Mira.

Alack, for pity!

I. not rememb'ring how I cried out then,

Will cry it o'er again: it is a hint,

That wrings mine eyes to 't.
Pro.

Hear a little farther,
And then I'll bring thee to the present business
Which now's upon 's; without the which this story
Were most impertinent.
Mira.

That hour destroy us?

Pro.

Wherefore did they not

Well demanded, wench:

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.

Ari. 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.

Pro.
Hast thou, spirit,
Perform'd to point the tempest that I bade thee?
Ari. To every article.

I boarded the king's ship; now on the beak,
Now in the waist, the deck, in every cabin,

I flam'd amazement: sometimes, I'd divide,

My tale provokes that question. Dear, they durst not, And burn in many places; on the topmast,

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 prepar'd
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.
Mira.

Alack! what trouble

Was I then to you!
Pro.
O a cherubim
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,
Lader my burden groan'd; which rais'd in me
An undergoing stomach, to bear up

Against what should ensue.

Mira.

How came we ashore?

Pro. By Providence divine.
Some food we had, and some fresh water, that
A noble Neapolitan, Gonzalo,

Out of his charity, (who being then appointed
Master of this design) did give us; with
Beh garments, linens, stuffs, and necessaries,

Which since have steaded much so, of his gentleness,
Knowing I lov'd my books, he furnish'd me,

From

my own library, with volumes that

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.

Pro.
My brave spirit!
Who was so firm, so constant, that this coil
Would not infect his reason?

Ari.
Not a soul
But felt a fever of the mad, and play'd
Some tricks of desperation. All, but mariners,
Plung'd in the foaming brine, and quit the vessel,
Then all a-fire 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."

Not a hair perish'd;

On their sustaining garments not a blemish,
But fresher than before: and, as thou bad'st me,
In troops I have dispers'd 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.

purpose: in f. e. butt: in f e. 3 have: in f. e. This direction is not in f. e. princess: in f. e.

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;
Whom, with a charm joined to their suffer'd labour,
I have left asleep and for the rest o' the fleet
Which I dispers'd, they all have met again,
And all' upon the Mediterranean float,2
Bound sadly home for Naples,

Supposing that they saw the king's ship wreck'd,
And his great person perish.

Pro.
Ariel, thy charge
Exactly is perform'd; but there's more work.
What is the time o' the day?

Ari.

Past the mid season.

speak; tell me.

Ari. Sir, in Argier.

Pro. 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?
Ari. Ay, sir.

Yes; Caliban, her son.

Pro. 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.

Ari.
I thank thee, master.
Pro. 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.

Ari.

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

I will discharge thee.

Ari.

Pardon, maste

Do so, and after two day

That's my noble master!

What shall I do? say what? what shall I do?
Pro. Go, make thyself a like nymph' o' the sea: t
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 ARIEE
Awake, dear heart, awake! thou hast slept well;
Awake!
Mira. The strangeness of your story put [Waking.
Heaviness in me.

Pro.
Shake it off. Come on:
We'll visit Caliban, my slave, who never
Yields us kind answer.

Mira.

I do not love to look on.

'Tis a villain, sir,

But, as 'tis,

Pro.
We cannot miss him: he does make our fire,
Fetch in our wood, and serves in offices
That profit us.-What ho! slave! Caliban!
Thou earth, thou! speak.

Cal. [Within] There's wood enough within.
Pro. Come forth, I say; there's other business for thee.
Come, thou tortoise! when?

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

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

Enter CALIBAN.

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

Pro. This blue-eyed hag was hither brought with With raven's feather from unwholesome fen,
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,

Drop on you both! a south-west blow on ye,
And blister you all o'er!

Pro. For this, be sure, to-night thou shalt have cramps,
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 honey-combs, each pinch more stinging
Than bees that made 'em.

Cal.
I must eat my dinner.
This island's mine, by Sycorax my mother,

Which thou tak'st from me. When thou cam'st here first,

1 are in f. e. flote: in f. e. the: in f. e. like a in 1. e. Not in f. e. 6 honey-comb in f. e.

Thou strok'dst me, and mad'st much of me; would'st | Weeping again the king my father's wreck, 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 lov'd thee,
And show'd thee all the qualities o' th' 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 of th' island.

Pro.

Thou most lying slave,

Which any print of goodness will 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 would'st 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 confin'd into this rock,

Who hadst deserv'd more than a prison.

Cal. You taught me language; and my profit on't
Is. I know how to curse. The red plague rid you,
For learning me your language!
Pro.

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

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 :

[Burden: ding-dong,
Hark! now I hear them,-ding-dong, bell.
Fer. The ditty does remember my drown'd father.-
This is no mortal business, nor no sound

That the earth owes3-I hear it now above me.

