
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88
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And princess no worse issued.
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89
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Miranda.
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90
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O the heavens!
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91
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What foul play had we, that we came from thence?
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92
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Or blessed was't we did?
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93
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Prospero.
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94
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Both, both, my girl:
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95
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By foul play, as thou say'st, were we heaved thence,
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96
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But blessedly holp hither.
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97
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Miranda.
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98
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O, my heart bleeds
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99
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To think o' the teen that I have turn'd you to,
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100
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Which is from my remembrance! Please you, farther.
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101
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Prospero.
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102
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My brother and thy uncle, call'd Antonio—
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103
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I pray thee, mark me—that a brother should
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104
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Be so perfidious!—he whom next thyself
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105
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Of all the world I loved and to him put
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106
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The manage of my state; as at that time
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107
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Through all the signories it was the first
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108
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And Prospero the prime duke, being so reputed
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109
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In dignity, and for the liberal arts
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110
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Without a parallel; those being all my study,
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111
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The government I cast upon my brother
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112
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And to my state grew stranger, being transported
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113
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And rapt in secret studies. Thy false uncle—
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114
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Dost thou attend me?
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115
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Miranda.
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116
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Sir, most heedfully.
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117
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Prospero.
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118
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Being once perfected how to grant suits,
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119
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How to deny them, who to advance and who
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120
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To trash for over-topping, new created
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121
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The creatures that were mine, I say, or changed 'em,
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122
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Or else new form'd 'em; having both the key
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123
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Of officer and office, set all hearts i' the state
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124
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To what tune pleased his ear; that now he was
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125
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The ivy which had hid my princely trunk,
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126
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And suck'd my verdure out on't. Thou attend'st not.
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127
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Miranda.
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128
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O, good sir, I do.
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129
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Prospero.
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130
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I pray thee, mark me.
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131
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I, thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicated
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132
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To closeness and the bettering of my mind
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133
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With that which, but by being so retired,
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134
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O'er-prized all popular rate, in my false brother
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135
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Awaked an evil nature; and my trust,
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136
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Like a good parent, did beget of him
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137
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A falsehood in its contrary as great
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138
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As my trust was; which had indeed no limit,
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139
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A confidence sans bound. He being thus lorded,
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140
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Not only with what my revenue yielded,
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141
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But what my power might else exact, like one
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142
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Who having into truth, by telling of it,
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143
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Made such a sinner of his memory,
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144
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To credit his own lie, he did believe
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145
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He was indeed the duke; out o' the substitution
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146
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And executing the outward face of royalty,
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147
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With all prerogative: hence his ambition growing—
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148
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Dost thou hear?
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149
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Miranda.
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150
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Your tale, sir, would cure deafness.
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151
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Prospero.
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152
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To have no screen between this part he play'd
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153
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And him he play'd it for, he needs will be
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154
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Absolute Milan. Me, poor man, my library
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155
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Was dukedom large enough: of temporal royalties
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156
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He thinks me now incapable; confederates—
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157
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So dry he was for sway—wi' the King of Naples
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158
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To give him annual tribute, do him homage,
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159
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Subject his coronet to his crown and bend
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160
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The dukedom yet unbow'd—alas, poor Milan!—
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161
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To most ignoble stooping.
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162
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Miranda.
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163
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O the heavens!
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164
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Prospero.
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165
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Mark his condition and the event; then tell me
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166
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If this might be a brother.
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167
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Miranda.
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168
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I should sin
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169
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To think but nobly of my grandmother:
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170
|
|
|
Good wombs have borne bad sons.
|
|
171
|
|
|
Prospero.
|
|
172
|
|
|
Now the condition.
|
|
173
|
|
|
The King of Naples, being an enemy
|
|
174
|
|
|
To me inveterate, hearkens my brother's suit;
|
|
175
|
|
|
Which was, that he, in lieu o' the premises
|
|
176
|
|
|
Of homage and I know not how much tribute,
|
|
177
|
|
|
Should presently extirpate me and mine
|
|
178
|
|
|
Out of the dukedom and confer fair Milan
|
|
179
|
|
|
With all the honours on my brother: whereon,
|
|
180
|
|
|
A treacherous army levied, one midnight
|
|
181
|
|
|
Fated to the purpose did Antonio open
|
|
182
|
|
|
The gates of Milan, and, i' the dead of darkness,
|
|
183
|
|
|
The ministers for the purpose hurried thence
|
|
184
|
|
|
Me and thy crying self.
|
|
185
|
|
|
Miranda.
|
|
186
|
|
|
Alack, for pity!
|
|
187
|
|
|
I, not remembering how I cried out then,
|
|
188
|
|
|
Will cry it o'er again: it is a hint
|
|
189
|
|
|
That wrings mine eyes to't.
|
|
190
|
|
|
Prospero.
|
|
191
|
|
|
Hear a little further
|
|
192
|
|
|
And then I'll bring thee to the present business
|
|
193
|
|
|
Which now's upon's; without the which this story
|
|
194
|
|
|
Were most impertinent.
