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THE TEMPEST

WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE

Table of Contents

1. Titlepage
2. Dramatis Personae
3. The Tempest
   1. Act I
      1. Scene I
      2. Scene II
   2. Act II
      1. Scene I
      2. Scene II
   3. Act III
      1. Scene I
      2. Scene II
      3. Scene III
   4. Act IV
      1. Scene I
   5. Act V
      1. Scene I
   6. Epilogue
4. Colophon

Dramatis Personae

• 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, lord

• 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 spirits

• Ceres, presented by spirits

• Juno, presented by spirits

• Nymphs, presented by spirits

• Reapers, presented by spirits

• Other spirits attending on Prospero

Scene: A ship at sea: an island.

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.
Master	Boatswain!
Boatswain	Here, master: what cheer?
Master	Good, speak to the mariners: fall to’t, yarely, or we run ourselves aground: bestir, bestir. Exit.
	Enter Mariners.
Boatswain	Heigh, my hearts! cheerly, cheerly, my hearts! 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.
Alonso	Good boatswain, have care. Where’s the master? Play the men.
Boatswain	I pray now, keep below.
Antonio	Where is the master, boatswain?
Boatswain	Do you not hear him? You mar our labour: keep your cabins: you do assist the storm.
Gonzalo	Nay, good, be patient.
Boatswain	When the sea is. Hence! What cares these roarers for the name of king? To cabin: silence! trouble us not.
Gonzalo	Good, yet remember whom thou hast aboard.
Boatswain	None that I more love than myself. You are a counsellor; if you can command these elements to silence, 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.
Gonzalo	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 is miserable. Exeunt.
	Re-enter Boatswain.
Boatswain	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.
	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?
Sebastian	A pox o’ your throat, you bawling, blasphemous, incharitable dog!
Boatswain	Work you then.
Antonio	Hang, cur! hang, you whoreson, insolent noisemaker! We are less afraid to be drowned than thou art.
Gonzalo	I’ll warrant him for drowning; though the ship were no stronger than a nutshell and as leaky as an unstanched wench.
Boatswain	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!
Boatswain	What, must our mouths be cold?
Gonzalo	The king and prince at prayers! let’s assist them, For our case is as theirs.
Sebastian	I’m out of patience.
Antonio	We are merely cheated of our lives by drunkards: This wide-chapp’d rascal⁠—would thou mightst lie drowning The washing of ten tides!
Gonzalo	He’ll be hang’d yet, Though every drop of water swear against it 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!”
Antonio	Let’s all sink with the king.
Sebastian	Let’s take leave of him. Exeunt Antonio and Sebastian.
Gonzalo	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.

Scene II

The island. Before Prospero’s cell.

	Enter Prospero and Miranda.
Miranda	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 suffered 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 Have sunk the sea within the earth or ere It should the good ship so have swallow’d and The fraughting souls within her.
Prospero	Be collected: No more amazement: tell your piteous heart There’s no harm done.
Miranda	O, woe the day!
Prospero	No harm. 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, And thy no greater father.
Miranda	More to know Did never meddle with my thoughts.
Prospero	’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. 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 ordered that there is no soul⁠— No, not so much perdition as an hair 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.
Miranda	You have often Begun to tell me what I am, but stopp’d And left me to a bootless inquisition, Concluding “Stay: not yet.”
Prospero	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 Out three years old.
Miranda	Certainly, sir, I can.
Prospero	By what? by any other house or person? Of any thing the image tell me that Hath kept with thy remembrance.
Miranda	’Tis far off And rather like a dream than an assurance That my remembrance warrants. Had I not Four or five women once that tended me?
Prospero	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? If thou remember’st aught ere thou camest here, How thou camest here thou mayst.
Miranda	But that I do not.
Prospero	Twelve year since, Miranda, twelve year since, Thy father was the Duke of Milan and A prince of power.
Miranda	Sir, are not you my father?
Prospero	Thy mother was a piece of virtue, and She said thou wast my daughter; and thy father Was Duke of Milan; and thou his only heir And princess no worse issued.
Miranda	O the heavens! What foul play had we, that we came from thence? Or blessed was’t we did?
Prospero	Both, both, my girl: By foul play, as thou say’st, were we heaved thence, But blessedly holp hither.
Miranda	O, my heart bleeds To think o’ the teen that I have turn’d you to, Which is from my remembrance! Please you, farther.
Prospero	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 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 And to my state grew stranger, being transported And rapt in secret studies. Thy false uncle⁠— Dost thou attend me?
Miranda	Sir, most heedfully.
Prospero	Being once perfected how to grant suits, How to deny them, who to advance and who 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 The ivy which had hid my princely trunk, And suck’d my verdure out on’t. Thou attend’st not.
Miranda	O, good sir, I do.
Prospero	I pray thee, mark me. I, thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicated To closeness and the bettering of my mind 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 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, 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— Dost thou hear?
Miranda	Your tale, sir, would cure deafness.
Prospero	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 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!⁠— To most ignoble stooping.
Miranda	O the heavens!
Prospero	Mark his condition and the event; then tell me If this might be a brother.
Miranda	I should sin To think but nobly of my grandmother: Good wombs have borne bad sons.
Prospero	Now the condition. The 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 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, The ministers for the purpose hurried thence Me and thy crying self.
Miranda	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.
Prospero	Hear a little further And then I’ll bring thee to the present business Which now’s upon’s; without the which this story Were most impertinent.
Miranda	Wherefore did they not That hour destroy us?
Prospero	Well demanded, wench: My tale provokes that question. Dear, they durst not, 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 A rotten carcass of a boat, not rigg’d, Nor tackle, sail, nor mast; the very rats Instinctively had 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, Did us but loving wrong.
Miranda	Alack, what trouble Was I then to you!
Prospero	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, Under my burthen groan’d; which raised in me An undergoing stomach, to bear up Against what should ensue.
Miranda	How came we ashore?
Prospero	By Providence divine. Some food we had and some fresh water that A noble Neapolitan, Gonzalo, Out of his charity, 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, Knowing I loved my books, he furnish’d me From mine own library with volumes that I prize above my dukedom.
Miranda	Would I might But ever see that man!
Prospero	Now I arise: Resumes his mantle. Sit still, and hear the last of our sea-sorrow. 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.
Miranda	Heavens thank you for’t! And now, I pray you, sir, For still ’tis beating in my mind, your reason For raising this sea-storm?
Prospero	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 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, 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.
Ariel	All hail, great master! grave sir, hail! I come To answer thy best pleasure; be’t to fly, To swim, to dive into the fire, to ride On the curl’d clouds, to thy strong bidding task Ariel and all his quality.
Prospero	Hast thou, spirit, Perform’d to point the tempest that I bade thee?
Ariel	To every article. 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, 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, Yea, his dread trident shake.
Prospero	My brave spirit! Who was so firm, so constant, that this coil Would not infect his reason?
Ariel	Not a soul But felt a fever of the mad and play’d Some tricks of desperation. All but mariners 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.”
Prospero	Why that’s my spirit! But was not this nigh shore?
Ariel	Close by, my master.
Prospero	But are they, Ariel, safe?
Ariel	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. 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.
Prospero	Of the king’s ship The mariners say how thou hast disposed And all the rest o’ the fleet.
Ariel	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; 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, Supposing that they saw the king’s ship wreck’d And his great person perish.
Prospero	Ariel, thy charge Exactly is perform’d: but there’s more work. What is the time o’ the day?
Ariel	Past the mid season.
Prospero	At least two glasses. The time ’twixt six and now Must by us both be spent most preciously.