[Music above.
Pro. The fringed curtains of thine eye advance
And say, what thou seest yond'.
Mira.

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

Pro. No, wench: it eats, and sleeps, and hath such

senses

As we have; such. This gallant, which thou seest,
Was in the wreck; and but he's something stain'd
With grief, that's beauty's canker, thou might'st call him
A goodly person. He hath lost his fellows,
And strays about to find 'em.

Mira.

I might call him
A thing divine, for nothing natural
I ever saw so noble.
Pro.
As my soul prompts it:-Spirit, fine spirit! I'll free thee
Within two days for this.

It goes on, I see,

[Aside.

Fer.
Most sure, the goddess [Seeing her.'
On whom these airs attend !-Vouchsafe, my prayer
May know if you remain upon this island, [Kneels.*
And that you will some good instruction give,
How I may bear me here: my prime request,
No, pray thee! Which I do last pronounce, is, O you wonder!
If you be maid, or no?

What I command, I'll rack thee with old cramps;
Fill all thy bones with aches; make thee roar,
That beasts shall tremble at thy din.
Cal.

I must obey; his art is of such power,
It would control my dam's god, Setebos,
And make a vassal of him.

Pro.

[Aside.

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:

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

Foot it featly here and there ;

And, sweet sprites, the burden bear.
Hark, hark!

Burden. Bow, wow.

The watch dogs bark:

Burden. Bow, wow.

Hark, hark! I hear

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

[Dispersedly.

[earth?

Fer. Where should this music be? i' th' air, or th'
It sounds no more;-and sure, it waits upon
Some god o th island. Sitting on a bank,

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

Pro.
How! the best?
What wert thou, if the king of Naples heard thee?
Fer. A single thing, as I am now, that wonders
To hear thee speak of Naples. He does hear me,
And that he does I weep; myself am Naples;
Who with mine eyes, ne'er since at ebb, beheld
The king, my father, wreck'd.

Mira.
Alack, for mercy!
Fer. Yes, faith, and all his lords; the duke of Milan,
And his brave son, being twain.

Pro.
The duke of Milan,
And his more braver daughter, could control thee,
If now 'twere fit to do't.-[Aside.] At the first sight
They have chang'd eyes-delicate Ariel,
I'll set thee free for this!-[To him.] A word, good sir,
I fear, you have done yourself some wrong: a word.
Mira. Why speaks my father so ungently? This

fe have "him." 2 The old copies read: "Foot it featly here and there, and sweet sprites bear the burden." The MS. annotator of the folio of 1632, anticipated later critics in altering the passage as it stands in the text. 30wrs. Not in f. e. Not in f. e. Sot in fe

1 Not in f. e.

Fer.
And your affection not gone forth, I'll make you
The queen of Naples.
Pro.
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

ACT II

Mira.
Beseech you, father!
Pro. Hence! hang not on my garments.
Mira.
I'll be his surety.

Sir, have pity:

Silence! one word more

Pro.

Shall make me chide thee, if not hate thee. What!
An advocate for an impostor? hush!

Thou think'st there are no more such shapes as he,
Having seen but him and Caliban: foolish wench!
To the most of men this is a Caliban,

Make the prize light.-[To him.] One word more: I And they to him are angels.

charge thee,

That thou attend me.

Thou dost here usurp

The name thou ow'st not; and hast put thyself
Upon this island as a spy, to win it

From me, the lord on't.

No, as I am a man.

Fer.
Mira. 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.

Pro. Follow me.

[To FERD.

Speak not you for him; he's a traitor.-Come.
I'll manacle thy neck and feet together;
Sea-water shalt thou drink, thy food shall be
The fresh-brook muscles, wither'd roots, and husks
Wherein the acorn cradled. Follow.

Fer.

I will resist such entertainment, till
Mine enemy has more power.

No;

[He draws, and is charmed from moving.
O, dear father!

Mira.
Make not too rash a trial of him, for
He's gentle, and not fearful.

Pro.
What! I say:
My foot my tutor?-Put thy sword up, traitor;
Who mak'st a show, but dar'st not strike, thy conscience
Is so possess'd with guilt: Come from thy ward,
For I can here disarm thee with this stick,
And make thy weapon drop.

ACT II.

SCENE I.-Another part of the Island.
Enter ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, GONZALO,
ADRIAN, FRANCISCO and Others.

Gon. Beseech you, sir, be merry: you have cause
(So have we all) of joy, for our escape
Is much beyond our loss. Our hint of woe
Is common: every day, some sailor's wife,

The master' 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.