|
|
195
|
|
|
Miranda.
|
|
196
|
|
|
Wherefore did they not
|
|
197
|
|
|
That hour destroy us?
|
|
198
|
|
|
Prospero.
|
|
199
|
|
|
Well demanded, wench:
|
|
200
|
|
|
My tale provokes that question. Dear, they durst not,
|
|
201
|
|
|
So dear the love my people bore me, nor set
|
|
202
|
|
|
A mark so bloody on the business, but
|
|
203
|
|
|
With colours fairer painted their foul ends.
|
|
204
|
|
|
In few, they hurried us aboard a bark,
|
|
205
|
|
|
Bore us some leagues to sea; where they prepared
|
|
206
|
|
|
A rotten carcass of a boat, not rigg'd,
|
|
207
|
|
|
Nor tackle, sail, nor mast; the very rats
|
|
208
|
|
|
Instinctively had quit it: there they hoist us,
|
|
209
|
|
|
To cry to the sea that roar'd to us, to sigh
|
|
210
|
|
|
To the winds whose pity, sighing back again,
|
|
211
|
|
|
Did us but loving wrong.
|
|
212
|
|
|
Miranda.
|
|
213
|
|
|
Alack, what trouble
|
|
214
|
|
|
Was I then to you!
|
|
215
|
|
|
Prospero.
|
|
216
|
|
|
O, a cherubim
|
|
217
|
|
|
Thou wast that did preserve me. Thou didst smile.
|
|
218
|
|
|
Infused with a fortitude from heaven,
|
|
219
|
|
|
When I have deck'd the sea with drops full salt,
|
|
220
|
|
|
Under my burthen groan'd; which raised in me
|
|
221
|
|
|
An undergoing stomach, to bear up
|
|
222
|
|
|
Against what should ensue.
|
|
223
|
|
|
Miranda.
|
|
224
|
|
|
How came we ashore?
|
|
225
|
|
|
Prospero.
|
|
226
|
|
|
By Providence divine.
|
|
227
|
|
|
Some food we had and some fresh water that
|
|
228
|
|
|
A noble Neapolitan, Gonzalo,
|
|
229
|
|
|
Out of his charity, being then appointed
|
|
230
|
|
|
Master of this design, did give us, with
|
|
231
|
|
|
Rich garments, linens, stuffs and necessaries,
|
|
232
|
|
|
Which since have steaded much; so, of his gentleness,
|
|
233
|
|
|
Knowing I loved my books, he furnish'd me
|
|
234
|
|
|
From mine own library with volumes that
|
|
235
|
|
|
I prize above my dukedom.
|
|
236
|
|
|
Miranda.
|
|
237
|
|
|
Would I might
|
|
238
|
|
|
But ever see that man!
|
|
239
|
|
|
Prospero.
|
|
240
|
|
|
Now I arise:
|
|
241
|
|
|
[Resumes his mantle]
|
|
242
|
|
|
Sit still, and hear the last of our sea-sorrow.
|
|
243
|
|
|
Here in this island we arrived; and here
|
|
244
|
|
|
Have I, thy schoolmaster, made thee more profit
|
|
245
|
|
|
Than other princesses can that have more time
|
|
246
|
|
|
For vainer hours and tutors not so careful.
|
|
247
|
|
|
Miranda.
|
|
248
|
|
|
Heavens thank you for't! And now, I pray you, sir,
|
|
249
|
|
|
For still 'tis beating in my mind, your reason
|
|
250
|
|
|
For raising this sea-storm?
|
|
251
|
|
|
Prospero.
|
|
252
|
|
|
Know thus far forth.
|
|
253
|
|
|
By accident most strange, bountiful Fortune,
|
|
254
|
|
|
Now my dear lady, hath mine enemies
|
|
255
|
|
|
Brought to this shore; and by my prescience
|
|
256
|
|
|
I find my zenith doth depend upon
|
|
257
|
|
|
A most auspicious star, whose influence
|
|
258
|
|
|
If now I court not but omit, my fortunes
|
|
259
|
|
|
Will ever after droop. Here cease more questions:
|
|
260
|
|
|
Thou art inclined to sleep; 'tis a good dulness,
|
|
261
|
|
|
And give it way: I know thou canst not choose.
|
|
262
|
|
|
[MIRANDA sleeps]
|
|
263
|
|
|
Come away, servant, come. I am ready now.
|
|
264
|
|
|
Approach, my Ariel, come.
|
| |
|
265
|
|
|
[Enter ARIEL]
|
| |
|
266
|
|
|
Ariel.
|
|
267
|
|
|
All hail, great master! grave sir, hail! I come
|
|
268
|
|
|
To answer thy best pleasure; be't to fly,
|
|
269
|
|
|
To swim, to dive into the fire, to ride
|
|
270
|
|
|
On the curl'd clouds, to thy strong bidding task
|
|
271
|
|
|
Ariel and all his quality.
