[Transcriber's Note:
This e-text is for readers who cannot use the "real" (unicode, utf-8)
version of the file. A few changes have been made. In particular,
the ligatures "ae" and "oe" have been unpacked to two letters. In
Notes XI and XVIII, stressed syllables originally printed with accent
marks over the relevant vowels are here shown in ALL CAPITALS.
The text of _The Tempest_ is from Volume I of the nine-volume 1863
Cambridge edition of Shakespeare. The Preface (e-text 23041) and the
other plays from this volume are each available as separate e-texts.
General Notes are in their original location at the end of the play.
Text-critical notes are grouped at the end of each Scene. All line
numbers are from the original text; line breaks in dialogue--including
prose passages--are unchanged. Brackets are also unchanged; to avoid
ambiguity, footnotes and linenotes are given without added brackets.
In the notes, numerals printed as subscripts are shown inline as
F1, F2, Q1....
Texts cited in the Notes are listed at the end of the e-text.]
THE WORKS
of
WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE
Edited by
WILLIAM GEORGE CLARK, M.A.
Fellow and Tutor of Trinity College, and Public Orator
in the University of Cambridge;
and JOHN GLOVER, M.A.
Librarian Of Trinity College, Cambridge.
_VOLUME I._
Cambridge and London:
MACMILLAN AND CO.
1863.
THE TEMPEST.
DRAMATIS PERSONAE[1].
ALONSO, King of Naples.
SEBASTIAN, his brother.
PROSPERO, the right Duke of Milan.
ANTONIO, his brother, the usurping Duke of Milan.
FERDINAND, son to the King of Naples.
GONZALO, an honest old Counsellor.
ADRIAN, Lord
FRANCISCO, "
CALIBAN, a savage and deformed Slave.
TRINCULO, a Jester.
STEPHANO, a drunken Butler.
Master of a Ship.
Boatswain.
Mariners.
MIRANDA, daughter to Prospero.
ARIEL, an airy Spirit.
IRIS, presented by[2] Spirits.
CERES, " "
JUNO, " "
Nymphs, " "
Reapers, " "
Other Spirits attending on Prospero[3].
SCENE--_A ship at sea[4]: an uninhabited island._
Footnotes:
1: DRAMATIS PERSONAE] NAMES OF THE ACTORS F1 at the end of the Play.
2: _presented by_] Edd.
3: _Other ... Prospero_] Theobald.
4: A ship at sea:] At sea: Capell.]
THE TEMPEST.
ACT I.
SCENE I. _On a ship at sea: a tempestuous noise of thunder
and lightning heard._
_Enter _a Ship-Master_ and _a Boatswain_._
_Mast._ Boatswain!
_Boats._ Here, master: what cheer?
_Mast._ Good, speak to the mariners: fall to't, yarely, or
we run ourselves aground: bestir, bestir. [_Exit._
_Enter _Mariners_._
_Boats._ Heigh, my hearts! cheerly, cheerly, my hearts! 5
yare, yare! Take in the topsail. Tend to the master's
whistle. Blow, till thou burst thy wind, if room enough!
_Enter ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, FERDINAND, GONZALO,
and others._
_Alon._ Good boatswain, have care. Where's the master?
Play the men.
_Boats._ I pray now, keep below. 10
_Ant._ Where is the master, boatswain?
_Boats._ Do you not hear him? You mar our labour:
keep your cabins: you do assist the storm.
_Gon._ Nay, good, be patient.
_Boats._ When the sea is. Hence! What cares these 15
roarers for the name of king? To cabin: silence! trouble
us not.
_Gon._ Good, yet remember whom thou hast aboard.
_Boats._ None that I more love than myself. You are a
Counsellor; if you can command these elements to silence, 20
and work the peace of the present, we will not hand a rope
more; use your authority: if you cannot, give thanks you
have lived so long, and make yourself ready in your cabin
for the mischance of the hour, if it so hap. Cheerly, good
hearts! Out of our way, I say. [_Exit._ 25
_Gon._ I have great comfort from this fellow: methinks
he hath no drowning mark upon him; his complexion is
perfect gallows. Stand fast, good Fate, to his hanging:
make the rope of his destiny our cable, for our own doth
little advantage. If he be not born to be hanged, our case 30
is miserable. [_Exeunt._
_Re-enter Boatswain._
_Boats._ Down with the topmast! yare! lower, lower!
Bring her to try with main-course. [_A cry within._] A
plague upon this howling! they are louder than the weather
or our office. 35
_Re-enter SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, and GONZALO._
Yet again! what do you here? Shall we give o'er, and
drown? Have you a mind to sink?
_Seb._ A pox o' your throat, you bawling, blasphemous,
incharitable dog!
_Boats._ Work you, then. 40
_Ant._ Hang, cur! hang, you whoreson, insolent noise-maker.
We are less afraid to be drowned than thou art.