Ariel	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.
Prospero	How now? moody? What is’t thou canst demand?
Ariel	My liberty.
Prospero	Before the time be out? no more!
Ariel	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.
Prospero	Dost thou forget From what a torment I did free thee?
Ariel	No.
Prospero	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 When it is baked with frost.
Ariel	I do not, sir.
Prospero	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?
Ariel	No, sir.
Prospero	Thou hast. Where was she born? speak; tell me.
Ariel	Sir, in Argier.
Prospero	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, Thou know’st, was banish’d: for one thing she did They would not take her life. Is not this true?
Ariel	Ay, sir.
Prospero	This blue-eyed hag was hither brought with child And here was left by the sailors. Thou, my slave, 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 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 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.
Ariel	Yes, Caliban her son.
Prospero	Dull thing, I say so; he, that Caliban 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 Could not again undo: it was mine art, When I arrived and heard thee, that made gape The pine and let thee out.
Ariel	I thank thee, master.
Prospero	If thou more murmur’st, I will rend an oak And peg thee in his knotty entrails till Thou hast howl’d away twelve winters.
Ariel	Pardon, master; I will be correspondent to command And do my spiriting gently.
Prospero	Do so, and after two days I will discharge thee.
Ariel	That’s my noble master! What shall I do? say what; what shall I do?
Prospero	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; Awake!
Miranda	The strangeness of your story put Heaviness in me.
Prospero	Shake it off. Come on; We’ll visit Caliban my slave, who never Yields us kind answer.
Miranda	’Tis a villain, sir, I do not love to look on.
Prospero	But, as ’tis, We cannot miss him: he does make our fire, Fetch in our wood and serves in offices That profit us. What, ho! slave! Caliban! Thou earth, thou! speak.
Caliban	Within There’s wood enough within.
Prospero	Come forth, I say! there’s other business for thee: Come, thou tortoise! when?
	Re-enter Ariel like a water-nymph.
	Fine apparition! My quaint Ariel, Hark in thine ear.
Ariel	My lord it shall be done. Exit.
Prospero	Thou poisonous slave, got by the devil himself Upon thy wicked dam, come forth!
	Enter Caliban.
Caliban	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!
Prospero	For this, be sure, to-night thou shalt have cramps, 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.
Caliban	I must eat my dinner. 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, That burn by day and night: and then I loved thee And show’d thee all the qualities o’ the isle, The fresh springs, brine-pits, barren place and fertile: Cursed be I that did so! All the charms Of Sycorax, toads, beetles, bats, light on you! For I am all the subjects that you have, Which first was mine own king: and here you sty me In this hard rock, whiles you do keep from me The rest o’ the island.
Prospero	Thou most lying slave, Whom stripes may move, not kindness! I have used thee, 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.
Caliban	O ho, O ho! would’t had been done! Thou didst prevent me; I had peopled else This isle with Calibans.
Prospero	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, 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 Deservedly confined into this rock, Who hadst deserved more than a prison.
Caliban	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!
Prospero	Hag-seed, hence! 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 That beasts shall tremble at thy din.
Caliban	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.
Prospero	So, slave; hence! Exit Caliban.
	Re-enter Ariel, invisible, playing and singing; Ferdinand following.
	Ariel’s song.
	Come unto these yellow sands, And then take hands: Courtsied when you have and kiss’d The wild waves whist, Foot it featly here and there; And, sweet sprites, the burthen bear. Burthen dispersedly. Hark, hark! Bow-wow. The watch-dogs bark: Bow-wow.
Ariel	Hark, hark! I hear The strain of strutting chanticleer Cry, Cock-a-diddle-dow.
Ferdinand	Where should this music be? i’ the air or the earth? It sounds no more: and, sure, it waits upon Some god o’ the island. Sitting on a bank, Weeping again the king my father’s wreck, This music crept by me upon the waters, Allaying both their fury and my passion With its sweet air: thence I have follow’d it, Or it hath drawn me rather. But ’tis gone. No, it begins again.
	Ariel sings.
	Full fathom five thy father lies; Of his bones are coral made; Those are pearls that were his eyes: Nothing of him that doth fade But doth suffer a sea-change Into something rich and strange. Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell Burthen. Ding-dong
Ariel	Hark! now I hear them,⁠—Ding-dong, bell.
Ferdinand	The ditty does remember my drown’d father. This is no mortal business, nor no sound That the earth owes. I hear it now above me.
Prospero	The fringed curtains of thine eye advance And say what thou seest yond.
Miranda	What is’t? a spirit? Lord, how it looks about! Believe me, sir, It carries a brave form. But ’tis a spirit.
Prospero	No, wench; it eats and sleeps and hath such senses As we have, such. This gallant which thou seest Was in the wreck; and, but he’s something stain’d With grief that’s beauty’s canker, thou mightst call him A goodly person: he hath lost his fellows And strays about to find ’em.
Miranda	I might call him A thing divine, for nothing natural I ever saw so noble.
Prospero	Aside It goes on, I see, As my soul prompts it. Spirit, fine spirit! I’ll free thee Within two days for this.
Ferdinand	Most sure, the goddess On whom these airs attend! Vouchsafe my prayer May know if you remain upon this island; And that you will some good instruction give How I may bear me here: my prime request, Which I do last pronounce, is, O you wonder! If you be maid or no?
Miranda	No wonder, sir; But certainly a maid.
Ferdinand	My language! heavens! I am the best of them that speak this speech, Were I but where ’tis spoken.
Prospero	How? the best? What wert thou, if the King of Naples heard thee?
Ferdinand	A single thing, as I am now, that wonders To hear thee speak of Naples. He does hear me; And that he does I weep: myself am Naples, Who with mine eyes, never since at ebb, beheld The king my father wreck’d.
Miranda	Alack, for mercy!
Ferdinand	Yes, faith, and all his lords; the Duke of Milan And his brave son being twain.
Prospero	Aside The Duke of Milan And his more braver daughter could control thee, If now ’twere fit to do’t. At the first sight They have changed eyes. Delicate Ariel, I’ll set thee free for this. To Ferdinand. A word, good sir; I fear you have done yourself some wrong: a word.
Miranda	Why speaks my father so ungently? This Is the third man that e’er I saw, the first That e’er I sigh’d for: pity move my father To be inclined my way!
Ferdinand	O, if a virgin, And your affection not gone forth, I’ll make you The queen of Naples.
Prospero	Soft, sir! one word more. Aside They are both in either’s powers; but this swift business I must uneasy make, lest too light winning Make the prize light. To Ferdinand. One word more; I charge thee That thou attend me: thou dost here usurp The name thou owest not; and hast put thyself Upon this island as a spy, to win it From me, the lord on’t.
Ferdinand	No, as I am a man.
Miranda	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.
Prospero	Follow me. Speak not you for him; he’s a traitor. Come; I’ll manacle thy neck and feet together: Sea-water shalt thou drink; thy food shall be The fresh-brook muscles, wither’d roots and husks Wherein the acorn cradled. Follow.
Ferdinand	No; I will resist such entertainment till Mine enemy has more power. Draws, and is charmed from moving.
Miranda	O dear father, Make not too rash a trial of him, for He’s gentle and not fearful.
Prospero	What? I say, My foot my tutor? Put thy sword up, traitor; Who makest a show but darest not strike, thy conscience Is so possess’d with guilt: come from thy ward, For I can here disarm thee with this stick And make thy weapon drop.
Miranda	Beseech you, father.
Prospero	Hence! hang not on my garments.
Miranda	Sir, have pity; I’ll be his surety.
Prospero	Silence! one word more Shall make me chide thee, if not hate thee. What! An advocate for an imposter! hush! Thou think’st there is no more such shapes as he, Having seen but him and Caliban: foolish wench! To the most of men this is a Caliban And they to him are angels.
Miranda	My affections Are then most humble; I have no ambition To see a goodlier man.
Prospero	Come on; obey: Thy nerves are in their infancy again And have no vigour in them.
Ferdinand	So they are; My spirits, as in a dream, are all bound up. My father’s loss, the weakness which I feel, The wreck of all my friends, nor this man’s threats, To whom I am subdued, are but light to me, Might I but through my prison once a day Behold this maid: all corners else o’ the earth Let liberty make use of; space enough Have I in such a prison.
Prospero	Aside It works. To Ferdinand. Come on. Thou hast done well, fine Ariel! To Ferdinand. Follow me. To Ariel. Hark what thou else shalt do me.
Miranda	Be of comfort; My father’s of a better nature, sir, Than he appears by speech: this is unwonted Which now came from him.
Prospero	Thou shalt be free As mountain winds: but then exactly do All points of my command.
Ariel	To the syllable.
Prospero	Come, follow. Speak not for him. Exeunt.