|
|
272
|
|
|
Prospero.
|
|
273
|
|
|
Hast thou, spirit,
|
|
274
|
|
|
Perform'd to point the tempest that I bade thee?
|
|
275
|
|
|
Ariel.
|
|
276
|
|
|
To every article.
|
|
277
|
|
|
I boarded the king's ship; now on the beak,
|
|
278
|
|
|
Now in the waist, the deck, in every cabin,
|
|
279
|
|
|
I flamed amazement: sometime I'ld divide,
|
|
280
|
|
|
And burn in many places; on the topmast,
|
|
281
|
|
|
The yards and bowsprit, would I flame distinctly,
|
|
282
|
|
|
Then meet and join. Jove's lightnings, the precursors
|
|
283
|
|
|
O' the dreadful thunder-claps, more momentary
|
|
284
|
|
|
And sight-outrunning were not; the fire and cracks
|
|
285
|
|
|
Of sulphurous roaring the most mighty Neptune
|
|
286
|
|
|
Seem to besiege and make his bold waves tremble,
|
|
287
|
|
|
Yea, his dread trident shake.
|
|
288
|
|
|
Prospero.
|
|
289
|
|
|
My brave spirit!
|
|
290
|
|
|
Who was so firm, so constant, that this coil
|
|
291
|
|
|
Would not infect his reason?
|
|
292
|
|
|
Ariel.
|
|
293
|
|
|
Not a soul
|
|
294
|
|
|
But felt a fever of the mad and play'd
|
|
295
|
|
|
Some tricks of desperation. All but mariners
|
|
296
|
|
|
Plunged in the foaming brine and quit the vessel,
|
|
297
|
|
|
Then all afire with me: the king's son, Ferdinand,
|
|
298
|
|
|
With hair up-staring,—then like reeds, not hair,—
|
|
299
|
|
|
Was the first man that leap'd; cried, 'Hell is empty
|
|
300
|
|
|
And all the devils are here.'
|
|
301
|
|
|
Prospero.
|
|
302
|
|
|
Why that's my spirit!
|
|
303
|
|
|
But was not this nigh shore?
|
|
304
|
|
|
Ariel.
|
|
305
|
|
|
Close by, my master.
|
|
306
|
|
|
Prospero.
|
|
307
|
|
|
But are they, Ariel, safe?
|
|
308
|
|
|
Ariel.
|
|
309
|
|
|
Not a hair perish'd;
|
|
310
|
|
|
On their sustaining garments not a blemish,
|
|
311
|
|
|
But fresher than before: and, as thou badest me,
|
|
312
|
|
|
In troops I have dispersed them 'bout the isle.
|
|
313
|
|
|
The king's son have I landed by himself;
|
|
314
|
|
|
Whom I left cooling of the air with sighs
|
|
315
|
|
|
In an odd angle of the isle and sitting,
|
|
316
|
|
|
His arms in this sad knot.
|
|
317
|
|
|
Prospero.
|
|
318
|
|
|
Of the king's ship
|
|
319
|
|
|
The mariners say how thou hast disposed
|
|
320
|
|
|
And all the rest o' the fleet.
|
|
321
|
|
|
Ariel.
|
|
322
|
|
|
Safely in harbour
|
|
323
|
|
|
Is the king's ship; in the deep nook, where once
|
|
324
|
|
|
Thou call'dst me up at midnight to fetch dew
|
|
325
|
|
|
From the still-vex'd Bermoothes, there she's hid:
|
|
326
|
|
|
The mariners all under hatches stow'd;
|
|
327
|
|
|
Who, with a charm join'd to their suffer'd labour,
|
|
328
|
|
|
I have left asleep; and for the rest o' the fleet
|
|
329
|
|
|
Which I dispersed, they all have met again
|
|
330
|
|
|
And are upon the Mediterranean flote,
|
|
331
|
|
|
Bound sadly home for Naples,
|
|
332
|
|
|
Supposing that they saw the king's ship wreck'd
|
|
333
|
|
|
And his great person perish.
|
|
334
|
|
|
Prospero.
|
|
335
|
|
|
Ariel, thy charge
|
|
336
|
|
|
Exactly is perform'd: but there's more work.
|
|
337
|
|
|
What is the time o' the day?
|
|
338
|
|
|
Ariel.
|
|
339
|
|
|
Past the mid season.
|
|
340
|
|
|
Prospero.
|
|
341
|
|
|
At least two glasses. The time 'twixt six and now
|
|
342
|
|
|
Must by us both be spent most preciously.
|
|
343
|
|
|
Ariel.
|
|
344
|
|
|
Is there more toil? Since thou dost give me pains,
|
|
345
|
|
|
Let me remember thee what thou hast promised,
|
|
346
|
|
|
Which is not yet perform'd me.
|
|
347
|
|
|
Prospero.
|
|
348
|
|
|
How now? moody?
|
|
349
|
|
|
What is't thou canst demand?
