The works of William Shakspeare, life, glossary &c. repr. from the early eds. and compared with recent commentators

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.
An advocate for an impostor? hush! [What!
Thou think'st there are no more such shapes
as he,
[wench!

Having seen but him and Caliban: Foolish
To the most of men this is a Caliban,
And they to him are angels.

Mira.

My affections

Are then most humble; I have no ambition

To see a goodlier man.

Pro. [To Fer.]

Come on; obey:

Thy nerves are in their infancy again, [are:
And have no vigour in them. Fer. So they
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,

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' th' earth
Let liberty make use of; space enough
Have I in such a prison.

on.

Pro. [Aside.] It works.-[To Fer.] Come [Follow me.Thou hast done well, fine Ariel!-[To Fer.] [To Ariel.] Hark, what thou else shalt do me. Be of comfort;

Mira.

Gon. Beseech you, sir, be merry: you have (So have we all) of joy; for our escape [cause 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, [miracle, Have just our theme of woe; but for the I mean our preservation, few in millions Can speak like us: then wisely, good sir, weigh Our sorrow with our comfort. Alon. Pr'ythee, peace. Seb. He receives comfort like cold porridge. Ant. The visitor will not give him o'er so. Seb. Look, he's winding up the watch of his wit; by and by it will strike.

Gon. Sir,

Seb. One-tell.

[offer'd,

Gon. When every grief is entertain'd, that's Comes to the entertainer

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 learn-
edly delivered.
[sweetly.
Adr. The air breathes upon us here most
Seb. As if it had lungs, and rotten ones.
Ant. Or as 'twere perfumed by a fen.
Gon. Here is everything advantageous to
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.

[life.

[totally.

Seb. No; he doth but mistake the truth 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 notwithstand

ing their freshness and glosses; being rather To the shore, that o'er his wave-worn basis new dyed, than stain'd with salt water.

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

[port. Seb. Ay, or very falsely pocket up his reGon. 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.

bow'd,

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

Alon. No, no, he's gone. [great loss,
Seb. Sir, you may thank yourself for this
That would not bless our Europe with your
But rather lose her to an African; [daughter,
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

Ant. Widow? a pox o' that! How came Weigh'd between loathness and obedience, at that widow in? Widow Dido!

Seb. What if he had said, widower Eneas 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. [harp. Ant. His word is more than the miraculous Seb. He hath raised the wall, and houses too. Ant. What impossible matter will he make easy next?

Seb. I think he will carry this island home in his pocket, and give it his son for an apple. Ant. And, sowing the kernels of it in the sea, bring forth more islands.

Gon. Ay?

Ant. Why, in good time.

Gon. [To Alon.] 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.

Ant. And the rarest that e'er came there. Seb. Bate, I beseech you, widow Dido. 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 [never The stomach of my sense. Would I had 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?

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
fault's

the loss.

Your own.
Alon. So is the dearest of the
Gon.
My lord Sebastian, [ness,
The truth you speak doth lack some gentle-
And time to speak it in; you rub the sore,
When you should bring the plaster.
Seb.

Ant.

Very well.

Ant. And most chirurgeonly. Gon. It is foul weather in us all, good sir, When you are cloudy. Seb. Foul weather? Very foul. Gon. Had I plantation of this isle, my lord,Ant. He'd sow't with nettle-seed. Seb. Or docks, or mailows. 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 con-
traries

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 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 foison, all abundance,
To feed my innocent people.

Seb. No marrying 'mong his subjects?
Aut. None, man; all idle; whores and
knaves.

Gon. I would with such perfection govern, To excel the golden age. [sir,

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.

Aut. 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 music. Seb. We would so, and then go a batfowling.

Ani. 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

Seb.

mine eyes

Would, with themselves, shut up my thoughts: They are inclin'd to do so. [I find Please you, sir, Do not omit the heavy offer of it : It seldom visits sorrow; when it doth, It is a comforter. Ant. We two, my lord, Will guard your person, while you take your And watch your safety. [rest, Thank you: wondrous heavy. [Alonso sleeps. Exit Ariel. Seb. What a strange drowsiness possesses them!

Alon.

Ant. It is the quality o' the climate. Seb. Why Doth it not, then, our eyelids sink? I find not Myself dispos'd to sleep.

Ant.

Nor I: my spirits are nimble. They fell together all, as by consent; They dropp'd as by a thunder-stroke. What might, [more

Worthy Sebastian?-O! what might ?-No
And yet, methinks, I see it in thy face,
What thou should'st be. Th' occasion speaks
thee; and

My strong imagination sees a crown
Dropping upon thy head.
Seb.

Seb.

What, art thou waking? Ant. Do you not hear me speak? 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, And yet so fast asleep.

Do so to ebb, Ant. O,

Hereditary sloth instructs me.
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, [on :
By their own fear, or sloth. Seb. Prythee, say
The setting of thine eye, and cheek, proclaim
A matter from thee; and a birth, indeed,
Which throes thee much to yield.