Act II

Scene I

Another part of the island.

	Enter Alonso, Sebastian, Antonio, Gonzalo, Adrian, Francisco, and others.
Gonzalo	Beseech you, sir, be merry; you have cause, So have we all, of joy; for our escape Is much beyond our loss. Our hint of woe Is common; every day some sailor’s wife, The masters of some merchant and the merchant Have just our theme of woe; but for the miracle, I mean our preservation, few in millions Can speak like us: then wisely, good sir, weigh Our sorrow with our comfort.
Alonso	Prithee, peace.
Sebastian	He receives comfort like cold porridge.
Antonio	The visitor will not give him o’er so.
Sebastian	Look he’s winding up the watch of his wit; by and by it will strike.
Gonzalo	Sir,⁠—
Sebastian	One: tell.
Gonzalo	When every grief is entertain’d that’s offer’d, Comes to the entertainer⁠—
Sebastian	A dollar.
Gonzalo	Dolour comes to him, indeed: you have spoken truer than you purposed.
Sebastian	You have taken it wiselier than I meant you should.
Gonzalo	Therefore, my lord,⁠—
Antonio	Fie, what a spendthrift is he of his tongue!
Alonso	I prithee, spare.
Gonzalo	Well, I have done: but yet,⁠—
Sebastian	He will be talking.
Antonio	Which, of he or Adrian, for a good wager, first begins to crow?
Sebastian	The old cock.
Antonio	The cockerel.
Sebastian	Done. The wager?
Antonio	A laughter.
Sebastian	A match!
Adrian	Though this island seem to be desert,⁠—
Sebastian	Ha, ha, ha! So, you’re paid.
Adrian	Uninhabitable and almost inaccessible,⁠—
Sebastian	Yet,⁠—
Adrian	Yet,⁠—
Antonio	He could not miss’t.
Adrian	It must needs be of subtle, tender and delicate temperance.
Antonio	Temperance was a delicate wench.
Sebastian	Ay, and a subtle; as he most learnedly delivered.
Adrian	The air breathes upon us here most sweetly.
Sebastian	As if it had lungs and rotten ones.
Antonio	Or as ’twere perfumed by a fen.
Gonzalo	Here is everything advantageous to life.
Antonio	True; save means to live.
Sebastian	Of that there’s none, or little.
Gonzalo	How lush and lusty the grass looks! how green!
Antonio	The ground indeed is tawny.
Sebastian	With an eye of green in’t.
Antonio	He misses not much.
Sebastian	No; he doth but mistake the truth totally.
Gonzalo	But the rarity of it is,⁠—which is indeed almost beyond credit,⁠—
Sebastian	As many vouched rarities are.
Gonzalo	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.
Antonio	If but one of his pockets could speak, would it not say he lies?
Sebastian	Ay, or very falsely pocket up his report
Gonzalo	Methinks our garments are now as fresh as when we put them on first in Afric, at the marriage of the king’s fair daughter Claribel to the King of Tunis.
Sebastian	’Twas a sweet marriage, and we prosper well in our return.
Adrian	Tunis was never graced before with such a paragon to their queen.
Gonzalo	Not since widow Dido’s time.
Antonio	Widow! a pox o’ that! How came that widow in? widow Dido!
Sebastian	What if he had said “widower Aenea” too? Good Lord, how you take it!
Adrian	“Widow Dido” said you? you make me study of that: she was of Carthage, not of Tunis.
Gonzalo	This Tunis, sir, was Carthage.
Adrian	Carthage?
Gonzalo	I assure you, Carthage.
Sebastian	His word is more than the miraculous harp; he hath raised the wall and houses too.
Antonio	What impossible matter will he make easy next?
Sebastian	I think he will carry this island home in his pocket and give it his son for an apple.
Antonio	And, sowing the kernels of it in the sea, bring forth more islands.
Gonzalo	Ay.
Antonio	Why, in good time.
Gonzalo	Sir, we were talking that our garments seem now as fresh as when we were at Tunis at the marriage of your daughter, who is now queen.
Antonio	And the rarest that e’er came there.
Sebastian	Bate, I beseech you, widow Dido.
Antonio	O, widow Dido! ay, widow Dido.
Gonzalo	Is not, sir, my doublet as fresh as the first day I wore it? I mean, in a sort.
Antonio	That sort was well fished for.
Gonzalo	When I wore it at your daughter’s marriage?
Alonso	You cram these words into mine ears against The stomach of my sense. Would I had never Married my daughter there! for, coming thence, My son is lost and, in my rate, she too, Who is so far from Italy removed I ne’er again shall see her. O thou mine heir Of Naples and of Milan, what strange fish Hath made his meal on thee?
Francisco	Sir, he may live: I saw him beat the surges under him, And ride upon their backs; he trod the water, Whose enmity he flung aside, and breasted The surge most swoln that met him; his bold head ‘Bove the contentious waves he kept, and oar’d Himself with his good arms in lusty stroke To the shore, that o’er his wave-worn basis bow’d, As stooping to relieve him: I not doubt He came alive to land.
Alonso	No, no, he’s gone.
Sebastian	Sir, you may thank yourself for this great loss, That would not bless our Europe with your daughter, But rather lose her to an African; Where she at least is banish’d from your eye, Who hath cause to wet the grief on’t.
Alonso	Prithee, peace.
Sebastian	You were kneel’d to and importuned otherwise By all of us, and the fair soul herself Weigh’d between loathness and obedience, at Which end o’ the beam should bow. We have lost your son, I fear, for ever: Milan and Naples have More widows in them of this business’ making Than we bring men to comfort them: The fault’s your own.
Alonso	So is the dear’st o’ the loss.
Gonzalo	My lord Sebastian, The truth you speak doth lack some gentleness And time to speak it in: you rub the sore, When you should bring the plaster.
Sebastian	Very well.
Antonio	And most chirurgeonly.
Gonzalo	It is foul weather in us all, good sir, When you are cloudy.
Sebastian	Foul weather?
Antonio	Very foul.
Gonzalo	Had I plantation of this isle, my lord,⁠—
Antonio	He’ld sow’t with nettle-seed.
Sebastian	Or docks, or mallows.
Gonzalo	And were the king on’t, what would I do?
Sebastian	’Scape being drunk for want of wine.
Gonzalo	I’ the commonwealth I would by contraries Execute all things; for no kind of traffic Would I admit; no name of magistrate; Letters should not be known; riches, poverty, And use of service, none; contract, succession, Bourn, bound of land, tilth, vineyard, none; No use of metal, corn, or wine, or oil; No occupation; all men idle, all; And women too, but innocent and pure; No sovereignty;⁠—
Sebastian	Yet he would be king on’t.
Antonio	The latter end of his commonwealth forgets the beginning.
Gonzalo	All things in common nature should produce Without sweat or endeavour: treason, felony, Sword, pike, knife, gun, or need of any engine, Would I not have; but nature should bring forth, Of its own kind, all foison, all abundance, To feed my innocent people.
Sebastian	No marrying ’mong his subjects?
Antonio	None, man; all idle: whores and knaves.
Gonzalo	I would with such perfection govern, sir, To excel the golden age.
Sebastian	God save his majesty!
Antonio	Long live Gonzalo!
Gonzalo	And,⁠—do you mark me, sir?
Alonso	Prithee, no more: thou dost talk nothing to me.
Gonzalo	I do well believe your highness; and did it to minister occasion to these gentlemen, who are of such sensible and nimble lungs that they always use to laugh at nothing.
Antonio	’Twas you we laughed at.
Gonzalo	Who in this kind of merry fooling am nothing to you: so you may continue and laugh at nothing still.
Antonio	What a blow was there given!
Sebastian	An it had not fallen flat-long.
Gonzalo	You are gentlemen of brave metal; you would lift the moon out of her sphere, if she would continue in it five weeks without changing.
	Enter Ariel, invisible, playing solemn music
Sebastian	We would so, and then go a bat-fowling.
Antonio	Nay, good my lord, be not angry.
Gonzalo	No, I warrant you; I will not adventure my discretion so weakly. Will you laugh me asleep, for I am very heavy?
Antonio	Go sleep, and hear us. All sleep except Alonso, Sebastian, and Antonio.
Alonso	What, all so soon asleep! I wish mine eyes Would, with themselves, shut up my thoughts: I find They are inclined to do so.
Sebastian	Please you, sir, Do not omit the heavy offer of it: It seldom visits sorrow; when it doth, It is a comforter.
Antonio	We two, my lord, Will guard your person while you take your rest, And watch your safety.
Alonso	Thank you. Wondrous heavy. Alonso sleeps. Exit Ariel.
Sebastian	What a strange drowsiness possesses them!
Antonio	It is the quality o’ the climate.
Sebastian	Why Doth it not then our eyelids sink? I find not Myself disposed to sleep.
Antonio	Nor I; my spirits are nimble. They fell together all, as by consent; They dropp’d, as by a thunder-stroke. What might, Worthy Sebastian? O, what might?⁠—No more:⁠— And yet me thinks I see it in thy face, What thou shouldst be: the occasion speaks thee, and My strong imagination sees a crown Dropping upon thy head.
Sebastian	What, art thou waking?
Antonio	Do you not hear me speak?
Sebastian	I do; and surely It is a sleepy language and thou speak’st Out of thy sleep. What is it thou didst say? This is a strange repose, to be asleep With eyes wide open; standing, speaking, moving, And yet so fast asleep.
Antonio	Noble Sebastian, Thou let’st thy fortune sleep⁠—die, rather; wink’st Whiles thou art waking.
Sebastian	Thou dost snore distinctly; There’s meaning in thy snores.
Antonio	I am more serious than my custom: you Must be so too, if heed me; which to do Trebles thee o’er.
Sebastian	Well, I am standing water.
Antonio	I’ll teach you how to flow.
Sebastian	Do so: to ebb Hereditary sloth instructs me.
Antonio	O, If you but knew how you the purpose cherish Whiles thus you mock it! how, in stripping it, You more invest it! Ebbing men, indeed, Most often do so near the bottom run By their own fear or sloth.
Sebastian	Prithee, say on: The setting of thine eye and cheek proclaim A matter from thee, and a birth indeed Which throes thee much to yield.
Antonio	Thus, sir: Although this lord of weak remembrance, this, Who shall be of as little memory When he is earth’d, hath here almost persuaded,⁠— For he’s a spirit of persuasion, only Professes to persuade,⁠—the king his son’s alive, ’Tis as impossible that he’s undrown’d And he that sleeps here swims.
Sebastian	I have no hope That he’s undrown’d.
Antonio	O, out of that “no hope” What great hope have you! no hope that way is Another way so high a hope that even Ambition cannot pierce a wink beyond, But doubt discovery there. Will you grant with me That Ferdinand is drown’d?
Sebastian	He’s gone.
Antonio	Then, tell me, Who’s the next heir of Naples?
Sebastian	Claribel.
Antonio	She that is queen of Tunis; she that dwells Ten leagues beyond man’s life; she that from Naples Can have no note, unless the sun were post⁠— The man i’ the moon’s too slow⁠—till new-born chins Be rough and razorable; she that⁠—from whom? We all were sea-swallow’d, though some cast again, And by that destiny to perform an act Whereof what’s past is prologue, what to come In yours and my discharge.
Sebastian	What stuff is this! how say you? ’Tis true, my brother’s daughter’s queen of Tunis; So is she heir of Naples; ’twixt which regions There is some space.
Antonio	A space whose every cubit Seems to cry out, “How shall that Claribel Measure us back to Naples? Keep in Tunis, And let Sebastian wake.” Say, this were death That now hath seized them; why, they were no worse Than now they are. There be that can rule Naples As well as he that sleeps; lords that can prate As amply and unnecessarily As this Gonzalo; I myself could make A chough of as deep chat. O, that you bore The mind that I do! what a sleep were this For your advancement! Do you understand me?
Sebastian	Methinks I do.
Antonio	And how does your content Tender your own good fortune?
Sebastian	I remember You did supplant your brother Prospero.
Antonio	True: And look how well my garments sit upon me; Much feater than before: my brother’s servants Were then my fellows; now they are my men.
Sebastian	But, for your conscience?
Antonio	Ay, sir; where lies that? if ’twere a kibe, ’Twould put me to my slipper: but I feel not This deity in my bosom: twenty consciences, That stand ’twixt me and Milan, candied be they And melt ere they molest! Here lies your brother, No better than the earth he lies upon, If he were that which now he’s like, that’s dead; Whom I, with this obedient steel, three inches of it, Can lay to bed for ever; whiles you, doing thus, To the perpetual wink for aye might put This ancient morsel, this Sir Prudence, who Should not upbraid our course. For all the rest, They’ll take suggestion as a cat laps milk; They’ll tell the clock to any business that We say befits the hour.
Sebastian	Thy case, dear friend, Shall be my precedent; as thou got’st Milan, I’ll come by Naples. Draw thy sword: one stroke Shall free thee from the tribute which thou payest: And I the king shall love thee.
Antonio	Draw together; And when I rear my hand, do you the like, To fall it on Gonzalo.
Sebastian	O, but one word. They talk apart.
	Re-enter Ariel, invisible.
Ariel	My master through his art foresees the danger That you, his friend, are in; and sends me forth⁠— For else his project dies⁠—to keep them living. Sings in Gonzalo’s ear.
	While you here do snoring lie, Open-eyed conspiracy His time doth take. If of life you keep a care, Shake off slumber, and beware: Awake, awake!
Antonio	Then let us both be sudden.
Gonzalo	Now, good angels Preserve the king. They wake.
Alonso	Why, how now? ho, awake! Why are you drawn? Wherefore this ghastly looking?
Gonzalo	What’s the matter?
Sebastian	Whiles we stood here securing your repose, Even now, we heard a hollow burst of bellowing Like bulls, or rather lions: did’t not wake you? It struck mine ear most terribly.
Alonso	I heard nothing.
Antonio	O, ’twas a din to fright a monster’s ear, To make an earthquake! sure, it was the roar Of a whole herd of lions.
Alonso	Heard you this, Gonzalo?
Gonzalo	Upon mine honour, sir, I heard a humming, And that a strange one too, which did awake me: I shaked you, sir, and cried: as mine eyes open’d, I saw their weapons drawn: there was a noise, That’s verily. ’Tis best we stand upon our guard, Or that we quit this place: let’s draw our weapons.
Alonso	Lead off this ground; and let’s make further search For my poor son.
Gonzalo	Heavens keep him from these beasts! For he is, sure, i’ the island.
Alonso	Lead away.
Ariel	Prospero my lord shall know what I have done: So, king, go safely on to seek thy son. Exeunt.

Scene II

Another part of the island.