_Gon._ I'll warrant him for drowning; though the ship
were no stronger than a nutshell, and as leaky as an unstanched
wench. 45
_Boats._ Lay her a-hold, a-hold! set her two courses off
to sea again; lay her off.
_Enter _Mariners_ wet._
_Mariners._ All lost! to prayers, to prayers! all lost!
_Boats._ What, must our mouths be cold?
_Gon._ The king and prince at prayers! let's assist them, 50
For our case is as theirs.
_Seb._ I'm out of patience.
_Ant._ We are merely cheated of our lives by drunkards:
This wide-chapp'd rascal,--would thou mightst lie drowning
The washing of ten tides!
_Gon._ He'll be hang'd yet,
Though every drop of water swear against it, 55
And gape at widest to glut him.
[_A confused noise within:_ "Mercy on us!"--
"We split, we split!"-- "Farewell my wife and children!"--
"Farewell, brother!"-- "We split, we split, we split!"]
_Ant._ Let's all sink with the king. 60
_Seb._ Let's take leave of him. [_Exeunt Ant. and Seb._
_Gon._ Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea for
an acre of barren ground, long heath, brown furze, any
thing. The wills above be done! but I would fain die a
dry death. [_Exeunt._ 65
Notes: I, 1.
SC. I. On a ship at sea] Pope.
Enter ... Boatswain] Collier MS. adds 'shaking off wet.'
3: _Good,_] Rowe. _Good:_ Ff. _Good._ Collier.
7: _till thou burst thy wind_] _till thou burst, wind_ Johnson conj.
_till thou burst thee, wind_ Steevens conj.
8: Capell adds stage direction [Exeunt Mariners aloft.
11: _boatswain_] Pope. _boson_ Ff.
11-18: Verse. S. Walker conj.
15: _cares_] _care_ Rowe. See note (I).
31: [Exeunt] Theobald. [Exit. Ff.
33: _Bring her to try_] F4. _Bring her to Try_ F1 F2 F3.
_Bring her to. Try_ Story conj.
33-35: Text as in Capell. _A plague_--A cry within. Enter Sebastian,
Anthonio, and Gonzalo. _upon this howling._ Ff.
34-37: Verse. S. Walker conj.
43: _for_] _from_ Theobald.
46: _two courses off to sea_] _two courses; off to sea_ Steevens
(Holt conj.).
46: [Enter...] [Re-enter... Dyce.
47: [Exeunt. Theobald.
50: _at_] _are at_ Rowe.
50-54: Printed as prose in Ff.
56: _to glut_] _t' englut_ Johnson conj.
57: See note (II).
59: _Farewell, brother!_] _Brother, farewell!_ Theobald.
60: _with the_] Rowe. _with'_ F1 F2. _with_ F3 F4.
61: [Exeunt A. and S.] [Exit. Ff.
63: _furze_ Rowe. _firrs_ F1 F2 F3. _firs_ F4.
_long heath, brown furze_] _ling, heath, broom, furze_ Hanmer.]
65: [Exeunt] [Exit F1, om. F2 F3 F4.]
SCENE II. _The island. Before PROSPERO'S cell._
_Enter PROSPERO and MIRANDA._
_Mir._ If by your art, my dearest father, you have
Put the wild waters in this roar, allay them.
The sky, it seems, would pour down stinking pitch,
But that the sea, mounting to the welkin's cheek,
Dashes the fire out. O, I have suffer'd 5
With those that I saw suffer! a brave vessel,
Who had, no doubt, some noble creature in her,
Dash'd all to pieces. O, the cry did knock
Against my very heart! Poor souls, they perish'd!
Had I been any god of power, I would 10
Have sunk the sea within the earth, or ere
It should the good ship so have swallow'd and
The fraughting souls within her.
_Pros._ Be collected:
No more amazement: tell your piteous heart
There's no harm done.
_Mir._ O, woe the day!
_Pros._ No harm. 15
I have done nothing but in care of thee,
Of thee, my dear one, thee, my daughter, who
Art ignorant of what thou art, nought knowing
Of whence I am, nor that I am more better
Than Prospero, master of a full poor cell, 20
And thy no greater father.
_Mir._ More to know
Did never meddle with my thoughts.
_Pros._ 'Tis time
I should inform thee farther. Lend thy hand,
And pluck my magic garment from me. --So:
[_Lays down his mantle._
Lie there, my art. Wipe thou thine eyes; have comfort. 25
The direful spectacle of the wreck, which touch'd
The very virtue of compassion in thee,
I have with such provision in mine art
So safely order'd, that there is no soul,
No, not so much perdition as an hair 30
Betid to any creature in the vessel
Which thou heard'st cry, which thou saw'st sink. Sit down;
For thou must now know farther.
_Mir._ You have often
Begun to tell me what I am; but stopp'd,
And left me to a bootless inquisition, 35
Concluding "Stay: not yet."
_Pros._ The hour's now come;
The very minute bids thee ope thine ear;
Obey, and be attentive. Canst thou remember
A time before we came unto this cell?