Ant.
Thus, sir:
Although this lord of weak remembrance, this
Who shall be of as little memory,
When he is earth'd, hath here almost per-
suaded

(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,
As he that sleeps here, swims.
Seb.
That he 's undrown'd.

Ant.

I have no hope

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
That Ferdinand is drown'd? [with me,
He's gone.
Then, tell me,

Seb. Ant.

Who's the next heir of Naples? Seb. Claribel. Ant. She that is queen of Tunis; she that dwells [from Naples Ten leagues beyond man's life; she that 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 were all sea-swallow'd, though some cast
And by that destiny to perform an act, [again;
Whereof what's past is prologue; what to
In yours and my discharge.
[come,

Seb. 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.

Ant. 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 [no worse [moving, That now hath seiz'd them; why, they were

And look how well my garments sit upon me; And that a strange one too, which did awake Much feater than before; my brother's serv- I shak'd you, sir, and cry'd; as mine eyes open'd,

ants

Were then my fellows; now they are my men.
Seb. But, for your conscience,- [kibe,
Ant. Ay, sir; where lies that? if it were a
"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,
[brother,
And melt, ere they molest! Here lies your
No better than the earth he lies upon,
If he were that which now he's like, that's
dead;
[of it,
Whom I, with this obedient steel, three inches
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.
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
And I the king shall love thee. [pay'st,
Ant.
Draw together,
And when I rear my hand, do you the like,
To fall it on Gonzalo.

So, king, go safely on to seek thy son. [Exit.
SCENE II. Another Part of the Island.
Enter Caliban, with a burden of wood.
A noise of Thunder heard.

Cal. 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,
[mire,
Fright me with urchin shows, pitch me i the
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.-
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.

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 bumbard 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 Cal. Thou dost me yet but little hurt; thou ancient and fish-like smell; a kind of not of wilt anon, I know it by thy trembling: now the newest Poor-John. A strange fish! Prosper works upon thee.

Were I in England now, (as once I was,) and Ste. Come on your ways: open your had but this fish painted, not a holiday fool mouth; here is that which will give language there but would give a piece of silver: there to you, cat; open your mouth: this wil would this monster make a man; any strange shake your shaking, I can tell you, and that beast there makes a man: when they will not soundly: you cannot tell who's your friend; give a doit to relieve a lame beggar, they will open your chaps again. 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, Ste. Four legs, and two voices; a most that hath lately suffered by a thunderbolt.delicate monster ! His forward voice, now, is Thunder.] Alas! the storm is come again: to speak well of his friend; his backward voice my best way is to creep under his gaberdine; is, to utter foul speeches, and to detract. If all there is no other shelter hereabout: misery the wine in my bottle will recover him, I will acquaints a man with strange bedfellows. I help his ague. Come. Amen! I will pour will here shroud, till the dregs of the storm be some in thy other mouth. past. Enter Stephano, singing; a bottle in his hand. Ste. I shall no more to sea, to sea,

Trin. I should know that voice: it should be-but he is drowned, and these are devils. O! defend me!

Here shall I die ashore :This is a very scurvy tune to sing at a man's funeral: well, here's my comfort.

[Drinks. The master, the swabber, the boatswain, and I, The gunner, and his mate,

Lov'd Mall, Meg, and Marian, and Margery,
But none of us car'd for Kate;

For she had a tongue with a tang,
Would cry to a sailor, Go hang!
She lov'd 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.

Cal. Do not torment me: O! Ste. What's the matter? Have we devils here? Do you put tricks upon us with savages, and men of Inde? Ha! I have not 'scaped drowning, to be afeared 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's nostrils.

Cal. The spirit torments me: O! Ste. 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.

Cal. Do not torment me, pr'ythee: I'll bring my wood home faster.

Ste. 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.

Trin. Stephano!

Ste. Doth thy other mouth call me? Mercy! mercy! This is a devil, and no monster: I will leave him; I have no long spoon.

Trin. Stephano !-if thou beest Stephano, touch me, and speak to me; for I ani Trinculo-be not afeard, -thy good friend Trinculo.

Ste. 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 cam'st thou to be the siege of this moon-calf? Can he vent Trinculos?

Trin. 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!

Ste. Pr'ythee, do not turn me about: my stomach is not constant.

Cal. [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.

Ste. How didst thou 'scape? How cam'st thou hither? swear by this bottle, how thou cam'st hither. I escaped upon a butt of sack, which the sailors heaved overboard, by this bottle! which I made of the bark of a tree, with mine own hands, since I was cast ashore.

Cal. I'll swear, upon that bottle, to be thy true subject; for the liquor is not earthly.

Ste. Here: swear, then, how thou escapedst. Trin. Swam ashore, man, like a duck: I can swim like a duck, I'll be sworn.

Ste. Here, kiss the book. Though thou canst swim like a duck, thou art made like a goose.

Trin. O Stephano! hast any more of this? Ste. The whole butt, man: my cellar is in la rock by the sea-side, where my wine is

« Anterior Continua »

Llibres

The works of William Shakspeare, life, glossary &c. repr. from the ..., Part 73