	Enter Caliban with a burden of wood. A noise of thunder heard.
Caliban	All the infections that the sun sucks up From bogs, fens, flats, on Prosper fall and make him By inch-meal a disease! His spirits hear me And yet I needs must curse. But they’ll nor pinch, Fright me with urchin-shows, pitch me i’ the mire, Nor lead me, like a firebrand, in the dark Out of my way, unless he bid ’em; but For every trifle are they set upon me; Sometime like apes that mow and chatter at me And after bite me, then like hedgehogs which Lie tumbling in my barefoot way and mount Their pricks at my footfall; sometime am I All wound with adders who with cloven tongues Do hiss me into madness.
	Enter Trinculo.
	Lo, now, lo! Here comes a spirit of his, and to torment me For bringing wood in slowly. I’ll fall flat; Perchance he will not mind me.
Trinculo	Here’s neither bush nor shrub, to bear off any weather at all, and another storm brewing; I hear it sing i’ the wind: yond same black cloud, yond huge one, looks like a foul bombard that would shed his liquor. If it should thunder as it did before, I know not where to hide my head: yond same cloud cannot choose but fall by pailfuls. What have we here? a man or a fish? dead or alive? A fish: he smells like a fish; a very ancient and fish-like smell; a kind of not of the newest Poor-John. A strange fish! Were I in England now, as once I was, and had but this fish painted, not a holiday fool there but would give a piece of silver: there would this monster make a man; any strange beast there makes a man: when they will not give a doit to relieve a lame beggar, they will lazy out ten to see a dead Indian. Legged like a man! and his fins like arms! Warm o’ my troth! I do now let loose my opinion; hold it no longer: this is no fish, but an islander, that hath lately suffered by a thunderbolt. Thunder. Alas, the storm is come again! my best way is to creep under his gaberdine; there is no other shelter hereabouts: misery acquaints a man with strange bed-fellows. I will here shroud till the dregs of the storm be past.
	Enter Stephano, singing: a bottle in his hand.
Stephano	I shall no more to sea, to sea, Here shall I die ashore⁠—
	This is a very scurvy tune to sing at a man’s funeral: well, here’s my comfort. Drinks.
	Sings. The master, the swabber, the boatswain and I, The gunner and his mate Loved Mall, Meg and Marian and Margery, But none of us cared for Kate; For she had a tongue with a tang, Would cry to a sailor, Go hang! She loved not the savour of tar nor of pitch, Yet a tailor might scratch her where’er she did itch: Then to sea, boys, and let her go hang!
	This is a scurvy tune too: but here’s my comfort. Drinks.
Caliban	Do not torment me: Oh!
Stephano	What’s the matter? Have we devils here? Do you put tricks upon’s with savages and men of Ind, ha? I have not ’scaped drowning to be afeard now of your four legs; for it hath been said, As proper a man as ever went on four legs cannot make him give ground; and it shall be said so again while Stephano breathes at nostrils.
Caliban	The spirit torments me; Oh!
Stephano	This is some monster of the isle with four legs, who hath got, as I take it, an ague. Where the devil should he learn our language? I will give him some relief, if it be but for that. If I can recover him and keep him tame and get to Naples with him, he’s a present for any emperor that ever trod on neat’s-leather.
Caliban	Do not torment me, prithee; I’ll bring my wood home faster.
Stephano	He’s in his fit now and does not talk after the wisest. He shall taste of my bottle: if he have never drunk wine afore, it will go near to remove his fit. If I can recover him and keep him tame, I will not take too much for him; he shall pay for him that hath him, and that soundly.
Caliban	Thou dost me yet but little hurt; thou wilt anon, I know it by thy trembling: now Prosper works upon thee.
Stephano	Come on your ways; open your mouth; here is that which will give language to you, cat: open your mouth; this will shake your shaking, I can tell you, and that soundly: you cannot tell who’s your friend: open your chaps again.
Trinculo	I should know that voice: it should be⁠—but he is drowned; and these are devils: O defend me!
Stephano	Four legs and two voices: a most delicate monster! His forward voice now is to speak well of his friend; his backward voice is to utter foul speeches and to detract. If all the wine in my bottle will recover him, I will help his ague. Come. Amen! I will pour some in thy other mouth.
Trinculo	Stephano!
Stephano	Doth thy other mouth call me? Mercy, mercy! This is a devil, and no monster: I will leave him; I have no long spoon.
Trinculo	Stephano! If thou beest Stephano, touch me and speak to me; for I am Trinculo⁠—be not afeard⁠—thy good friend Trinculo.
Stephano	If thou beest Trinculo, come forth: I’ll pull thee by the lesser legs: if any be Trinculo’s legs, these are they. Thou art very Trinculo indeed! How camest thou to be the siege of this moon-calf? can he vent Trinculos?
Trinculo	I took him to be killed with a thunder-stroke. But art thou not drowned, Stephano? I hope now thou art not drowned. Is the storm overblown? I hid me under the dead moon-calf’s gaberdine for fear of the storm. And art thou living, Stephano? O Stephano, two Neapolitans ’scaped!
Stephano	Prithee, do not turn me about; my stomach is not constant.
Caliban	Aside These be fine things, an if they be not sprites. That’s a brave god and bears celestial liquor. I will kneel to him.
Stephano	How didst thou ’scape? How camest thou hither? swear by this bottle how thou camest hither. I escaped upon a butt of sack which the sailors heaved o’erboard, by this bottle! which I made of the bark of a tree with mine own hands since I was cast ashore.
Caliban	I’ll swear upon that bottle to be thy true subject; for the liquor is not earthly.
Stephano	Here; swear then how thou escapedst.
Trinculo	Swum ashore, man, like a duck: I can swim like a duck, I’ll be sworn.
Stephano	Here, kiss the book. Though thou canst swim like a duck, thou art made like a goose.
Trinculo	O Stephano, hast any more of this?
Stephano	The whole butt, man: my cellar is in a rock by the sea-side where my wine is hid. How now, moon-calf! how does thine ague?
Caliban	Hast thou not dropp’d from heaven?
Stephano	Out o’ the moon, I do assure thee: I was the man i’ the moon when time was.
Caliban	I have seen thee in her and I do adore thee: My mistress show’d me thee and thy dog and thy bush.
Stephano	Come, swear to that; kiss the book: I will furnish it anon with new contents: swear.
Trinculo	By this good light, this is a very shallow monster! I afeard of him! A very weak monster! The man i’ the moon! A most poor credulous monster! Well drawn, monster, in good sooth!
Caliban	I’ll show thee every fertile inch o’ th’ island; And I will kiss thy foot: I prithee, be my god.
Trinculo	By this light, a most perfidious and drunken monster! when’s god’s asleep, he’ll rob his bottle.
Caliban	I’ll kiss thy foot; I’ll swear myself thy subject.
Stephano	Come on then; down, and swear.
Trinculo	I shall laugh myself to death at this puppy-headed monster. A most scurvy monster! I could find in my heart to beat him,⁠—
Stephano	Come, kiss.
Trinculo	But that the poor monster’s in drink: an abominable monster!
Caliban	I’ll show thee the best springs; I’ll pluck thee berries; I’ll fish for thee and get thee wood enough. A plague upon the tyrant that I serve! I’ll bear him no more sticks, but follow thee, Thou wondrous man.
Trinculo	A most ridiculous monster, to make a wonder of a poor drunkard!
Caliban	I prithee, let me bring thee where crabs grow; And I with my long nails will dig thee pignuts; Show thee a jay’s nest and instruct thee how To snare the nimble marmoset; I’ll bring thee To clustering filberts and sometimes I’ll get thee Young scamels from the rock. Wilt thou go with me?
Stephano	I prithee now, lead the way without any more talking. Trinculo, the king and all our company else being drowned, we will inherit here: here; bear my bottle: fellow Trinculo, we’ll fill him by and by again.
Caliban	Sings drunkenly. Farewell master; farewell, farewell!
Trinculo	A howling monster; a drunken monster!
Caliban	No more dams I’ll make for fish; Nor fetch in firing At requiring; Nor scrape trencher, nor wash dish: ’Ban, ’Ban, Cacaliban Has a new master: get a new man.
	Freedom, hey-day! hey-day, freedom! freedom, hey-day, freedom!
Stephano	O brave monster! Lead the way. Exeunt.

Act III

Scene I

Before Prospero’s cell.

	Enter Ferdinand, bearing a log.
Ferdinand	There be some sports are painful, and their labour Delight in them sets off: some kinds of baseness Are nobly undergone and most poor matters Point to rich ends. This my mean task Would be as heavy to me as odious, but The mistress which I serve quickens what’s dead And makes my labours pleasures: O, she is Ten times more gentle than her father’s crabbed, And he’s composed of harshness. I must remove Some thousands of these logs and pile them up, Upon a sore injunction: my sweet mistress Weeps when she sees me work, and says, such baseness Had never like executor. I forget: But these sweet thoughts do even refresh my labours, Most busy lest, when I do it.
	Enter Miranda; and Prospero at a distance, unseen.
Miranda	Alas, now, pray you, Work not so hard: I would the lightning had Burnt up those logs that you are enjoin’d to pile! Pray, set it down and rest you: when this burns, ’Twill weep for having wearied you. My father Is hard at study; pray now, rest yourself; He’s safe for these three hours.
Ferdinand	O most dear mistress, The sun will set before I shall discharge What I must strive to do.
Miranda	If you’ll sit down, I’ll bear your logs the while: pray, give me that; I’ll carry it to the pile.
Ferdinand	No, precious creature; I had rather crack my sinews, break my back, Than you should such dishonour undergo, While I sit lazy by.
Miranda	It would become me As well as it does you: and I should do it With much more ease; for my good will is to it, And yours it is against.
Prospero	Poor worm, thou art infected! This visitation shows it.
Miranda	You look wearily.
Ferdinand	No, noble mistress; ’tis fresh morning with me When you are by at night. I do beseech you⁠— Chiefly that I might set it in my prayers⁠— What is your name?
Miranda	Miranda.⁠—O my father, I have broke your hest to say so!
Ferdinand	Admired Miranda! Indeed the top of admiration! worth What’s dearest to the world! Full many a lady I have eyed with best regard and many a time The harmony of their tongues hath into bondage Brought my too diligent ear: for several virtues Have I liked several women; never any With so fun soul, but some defect in her Did quarrel with the noblest grace she owed And put it to the foil: but you, O you, So perfect and so peerless, are created Of every creature’s best!
Miranda	I do not know One of my sex; no woman’s face remember, Save, from my glass, mine own; nor have I seen More that I may call men than you, good friend, And my dear father: how features are abroad, I am skilless of; but, by my modesty, The jewel in my dower, I would not wish Any companion in the world but you, Nor can imagination form a shape, Besides yourself, to like of. But I prattle Something too wildly and my father’s precepts I therein do forget.
Ferdinand	I am in my condition A prince, Miranda; I do think, a king; I would, not so!⁠—and would no more endure This wooden slavery than to suffer The flesh-fly blow my mouth. Hear my soul speak: The very instant that I saw you, did My heart fly to your service; there resides, To make me slave to it; and for your sake Am I this patient log-man.
Miranda	Do you love me?
Ferdinand	O heaven, O earth, bear witness to this sound And crown what I profess with kind event If I speak true! if hollowly, invert What best is boded me to mischief! I Beyond all limit of what else i’ the world Do love, prize, honour you.
Miranda	I am a fool To weep at what I am glad of.
Prospero	Fair encounter Of two most rare affections! Heavens rain grace On that which breeds between ’em!
Ferdinand	Wherefore weep you?
Miranda	At mine unworthiness that dare not offer What I desire to give, and much less take What I shall die to want. But this is trifling; And all the more it seeks to hide itself, The bigger bulk it shows. Hence, bashful cunning! And prompt me, plain and holy innocence! I am your wife, if you will marry me; If not, I’ll die your maid: to be your fellow You may deny me; but I’ll be your servant, Whether you will or no.
Ferdinand	My mistress, dearest; And I thus humble ever.
Miranda	My husband, then?
Ferdinand	Ay, with a heart as willing As bondage e’er of freedom: here’s my hand.
Miranda	And mine, with my heart in’t: and now farewell Till half an hour hence.
Ferdinand	A thousand thousand!
	Exeunt Ferdinand and Miranda severally.
Prospero	So glad of this as they I cannot be, Who are surprised withal; but my rejoicing At nothing can be more. I’ll to my book, For yet ere supper-time must I perform Much business appertaining. Exit.