|
|
350
|
|
|
Ariel.
|
|
351
|
|
|
My liberty.
|
|
352
|
|
|
Prospero.
|
|
353
|
|
|
Before the time be out? no more!
|
|
354
|
|
|
Ariel.
|
|
355
|
|
|
I prithee,
|
|
356
|
|
|
Remember I have done thee worthy service;
|
|
357
|
|
|
Told thee no lies, made thee no mistakings, served
|
|
358
|
|
|
Without or grudge or grumblings: thou didst promise
|
|
359
|
|
|
To bate me a full year.
|
|
360
|
|
|
Prospero.
|
|
361
|
|
|
Dost thou forget
|
|
362
|
|
|
From what a torment I did free thee?
|
|
363
|
|
|
Ariel.
|
|
364
|
|
|
No.
|
|
365
|
|
|
Prospero.
|
|
366
|
|
|
Thou dost, and think'st it much to tread the ooze
|
|
367
|
|
|
Of the salt deep,
|
|
368
|
|
|
To run upon the sharp wind of the north,
|
|
369
|
|
|
To do me business in the veins o' the earth
|
|
370
|
|
|
When it is baked with frost.
|
|
371
|
|
|
Ariel.
|
|
372
|
|
|
I do not, sir.
|
|
373
|
|
|
Prospero.
|
|
374
|
|
|
Thou liest, malignant thing! Hast thou forgot
|
|
375
|
|
|
The foul witch Sycorax, who with age and envy
|
|
376
|
|
|
Was grown into a hoop? hast thou forgot her?
|
|
377
|
|
|
Ariel.
|
|
378
|
|
|
No, sir.
|
|
379
|
|
|
Prospero.
|
|
380
|
|
|
Thou hast. Where was she born? speak; tell me.
|
|
381
|
|
|
Ariel.
|
|
382
|
|
|
Sir, in Argier.
|
|
383
|
|
|
Prospero.
|
|
384
|
|
|
O, was she so? I must
|
|
385
|
|
|
Once in a month recount what thou hast been,
|
|
386
|
|
|
Which thou forget'st. This damn'd witch Sycorax,
|
|
387
|
|
|
For mischiefs manifold and sorceries terrible
|
|
388
|
|
|
To enter human hearing, from Argier,
|
|
389
|
|
|
Thou know'st, was banish'd: for one thing she did
|
|
390
|
|
|
They would not take her life. Is not this true?
|
|
391
|
|
|
Ariel.
|
|
392
|
|
|
Ay, sir.
|
|
393
|
|
|
Prospero.
|
|
394
|
|
|
This blue-eyed hag was hither brought with child
|
|
395
|
|
|
And here was left by the sailors. Thou, my slave,
|
|
396
|
|
|
As thou report'st thyself, wast then her servant;
|
|
397
|
|
|
And, for thou wast a spirit too delicate
|
|
398
|
|
|
To act her earthy and abhorr'd commands,
|
|
399
|
|
|
Refusing her grand hests, she did confine thee,
|
|
400
|
|
|
By help of her more potent ministers
|
|
401
|
|
|
And in her most unmitigable rage,
|
|
402
|
|
|
Into a cloven pine; within which rift
|
|
403
|
|
|
Imprison'd thou didst painfully remain
|
|
404
|
|
|
A dozen years; within which space she died
|
|
405
|
|
|
And left thee there; where thou didst vent thy groans
|
|
406
|
|
|
As fast as mill-wheels strike. Then was this island—
|
|
407
|
|
|
Save for the son that she did litter here,
|
|
408
|
|
|
A freckled whelp hag-born—not honour'd with
|
|
409
|
|
|
A human shape.
|
|
410
|
|
|
Ariel.
|
|
411
|
|
|
Yes, Caliban her son.
|
|
412
|
|
|
Prospero.
|
|
413
|
|
|
Dull thing, I say so; he, that Caliban
|
|
414
|
|
|
Whom now I keep in service. Thou best know'st
|
|
415
|
|
|
What torment I did find thee in; thy groans
|
|
416
|
|
|
Did make wolves howl and penetrate the breasts
|
|
417
|
|
|
Of ever angry bears: it was a torment
|
|
418
|
|
|
To lay upon the damn'd, which Sycorax
|
|
419
|
|
|
Could not again undo: it was mine art,
|
|
420
|
|
|
When I arrived and heard thee, that made gape
|
|
421
|
|
|
The pine and let thee out.
|
|
422
|
|
|
Ariel.
|
|
423
|
|
|
I thank thee, master.
|
|
424
|
|
|
Prospero.
|
|
425
|
|
|
If thou more murmur'st, I will rend an oak
|
|
426
|
|
|
And peg thee in his knotty entrails till
|
|
427
|
|
|
Thou hast howl'd away twelve winters.
|
|
428
|
|
|
Ariel.
|
|
429
|
|
|
Pardon, master;
|
|
430
|
|
|
I will be correspondent to command
|
|
431
|
|
|
And do my spiriting gently.