I do not think thou canst, for then thou wast not 40
Out three years old.
_Mir._ Certainly, sir, I can.
_Pros._ By what? by any other house or person?
Of any thing the image tell me that
Hath kept with thy remembrance.
_Mir._ 'Tis far off,
And rather like a dream than an assurance 45
That my remembrance warrants. Had I not
Four or five women once that tended me?
_Pros._ Thou hadst, and more, Miranda. But how is it
That this lives in thy mind? What seest thou else
In the dark backward and abysm of time? 50
If thou remember'st ought ere thou camest here,
How thou camest here thou mayst.
_Mir._ But that I do not.
_Pros._ Twelve year since, Miranda, twelve year since,
Thy father was the Duke of Milan, and
A prince of power.
_Mir._ Sir, are not you my father? 55
_Pros._ Thy mother was a piece of virtue, and
She said thou wast my daughter; and thy father
Was Duke of Milan; and his only heir
And princess, no worse issued.
_Mir._ O the heavens!
What foul play had we, that we came from thence? 60
Or blessed was't we did?
_Pros._ Both, both, my girl:
By foul play, as thou say'st, were we heaved thence;
But blessedly holp hither.
_Mir._ O, my heart bleeds
To think o' the teen that I have turn'd you to.
Which is from my remembrance! Please you, farther. 65
_Pros._ My brother, and thy uncle, call'd Antonio,--
I pray thee, mark me,--that a brother should
Be so perfidious!--he whom, next thyself,
Of all the world I loved, and to him put
The manage of my state; as, at that time, 70
Through all the signories it was the first,
And Prospero the prime duke, being so reputed
In dignity, and for the liberal arts
Without a parallel; those being all my study,
The government I cast upon my brother, 75
And to my state grew stranger, being transported
And rapt in secret studies. Thy false uncle--
Dost thou attend me?
_Mir._ Sir, most heedfully.
_Pros._ Being once perfected how to grant suits,
How to deny them, whom to advance, and whom 80
To trash for over-topping, new created
The creatures that were mine, I say, or changed 'em,
Or else new form'd 'em; having both the key
Of officer and office, set all hearts i' the state
To what tune pleased his ear; that now he was 85
The ivy which had hid my princely trunk,
And suck'd my verdure out on't. Thou attend'st not.
_Mir._ O, good sir, I do.
_Pros._ I pray thee, mark me.
I, thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicated
To closeness and the bettering of my mind 90
With that which, but by being so retired,
O'er-prized all popular rate, in my false brother
Awaked an evil nature; and my trust,
Like a good parent, did beget of him
A falsehood in its contrary, as great 95
As my trust was; which had indeed no limit,
A confidence sans bound. He being thus lorded,
Not only with what my revenue yielded,
But what my power might else exact, like one
Who having into truth, by telling of it, 100
Made such a sinner of his memory,
To credit his own lie, he did believe
He was indeed the duke; out o' the substitution,
And executing the outward face of royalty,
With all prerogative:--hence his ambition growing,-- 105
Dost thou hear?
_Mir._ Your tale, sir, would cure deafness.
_Pros._ To have no screen between this part he play'd
And him he play'd it for, he needs will be
Absolute Milan. Me, poor man, my library
Was dukedom large enough: of temporal royalties 110
He thinks me now incapable; confederates,
So dry he was for sway, wi' the King of Naples
To give him annual tribute, do him homage,
Subject his coronet to his crown, and bend
The dukedom, yet unbow'd,--alas, poor Milan!-- 115
To most ignoble stooping.
_Mir._ O the heavens!
_Pros._ Mark his condition, and th' event; then tell me
If this might be a brother.
_Mir._ I should sin
To think but nobly of my grandmother:
Good wombs have borne bad sons.
_Pros._ Now the condition. 120
This King of Naples, being an enemy
To me inveterate, hearkens my brother's suit;
Which was, that he, in lieu o' the premises,
Of homage and I know not how much tribute,
Should presently extirpate me and mine 125
Out of the dukedom, and confer fair Milan,
With all the honours, on my brother: whereon,
A treacherous army levied, one midnight
Fated to the purpose, did Antonio open
The gates of Milan; and, i' the dead of darkness, 130
The ministers for the purpose hurried thence
Me and thy crying self.
_Mir._ Alack, for pity!
I, not remembering how I cried out then,
Will cry it o'er again: it is a hint
That wrings mine eyes to't.
_Pros._ Hear a little further, 135
And then I'll bring thee to the present business
Which now's upon 's; without the which, this story
Were most impertinent.
_Mir._ Wherefore did they not
That hour destroy us?
_Pros._ Well demanded, wench:
My tale provokes that question. Dear, they durst not, 140
So dear the love my people bore me; nor set
A mark so bloody on the business; but
With colours fairer painted their foul ends.