Scene II

Another part of the island.

	Enter Caliban, Stephano, and Trinculo.
Stephano	Tell not me; when the butt is out, we will drink water; not a drop before: therefore bear up, and board ’em. Servant-monster, drink to me.
Trinculo	Servant-monster! the folly of this island! They say there’s but five upon this isle: we are three of them; if th’ other two be brained like us, the state totters.
Stephano	Drink, servant-monster, when I bid thee: thy eyes are almost set in thy head.
Trinculo	Where should they be set else? he were a brave monster indeed, if they were set in his tail.
Stephano	My man-monster hath drown’d his tongue in sack: for my part, the sea cannot drown me; I swam, ere I could recover the shore, five and thirty leagues off and on. By this light, thou shalt be my lieutenant, monster, or my standard.
Trinculo	Your lieutenant, if you list; he’s no standard.
Stephano	We’ll not run, Monsieur Monster.
Trinculo	Nor go neither; but you’ll lie like dogs and yet say nothing neither.
Stephano	Moon-calf, speak once in thy life, if thou beest a good moon-calf.
Caliban	How does thy honour? Let me lick thy shoe. I’ll not serve him; he’s not valiant.
Trinculo	Thou liest, most ignorant monster: I am in case to justle a constable. Why, thou deboshed fish thou, was there ever man a coward that hath drunk so much sack as I to-day? Wilt thou tell a monstrous lie, being but half a fish and half a monster?
Caliban	Lo, how he mocks me! wilt thou let him, my lord?
Trinculo	“Lord” quoth he! That a monster should be such a natural!
Caliban	Lo, lo, again! bite him to death, I prithee.
Stephano	Trinculo, keep a good tongue in your head: if you prove a mutineer,⁠—the next tree! The poor monster’s my subject and he shall not suffer indignity.
Caliban	I thank my noble lord. Wilt thou be pleased to hearken once again to the suit I made to thee?
Stephano	Marry, will I: kneel and repeat it; I will stand, and so shall Trinculo.
	Enter Ariel, invisible
Caliban	As I told thee before, I am subject to a tyrant, a sorcerer, that by his cunning hath cheated me of the island.
Ariel	Thou liest.
Caliban	Thou liest, thou jesting monkey, thou: I would my valiant master would destroy thee! I do not lie.
Stephano	Trinculo, if you trouble him any more in’s tale, by this hand, I will supplant some of your teeth.
Trinculo	Why, I said nothing.
Stephano	Mum, then, and no more. Proceed.
Caliban	I say, by sorcery he got this isle; From me he got it. If thy greatness will Revenge it on him,⁠—for I know thou darest, But this thing dare not,⁠—
Stephano	That’s most certain.
Caliban	Thou shalt be lord of it and I’ll serve thee.
Stephano	How now shall this be compassed? Canst thou bring me to the party?
Caliban	Yea, yea, my lord: I’ll yield him thee asleep, Where thou mayst knock a nail into his head.
Ariel	Thou liest; thou canst not.
Caliban	What a pied ninny’s this! Thou scurvy patch! I do beseech thy greatness, give him blows And take his bottle from him: when that’s gone He shall drink nought but brine; for I’ll not show him Where the quick freshes are.
Stephano	Trinculo, run into no further danger: interrupt the monster one word further, and, by this hand, I’ll turn my mercy out o’ doors and make a stock-fish of thee.
Trinculo	Why, what did I? I did nothing. I’ll go farther off.
Stephano	Didst thou not say he lied?
Ariel	Thou liest.
Stephano	Do I so? take thou that. Beats Trinculo. As you like this, give me the lie another time.
Trinculo	I did not give the lie. Out o’ your wits and hearing too? A pox o’ your bottle! this can sack and drinking do. A murrain on your monster, and the devil take your fingers!
Caliban	Ha, ha, ha!
Stephano	Now, forward with your tale. Prithee, stand farther off.
Caliban	Beat him enough: after a little time I’ll beat him too.
Stephano	Stand farther. Come, proceed.
Caliban	Why, as I told thee, ’tis a custom with him, I’ th’ afternoon to sleep: there thou mayst brain him, Having first seized his books, or with a log Batter his skull, or paunch him with a stake, Or cut his wezand with thy knife. Remember First to possess his books; for without them He’s but a sot, as I am, nor hath not One spirit to command: they all do hate him As rootedly as I. Burn but his books. He has brave utensils,⁠—for so he calls them,⁠— Which when he has a house, he’ll deck withal. And that most deeply to consider is The beauty of his daughter; he himself Calls her a nonpareil: I never saw a woman, But only Sycorax my dam and she; But she as far surpasseth Sycorax As great’st does least.
Stephano	Is it so brave a lass?
Caliban	Ay, lord; she will become thy bed, I warrant. And bring thee forth brave brood.
Stephano	Monster, I will kill this man: his daughter and I will be king and queen,⁠—save our graces!⁠—and Trinculo and thyself shall be viceroys. Dost thou like the plot, Trinculo?
Trinculo	Excellent.
Stephano	Give me thy hand: I am sorry I beat thee; but, while thou livest, keep a good tongue in thy head.
Caliban	Within this half hour will he be asleep: Wilt thou destroy him then?
Stephano	Ay, on mine honour.
Ariel	This will I tell my master.
Caliban	Thou makest me merry; I am full of pleasure: Let us be jocund: will you troll the catch You taught me but while-ere?
Stephano	At thy request, monster, I will do reason, any reason. Come on, Trinculo, let us sing. Sings.
	Flout ’em and scout ’em And scout ’em and flout ’em; Thought is free.
Caliban	That’s not the tune. Ariel plays the tune on a tabor and pipe.
Stephano	What is this same?
Trinculo	This is the tune of our catch, played by the picture of Nobody.
Stephano	If thou beest a man, show thyself in thy likeness: if thou beest a devil, take’t as thou list.
Trinculo	O, forgive me my sins!
Stephano	He that dies pays all debts: I defy thee. Mercy upon us!
Caliban	Art thou afeard?
Stephano	No, monster, not I.
Caliban	Be not afeard; the isle is full of noises, Sounds and sweet airs, that give delight and hurt not. Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments Will hum about mine ears, and sometime voices That, if I then had waked after long sleep, Will make me sleep again: and then, in dreaming, The clouds methought would open and show riches Ready to drop upon me, that, when I waked, I cried to dream again.
Stephano	This will prove a brave kingdom to me, where I shall have my music for nothing.
Caliban	When Prospero is destroyed.
Stephano	That shall be by and by: I remember the story.
Trinculo	The sound is going away; let’s follow it, and after do our work.
Stephano	Lead, monster; we’ll follow. I would I could see this tabourer; he lays it on.
Trinculo	Wilt come? I’ll follow, Stephano. Exeunt.

Scene III

Another part of the island.