|
|
432
|
|
|
Prospero.
|
|
433
|
|
|
Do so, and after two days
|
|
434
|
|
|
I will discharge thee.
|
|
435
|
|
|
Ariel.
|
|
436
|
|
|
That's my noble master!
|
|
437
|
|
|
What shall I do? say what; what shall I do?
|
|
438
|
|
|
Prospero.
|
|
439
|
|
|
Go make thyself like a nymph o' the sea: be subject
|
|
440
|
|
|
To no sight but thine and mine, invisible
|
|
441
|
|
|
To every eyeball else. Go take this shape
|
|
442
|
|
|
And hither come in't: go, hence with diligence!
|
|
443
|
|
|
[Exit ARIEL]
|
|
444
|
|
|
Awake, dear heart, awake! thou hast slept well; Awake!
|
|
445
|
|
|
Miranda.
|
|
446
|
|
|
The strangeness of your story put
|
|
447
|
|
|
Heaviness in me.
|
|
448
|
|
|
Prospero.
|
|
449
|
|
|
Shake it off. Come on;
|
|
450
|
|
|
We'll visit Caliban my slave, who never
|
|
451
|
|
|
Yields us kind answer.
|
|
452
|
|
|
Miranda.
|
|
453
|
|
|
'Tis a villain, sir,
|
|
454
|
|
|
I do not love to look on.
|
|
455
|
|
|
Prospero.
|
|
456
|
|
|
But, as 'tis,
|
|
457
|
|
|
We cannot miss him: he does make our fire,
|
|
458
|
|
|
Fetch in our wood and serves in offices
|
|
459
|
|
|
That profit us. What, ho! slave! Caliban!
|
|
460
|
|
|
Thou earth, thou! speak.
|
|
461
|
|
|
Caliban.
|
|
462
|
|
|
[Within]There's wood enough within.
|
|
463
|
|
|
Prospero.
|
|
464
|
|
|
Come forth, I say! there's other business for thee:
|
|
465
|
|
|
Come, thou tortoise! when?
|
|
466
|
|
|
[Re-enter ARIEL like a water-nymph]
|
|
467
|
|
|
Fine apparition! My quaint Ariel,
|
|
468
|
|
|
Hark in thine ear.
|
|
469
|
|
|
Ariel.
|
|
470
|
|
|
My lord it shall be done.
|
| |
|
471
|
|
|
[Exit]
|
| |
|
472
|
|
|
Prospero.
|
|
473
|
|
|
Thou poisonous slave, got by the devil himself
|
|
474
|
|
|
Upon thy wicked dam, come forth!
|
| |
|
475
|
|
|
[Enter CALIBAN]
|
| |
|
476
|
|
|
Caliban.
|
|
477
|
|
|
As wicked dew as e'er my mother brush'd
|
|
478
|
|
|
With raven's feather from unwholesome fen
|
|
479
|
|
|
Drop on you both! a south-west blow on ye
|
|
480
|
|
|
And blister you all o'er!
|
|
481
|
|
|
Prospero.
|
|
482
|
|
|
For this, be sure, to-night thou shalt have cramps,
|
|
483
|
|
|
Side-stitches that shall pen thy breath up; urchins
|
|
484
|
|
|
Shall, for that vast of night that they may work,
|
|
485
|
|
|
All exercise on thee; thou shalt be pinch'd
|
|
486
|
|
|
As thick as honeycomb, each pinch more stinging
|
|
487
|
|
|
Than bees that made 'em.
|
|
488
|
|
|
Caliban.
|
|
489
|
|
|
I must eat my dinner.
|
|
490
|
|
|
This island's mine, by Sycorax my mother,
|
|
491
|
|
|
Which thou takest from me. When thou camest first,
|
|
492
|
|
|
Thou strokedst me and madest much of me, wouldst give me
|
|
493
|
|
|
Water with berries in't, and teach me how
|
|
494
|
|
|
To name the bigger light, and how the less,
|
|
495
|
|
|
That burn by day and night: and then I loved thee
|
|
496
|
|
|
And show'd thee all the qualities o' the isle,
|
|
497
|
|
|
The fresh springs, brine-pits, barren place and fertile:
|
|
498
|
|
|
Cursed be I that did so! All the charms
|
|
499
|
|
|
Of Sycorax, toads, beetles, bats, light on you!
|
|
500
|
|
|
For I am all the subjects that you have,
|
|
501
|
|
|
Which first was mine own king: and here you sty me
|
|
502
|
|
|
In this hard rock, whiles you do keep from me
|
|
503
|
|
|
The rest o' the island.
|
|
504
|
|
|
Prospero.
|
|
505
|
|
|
Thou most lying slave,
|
|
506
|
|
|
Whom stripes may move, not kindness! I have used thee,
|
|
507
|
|
|
Filth as thou art, with human care, and lodged thee
|
|
508
|
|
|
In mine own cell, till thou didst seek to violate
|
|
509
|
|
|
The honour of my child.