In few, they hurried us aboard a bark,
Bore us some leagues to sea; where they prepared 145
A rotten carcass of a boat, not rigg'd,
Nor tackle, sail, nor mast; the very rats
Instinctively have quit it: there they hoist us,
To cry to the sea that roar'd to us; to sigh
To the winds, whose pity, sighing back again, 150
Did us but loving wrong.
_Mir._ Alack, what trouble
Was I then to you!
_Pros._ O, a cherubin
Thou wast that did preserve me. Thou didst smile,
Infused with a fortitude from heaven,
When I have deck'd the sea with drops full salt, 155
Under my burthen groan'd; which raised in me
An undergoing stomach, to bear up
Against what should ensue.
_Mir._ How came we ashore?
_Pros._ By Providence divine.
Some food we had, and some fresh water, that 160
A noble Neapolitan, Gonzalo,
Out of his charity, who being then appointed
Master of this design, did give us, with
Rich garments, linens, stuffs and necessaries,
Which since have steaded much; so, of his gentleness, 165
Knowing I loved my books, he furnish'd me
From mine own library with volumes that
I prize above my dukedom.
_Mir._ Would I might
But ever see that man!
_Pros._ Now I arise: [_Resumes his mantle._
Sit still, and hear the last of our sea-sorrow. 170
Here in this island we arrived; and here
Have I, thy schoolmaster, made thee more profit
Than other princesses can, that have more time
For vainer hours, and tutors not so careful.
_Mir._ Heavens thank you for't! And now, I pray you, sir, 175
For still 'tis beating in my mind, your reason
For raising this sea-storm?
_Pros._ Know thus far forth.
By accident most strange, bountiful Fortune,
Now my dear lady, hath mine enemies
Brought to this shore; and by my prescience 180
I find my zenith doth depend upon
A most auspicious star, whose influence
If now I court not, but omit, my fortunes
Will ever after droop. Here cease more questions:
Thou art inclined to sleep; 'tis a good dulness, 185
And give it way: I know thou canst not choose.
[_Miranda sleeps._
Come away, servant, come. I am ready now.
Approach, my Ariel, come.
_Enter _ARIEL_._
_Ari._ All hail, great master! grave sir, hail! I come
To answer thy best pleasure; be't to fly, 190
To swim, to dive into the fire, to ride
On the curl'd clouds, to thy strong bidding task
Ariel and all his quality.
_Pros._ Hast thou, spirit,
Perform'd to point the tempest that I bade thee?
_Ari._ To every article. 195
I boarded the king's ship; now on the beak,
Now in the waist, the deck, in every cabin,
I flamed amazement: sometime I'ld divide,
And burn in many places; on the topmast,
The yards and bowsprit, would I flame distinctly, 200
Then meet and join. Jove's lightnings, the precursors
O' the dreadful thunder-claps, more momentary
And sight-outrunning were not: the fire and cracks
Of sulphurous roaring the most mighty Neptune
Seem to besiege, and make his bold waves tremble, 205
Yea, his dread trident shake.
_Pros._ My brave spirit!
Who was so firm, so constant, that this coil
Would not infect his reason?
_Ari._ Not a soul
But felt a fever of the mad, and play'd
Some tricks of desperation. All but mariners 210
Plunged in the foaming brine, and quit the vessel,
Then all afire with me: the king's son, Ferdinand,
With hair up-staring,--then like reeds, not hair,--
Was the first man that leap'd; cried, "Hell is empty,
And all the devils are here."
_Pros._ Why, that's my spirit! 215
But was not this nigh shore?
_Ari._ Close by, my master.
_Pros._ But are they, Ariel, safe?
_Ari._ Not a hair perish'd;
On their sustaining garments not a blemish,
But fresher than before: and, as thou badest me,
In troops I have dispersed them 'bout the isle. 220
The king's son have I landed by himself;
Whom I left cooling of the air with sighs
In an odd angle of the isle, and sitting,
His arms in this sad knot.
_Pros._ Of the king's ship
The mariners, say how thou hast disposed, 225
And all the rest o' the fleet.
_Ari._ Safely in harbour
Is the king's ship; in the deep nook, where once
Thou call'dst me up at midnight to fetch dew
From the still-vex'd Bermoothes, there she's hid:
The mariners all under hatches stow'd; 230
Who, with a charm join'd to their suffer'd labour,
I have left asleep: and for the rest o' the fleet,
Which I dispersed, they all have met again,
And are upon the Mediterranean flote,
Bound sadly home for Naples; 235
Supposing that they saw the king's ship wreck'd,
And his great person perish.
_Pros._ Ariel, thy charge
Exactly is perform'd: but there's more work.
What is the time o' the day?
_Ari._ Past the mid season.
_Pros._ At least two glasses. The time 'twixt six and now 240
Must by us both be spent most preciously.
_Ari._ Is there more toil? Since thou dost give me pains,
Let me remember thee what thou hast promised,
Which is not yet perform'd me.
_Pros._ How now? moody?
What is't thou canst demand?
_Ari._ My liberty. 245
_Pros._ Before the time be out? no more!