	Enter Alonso, Sebastian, Antonio, Gonzalo, Adrian, Francisco, and others.
Gonzalo	By’r lakin, I can go no further, sir; My old bones ache: here’s a maze trod indeed Through forth-rights and meanders! By your patience, I needs must rest me.
Alonso	Old lord, I cannot blame thee, Who am myself attach’d with weariness, To the dulling of my spirits: sit down, and rest. Even here I will put off my hope and keep it No longer for my flatterer: he is drown’d Whom thus we stray to find, and the sea mocks Our frustrate search on land. Well, let him go.
Antonio	Aside to Sebastian. I am right glad that he’s so out of hope. Do not, for one repulse, forego the purpose That you resolved to effect.
Sebastian	Aside to Antonio. The next advantage Will we take throughly.
Antonio	Aside to Sebastian. Let it be to-night; For, now they are oppress’d with travel, they Will not, nor cannot, use such vigilance As when they are fresh.
Sebastian	Aside to Antonio. I say, to-night: no more. Solemn and strange music.
Alonso	What harmony is this? My good friends, hark!
Gonzalo	Marvellous sweet music!
	Enter Prospero above, invisible. Enter several strange Shapes, bringing in a banquet; they dance about it with gentle actions of salutation; and, inviting the King, etc. to eat, they depart.
Alonso	Give us kind keepers, heavens! What were these?
Sebastian	A living drollery. Now I will believe That there are unicorns, that in Arabia There is one tree, the phoenix’ throne, one phoenix At this hour reigning there.
Antonio	I’ll believe both; And what does else want credit, come to me, And I’ll be sworn ’tis true: travellers ne’er did lie, Though fools at home condemn ’em.
Gonzalo	If in Naples I should report this now, would they believe me? If I should say, I saw such islanders⁠— For, certes, these are people of the island⁠— Who, though they are of monstrous shape, yet, note, Their manners are more gentle-kind than of Our human generation you shall find Many, nay, almost any.
Prospero	Aside Honest lord, Thou hast said well; for some of you there present Are worse than devils.
Alonso	I cannot too much muse Such shapes, such gesture and such sound, expressing, Although they want the use of tongue, a kind Of excellent dumb discourse.
Prospero	Aside Praise in departing.
Francisco	They vanish’d strangely.
Sebastian	No matter, since They have left their viands behind; for we have stomachs. Will’t please you taste of what is here?
Alonso	Not I.
Gonzalo	Faith, sir, you need not fear. When we were boys, Who would believe that there were mountaineers Dew-lapp’d like bulls, whose throats had hanging at ’em Wallets of flesh? or that there were such men Whose heads stood in their breasts? which now we find Each putter-out of five for one will bring us Good warrant of.
Alonso	I will stand to and feed, Although my last: no matter, since I feel The best is past. Brother, my lord the duke, Stand to and do as we.
	Thunder and lightning. Enter Ariel, like a harpy; claps his wings upon the table; and, with a quaint device, the banquet vanishes.
Ariel	You are three men of sin, whom Destiny, That hath to instrument this lower world And what is in’t, the never-surfeited sea Hath caused to belch up you; and on this island Where man doth not inhabit; you ’mongst men Being most unfit to live. I have made you mad; And even with such-like valour men hang and drown Their proper selves. Alonso, Sebastian etc. draw their swords. You fools! I and my fellows Are ministers of Fate: the elements, Of whom your swords are temper’d, may as well Wound the loud winds, or with bemock’d-at stabs Kill the still-closing waters, as diminish One dowle that’s in my plume: my fellow-ministers Are like invulnerable. If you could hurt, Your swords are now too massy for your strengths And will not be uplifted. But remember⁠— For that’s my business to you⁠—that you three From Milan did supplant good Prospero; Exposed unto the sea, which hath requit it, Him and his innocent child: for which foul deed The powers, delaying, not forgetting, have Incensed the seas and shores, yea, all the creatures, Against your peace. Thee of thy son, Alonso, They have bereft; and do pronounce by me Lingering perdition, worse than any death Can be at once, shall step by step attend You and your ways; whose wraths to guard you from⁠— Which here, in this most desolate isle, else falls Upon your heads⁠—is nothing but heart-sorrow And a clear life ensuing.
	He vanishes in thunder; then, to soft music enter the Shapes again, and dance, with mocks and mows, and carrying out the table.
Prospero	Bravely the figure of this harpy hast thou Perform’d, my Ariel; a grace it had, devouring: Of my instruction hast thou nothing bated In what thou hadst to say: so, with good life And observation strange, my meaner ministers Their several kinds have done. My high charms work And these mine enemies are all knit up In their distractions; they now are in my power; And in these fits I leave them, while I visit Young Ferdinand, whom they suppose is drown’d, And his and mine loved darling. Exit above.
Gonzalo	I’ the name of something holy, sir, why stand you In this strange stare?
Alonso	O, it is monstrous, monstrous! Methought the billows spoke and told me of it; The winds did sing it to me, and the thunder, That deep and dreadful organ-pipe, pronounced The name of Prosper: it did bass my trespass. Therefore my son i’ the ooze is bedded, and I’ll seek him deeper than e’er plummet sounded And with him there lie mudded. Exit.
Sebastian	But one fiend at a time, I’ll fight their legions o’er.
Antonio	I’ll be thy second. Exeunt Sebastian, and Antonio.
Gonzalo	All three of them are desperate: their great guilt, Like poison given to work a great time after, Now ’gins to bite the spirits. I do beseech you That are of suppler joints, follow them swiftly And hinder them from what this ecstasy May now provoke them to.
Adrian	Follow, I pray you. Exeunt.

Act IV

Scene I

Before Prospero’s cell.

	Enter Prospero, Ferdinand, and Miranda.
Prospero	If I have too austerely punish’d you, Your compensation makes amends, for I Have given you here a third of mine own life, Or that for which I live; who once again I tender to thy hand: all thy vexations Were but my trials of thy love, and thou Hast strangely stood the test here, afore Heaven, I ratify this my rich gift. O Ferdinand, Do not smile at me that I boast her off, For thou shalt find she will outstrip all praise And make it halt behind her.
Ferdinand	I do believe it Against an oracle.
Prospero	Then, as my gift and thine own acquisition Worthily purchased take my daughter: but If thou dost break her virgin-knot before All sanctimonious ceremonies may With full and holy rite be minister’d, No sweet aspersion shall the heavens let fall To make this contract grow; but barren hate, Sour-eyed disdain and discord shall bestrew The union of your bed with weeds so loathly That you shall hate it both: therefore take heed, As Hymen’s lamps shall light you.
Ferdinand	As I hope For quiet days, fair issue and long life, With such love as ’tis now, the murkiest den, The most opportune place, the strong’st suggestion Our worser genius can, shall never melt Mine honour into lust, to take away The edge of that day’s celebration When I shall think: or Phoebus’ steeds are founder’d, Or Night kept chain’d below.
Prospero	Fairly spoke. Sit then and talk with her; she is thine own. What, Ariel! my industrious servant, Ariel!
	Enter Ariel.
Ariel	What would my potent master? here I am.
Prospero	Thou and thy meaner fellows your last service Did worthily perform; and I must use you In such another trick. Go bring the rabble, O’er whom I give thee power, here to this place: Incite them to quick motion; for I must Bestow upon the eyes of this young couple Some vanity of mine art: it is my promise, And they expect it from me.
Ariel	Presently?
Prospero	Ay, with a twink.
Ariel	Before you can say “come” and “go,” And breathe twice and cry “so, so,” Each one, tripping on his toe, Will be here with mop and mow. Do you love me, master? no?
Prospero	Dearly my delicate Ariel. Do not approach Till thou dost hear me call.
Ariel	Well, I conceive. Exit.
Prospero	Look thou be true; do not give dalliance Too much the rein: the strongest oaths are straw To the fire i’ the blood: be more abstemious, Or else, good night your vow!
Ferdinand	I warrant you sir; The white cold virgin snow upon my heart Abates the ardour of my liver.
Prospero	Well. Now come, my Ariel! bring a corollary, Rather than want a spirit: appear and pertly! No tongue! all eyes! be silent. Soft music.
	Enter Iris.
Iris	Ceres, most bounteous lady, thy rich leas Of wheat, rye, barley, vetches, oats and pease; Thy turfy mountains, where live nibbling sheep, And flat meads thatch’d with stover, them to keep; Thy banks with pioned and twilled brims, Which spongy April at thy hest betrims, To make cold nymphs chaste crowns; and thy broom-groves, Whose shadow the dismissed bachelor loves, Being lass-lorn; thy pole-clipt vineyard; And thy sea-marge, sterile and rocky-hard, Where thou thyself dost air;⁠—the queen o’ the sky, Whose watery arch and messenger am I, Bids thee leave these, and with her sovereign grace, Here on this grass-plot, in this very place, To come and sport: her peacocks fly amain: Approach, rich Ceres, her to entertain.