|
|
510
|
|
|
Caliban.
|
|
511
|
|
|
O ho, O ho! would't had been done!
|
|
512
|
|
|
Thou didst prevent me; I had peopled else
|
|
513
|
|
|
This isle with Calibans.
|
|
514
|
|
|
Miranda.
|
|
515
|
|
|
Abhorred slave,
|
|
516
|
|
|
Which any print of goodness wilt not take,
|
|
517
|
|
|
Being capable of all ill! I pitied thee,
|
|
518
|
|
|
Took pains to make thee speak, taught thee each hour
|
|
519
|
|
|
One thing or other: when thou didst not, savage,
|
|
520
|
|
|
Know thine own meaning, but wouldst gabble like
|
|
521
|
|
|
A thing most brutish, I endow'd thy purposes
|
|
522
|
|
|
With words that made them known. But thy vile race,
|
|
523
|
|
|
Though thou didst learn, had that in't which
|
|
524
|
|
|
good natures
|
|
525
|
|
|
Could not abide to be with; therefore wast thou
|
|
526
|
|
|
Deservedly confined into this rock,
|
|
527
|
|
|
Who hadst deserved more than a prison.
|
|
528
|
|
|
Caliban.
|
|
529
|
|
|
You taught me language; and my profit on't
|
|
530
|
|
|
Is, I know how to curse. The red plague rid you
|
|
531
|
|
|
For learning me your language!
|
|
532
|
|
|
Prospero.
|
|
533
|
|
|
Hag-seed, hence!
|
|
534
|
|
|
Fetch us in fuel; and be quick, thou'rt best,
|
|
535
|
|
|
To answer other business. Shrug'st thou, malice?
|
|
536
|
|
|
If thou neglect'st or dost unwillingly
|
|
537
|
|
|
What I command, I'll rack thee with old cramps,
|
|
538
|
|
|
Fill all thy bones with aches, make thee roar
|
|
539
|
|
|
That beasts shall tremble at thy din.
|
|
540
|
|
|
Caliban.
|
|
541
|
|
|
No, pray thee.
|
|
542
|
|
|
[Aside]
|
|
543
|
|
|
I must obey: his art is of such power,
|
|
544
|
|
|
It would control my dam's god, Setebos,
|
|
545
|
|
|
and make a vassal of him.
|
|
546
|
|
|
Prospero.
|
|
547
|
|
|
So, slave; hence!
|
|
548
|
|
|
[Exit CALIBAN]
|
|
549
|
|
|
[Re-enter ARIEL, invisible, playing and singing;]
|
|
550
|
|
|
FERDINAND following]
|
|
551
|
|
|
ARIEL'S song.
|
|
552
|
|
|
Come unto these yellow sands,
|
|
553
|
|
|
And then take hands:
|
|
554
|
|
|
Courtsied when you have and kiss'd
|
|
555
|
|
|
The wild waves whist,
|
|
556
|
|
|
Foot it featly here and there;
|
|
557
|
|
|
And, sweet sprites, the burthen bear.
|
|
558
|
|
|
Hark, hark!
|
|
559
|
|
|
[Burthen[dispersedly, within]Bow-wow]
|
|
560
|
|
|
The watch-dogs bark!
|
|
561
|
|
|
[Burthen Bow-wow]
|
|
562
|
|
|
Hark, hark! I hear
|
|
563
|
|
|
The strain of strutting chanticleer
|
|
564
|
|
|
Cry, Cock-a-diddle-dow.
|
|
565
|
|
|
Ferdinand.
|
|
566
|
|
|
Where should this music be? i' the air or the earth?
|
|
567
|
|
|
It sounds no more: and sure, it waits upon
|
|
568
|
|
|
Some god o' the island. Sitting on a bank,
|
|
569
|
|
|
Weeping again the king my father's wreck,
|
|
570
|
|
|
This music crept by me upon the waters,
|
|
571
|
|
|
Allaying both their fury and my passion
|
|
572
|
|
|
With its sweet air: thence I have follow'd it,
|
|
573
|
|
|
Or it hath drawn me rather. But 'tis gone.
|
|
574
|
|
|
No, it begins again.
|
|
575
|
|
|
[ARIEL sings]
|
|
576
|
|
|
Full fathom five thy father lies;
|
|
577
|
|
|
Of his bones are coral made;
|
|
578
|
|
|
Those are pearls that were his eyes:
|
|
579
|
|
|
Nothing of him that doth fade
|
|
580
|
|
|
But doth suffer a sea-change
|
|
581
|
|
|
Into something rich and strange.
|
|
582
|
|
|
Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell
|
|
583
|
|
|
[Burthen Ding-dong]
|
|
584
|
|
|
Hark! now I hear them,—Ding-dong, bell.
|
|
585
|
|
|
Ferdinand.
|
|
586
|
|
|
The ditty does remember my drown'd father.
|
|
587
|
|
|
This is no mortal business, nor no sound
|
|
588
|
|
|
That the earth owes. I hear it now above me.