Seb. Ay, and a subtle, as he most learnedly delivered.
Adr. The air breathes upon us here most sweetly.
Seb. As if it had lungs, and rotten ones.
Ant. Or as 'twere perfumed by a fen.

Gon. Here is every thing advantageous to life.
Ant. True; save means to live.

Seb. Of that there's none, or little.

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

Gon. How lush' and lusty the grass looks! how green! To the shore, that o'er his wave-worn basis bow'd,
Ant. The ground, indeed, is tawny.

Seb. With an eye2 of green in 't.

Ant. He misses not much.

Seb. No; he doth but mistake the truth totally. Gon. But the rarity of it is, which is indeed almost be fond credit

Sb. As many vouch'd rarities are.

As stooping to relieve him. I not doubt,
He came alive to land.

Alon.

No, no; he's gone.

Seb. Sir, you may thank yourself for this great loss
That would not bless our Europe with your daughter,
But rather lose her to an African;

Where she, at least, is banish'd from your eye,
Who hath cause to wet the grief on 't.
Alon.
Pr'ythee, peace.
Seb. You were kneel'd to, and importun'd otherwise
By all of us; and the fair soul herself

Gon. That our garments, being, as they were,
drenched in the sea, hold, notwithstanding, their fresh-
ness, and glosses; being rather new dyed, than stain'd
with salt water.
Ant. If but one of his pockets could speak, would it Weigh'd between lothness and obedience, as
not say, he lies?

Seb. Ay, or very falsely pocket up his report.

Gon. Methinks, our garments are now as fresh as when we put them on first in Afric, at the marriage of the king's fair daughter Claribel to the king of Tunis. Seb. 'Twas a sweet marriage, and we prosper well in our return.

Adr. Tunis was never graced before with such a paragon to their queen.

Gon. Not since widow Dido's time.

Ant. Widow? a pox o' that! How came that widow in? Widow Dido!

Seb. What if he had said, widower Æneas too? good lord, how you take it!

Adr. Widow Dido, said you! you make me study of that: she was of Carthage, not of Tunis. Gon. This Tunis, sir, was Carthage.

Adr. Carthage?

Gon. I assure you, Carthage.

Ant. His word is more than the miraculous harp.
Seb. He hath rais'd the wall, and houses too.
Ant. What impossible matter will he make easy next?
Seb. I think he will carry this island home in his
pocket, and give it his son for an apple.

Ant. And sowing the kernels of it in the sea, bring forth more islands.

Gon. Ay?

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

Gon. Had I plantation of this isle, my lord,—
Ant. He'd sow 't with neddle-seed.

Seb.
Or docks, or mallows.
Gon. And were the king on't, what would I do?
Seb. 'Scape being drunk, for want of wine.
Gon. I' the commonwealth I would by contraries
Execute all things, for no kind of traffic
Would I admit ; no name of magistrate;
Letters should not be known; riches, poverty,
And use of service, none; contract, succession,
Bourn, bound of land, tilth, vineyard, none;
No use of metal, corn, or wine, or oil:
No occupation, all men idle, all;
And women, too, but innocent and pure.
No sovereignty :-

Seb. Yet he would be king on't.

Ant. The latter end of this commonwealth forgets

Gon. Is not, sir, my doublet as fresh as the first day the beginning. I wore it? I mean, in a sort.

Ant. That sort was well fish'd for.

Gon. When I wore it at your daughter's marriage?
Alon. You cram these words into mine ears. against
The stomach of my sense. Would I had never
Married my daughter there! for, coming thence,
My son is lost; and, in my rate, she too,
Who is so far from Italy remov'd,

I ne'er again shall see her. O thou, mine heir
Of Naples and of Milan! what strange fish
Hath made his meal on thee?

Gon. All things in common nature should produce,
Without sweat or endeavour: treason, felony,
Sword, pike, knife, gun, or need of any engine,
Would I not have; but nature should bring forth,
Of its own kind, all foisson, all abundance,
To feed my innocent people.

6

Seb. No marrying 'mong his subjects?

Ant. None, man; all idle; whores, and knaves. Gon. I would with such perfection govern, sir, To excel the golden age.

Seb.

'Save his majesty!

1 Juicy. Slight shade of color. 3 at: in fe. She'd in f. e. It is a nation, would I answer Plato, that hath no kinde of traffike, knowledge of Letters, no intelligence of numbers, no name of magistrate, nor of politike superioritie; no use of service, of riches, er of povertie; no contracts, no successions, no dividences, no occupation but idle; no respect of kinred, but common, no apparel but estra, no manuring of lands, no use of wine. corne, or mettle. The very that import lying, falshood, treason, dissimulations covetmunca, envie, detraction, and pardon, were never heard of amongst them -Montaigne, Florio's translation, 1603. • Plenty.