_Ari._ I prithee,
Remember I have done thee worthy service;
Told thee no lies, made thee no mistakings, served
Without or grudge or grumblings: thou didst promise
To bate me a full year.
_Pros._ Dost thou forget 250
From what a torment I did free thee?
_Ari._ No.
_Pros._ Thou dost; and think'st it much to tread the ooze
Of the salt deep,
To run upon the sharp wind of the north,
To do me business in the veins o' the earth 255
When it is baked with frost.
_Ari._ I do not, sir.
_Pros._ Thou liest, malignant thing! Hast thou forgot
The foul witch Sycorax, who with age and envy
Was grown into a hoop? hast thou forgot her?
_Ari._ No, sir.
_Pros._ Thou hast. Where was she born? speak; tell me. 260
_Ari._ Sir, in Argier.
_Pros._ O, was she so? I must
Once in a month recount what thou hast been,
Which thou forget'st. This damn'd witch Sycorax,
For mischiefs manifold, and sorceries terrible
To enter human hearing, from Argier, 265
Thou know'st, was banish'd: for one thing she did
They would not take her life. Is not this true?
_Ari._ Ay, sir.
_Pros._ This blue-eyed hag was hither brought with child,
And here was left by the sailors. Thou, my slave, 270
As thou report'st thyself, wast then her servant;
And, for thou wast a spirit too delicate
To act her earthy and abhorr'd commands,
Refusing her grand hests, she did confine thee,
By help of her more potent ministers, 275
And in her most unmitigable rage,
Into a cloven pine; within which rift
Imprison'd thou didst painfully remain
A dozen years; within which space she died,
And left thee there; where thou didst vent thy groans 280
As fast as mill-wheels strike. Then was this island--
Save for the son that she did litter here,
A freckled whelp hag-born--not honour'd with
A human shape.
_Ari._ Yes, Caliban her son.
_Pros._ Dull thing, I say so; he, that Caliban, 285
Whom now I keep in service. Thou best know'st
What torment I did find thee in; thy groans
Did make wolves howl, and penetrate the breasts
Of ever-angry bears: it was a torment
To lay upon the damn'd, which Sycorax 290
Could not again undo: it was mine art,
When I arrived and heard thee, that made gape
The pine, and let thee out.
_Ari._ I thank thee, master.
_Pros._ If thou more murmur'st, I will rend an oak,
And peg thee in his knotty entrails, till 295
Thou hast howl'd away twelve winters.
_Ari._ Pardon, master:
I will be correspondent to command,
And do my spiriting gently.
_Pros._ 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? 300
_Pros._ Go make thyself like a nymph o' the sea:
Be subject to no sight but thine and mine; invisible
To every eyeball else. Go take this shape,
And hither come in't: go, hence with diligence!
[_Exit Ariel._
Awake, dear heart, awake! thou hast slept well; 305
Awake!
_Mir._ The strangeness of your story put
Heaviness in me.
_Pros._ Shake it off. Come on;
We'll visit Caliban my slave, who never
Yields us kind answer.
_Mir._ 'Tis a villain, sir,
I do not love to look on.
_Pros._ But, as 'tis, 310
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.
_Pros._ Come forth, I say! there's other business for thee: 315
Come, 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._
_Pros._ Thou poisonous slave, got by the devil himself
Upon thy wicked dam, come forth! 320
_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!
_Pros._ For this, be sure, to-night thou shalt have cramps, 325
Side-stitches that shall pen thy breath up; urchins
Shall, for that vast of night that they may work,
All exercise on thee; thou shalt be pinch'd
As thick as honeycomb, each pinch more stinging
Than bees that made 'em.
_Cal._ I must eat my dinner. 330
This island's mine, by Sycorax my mother,
Which thou takest from me. When thou camest first,
Thou strokedst me, and madest much of me; wouldst give me
Water with berries in't; and teach me how
To name the bigger light, and how the less, 335
That burn by day and night: and then I loved thee,
And show'd thee all the qualities o' th' isle,
The fresh springs, brine-pits, barren place and fertile:
Curs'd be I that did so! All the charms
Of Sycorax, toads, beetles, bats, light on you! 340
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' th' island.
_Pros._ Thou most lying slave,
Whom stripes may move, not kindness! I have used thee, 345
Filth as thou art, with human care; and lodged thee
In mine own cell, till thou didst seek to violate
The honour of my child.
_Cal._ O ho, O ho! would 't had been done!
Thou didst prevent me; I had peopled else 350
This isle with Calibans.
_Pros._ Abhorred slave,
Which any print of goodness wilt not take,
Being capable of all ill! I pitied thee,
Took pains to make thee speak, taught thee each hour
One thing or other: when thou didst not, savage, 355
Know thine own meaning, but wouldst gabble like
A thing most brutish, I endow'd thy purposes
With words that made them known. But thy vile race,
Though thou didst learn, had that in't which good natures
Could not abide to be with; therefore wast thou 360
Deservedly confined into this rock,
Who hadst deserved more than a prison.