|
|
589
|
|
|
Prospero.
|
|
590
|
|
|
The fringed curtains of thine eye advance
|
|
591
|
|
|
And say what thou seest yond.
|
|
592
|
|
|
Miranda.
|
|
593
|
|
|
What is't? a spirit?
|
|
594
|
|
|
Lord, how it looks about! Believe me, sir,
|
|
595
|
|
|
It carries a brave form. But 'tis a spirit.
|
|
596
|
|
|
Prospero.
|
|
597
|
|
|
No, wench; it eats and sleeps and hath such senses
|
|
598
|
|
|
As we have, such. This gallant which thou seest
|
|
599
|
|
|
Was in the wreck; and, but he's something stain'd
|
|
600
|
|
|
With grief that's beauty's canker, thou mightst call him
|
|
601
|
|
|
A goodly person: he hath lost his fellows
|
|
602
|
|
|
And strays about to find 'em.
|
|
603
|
|
|
Miranda.
|
|
604
|
|
|
I might call him
|
|
605
|
|
|
A thing divine, for nothing natural
|
|
606
|
|
|
I ever saw so noble.
|
|
607
|
|
|
Prospero.
|
|
608
|
|
|
[Aside]It goes on, I see,
|
|
609
|
|
|
As my soul prompts it. Spirit, fine spirit! I'll free thee
|
|
610
|
|
|
Within two days for this.
|
|
611
|
|
|
Ferdinand.
|
|
612
|
|
|
Most sure, the goddess
|
|
613
|
|
|
On whom these airs attend! Vouchsafe my prayer
|
|
614
|
|
|
May know if you remain upon this island;
|
|
615
|
|
|
And that you will some good instruction give
|
|
616
|
|
|
How I may bear me here: my prime request,
|
|
617
|
|
|
Which I do last pronounce, is, O you wonder!
|
|
618
|
|
|
If you be maid or no?
|
|
619
|
|
|
Miranda.
|
|
620
|
|
|
No wonder, sir;
|
|
621
|
|
|
But certainly a maid.
|
|
622
|
|
|
Ferdinand.
|
|
623
|
|
|
My language! heavens!
|
|
624
|
|
|
I am the best of them that speak this speech,
|
|
625
|
|
|
Were I but where 'tis spoken.
|
|
626
|
|
|
Prospero.
|
|
627
|
|
|
How? the best?
|
|
628
|
|
|
What wert thou, if the King of Naples heard thee?
|
|
629
|
|
|
Ferdinand.
|
|
630
|
|
|
A single thing, as I am now, that wonders
|
|
631
|
|
|
To hear thee speak of Naples. He does hear me;
|
|
632
|
|
|
And that he does I weep: myself am Naples,
|
|
633
|
|
|
Who with mine eyes, never since at ebb, beheld
|
|
634
|
|
|
The king my father wreck'd.
|
|
635
|
|
|
Miranda.
|
|
636
|
|
|
Alack, for mercy!
|
|
637
|
|
|
Ferdinand.
|
|
638
|
|
|
Yes, faith, and all his lords; the Duke of Milan
|
|
639
|
|
|
And his brave son being twain.
|
|
640
|
|
|
Prospero.
|
|
641
|
|
|
[Aside]The Duke of Milan
|
|
642
|
|
|
And his more braver daughter could control thee,
|
|
643
|
|
|
If now 'twere fit to do't. At the first sight
|
|
644
|
|
|
They have changed eyes. Delicate Ariel,
|
|
645
|
|
|
I'll set thee free for this.
|
|
646
|
|
|
[To FERDINAND]
|
|
647
|
|
|
A word, good sir;
|
|
648
|
|
|
I fear you have done yourself some wrong: a word.
|
|
649
|
|
|
Miranda.
|
|
650
|
|
|
Why speaks my father so ungently? This
|
|
651
|
|
|
Is the third man that e'er I saw, the first
|
|
652
|
|
|
That e'er I sigh'd for: pity move my father
|
|
653
|
|
|
To be inclined my way!
|
|
654
|
|
|
Ferdinand.
|
|
655
|
|
|
O, if a virgin,
|
|
656
|
|
|
And your affection not gone forth, I'll make you
|
|
657
|
|
|
The queen of Naples.
|
|
658
|
|
|
Prospero.
|
|
659
|
|
|
Soft, sir! one word more.
|
|
660
|
|
|
[Aside]
|
|
661
|
|
|
They are both in either's powers; but this swift business
|
|
662
|
|
|
I must uneasy make, lest too light winning
|
|
663
|
|
|
Make the prize light.
|
|
664
|
|
|
[To FERDINAND]
|
|
665
|
|
|
One word more; I charge thee
|
|
666
|
|
|
That thou attend me: thou dost here usurp
|
|
667
|
|
|
The name thou owest not; and hast put thyself
|
|
668
|
|
|
Upon this island as a spy, to win it
|
|
669
|
|
|
From me, the lord on't.