	Enter Ceres.
Ceres	Hail, many-colour’d messenger, that ne’er Dost disobey the wife of Jupiter; Who with thy saffron wings upon my flowers Diffusest honey-drops, refreshing showers, And with each end of thy blue bow dost crown My bosky acres and my unshrubb’d down, Rich scarf to my proud earth; why hath thy queen Summon’d me hither, to this short-grass’d green?
Iris	A contract of true love to celebrate; And some donation freely to estate On the blest lovers.
Ceres	Tell me, heavenly bow, If Venus or her son, as thou dost know, Do now attend the queen? Since they did plot The means that dusky Dis my daughter got, Her and her blind boy’s scandal’d company I have forsworn.
Iris	Of her society Be not afraid: I met her deity Cutting the clouds towards Paphos and her son Dove-drawn with her. Here thought they to have done Some wanton charm upon this man and maid, Whose vows are, that no bed-right shall be paid Till Hymen’s torch be lighted: but vain; Mars’s hot minion is returned again; Her waspish-headed son has broke his arrows, Swears he will shoot no more but play with sparrows And be a boy right out.
Ceres	High’st queen of state, Great Juno, comes; I know her by her gait.
	Enter Juno.
Juno	How does my bounteous sister? Go with me To bless this twain, that they may prosperous be And honour’d in their issue. They sing:
Juno	Honour, riches, marriage-blessing, Long continuance, and increasing, Hourly joys be still upon you! Juno sings her blessings on you.
Ceres	Earth’s increase, foison plenty, Barns and garners never empty, Vines and clustering bunches growing, Plants with goodly burthen bowing; Spring come to you at the farthest In the very end of harvest! Scarcity and want shall shun you; Ceres’ blessing so is on you.
Ferdinand	This is a most majestic vision, and Harmoniously charmingly. May I be bold To think these spirits?
Prospero	Spirits, which by mine art I have from their confines call’d to enact My present fancies.
Ferdinand	Let me live here ever; So rare a wonder’d father and a wife Makes this place Paradise. Juno and Ceres whisper, and send Iris on employment.
Prospero	Sweet, now, silence! Juno and Ceres whisper seriously; There’s something else to do: hush, and be mute, Or else our spell is marr’d.
Iris	You nymphs, call’d Naiads, of the windring brooks, With your sedged crowns and ever-harmless looks, Leave your crisp channels and on this green land Answer your summons; Juno does command: Come, temperate nymphs, and help to celebrate A contract of true love; be not too late.
	Enter certain Nymphs.
	You sunburnt sicklemen, of August weary, Come hither from the furrow and be merry: Make holiday; your rye-straw hats put on And these fresh nymphs encounter every one In country footing.
	Enter certain Reapers, properly habited: they join with the Nymphs in a graceful dance; towards the end whereof Prospero starts suddenly, and speaks; after which, to a strange, hollow, and confused noise, they heavily vanish.
Prospero	Aside I had forgot that foul conspiracy Of the beast Caliban and his confederates Against my life: the minute of their plot Is almost come. To the Spirits. Well done! avoid; no more!
Ferdinand	This is strange: your father’s in some passion That works him strongly.
Miranda	Never till this day Saw I him touch’d with anger so distemper’d.
Prospero	You do look, my son, in a moved sort, As if you were dismay’d: be cheerful, sir. Our revels now are ended. These our actors, As I foretold you, were all spirits and Are melted into air, into thin air: And, like the baseless fabric of this vision, The cloud-capp’d towers, the gorgeous palaces, The solemn temples, the great globe itself, Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve And, like this insubstantial pageant faded, Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff As dreams are made on, and our little life Is rounded with a sleep. Sir, I am vex’d; Bear with my weakness; my old brain is troubled: Be not disturb’d with my infirmity: If you be pleased, retire into my cell And there repose: a turn or two I’ll walk, To still my beating mind.
Miranda	We wish your peace. Exeunt.
Prospero	Come with a thought I thank thee, Ariel: come.
	Enter Ariel.
Ariel	Thy thoughts I cleave to. What’s thy pleasure?
Prospero	Spirit, We must prepare to meet with Caliban.
Ariel	Ay, my commander: when I presented Ceres, I thought to have told thee of it, but I fear’d Lest I might anger thee.
Prospero	Say again, where didst thou leave these varlets?
Ariel	I told you, sir, they were red-hot with drinking; So fun of valour that they smote the air For breathing in their faces; beat the ground For kissing of their feet; yet always bending Towards their project. Then I beat my tabor; At which, like unback’d colts, they prick’d their ears, Advanced their eyelids, lifted up their noses As they smelt music: so I charm’d their ears That calf-like they my lowing follow’d through Tooth’d briers, sharp furzes, pricking goss and thorns, Which entered their frail shins: at last I left them I’ the filthy-mantled pool beyond your cell, There dancing up to the chins, that the foul lake O’erstunk their feet.
Prospero	This was well done, my bird. Thy shape invisible retain thou still: The trumpery in my house, go bring it hither, For stale to catch these thieves.
Ariel	I go, I go. Exit.
Prospero	A devil, a born devil, on whose nature Nurture can never stick; on whom my pains, Humanely taken, all, all lost, quite lost; And as with age his body uglier grows, So his mind cankers. I will plague them all, Even to roaring.
	Re-enter Ariel, loaden with glistering apparel, etc.
	Come, hang them on this line.
	Prospero and Ariel remain invisible. Enter Caliban, Stephano, and Trinculo, all wet.
Caliban	Pray you, tread softly, that the blind mole may not Hear a foot fall: we now are near his cell.
Stephano	Monster, your fairy, which you say is a harmless fairy, has done little better than played the Jack with us.
Trinculo	Monster, I do smell all horse-piss; at which my nose is in great indignation.
Stephano	So is mine. Do you hear, monster? If I should take a displeasure against you, look you,⁠—
Trinculo	Thou wert but a lost monster.
Caliban	Good my lord, give me thy favour still. Be patient, for the prize I’ll bring thee to Shall hoodwink this mischance: therefore speak softly. All’s hush’d as midnight yet.
Trinculo	Ay, but to lose our bottles in the pool,⁠—
Stephano	There is not only disgrace and dishonour in that, monster, but an infinite loss.
Trinculo	That’s more to me than my wetting: yet this is your harmless fairy, monster.
Stephano	I will fetch off my bottle, though I be o’er ears for my labour.
Caliban	Prithee, my king, be quiet. Seest thou here, This is the mouth o’ the cell: no noise, and enter. Do that good mischief which may make this island Thine own for ever, and I, thy Caliban, For aye thy foot-licker.
Stephano	Give me thy hand. I do begin to have bloody thoughts.
Trinculo	O king Stephano! O peer! O worthy Stephano! look what a wardrobe here is for thee!
Caliban	Let it alone, thou fool; it is but trash.
Trinculo	O, ho, monster! we know what belongs to a frippery. O king Stephano!
Stephano	Put off that gown, Trinculo; by this hand, I’ll have that gown.
Trinculo	Thy grace shall have it.
Caliban	The dropsy drown this fool! what do you mean To dote thus on such luggage? Let’s alone And do the murder first: if he awake, From toe to crown he’ll fill our skins with pinches, Make us strange stuff.
Stephano	Be you quiet, monster. Mistress line, is not this my jerkin? Now is the jerkin under the line: now, jerkin, you are like to lose your hair and prove a bald jerkin.
Trinculo	Do, do: we steal by line and level, an’t like your grace.
Stephano	I thank thee for that jest; here’s a garment for’t: wit shall not go unrewarded while I am king of this country. “Steal by line and level” is an excellent pass of pate; there’s another garment for’t.
Trinculo	Monster, come, put some lime upon your fingers, and away with the rest.
Caliban	I will have none on’t: we shall lose our time, And all be turn’d to barnacles, or to apes With foreheads villanous low.
Stephano	Monster, lay-to your fingers: help to bear this away where my hogshead of wine is, or I’ll turn you out of my kingdom: go to, carry this.
Trinculo	And this.
Stephano	Ay, and this.
	A noise of hunters heard. Enter divers Spirits, in shape of dogs and hounds, and hunt them about, Prospero and Ariel setting them on.
Prospero	Hey, Mountain, hey!
Ariel	Silver! there it goes, Silver!
Prospero	Fury, Fury! there, Tyrant, there! hark! hark! Caliban, Stephano, and Trinculo, are driven out. Go charge my goblins that they grind their joints With dry convulsions, shorten up their sinews With aged cramps, and more pinch-spotted make them Than pard or cat o’ mountain.
Ariel	Hark, they roar!
Prospero	Let them be hunted soundly. At this hour Lie at my mercy all mine enemies: Shortly shall all my labours end, and thou Shalt have the air at freedom: for a little Follow, and do me service. Exeunt.

