THE

TEMP

*** **

MPEST:

B

ACT I. SCENE I.

On a Ship at Sea.

A tempestuous noife of thunder and lightning beard: Enter a Ship-mafter, and a Boatswain.

MASTER.

OATSWAIN.

Boats. Here, mafter: what cheer?

Maft. Good: fpeak to th' mariners: fall to't, yarely, or we run our selves a-ground; beftir, beftir.

Enter Mariners.

Boats. Hey, my hearts; cheerly, my hearts; yare, yare; take in the top-fail; tend to th' master's whistle;-blow 'till thou burft thy wind, if room enough.

Enter Alonfo, Sebaftian, Anthonio, Ferdinand, Gonzalo, and others.

Alon. Good boatfwain, have care: where's the mafter? play

the men.

Boats. I pray now, keep below.

Ant. Where is the mafter, boatswain?

A 3

Boats.

Boats. Do you not hear him? you mar our labour; keep your cabins; you assist the storm.

Gonz. Nay, good, be patient.

Boats. When the fea is. Hence. What care these roarers for the name of king? to cabin; filence; trouble us not.

Gonz. Good: yet remember whom thou hast aboard.

Boats. None that I love more than my self. You are a counfellor; if you can command these elements to filence, and work the peace of the present, we will not hand a rope more; use your authority. If you cannot, give thanks you have liv'd fo long, and make your self ready in your cabin for the mischance of the hour, if it so hap. Cheerly, good hearts: out of our way, I say. [Exit.

Gonz. 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 hang'd, our cafe is miserable. [Exit.

Re-enter Boatswain.

Boats. Down with the top-maft: yare, lower, lower; bring her to try with main-course. A plague upon this howlingA cry within. within. Enter Sebastian, Anthonio and Gonzalo. they are louder than the weather, or our office. Yet again? what do you here? fhall we give o'er, and drown? have you a mind to fink?

Sebaf. A pox o' your throat, you bawling, blafphemous, uncharitable dog. Boats. Work

you then.

Ant. Hang, cur, hang, you whorefon infolent noise-maker; we are lefs afraid to be drown'd than thou art.

Gonz. I'll warrant him for drowning, though the ship were no ftronger than a nut-fhell, and as leaky as an unftanch'd wench. Boats. Lay her a-hold, a-hold; fet her two courses off to fea again; lay her off.

Enter Mariners wet.

Mar. All loft! to prayers, to prayers! all loft!

Boats.

Boats. What, must our mouths be cold?

Gonz. The king and prince at pray'rs ? let us assist 'em. For our cafe is as theirs.

Seb. I'm out of patience.

Ant. We're meerly cheated of our lives by drunkards.
This wide-chopt rascal-would, thou might'ft lye drowning
The washing of ten tides!

Gonz. He'll be hang'd yet,

Though every drop of water fwear against it,
And gape at wid'ft to glut him.

Seb. Mercy on us!

[A confufed noife within.
We fplit, we split! farewell my wife and children,
Brother farewel: we fplit, we split, we split!
Ant. Let's all fink with the king.

Seb. Let's take leave of him.

SCENE II.

The Inchanted Island.

Enter Profpero and Miranda.

have

I

Mira. F by your art, my dearest father, you
Put the wild waters in this roar, allay them:
The sky, it seems, would pour down ftinking pitch,
But that the fea, mounting to th' welkin's cheek,
Dashes the fire out. Q! I have fuffer'd

[Exit.

Gonz. Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea for an acre of barren ground: ling, heath, broom, furze, any thing; — the wills above be done, but I would fain die a dry death.~ [Exit.

With those that I faw fuffer: a brave veffel
(Who had, no doubt, some noble creatures in her)
Dafh'd all to pieces. O! the cry did knock
Against my very heart: poor fouls, they perish'd:
Had I been any god of pow'r, I would

Have

Have funk the fea within the earth or ere

It should the good ship so have swallow'd, and

The fraighted fouls within her.

Pro. Be collected;

No more amazement; tell your piteous heart,
There's no harm done.

Mira. O wo the day!

Pro. 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'm more, or better
Than Profpero, mafter of a full poor cell,
And thy no greater father.

Mira. More to know

Did never meddle with my thoughts.
Pro. 'Tis time

I should inform thee farther. Lend thy hand,
And pluck my magick garment from me: so!

[Lays down his mantle.
Lye 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 fuch provifion in mine art

So fafely order'd, that there's no foul loft;

No not so much perdition as an hair

Betid to any creature in the vessel

Which thou heard'ft cry, which thou faw'ft fink: fit down,

For thou must now know farther.

Mira. You have often

Begun to tell me what I am, but stopt,
And left me to the bootlefs inquifition;
Concluding, Stay, not yet.

Pro. The hour's now come,

The very minute bids thee ope thine ear;
Obey, and be attentive. Canft remember

A time before we came unto this cell?

I do not think thou canft, for then thou waft not
Out three years old.

Mira. Certainly, fir, I can.

Pro. By what? by any other house, or person?
Of any thing the image tell me, that
Hath kept in thy remembrance?

Mira 'Tis far off;

And rather like a dream, than an affurance my

That remembrance warrants. Had I not

Four or five women once that tended me?

Pro. Thou hadft, and more, Miranda: but how is it

That this lives in thy mind? what feeft thou elfe

In the dark back-ward and abyfme of time?

If thou remember'ft ought ere thou cam'st here,
How thou cam'ft here thou may':

y'ft.

Mira. But that I do not.

Pro. 'Tis twelve years fince, Miranda; twelve years fince Thy father was the duke of Milan, and

A prince of pow'r.

Mira. Sir, are not you my father?

Pro. Thy mother was a piece of virtue, and

She said thou waft my daughter; and thy father
Was duke of Milan, thou his only heir

A princess, no worse iffu'd.

Mira. O the heav'ns!

What foul play had we that we came from thence?
Or bleffed was't we did?

Pro. Both, both, my girl:

By foul play (as thou fay'ft) were we heav'd thence,
But bleffedly help'd hither.

Mira. My heart bleeds

To think o'th' teene that I have turn'd you to,

Which is from my remembrance. Please you, farther. Pro. My brother and thy uncle, call'd Anthonio· thee mark me, (that a brother should

pray

VOL. I.

B

I