|
|
670
|
|
|
Ferdinand.
|
|
671
|
|
|
No, as I am a man.
|
|
672
|
|
|
Miranda.
|
|
673
|
|
|
There's nothing ill can dwell in such a temple:
|
|
674
|
|
|
If the ill spirit have so fair a house,
|
|
675
|
|
|
Good things will strive to dwell with't.
|
|
676
|
|
|
Prospero.
|
|
677
|
|
|
Follow me.
|
|
678
|
|
|
Speak not you for him; he's a traitor. Come;
|
|
679
|
|
|
I'll manacle thy neck and feet together:
|
|
680
|
|
|
Sea-water shalt thou drink; thy food shall be
|
|
681
|
|
|
The fresh-brook muscles, wither'd roots and husks
|
|
682
|
|
|
Wherein the acorn cradled. Follow.
|
|
683
|
|
|
Ferdinand.
|
|
684
|
|
|
No;
|
|
685
|
|
|
I will resist such entertainment till
|
|
686
|
|
|
Mine enemy has more power.
|
| |
|
687
|
|
|
[Draws, and is charmed from moving]
|
| |
|
688
|
|
|
Miranda.
|
|
689
|
|
|
O dear father,
|
|
690
|
|
|
Make not too rash a trial of him, for
|
|
691
|
|
|
He's gentle and not fearful.
|
|
692
|
|
|
Prospero.
|
|
693
|
|
|
What? I say,
|
|
694
|
|
|
My foot my tutor? Put thy sword up, traitor;
|
|
695
|
|
|
Who makest a show but darest not strike, thy conscience
|
|
696
|
|
|
Is so possess'd with guilt: come from thy ward,
|
|
697
|
|
|
For I can here disarm thee with this stick
|
|
698
|
|
|
And make thy weapon drop.
|
|
699
|
|
|
Miranda.
|
|
700
|
|
|
Beseech you, father.
|
|
701
|
|
|
Prospero.
|
|
702
|
|
|
Hence! hang not on my garments.
|
|
703
|
|
|
Miranda.
|
|
704
|
|
|
Sir, have pity;
|
|
705
|
|
|
I'll be his surety.
|
|
706
|
|
|
Prospero.
|
|
707
|
|
|
Silence! one word more
|
|
708
|
|
|
Shall make me chide thee, if not hate thee. What!
|
|
709
|
|
|
An advocate for an imposter! hush!
|
|
710
|
|
|
Thou think'st there is no more such shapes as he,
|
|
711
|
|
|
Having seen but him and Caliban: foolish wench!
|
|
712
|
|
|
To the most of men this is a Caliban
|
|
713
|
|
|
And they to him are angels.
|
|
714
|
|
|
Miranda.
|
|
715
|
|
|
My affections
|
|
716
|
|
|
Are then most humble; I have no ambition
|
|
717
|
|
|
To see a goodlier man.
|
|
718
|
|
|
Prospero.
|
|
719
|
|
|
Come on; obey:
|
|
720
|
|
|
Thy nerves are in their infancy again
|
|
721
|
|
|
And have no vigour in them.
|
|
722
|
|
|
Ferdinand.
|
|
723
|
|
|
So they are;
|
|
724
|
|
|
My spirits, as in a dream, are all bound up.
|
|
725
|
|
|
My father's loss, the weakness which I feel,
|
|
726
|
|
|
The wreck of all my friends, nor this man's threats,
|
|
727
|
|
|
To whom I am subdued, are but light to me,
|
|
728
|
|
|
Might I but through my prison once a day
|
|
729
|
|
|
Behold this maid: all corners else o' the earth
|
|
730
|
|
|
Let liberty make use of; space enough
|
|
731
|
|
|
Have I in such a prison.
|
|
732
|
|
|
Prospero.
|
|
733
|
|
|
[Aside]It works.
|
|
734
|
|
|
[To FERDINAND]
|
|
735
|
|
|
Come on.
|
|
736
|
|
|
Thou hast done well, fine Ariel!
|
|
737
|
|
|
[To FERDINAND]
|
|
738
|
|
|
Follow me.
|
|
739
|
|
|
[To ARIEL]
|
|
740
|
|
|
Hark what thou else shalt do me.
|
|
741
|
|
|
Miranda.
|
|
742
|
|
|
Be of comfort;
|
|
743
|
|
|
My father's of a better nature, sir,
|
|
744
|
|
|
Than he appears by speech: this is unwonted
|
|
745
|
|
|
Which now came from him.
|
|
746
|
|
|
Prospero.
|
|
747
|
|
|
Thou shalt be free
|
|
748
|
|
|
As mountain winds: but then exactly do
|
|
749
|
|
|
All points of my command.
|
|
750
|
|
|
Ariel.
|
|
751
|
|
|
To the syllable.
|
|
752
|
|
|
Prospero.
|
|
753
|
|
|
Come, follow. Speak not for him.
|
| |
