Imatges de pÓgina
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Exactly is perform'd; but there's more work: What is the time o' the day?

Ari. Past the mid season.

Pro. At least two glasses: The time 'twixt six and now,

Must by us both be spent most preciously. Ari. Is there more toil? Since thou dost give me pains,

Let me remember thee what thou hast promis'd, Which is not yet perform'd me.

Pro. How now? moody?
What is't thou can'st demand?
Ari. My liberty.

Pro. Before the time be out? no more.
Ari. I pray thee,

Remember, I have done thee worthy service;
Told thee no lies, made no mistakings, serv'd
Without or grudge, or grumblings: thou didst
promise

To bate me a full year.

Pro. Dost thou forget

From what a torment I did free thee?

Ari. No.

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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.

Pro. This blue-ey'd 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 did'st painfully remain
A dozen years; within which space she died,
And left thee there; where thou did'st vent thy

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(Save for the son that she did litter here, A freckled whelp, hag-born,) not honour'd with A human shape.

Ari. Yes; Caliban, her son.

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 arriv'd, 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. Pardon, master:

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

Pro. Do so; and after two days
I will discharge thee.

Ari. That's my noble master!

What shall I do? say what? what shall I do?
Pro. Go make thyself like to a nymph o' the sea;
Be subject to no sight but mine; invisible
To every eye-ball else. Go, take this shape,
And hither come in't: hence, with diligence.-
[Exit Ariel

Awake, dear heart, awake! thou hast slept well:
Awake!

Mira. The strangeness of your story put Heaviness on me.

Pro. Shake it off: Come on;

We'll visit Caliban, my slave, who never
Yields us kind answer.

Mira. 'Tis a villain, sir,

I do not love to look on.
Pro. But, as 'tis,

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

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

Come forth, thou tortoise! when?

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

Ari. My lord, it shall be done. [Exit. Pro. Thou poisonous slave, got by the devil himself

Upon thy wicked dam, come forth!

Enter CALIBAN.

Cal. As wicked dew as e'er my mother brush'd With raven's feather from unwholesome fen, Drop on you both! a south-west blow on ye, And blister you all o'er!

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

cramps,

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 them.

Cal. I must eat my dinner.

This island's mine, by Sycorax my mother, Which thou tak'st from me. When thou cam'st first,

Thou strok'dst me, and mad'st much of me; would'st 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 shew'd thee all the qualities o' the isle,
The fresh springs, brine pits, barren place, and
fertile ;

Curs'd be I that did so!-All the charms
Of Sycorax, toads, beetles, bats, light on you!
For I am all the subjects that you have,

Which first was mine own king: and here you sty

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Come unto to these yellow sands,
And then take hands:
Curt'sied when you have, and kiss'd,
(The wild waves whist,)
Foot it featly here and there;
And, sweet sprites, the burden bear.
Hark, Hark!
Bur. Bowgh, wowgh.
The watch-dogs bark:
Bur. Bowgh, wowgh.

[Dispersedly.

[Dispersedly.

Hark, Hark! I hear
The strain of strutting chanticlere
Cry, Cock-a-doodle-doo.

Fer. Where should this musick be? i' the air, or the earth?

It sounds no more:-and sure, it waits upon
Some god of the island. Sitting on a bank,
Weeping again the king my father's wreck,
This musick crept by me upon the waters;
Allaying both their fury, and my passion,
With its sweet air: thence I have follow'd it,
Or it hath drawn me rather: But 'tis gone.
No, it begins again.

• ARIEL sings.

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

Fer. The ditty does remember my drown'd fa ther: :

This is no mortal business, nor no sound
That the earth owes :-I hear it now above me.
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

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As my soul prompts it:-Spirit, fine spirit! I'll I'll manacle thy neck and feet together:

free thee

Within two days for this.

Fer. Most sure, the goddess

On whom these airs attend!-Vouchsafe, my prayer

May know, if you remain upon this island; And that you will some good instruction give, How I may bear me here: My prime request, Which I do last pronounce, is, O you wonder! If you be made, or no?

Mira. No wonder, sir; But certainly a maid.

Fer. My language! heavens !—

I am the best of them that speak this speech, Were I but where 'tis spoken.

Pro. How! the best?

What wert thou, if the 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!

Sea-water shalt thou drink, thy food shall be The fresh-brook muscles, wither'd roots, and husks

Wherein the acorn cradled: Follow.
Fer. No;

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

Mira. O, dear father,

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

Pro. What, I say,

[He draws.

My foot my tutor!-Put thy sword up, traitor; Who mak'st a shew, 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.

Mira. Beseech you, father!

Pro. Hence! hang not on my garments.
Mira. Sir, have pity;

I'll be his surety.