_Cal._ You taught me language; and my profit on't
Is, I know how to curse. The red plague rid you
For learning me your language!
_Pros._ Hag-seed, hence! 365
Fetch us in fuel; and be quick, thou'rt best,
To answer other business. Shrug'st thou, malice?
If thou neglect'st, or dost unwillingly
What I command, I'll rack thee with old cramps,
Fill all thy bones with aches, make thee roar, 370
That beasts shall tremble at thy din.
_Cal._ No, pray thee.
[_Aside_] I must obey: his art is of such power,
It would control my dam's god, Setebos,
And make a vassal of him.
_Pros._ So, slave; hence! [_Exit Caliban._
_Re-enter ARIEL, invisible, playing and singing; FERDINAND
following._
_ARIEL'S song._
Come unto these yellow sands, 375
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. 380
_Burthen_ [_dispersedly_]. Hark, hark!
Bow-wow.
The watch-dogs bark:
Bow-wow.
_Ari._ Hark, hark! I hear
The strain of strutting chanticleer 385
Cry, Cock-a-diddle-dow.
_Fer._ Where should this music be? i' th' air or th' earth?
It sounds no more: and, sure, it waits upon
Some god o' th' island. Sitting on a bank,
Weeping again the king my father's wreck, 390
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. 395
_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 400
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. 405
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 advance,
And say what thou seest yond.
_Mir._ What is't? a spirit?
Lord, how it looks about! Believe me, sir, 410
It carries a brave form. But 'tis a spirit.
_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 415
A goodly person: he hath lost his fellows,
And strays about to find 'em.
_Mir._ I might call him
A thing divine; for nothing natural
I ever saw so noble.
_Pros._ [_Aside_] It goes on, I see,
As my soul prompts it. Spirit, fine spirit! I'll free thee 420
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, 425
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? 430
What wert thou, if the King of Naples heard thee?
_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 435
The king my father wreck'd.
_Mir._ Alack, for mercy!
_Fer._ Yes, faith, and all his lords; the Duke of Milan
And his brave son being twain.
_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 440
They have changed eyes. Delicate Ariel,
I'll set thee free for this. [_To Fer._] A word, good sir;
I fear you have done yourself some wrong: a word.
_Mir._ Why speaks my father so ungently? This
Is the third man that e'er I saw; the first 445
That e'er I sigh'd for: pity move my father
To be inclined my way!
_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 business 450
I must uneasy make, lest too light winning
Make the prize light. [_To Fer._] 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 455
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.
_Pros._ Follow me.
Speak not you for him; he's a traitor. Come; 460
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 till 465
Mine enemy has more power.
[_Draws, and is charmed from moving._
_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 conscience 470
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.
_Pros._ Silence! one word more 475
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, 480
And they to him are angels.
_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 again,
And have no vigour in them.
_Fer._ So they are: 485
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 490
Behold this maid: all corners else o' th' earth
Let liberty make use of; space enough
Have I in such a prison.
_Pros._ [_Aside_] It works. [_To Fer._] Come on.
Thou hast done well, fine Ariel! [_To Fer._] Follow me.
[_To Ari._] Hark what thou else shalt do me.
_Mir._ Be of comfort; 495
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 free
As mountain winds: but then exactly do
All points of my command.
_Ari._ To the syllable. 500
_Pros._ Come, follow. Speak not for him. [_Exeunt._
Notes: I, 2.
3: _stinking_] _flaming_ Singer conj. _kindling_ S. Verges conj.
4: _cheek_] _heat_ Collier MS. _crack_ Staunton conj.
7: _creature_] _creatures_ Theobald.
13: _fraughting_] Ff. _fraighted_ Pope. _fraighting_ Theobald.
_freighting_ Steevens.
15: Mir. _O, woe the day!_ Pros. _No harm._] Mir. _O woe the day!
no harm?_ Johnson conj.
19: _I am more better_] _I'm more or better_ Pope.
24: [Lays ... mantle] Pope.
28: _provision_] F1. _compassion_ F2 F3 F4. _prevision_ Hunter conj.
29: _soul_] _soul lost_ Rowe. _foyle_ Theobald. _soil_ Johnson conj.
_loss_ Capell. _foul_ Wright conj.
31: _betid_] F1. _betide_ F2 F3 F4.
35: _a_] F1. _the_ F2 F3 F4.
38: _thou_] om. Pope.
41: _Out_] _Full_ Pope (after Dryden). _Quite_ Collier MS.
44: _with_] _in_ Pope (after Dryden).
53: _Twelve year ... year_] _Tis twelve years ... years_ Pope.
58, 59: _and his only heir And princess_] _and his only heir
A princess_ Pope. _thou his only heir And princess_ Steevens.
_and though his only heir A princess_] Johnson conj.
63: _holp_] _help'd_ Pope.
_O, my heart_] _My heart_ Pope.
78: _me_] om. F3 F4.
