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But certainly a maid.
No wonder, sir;
My language! heavens!
And his brave son being twain.
I fear you have done yourself some wrong: a
O, if a virgin,
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 Make the prize light. [To Fer.] One word more; I charge thee
That thou attend me: thou dost here usurp
No. as I am a man.
[Draws, and is charmed from moving. Mir. O dear father, Make not too rash a trial of him, for He's gentle and not fearful. What! I say,
My foot my tutor? Put thy sword up, traitor;
To whom I am subdued, are but light to me.
Pros. [Aside] It works. [To Fer.] Come on. Thou hast done well, fine Ariel! [To Fer.] Follow me.
[To Ari.] Hark what thou else shalt do me.
To the syllable. 500 Pros. Come, follow. Speak not for him. [Exeunt.
SCENE I. Another part of the island.
Enter ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, GON-
Seb. One: tell.
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
Gon. When every grief is entertain'd that's study of that: she was of Carthage, not of Tunis.
Gon. This Tunis, sir, was Carthage.
Gon. I assure you, Carthage.
Seb. His word is more than the miraculous harp; 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
Ant. Fie, what a spendthrift is he of his his pocket, and give it to his son for an apple. 91 tongue!
Alon. I prithee, spare.
Gon. Well, I have done; but yet,
Seb. He will be talking.
Ant. Which, of he or Adrian, for a good wager, first begins to crow?
The old cock.
Ant. The cockerel,
Seb. Done. The wager?
Ant. A laughter.
Seb. A match!
Aut. 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.
Seb. As if it had lungs and rotten ones.
Ant. The ground indeed is tawny.
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 vouched rarities are.
Gon. That our garments, being, as they were, drenched in the sea, hold notwithstanding their freshness and glosses, being rather newdved than stained with salt water. Ant. If but one of his pockets would speak, would it not say he lies?
Ant. And, sowing the kernels of it in the sea, bring forth more islands.
Ant. Why, in good time.
Gon. 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. 100 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 fished 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
I ne'er again shall see her. O thou mine heir
Sir, he may live:
I saw him beat the surges under him,
'Bove the contentious waves he kept, and oar'd
That would not bless our Europe with your daughter,
But rather lose her to an African;
By all of us, and the fair soul herself
I fear, forever; Milan and Naples have
So is the dear'st o' the loss.
Ant. And most chirurgeonly.
When you are cloudy.
Execute all things; for no kind of traffic
And women too, but innocent and pure;
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 endeavor; treason, felony, 160
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. God save his majesty! Ant. Long live Gonzalo! Gon. And, do you mark me, sir? Alon. Prithee, no more: thou dost talk nothing to me. 171 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 laughed 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.
Go sleep, and hear us. [All sleep except Alon., Seb., and Ant. Alon. What? all so soon asleep? I wish mine eyes
Would, with themselves, shut up my thoughts:
We two, my lord,
Will guard your person while you take your rest,
Thank you. Wondrous heavy. [Alonso sleeps. Exit Ariel Seb. What a strange drowsiness possesses them!
Ant. It is the quality o' the climate. Seb. Why 200 Doth it not then our eyelids sink? I find not Myself disposed to sleep.
Ant. Nor I; my spirits are nimble.
Worthy Sebastian? O,what might?-No more:-
What! art thou waking? Ant. Do you not hear me speak? Seb. I do; and surely
It is a sleepy language, and thou speak'st
Seb. Thou dost snore distinctly; There's meaning in thy snores.
Ant. I am more serious than my custom; you Must be so too, if heed me; which to do 220 Trebles thee o'er.
Hereditary sloth instructs me.
If you but knew how you the purpose cherish
Can have no note, unless the sun were postThe man i'the moon's too slow--till newborn chins Be rough and razorable; she that-from whom We all were sea-swallow'd, though some cast again,
And by that destiny to perform an act
Seb. What stuff is this! how say you? 'Tis true, my brother's daughter'sQueen of Tunis; So is she heir of Naples: 'twixt which regions There is some space. Ant. Α space whose cubit every Seems to cry out, How shall that Claribel Measure us back to Naples ? Keep in Tunis, And let Sebastian wake. Say, this were death That now hath seized them; why, they were no 261
Than now they are. There be that can rule Naples
As this Gonzalo; I myself could make
Seb. Methinks I do.
And how does Tender your own good fortune?
You did supplant your brother Prospero. Ant.
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'twere a kibe,
"Twould put me to my slipper: but I feel not
Gon. 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't not wake you? It struck mine ear most terribly. 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.
Fright me with urchin-shows, pitch me i' the mire,
Lo, now, lo!
cannot make him give ground: and it shall be said so again while Stephano breathes at's nostrils. Cal. The spirit torments me: Oh!
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, prithee; 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. Cal. Thou dost me yet but little hurt; thou wilt anon, I know it by thy trembling: now Prosper works upon thee.
Trin. Here's neither bush nor shrub, to bear offany weather at all, and another storm brewing; I hear it singi' 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 Ste. Come on your ways; open your mouth; did before, I know not where to hide my head: here is that which will give language to you, cat; yond same cloud cannot choose but fall by pail- open your mouth; this will shake your shaking, fuls. What have we here? a man or a fish? dead I can tell you, and that soundly; you cannot tell or alive? A fish: he smells like a fish; a very who's your friend; open your chaps again. ancient and fish-like smell; a kind of not of the Trin. I should know that voice: it should be newest Poor-John. A strange fish! Were I in-but he is drowned; and these are devils: O 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. Legged 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 gaberdine: there is no other shelter hereabout: misery acquaints a man with strange bed-fellows. I will here shroud till the dregs of the storm be past.
Ste. Four legs and two voices: a most delicate monster! His forward voice now is to speak well of his friend; his backward voice is to utter foul speeches and to detract. If all the wine in my bottle will recover him, I will help his ague. Come. Amen! I will pour some in thy other mouth.
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 am Trinculobe not afeard--thy good friend Trinculo.
Ste. If thou beest Trinculo, come forth: I'll
Enter STEPHANO, singing: a bottle in his hand. pull thee by the lesser legs: if any be Trinculo's
This is a very scurvy tune to sing at a man's
The master, the swabber, the boatswain and I,
Loved Mall, Meg and Marian and Margery,
She loved not the savor of tar nor of pitch,
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: Oh! Ste. What's the matter? Have we devils here? Do you put tricks upon's with savages and men of Ind, ha? I have not 'scaped drowning to be afeard now of your four legs; for it hath been said, As proper a man as ever went on four legs
legs, these are they. Thou art very Trinculo indeed! How camest thou to be the siege of this moon-calf? can he vent Trinculos?
Trin. I took him to be killed with a thunderstroke. 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. Prithee, 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 camest thou hither? swear by this bottle how thou camest hither. I escaped upon a butt of sack which the sailors heaved o'erboard, 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.