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Gon. When every grief is entertain'd, that's now as fresh, as when we were at Tunis at the Comes to the entertainermarriage of your daughter, who is now queen..

Seb. A dollar.

[offer'd,

Gon. Dolour comes to him, indeed; you have spoken truer than you purposed.

Seb. You have taken it wiselier than I meant you should.

Gon. Therefore, my lord,

Ant. Fie, what a spendthrift is he of his tongue!
Alon. I pr'ythee spare.

Gon. Well, I have done: But yet

Seb. He will be talking.

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

The stomach of my sense: 'would I had never

Ant. Which of them, he, or Adrian, for a good Married my daughter there! for, coming thence,

wager, first begins to crow?

Seb. The old cock.

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Seb. Ha, ha, ha!

Ant. So, you've pay'd.

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!

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I saw him beat the surges under him,

And ride upon their backs; he trod the water,
Whose enmity he flung aside, and breasted

Adr. Uninhabitable, and almost inaccessible, The surge most swoln that met him: his bold head Seb. Yet,

Adr. Yet

Ant. He could not miss it.

'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,

Adr. It must needs be of subtle, tender, and de- As stooping to relieve him: I doubt not, licate temperance.

Ant. Temperance was a delicate wench.

Seb. Aye, 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. 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.

He came alive to land.

Alon.

loss

No, no, he's gone.
Seb. Sir, you may thank yourself for this great
[ter,
That would not bless our Europe with your daugh-
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 importun'd other-
[wise
Weigh'd, between lothness and obedience, at
Which end o'the beam she bow'd. We have lost
your son,

Gon. How lush and lusty the grass looks? how By all of us; and the fair soul herself 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 grac'd 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 study
of that: She was of Carthage, not of Tunis.
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 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.

Aut. Why, in good time.

Gon. Sir, we were talking, that our garments seem

I fear, for ever: Milan and Naples have
More widows in them of this business' making,
Than we bring men to comfort them: the fault's

Your own.

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Seb.

Ant.

Foul weather?

Very foul.
Gon. Had I plantation of this isle, my lord,-
Ant. He'd sow it with nettle-seed.
Seb.
Or docks, or mallows.
Gon. And were the king of it, What would I do?
Seb. 'Scape being drunk, for want of wine.
Gon. I'the commonwealth I would by contraries
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, successions,
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 :-

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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 eyes Would, with themselves, shut up my thoughts: I They are inclin'd to do so. [find, Please you, sir,

Seb.

Do not omit the heavy offer of it:
It seldom visits sorrow; when it doth,
It is a comforter.

Ant.

We two, my lord,

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The setting of thine eye, and cheek, proclaim A matter from thee; and a birth, indeed, Which throes thee much to yield.

Ant.

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Thus, sir:

Although this lord of weak remembrance, this (Who shall be of as little memory, When he is earth'd,) hath here almost persuaded (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. I have no hope That he's undrown'd. Ant.

O, out of that no hope, What great hope have you! no hope, that way, is Another way so high an hope, that even Ambition cannot pierce a wink beyond, But doubts discovery there. Will you grant, with

me,

That Ferdinand is drown'd?

Seb.

Ant.

He's gone.
Then, tell me,

Claribel.

Who's the next heir of Naples?
Seb.
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' th' moon's too slow,) till new-born chins
Be rough and razorable: she, from whom
We all were sea-swallow'd, though some cast again
And, by that, destin'd to perform an act,
Whereof what's past is prologue; what to come,
In yours and my discharge.
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.

Seb.

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
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; 1 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.
Ant.

And how does your content
Tender your own good fortune?
Seb.
I remember,
You did supplant your brother Prospero.

Ant.

True: 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, [whom I, No better than the earth he lies upon, If he were that which now he's like, that's dead; 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.

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 pay'st; And I the king shall love thee.

Ant.

Draw together:

And when I rear my hand, do you 'the like To fall it on Gonzalo.