80: _whom ... whom_] F2 F3 F4. _who ... who_ F1.
81: _trash_] _plash_ Hanmer.
82, 83: _'em ... 'em_] _them ... them_ Capell.
84: _i' the state_] _i'th state_ F1. _e'th state_ F2.
_o'th state_ F3 F4. om. Pope.
88: _O, good sir ... mark me._] _Good sir ... mark me then._ Pope.
_O yes, good sir ... mark me._ Capell.
Mir. _O, ... do._ Pros. _I ... me_] _I ... me._ Mir. _O ... do._
Steevens.
89: _dedicated_] _dedicate_ Steevens (Ritson conj.).
91: _so_] F1. om. F2 F3 F4.
97: _lorded_] _loaded_ Collier MS.
99: _exact, like_] _exact. Like_ Ff.
100: _having into truth ... of it_] _loving an untruth, and telling
't oft_ Hanmer. _having unto truth ... oft_ Warburton. _having to
untruth ... of it_ Collier MS. _having sinn'd to truth ... oft_
Musgrave conj.
_telling_] _quelling_ S. Verges conj.
101: _Made ... memory_] _Makes ... memory_ Hanmer. _Makes ...
memory too_ Musgrave conj.
103: _indeed the duke_] _the duke_ Steevens. _indeed duke_ S. Walker
conj.
_out o' the_] _from_ Pope.
105: _his_] _is_ F2.
105, 106: _ambition growing_] _ambition Growing_ Steevens.
106: _hear?_] _hear, child?_ Hanmer.
109: _Milan_] _Millanie_ F1 (Capell's copy).
112: _wi' the_] Capell. _with_ Ff. _wi' th'_ Rowe. _with the_
Steevens.
116: _most_] F1. _much_ F2 F3 F4.
119: _but_] _not_ Pope.
120: _Good ... sons_] Theobald suggested that these words should be
given to Prospero. Hanmer prints them so.
122: _hearkens_] _hears_ Pope. _hearks_ Theobald.
129: _Fated_] _Mated_ Dryden's version.
_purpose_] _practise_ Collier MS.
131: _ministers_] _minister_ Rowe.
133: _out_] _on't_ Steevens conj.
135: _to 't_] om. Steevens (Farmer conj.).
138: _Wherefore_] _Why_ Pope.
141: _me_] om. Pope.
146: _boat_] Rowe (after Dryden). _butt_ F1 F2 F3. _but_ F4.
_busse_ Black conj.
147: _sail_] F1. _nor sail_ F2 F3 F4.
148: _have_] _had_ Rowe (after Dryden).
150: _the winds_] _winds_ Pope.
155: _deck'd_] _brack'd_ Hanmer. _mock'd_ Warburton. _fleck'd_
Johnson conj. _degg'd_ anon. ap. Reed conj.
162: _who_] om. Pope. _he_ Steevens conj.
169: _Now I arise_] Continued to Miranda. Blackstone conj.
[Resumes his mantle] om. Ff. [Put on robe again. Collier MS.
173: _princesses_] _princesse_ F1 F2 F3. _princess_ F4.
_princes_ Rowe. _princess'_ Dyce (S. Walker conj.). See note (III).
186: [M. sleeps] Theobald.
189: SCENE III. Pope.
190: _be't_] F1. _be it_ F2 F3 F4.
193: _quality_] _qualities_ Pope (after Dryden).
198: _sometime_] F1. _sometimes_ F2 F3 F4.
200: _bowsprit_] _bore-sprit_ Ff. _bolt-sprit_ Rowe.
201: _lightnings_] Theobald. _lightning_ Ff.
202: _o' the_] _of_ Pope.
_thunder-claps_] _thunder-clap_ Johnson.
205: _Seem_] _Seem'd_ Theobald.
206: _dread_] F1. _dead_ F2 F3 F4.
_My brave_] _My brave, brave_ Theobald. _That's my brave_ Hanmer.
209: _mad_] _mind_ Pope (after Dryden).
211, 212: _vessel, ... son_] _vessell; Then all a fire with me
the King's sonne_ Ff.
218: _sustaining_] _sea-stained_ Edwards conj. _unstaining_ or
_sea-staining_ Spedding conj.
229: _Bermoothes_] _Bermudas_ Theobald.
231: _Who_] _Whom_ Hanmer.
234: _are_] _all_ Collier MS.
_upon_] _on_ Pope.
239-240: Ari. _Past the mid season._ Pros. _At least two glasses_]
Ari. _Past the mid season at least two glasses._ Warburton.
Pros. _... Past the mid season?_ Ari. _At least two glasses_
Johnson conj.
244: _How now? moody?_] _How now, moody!_ Dyce (so Dryden, ed. 1808).
245: _What_] F1. _Which_ F2 F3 F4.
248: _made thee_] Ff. _made_ Pope.
249: _didst_] F3 F4. _did_ F1 F2.
264: _and sorceries_] _sorceries too_ Hanmer.