Pro. Silence: one word more

Shall make me chide thee, if not hate thee. What!

Fer. Yes, faith, and all his lords; the duke An advocate for an impostor? hush!

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Fer. O, if a virgin,

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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, or this man's threats

And your affection not gone forth, I'll make you To whom I am subdued, are but light to me,

The queen of Naples.

Pro. Soft, sir; one word more.

They are both in either's powers: but this swift business

I must uneasy make, lest too light winning

[Aside.

Make the prize light.-One word more, I charge thee,

That thou attend me: thou dost here usurp
The name thou ow'st not; and hast put thyself
Upon this island, as a spy, to win it

From me, the lord on't.

Fer. No, as I am a man.

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.

Pro. It works:-Come on.Thou hast done well, fine Ariel!-Follow me.[To Ferd. and Mir. Hark, what thou else shalt do me. [To Ariel. Mira. Be of comfort;

My father's of a better nature, sir,
Than he appears by speech; this is unwonted,
Which now came from him.

Pro. Thou shalt be as free

Mira. There's nothing ill can dwell in such As mountain winds: but then exactly do

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All points of my command.

Ari. To the syllable.

Pro. Come, follow: speak not for him.

To Ferd.

Speak not you for him; he's a traitor.-Come.

[Exeunt.

1

ACT II.

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Seb. He will be talking.

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.

Gon. How lush and lusty the grass looks? how green?

Ant. The ground, indeed, is tawny.

Seb. With an eye of green in't.

Ant. He misses not much.

Seb. No; he doth but mistake the truth totally.

Gon. But the rarity of it is, (which is indeed almost beyond credit)

Seb. As many vouch'd rarities are.

Gon. That our garments, being, as they were, drenched in the sea, hold, notwithstanding, their freshness, and glosses; being rather new dy'd, than stain'd with salt water.

Ant. If but one of his pockets could speak, would it not say, he lies?

Seb. Ay, or very falsely pocket up his report. Gon. Methinks, our garments are now as fresh as when we put them on first in Africk, 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

Ant. Which of them, he, or Adrian, for a good study of that: She was of Carthage, not of Tunis.

wager, first begins to crow?

Seb. The old cock.

Ant. The cockrel.

Seb. Done: The wager?

Ant. A laughter.

Seb. A match.

Seb. Ha, ha, ha!

Ant. So, you've paid.

Seb. Yet

Adr. Yet

Adr. Though this island seem to be desert,

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

Adr. Uninhabitable, and almost inaccessible,-- his pocket, and give it his son for an apple.

Ant. He could not miss it.

Adr. It must needs be of subtle, tender, and delicate temperance.

Ant. Temperance was a delicate wench. Seb. Ay, and a subtle; as he most learnedly delivered.

Adr. The air breathes upon us here most sweetly.

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

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Ant. O, widow Dido; ay, widow Dido. Gon. Is not, sir, my doublet as fresh as the first day I wore it? I mean, in a sort. Ant. That sort was well fish'd for. Gon. When I wore it at your daughter's marriage?

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 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!

Fran. Sir, he may live;

I saw him beat the surges under him,
And ride upon their backs; he trod the water,
Whose enmity he flung aside, and breasted
The surge most swoln that met him: his bold
head

'Bove the contentious waves he kept, and oar'd
Himself with his good arms in lusty stroke
To the shore, that o'er his wave-worn basis bow'd,
As stooping to relieve him: I not doubt,
He came alive to land.

Alon. No, no, he's gone.

Seb. Sir, you may thank yourself for this great loss;

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 impórtun'd otherwise

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

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Execute all things: for no kind of traffick
Would I admit; no name of magistrate;
Letters should not be known; no use of service,
Of riches or of poverty; no contracts,
Successions; bound of land, tilth, vineyard, none;
No use of metal, corn, or wine, or oil;
No occupation; all men idle, all;
And women too; but innocent and pure:
No sovereignty :-

Seb. And yet he would be king on't. Ant. The latter end of his commonwealth forgets the beginning.

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 foizon, all abundance,
To feed my innocent people.

Seb. No marrying among 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!

Ant. Long live Gonzalo !

Gon. And, do you mark me, sir?

Alon. Pr'ythee, no more: thou dost talk nothing to me.

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

Ant. 'Twas you we laugh'd at.

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

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

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

Enter ARIEL invisible, playing solemn musick.

Seb. We would so, and then go a bat-fowling. Ant. Nay, good my lord, be not angry. Gon. No, I warrant you; I will not adventure my discretion so weakly. Will you laugh me asleep, for I am very heavy?

Ant. Go sleep, and hear us.

[All sleep but ALON. SEB. and Ant. Alon. What, all so soon asleep! I wish mine

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