Act V

Scene I

Before Prospero’s cell.

	Enter Prospero in his magic robes, and Ariel.
Prospero	Now does my project gather to a head: My charms crack not; my spirits obey; and time Goes upright with his carriage. How’s the day?
Ariel	On the sixth hour; at which time, my lord, You said our work should cease.
Prospero	I did say so, When first I raised the tempest. Say, my spirit, How fares the king and’s followers?
Ariel	Confined together In the same fashion as you gave in charge, Just as you left them; all prisoners, sir, In the line-grove which weather-fends your cell; They cannot budge till your release. The king, His brother and yours, abide all three distracted And the remainder mourning over them, Brimful of sorrow and dismay; but chiefly Him that you term’d, sir, “The good old lord Gonzalo;” His tears run down his beard, like winter’s drops From eaves of reeds. Your charm so strongly works ’em That if you now beheld them, your affections Would become tender.
Prospero	Dost thou think so, spirit?
Ariel	Mine would, sir, were I human.
Prospero	And mine shall. Hast thou, which art but air, a touch, a feeling Of their afflictions, and shall not myself, One of their kind, that relish all as sharply, Passion as they, be kindlier moved than thou art? Though with their high wrongs I am struck to the quick, Yet with my nobler reason ’gainst my fury Do I take part: the rarer action is In virtue than in vengeance: they being penitent, The sole drift of my purpose doth extend Not a frown further. Go release them, Ariel: My charms I’ll break, their senses I’ll restore, And they shall be themselves.
Ariel	I’ll fetch them, sir. Exit.
Prospero	Ye elves of hills, brooks, standing lakes and groves, And ye that on the sands with printless foot Do chase the ebbing Neptune and do fly him When he comes back; you demi-puppets that By moonshine do the green sour ringlets make, Whereof the ewe not bites, and you whose pastime Is to make midnight mushrooms, that rejoice To hear the solemn curfew; by whose aid, Weak masters though ye be, I have bedimm’d The noontide sun, call’d forth the mutinous winds, And ’twixt the green sea and the azured vault Set roaring war: to the dread rattling thunder Have I given fire and rifted Jove’s stout oak With his own bolt; the strong-based promontory Have I made shake and by the spurs pluck’d up The pine and cedar: graves at my command Have waked their sleepers, oped, and let ’em forth By my so potent art. But this rough magic I here abjure, and, when I have required Some heavenly music, which even now I do, To work mine end upon their senses that This airy charm is for, I’ll break my staff, Bury it certain fathoms in the earth, And deeper than did ever plummet sound I’ll drown my book. Solemn music.
	Re-enter Ariel before: then Alonso, with a frantic gesture, attended by Gonzalo; Sebastian and Antonio in like manner, attended by Adrian and Francisco they all enter the circle which Prospero had made, and there stand charmed; which Prospero observing, speaks:
	A solemn air and the best comforter To an unsettled fancy cure thy brains, Now useless, boil’d within thy skull! There stand, For you are spell-stopp’d. Holy Gonzalo, honourable man, Mine eyes, even sociable to the show of thine, Fall fellowly drops. The charm dissolves apace, And as the morning steals upon the night, Melting the darkness, so their rising senses Begin to chase the ignorant fumes that mantle Their clearer reason. O good Gonzalo, My true preserver, and a loyal sir To him you follow’st! I will pay thy graces Home both in word and deed. Most cruelly Didst thou, Alonso, use me and my daughter: Thy brother was a furtherer in the act. Thou art pinch’d fort now, Sebastian. Flesh and blood, You, brother mine, that entertain’d ambition, Expell’d remorse and nature; who, with Sebastian, Whose inward pinches therefore are most strong, Would here have kill’d your king; I do forgive thee, Unnatural though thou art. Their understanding Begins to swell, and the approaching tide Will shortly fill the reasonable shore That now lies foul and muddy. Not one of them That yet looks on me, or would know me: Ariel, Fetch me the hat and rapier in my cell: I will discase me, and myself present As I was sometime Milan: quickly, spirit; Thou shalt ere long be free.
	Ariel sings and helps to attire him.
	Where the bee sucks, there suck I: In a cowslip’s bell I lie; There I couch when owls do cry. On the bat’s back I do fly After summer merrily. Merrily, merrily shall I live now Under the blossom that hangs on the bough.
Prospero	Why, that’s my dainty Ariel! I shall miss thee; But yet thou shalt have freedom: so, so, so. To the king’s ship, invisible as thou art: There shalt thou find the mariners asleep Under the hatches; the master and the boatswain Being awake, enforce them to this place, And presently, I prithee.
Ariel	I drink the air before me, and return Or ere your pulse twice beat. Exit.
Gonzalo	All torment, trouble, wonder and amazement Inhabits here: some heavenly power guide us Out of this fearful country!
Prospero	Behold, sir king, The wronged Duke of Milan, Prospero: For more assurance that a living prince Does now speak to thee, I embrace thy body; And to thee and thy company I bid A hearty welcome.
Alonso	Whether thou best he or no, Or some enchanted trifle to abuse me, As late I have been, I not know: thy pulse Beats as of flesh and blood; and, since I saw thee, The affliction of my mind amends, with which, I fear, a madness held me: this must crave, An if this be at all, a most strange story. Thy dukedom I resign and do entreat Thou pardon me my wrongs. But how should Prospero Be living and be here?
Prospero	First, noble friend, Let me embrace thine age, whose honour cannot Be measured or confined.
Gonzalo	Whether this be Or be not, I’ll not swear.
Prospero	You do yet taste Some subtilties o’ the isle, that will not let you Believe things certain. Welcome, my friends all! Aside to Sebastian and Antonio. But you, my brace of lords, were I so minded, I here could pluck his highness’ frown upon you And justify you traitors: at this time I will tell no tales.
Sebastian	Aside The devil speaks in him.
Prospero	No. For you, most wicked sir, whom to call brother Would even infect my mouth, I do forgive Thy rankest fault; all of them; and require My dukedom of thee, which perforce, I know, Thou must restore.
Alonso	If thou be’st Prospero, Give us particulars of thy preservation; How thou hast met us here, who three hours since Were wreck’d upon this shore; where I have lost⁠— How sharp the point of this remembrance is!⁠— My dear son Ferdinand.
Prospero	I am woe for’t, sir.
Alonso	Irreparable is the loss, and patience Says it is past her cure.
Prospero	I rather think You have not sought her help, of whose soft grace For the like loss I have her sovereign aid And rest myself content.
Alonso	You the like loss!
Prospero	As great to me as late; and, supportable To make the dear loss, have I means much weaker Than you may call to comfort you, for I Have lost my daughter.
Alonso	A daughter? O heavens, that they were living both in Naples, The king and queen there! that they were, I wish Myself were mudded in that oozy bed Where my son lies. When did you lose your daughter?
Prospero	In this last tempest. I perceive, these lords At this encounter do so much admire That they devour their reason and scarce think Their eyes do offices of truth, their words Are natural breath: but, howsoe’er you have Been justled from your senses, know for certain That I am Prospero and that very duke Which was thrust forth of Milan, who most strangely Upon this shore, where you were wreck’d, was landed, To be the lord on’t. No more yet of this; For ’tis a chronicle of day by day, Not a relation for a breakfast nor Befitting this first meeting. Welcome, sir; This cell’s my court: here have I few attendants And subjects none abroad: pray you, look in. My dukedom since you have given me again, I will requite you with as good a thing; At least bring forth a wonder, to content ye As much as me my dukedom.
	Here Prospero discovers Ferdinand and Miranda playing at chess.
Miranda	Sweet lord, you play me false.
Ferdinand	No, my dear’st love, I would not for the world.
Miranda	Yes, for a score of kingdoms you should wrangle, And I would call it, fair play.
Alonso	If this prove A vision of the Island, one dear son Shall I twice lose.
Sebastian	A most high miracle!
Ferdinand	Though the seas threaten, they are merciful; I have cursed them without cause. Kneels.
Alonso	Now all the blessings Of a glad father compass thee about! Arise, and say how thou camest here.
Miranda	O, wonder! How many goodly creatures are there here! How beauteous mankind is! O brave new world, That has such people in’t!
Prospero	’Tis new to thee.
Alonso	What is this maid with whom thou wast at play? Your eld’st acquaintance cannot be three hours: Is she the goddess that hath sever’d us, And brought us thus together?
Ferdinand	Sir, she is mortal; But by immortal Providence she’s mine: I chose her when I could not ask my father For his advice, nor thought I had one. She Is daughter to this famous Duke of Milan, Of whom so often I have heard renown, But never saw before; of whom I have Received a second life; and second father This lady makes him to me.
Alonso	I am hers: But, O, how oddly will it sound that I Must ask my child forgiveness!
Prospero	There, sir, stop: Let us not burthen our remembrance with A heaviness that’s gone.
Gonzalo	I have inly wept, Or should have spoke ere this. Look down, you gods, And on this couple drop a blessed crown! For it is you that have chalk’d forth the way Which brought us hither.
Alonso	I say, Amen, Gonzalo!
Gonzalo	Was Milan thrust from Milan, that his issue Should become kings of Naples? O, rejoice Beyond a common joy, and set it down With gold on lasting pillars: In one voyage Did Claribel her husband find at Tunis, And Ferdinand, her brother, found a wife Where he himself was lost, Prospero his dukedom In a poor isle and all of us ourselves When no man was his own.
Alonso	To Ferdinand and Miranda. Give me your hands: Let grief and sorrow still embrace his heart That doth not wish you joy!
Gonzalo	Be it so! Amen!
	Re-enter Ariel, with the Master and Boatswain amazedly following.
	O, look, sir, look, sir! here is more of us: I prophesied, if a gallows were on land, This fellow could not drown. Now, blasphemy, That swear’st grace o’erboard, not an oath on shore? Hast thou no mouth by land? What is the news?
Boatswain	The best news is, that we have safely found Our king and company; the next, our ship⁠— Which, but three glasses since, we gave out split⁠— Is tight and yare and bravely rigg’d as when We first put out to sea.
Ariel	Aside to Prospero. Sir, all this service Have I done since I went.
Prospero	Aside to Ariel. My tricksy spirit!
Alonso	These are not natural events; they strengthen From strange to stranger. Say, how came you hither?
Boatswain	If I did think, sir, I were well awake, I’ld strive to tell you. We were dead of sleep, And⁠—how we know not⁠—all clapp’d under hatches; Where but even now with strange and several noises Of roaring, shrieking, howling, jingling chains, And moe diversity of sounds, all horrible, We were awaked; straightway, at liberty; Where we, in all her trim, freshly beheld Our royal, good and gallant ship, our master Capering to eye her: on a trice, so please you, Even in a dream, were we divided from them And were brought moping hither.
Ariel	Aside to Prospero. Was’t well done?
Prospero	Aside to Ariel. Bravely, my diligence. Thou shalt be free.
Alonso	This is as strange a maze as e’er men trod; And there is in this business more than nature Was ever conduct of: some oracle Must rectify our knowledge.
Prospero	Sir, my liege, Do not infest your mind with beating on The strangeness of this business; at pick’d leisure Which shall be shortly, single I’ll resolve you, Which to you shall seem probable, of every These happen’d accidents; till when, be cheerful And think of each thing well. Aside to Ariel. Come hither, spirit: Set Caliban and his companions free; Untie the spell. Exit Ariel. How fares my gracious sir? There are yet missing of your company Some few odd lads that you remember not.
	Re-enter Ariel, driving in Caliban, Stephano and Trinculo, in their stolen apparel.
Stephano	Every man shift for all the rest, and let no man take care for himself; for all is but fortune. Coragio, bully-monster, coragio!
Trinculo	If these be true spies which I wear in my head, here’s a goodly sight.
Caliban	O Setebos, these be brave spirits indeed! How fine my master is! I am afraid He will chastise me.
Sebastian	Ha, ha! What things are these, my lord Antonio? Will money buy ’em?
Antonio	Very like; one of them Is a plain fish, and, no doubt, marketable.
Prospero	Mark but the badges of these men, my lords, Then say if they be true. This mis-shapen knave, His mother was a witch, and one so strong That could control the moon, make flows and ebbs, And deal in her command without her power. These three have robb’d me; and this demi-devil⁠— For he’s a bastard one⁠—had plotted with them To take my life. Two of these fellows you Must know and own; this thing of darkness I Acknowledge mine.
Caliban	I shall be pinch’d to death.
Alonso	Is not this Stephano, my drunken butler?
Sebastian	He is drunk now: where had he wine?
Alonso	And Trinculo is reeling ripe: where should they Find this grand liquor that hath gilded ’em? How camest thou in this pickle?
Trinculo	I have been in such a pickle since I saw you last that, I fear me, will never out of my bones: I shall not fear fly-blowing.
Sebastian	Why, how now, Stephano!
Stephano	O, touch me not; I am not Stephano, but a cramp.
Prospero	You’ld be king o’ the isle, sirrah?
Stephano	I should have been a sore one then.
Alonso	This is a strange thing as e’er I look’d on. Pointing to Caliban.
Prospero	He is as disproportion’d in his manners As in his shape. Go, sirrah, to my cell; Take with you your companions; as you look To have my pardon, trim it handsomely.
Caliban	Ay, that I will; and I’ll be wise hereafter And seek for grace. What a thrice-double ass Was I, to take this drunkard for a god And worship this dull fool!
Prospero	Go to; away!
Alonso	Hence, and bestow your luggage where you found it.
Sebastian	Or stole it, rather. Exeunt Caliban, Stephano, and Trinculo.
Prospero	Sir, I invite your highness and your train To my poor cell, where you shall take your rest For this one night; which, part of it, I’ll waste With such discourse as, I not doubt, shall make it Go quick away; the story of my life And the particular accidents gone by Since I came to this isle: and in the morn I’ll bring you to your ship and so to Naples, Where I have hope to see the nuptial Of these our dear-beloved solemnized; And thence retire me to my Milan, where Every third thought shall be my grave.
Alonso	I long To hear the story of your life, which must Take the ear strangely.
Prospero	I’ll deliver all; And promise you calm seas, auspicious gales And sail so expeditious that shall catch Your royal fleet far off. Aside to Ariel. My Ariel, chick, That is thy charge: then to the elements Be free, and fare thou well! Please you, draw near. Exeunt.

Epilogue

Spoken by Prospero.

Prospero

Now my charms are all o’erthrown, And what strength I have’s mine own, Which is most faint: now, ’tis true, I must be here confined by you, Or sent to Naples. Let me not, Since I have my dukedom got And pardon’d the deceiver, dwell In this bare island by your spell; But release me from my bands With the help of your good hands: Gentle breath of yours my sails Must fill, or else my project fails, Which was to please. Now I want Spirits to enforce, art to enchant, And my ending is despair, Unless I be relieved by prayer, Which pierces so that it assaults Mercy itself and frees all faults. As you from crimes would pardon’d be, Let your indulgence set me free.

The Tempest
was published in 1623 by
William Shakespeare.