ANT.

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 doubts discovery there. Will you grant, with me,
That Ferdinand is drown'd?

ANT. 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, from whom coming
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 your's and my discharge.

SEB.

What stuff is this?-How say you?

'Tis true, my brother's daughter's queen of Tunis; So is she heir of Naplos; 'twixt which regions

There is some space.

ANT.

A space whose every cubit

Seems to cry out, Haw shall that Claribel
Measure us back to Naples ?-Keep in Tunis,
And let Sebastian wake!-Say, this were death
That now hath seiz'd 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?

SEB. Methinks, I do.

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.

SEB. But, for your conscience

ANT. Ay, sir; where lies that? if it were a kybe,
"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.

Seb.

Shall be my precedent;

Thy case, dear friend,

as thou got'st Milan,

I'll come by Naples. Draw thy sword: one stroke
Shall free thee from the tribute which thou pay'st;

And I the king shall love thee.

ARI. My master through his art foresees the danger

That you, his friend, are in; and sends me forth,
For else his projects die, to keep them living.

[Sings in GONZALO's ear.

While you here do snoring lie,
Open-ey'd conspiracy

His time doth take:

If of life you keep a care,
Shake off slumber, and beware:

Awake! Awake!

ANT. Then let us both be sudden.

GON. Now, good angels, preserve the king!

[They wake.

ALON. Why, how now, ho! awake! Why are you drawn? Wherefore this ghastly looking?

GON.

What's the matter?

SEB. Whiles we stood here securing your repose,
Even now, we heard a hollow burst of bellowing
Like bulls, or rather lions; did it not wake you?
It struck mine ear most terribly.

ALON. I heard nothing.

ANT. 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.

ALON.

Heard you this, Gonzalo ?
GON. Upon mine honour, sir, I heard a humming,
And that a strange one too, which did awake me :
I shak'd you, sir, and cried; as mine eyes open'd,
I saw their weapons drawn.-There was a noise,
That's verity: 'Tis best we stand upon our guard;
Or that we quit this place: let's draw our weapons.

ALON. Lead off this ground; and let's make further search For my poor son.

GON.

Heavens keep him from these beasts!

For he is, sure, i' the island.

ALON.

Lead away.

ARI. Prospero my lord shall know what I have done :

So, king, go safely on to seek thy son.

[Aside.

[Exeunt

CALIBAN.

LL 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 fire-brand, in the dark
Out of my way, unless he bid 'em; but
For every trifle are they set upon me:

Sometime like apes, that moe and chatter at me,
And after, bite me; then like hedge-hogs, which
Lie tumbling in my bare-foot way, and mount
Their pricks at my foot-fall; sometime am I
All wound with adders, who, with cloven tongues,
Do hiss me into madness:-Lo! now! lo!

Enter TRINCULO.

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.

TRIN. 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 lay out ten to see a dead Indian. Legg'd 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 gaber