267: _Is not this true?_] _Is this not true?_ Pope.
271: _wast then_] Rowe (after Dryden). _was then_ Ff.
273: _earthy_] _earthly_ Pope.
282: _son_] F1. _sunne_ F2. _sun_ F3 F4.
_she_] Rowe (after Dryden). _he_ Ff.
298: See note (IV).
301: _like_] F1. _like to_ F2 F3 F4.
302: _Be subject to_] _be subject To_ Malone.
_but thine and mine_] _but mine_ Pope.
304: _in't_] _in it_ Pope.
_go, hence_] _goe: hence_ Ff. _go hence_ Pope. _hence_ Hanmer.
307: _Heaviness_] _Strange heaviness_ Edd. conj.
312: _serves in offices_] F1. _serves offices_ F2 F3 F4.
_serveth offices_ Collier MS.
316: _Come, thou tortoise! when?_] om. Pope.
_Come_] _Come forth_ Steevens.]
320: _come forth!_] _come forth, thou tortoise!_ Pope.
321: SCENE IV. Pope.
332: _camest_] Rowe. _cam'st_ Ff. _cam'st here_ Ritson conj.
333: _madest_] Rowe (after Dryden). _made_ Ff.
339: _Curs'd be I that_] F1. _Curs'd be I that I_ F2 F3 F4.
_cursed be I that_ Steevens.
342: _Which_] _Who_ Pope, and at line 351.
346: _thee_] om. F4.
349: _would 't_] Ff. _I wou'd it_ Pope.
351: Pros.] Theobald (after Dryden). Mira. Ff.
352: _wilt_] F1. _will_ F2 F3 F4.
355, 356: _didst not ... Know_] _couldst not ... Shew_ Hanmer.
356: _wouldst_] _didst_ Hanmer.
361, 362: _Deservedly ... deserved_] _Justly ... who hadst Deserv'd_
S. Walker conj. _Confin'd ... deserv'd_ id. conj.
362: _Who ... prison_] om. Pope (after Dryden).
366: _thou'rt_] F1 F2 F3. _thou art_ F4. _thou wer't_ Rowe.
375: SCENE V. Pope.
following.] Malone.
378: _The wild waves whist_] Printed as a parenthesis by Steevens.
See note (V).
380: _the burthen bear_] Pope. _bear the burthen_ Ff.
381-383: Steevens gives _Hark, hark! The watch-dogs bark_ to Ariel.
387: _i' th' air or th' earth?_] _in air or earth?_ Pope.
390: _again_] _against_ Rowe (after Dryden).
407: _owes_] _owns_ Pope (after Dryden), but leaves _ow'st_ 454.
408: SCENE VI. Pope.
419: _It goes on, I see,_] _It goes, I see_ Capell. _It goes on_
Steevens.
420: _fine spirit!_] om. Hanmer.
427: _maid_] F3. _mayd_ F1 F2. _made_ F4.
443: See note (VI).
444: _ungently_] F1. _urgently_ F2 F3 F4.
451: _lest_] F4. _least_ F1 F2 F3.
452: _One_] _Sir, one_ Pope.
_I charge thee_] _I charge thee_ [to Ariel. Pope.
460: Pros. prefixed again to this line in Ff.
468: _and_] _tho'_ Hanmer.
469: _foot_] _fool_ S. Walker conj. _child_ Dryden's version.
470: _makest_] _mak'st_ F1. _makes_ F2 F3 F4.
471: _so_] F1. om. F2 F3 F4. _all_ Pope.
478: _is_] _are_ Rowe.
488: _nor_] _and_ Rowe (after Dryden). _or_ Capell.
489: _are_] _were_ Malone conj.
ACT II.
SCENE I. _Another part of the island._
_Enter ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, GONZALO, ADRIAN, FRANCISCO,
and others._
_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, 5
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. 10
_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. 15
_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. 20
_Seb._ You have taken it wiselier than 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,-- 25
_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. 30
_Seb._ Done. The wager?
_Ant._ A laughter.
_Seb._ A match!
_Adr._ Though this island seem to be desert,--
_Seb._ Ha, ha, ha!--So, you're paid. 35
_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 40
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. 45
_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! 50
_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 55
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. 60
_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 65
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. 70
_Gon._ Not since widow Dido's time.
_Ant._ Widow! a pox o' that! How came that widow
in? widow Dido!
_Seb._ What if he had said 'widower Aeneas' too? Good
Lord, how you take it! 75
_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. 80
_Seb._ His word is more than the miraculous harp; 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. 85
_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 90
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. 95
_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 against 100
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 105
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 110
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 115
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, 120
Who hath cause to wet the grief on't.
_Alon._ Prithee, peace.
_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, 125
I fear, for ever: Milan and Naples have
More 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, 130
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, 135
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.
_Seb._ Or docks, or mallows.
_Gon._ And were the king on't, what would I do?
_Seb._ 'Scape being drunk for want of wine. 140