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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!

Gon.

[They wake.
Alon. Why, how now, ho! awake! Why are you
Wherefore this ghastly looking?
[drawn?
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 cry'd; 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
For my poor son.
[search
Gon.
Heavens keep him from these beasts!
For he is, sure, i' th' island.
Alon.

Lead away. [done: Ari. Prospero, my lord, shall know what I have [Aside. [Exeunt.

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

SCENE II. Another Part of the Island.
Enter Caliban, with a Burden of wood.
A noise of Thunder heard.

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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,
Fright me with urchin shows, pitch me i' th' mire,
Nor lead me, like a fire-brand, in the dark
Out of my way, unless he bid them; but
For every trifle are they set upon me:
Sometimes 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 I 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.

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 thunder-bolt. [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 bedfellows. I will here shroud, till the dregs of the storm be past.

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Enter Stephano, singing; a bottle in his hand.
Ste. I shall no more to sea, to sea,
Here shall I die a-shore-
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, Mcg, 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-e'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 'scap'd drowning, to be afeard 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 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.

Cal. Thou dost me yet but little hurt; thou wilt
Anon, I know it by thy trembling.
Now Prosper works upon thee.

*

Ste. Come on your ways; open your mouth; here is that which will give language to you, cat; open your mouth: this will shake your shaking, I can tell you, and that soundly: you cannot tell who's your friend; open your chaps again.

But he is drowned; and these are devils: O! de

Trin. I should know that voice; It should be,

fend me!

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.

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 botTrin. Here's neither bush nor shrub, to bear off tle will recover him, I will help his ague: Come; any weather at all, and another storm brewing; IAmen! I will pour some in thy other mouth. hear it sing i' th' 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 an-afeard,-thy good friend Trinculo, cient and fish-like smell; a kind of, not of the Ste. If thou beest Trinculo, come forth; I'll pull newest, Poor-John, A strange fish! Were I in thee by the lesser legs: if any be Trinculo's legs, England now, (as once I was,) and had but this these are they. Thou art very Trinculo, indeed: fish painted, not a holiday fool there but would How cam'st thou to be the siege of this moon-calf? give a piece of silver: there would this monster Can he vent Trinculos? make a man; any strange beast there makes

Trin. Stephano !-if thou beest Stephano, touch me, and speak to me; for I am Trinculo be not

Trin. I took him to be killed with a thunder.

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SCENE I. Before Prospero's Cell.

Enter Ferdinand, bearing a Log.

Fer. There be some sports are painful; and

their labour

Trin. but that the poor monster's in drink: An

abominable monster!

Cal. I'll shew thee the best springs; I'll pluck

thee berries;

I'll fish for thee, and get thee wood enough.

A plague upon the tyrant that I serve!

I'll bear him no more sticks, but follow thee,

Thou wond'rous man.

Trin. A most ridiculous monster; to make a

wonder of a poor drunkard.
[grow;
Cal. I pr'ythee, let me bring thee where crabs
And I with my long nails will dig thee pig-nuts;
Shew thee a jay's nest, and instruct thee how
To snare the nimble marmozet; I'll bring thee
To clust'ring filberds, and sometimes I'll get thee
Young sea-mells from the rock: Wilt thou go with
me?

Ste. I prythee now, lead the way, without any
more talking.-Trinculo, the king and all our
company else being drowned, we will inherit here.
-Here; bear my bottle. Fellow Trinculo, we'll
fill him by and by again.

Cal. Farewell master; farewell, farewell.
[Sings drunkenly,
Trin. A howling monster; a drunken monster.
Cal. No more dams I'll make for fish;

Nor fetch in firing

At requiring,

Nor scrape trenchering, nor wash dish;
Ban Ban, Ca-Caliban,

Has a new master-Get a new man.

Pro.
Poor worm! thou art infected;

This visitation shews it.

Mira.
You look wearily. [me,

Fer. No, noble mistress; 'tis fresh morning with

When you are by at night. I do beseech you,

(Chiefly, that I might set it in my prayers,)

What is your name?

Mira.
Miranda :-O my father,

I have broke your hest to say so!

Fer.
Admir'd Miranda

Indeed, the top of admiration; worth

What's dearest to the world! Full many a lady

I have ey'd with best regard; and many a time.
The harmony of their tongues hath into bondage
Brought my too diligent ear: for several virtues
Have I lik'd several women; never any
With so full soul, but some defect in her
Did quarrel with the noblest grace she ow'd,
And put it to the foil: But you, O you,
So perfect, and so peerless, are created
Of every creature's best.
Mira.
I do not know
One of my sex; no woman's face remember,
Save, from my glass, mine own; nor have I seen
More that I may call men, than you, good friend,
And my dear father: how features are abroad,,
I am skill-less of; but, by my modesty,
(The jewel in my dower,) I would not wish
Any companion in the world but you;
Nor can imagination form a shape,
Besides yourself, to like of: But I prattle
Something too wildly, and my father's precepts
I therein do forget.

Fers*** I am in my condition,

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Fair encounter Of two most rare affections! Heavens rain grace On that which breeds between them! Fer.

[ning!

Wherefore weep you? Mira. At mine unworthiness, that dare not offer What I desire to give; and much less take, What I shall die to want: But this is trifling; And all the more it seeks to hide itself, The bigger bulk it shows. Hence, bashful cunAnd prompt me, plain and holy innocence! I am your wife, if you will marry me ; If not, I'll die your maid: to be your fellow You may deny me; but I'll be your servant, Whether you will or no.

Fer.

And I thus humble ever. Mira.

My mistress, dearest,

My husband then?

Fer. Ay, with a heart as willing As bondage e'er of freedom: here's my hand. Mira. And mine with my heart in't: And now Till half an hour hence. [farewell, Fer. A thousand! thousand! [Exeunt Fer. and Mira. Pro. So glad of this as they, I cannot be, Who are surpris'd with all; but my rejoicing At nothing can be more. I'll to my book; For yet, ere supper time, must I perform Much business appertaining.

[Exit.

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Ste. Tell not me;-when the butt is out, we will drink water; not a drop before: therefore bear up, and board 'em: Servant-monster, drink to me.

Trin. Servant-monster? the folly of this island! They say, there's but five upon this isle: we are three of them; if the other two be brained like us, the state totters.

Ste. Drink, servant-monster, when I bid thee; thy eyes are almost set in thy head.

Trin. Where should they be set else? he were a brave monster indeed, if they were set in his tail. Ste. My man-monster hath drowned his tongue in sack for my part, the sea cannot drown me: I swam, ere I could recover the shore, five-and-thirty leagues, off and on, by this light. Thou shalt be my lieutenant, monster, or my standard.

Trin. Your lieutenant, if you list; he's no standard.

Ste. We'll not run, monsieur monster. Trin. Nor go neither: but you'll lie like dogs; and yet say nothing neither.

Ste. Moon-calf, speak once in thy life, if thou beest a good moon-calf.

Cal. How does thy honour? Let me lick thy shoe; I'll not serve him, he is not valiant.

Trin. Thou liest, most ignorant monster; I am in case to justle a constable: Why, thou deboshed fish thou, was there ever man a coward, that hath drunk so much sack as I to-day? Wilt thou tell a monstrous lie, being but half a fish, and half a monster?

Cal. Lo, how he mocks me! wilt thou let him, my lord ?

Trin. Lord, quoth he that a monster should be such a natural!

Cal. Lo, lo, again! bite him to death, I pr'ythee. Ste. Trinculo, keep a good tongue in your head; if you prove a mutineer, the next tree- The poor monster's my subject, and he shall not suffer indignity.

Cal. I thank my noble lord. Wilt thou be pleas'd To hearken once again the suit I made thee? Ste. Marry will 1: kneel, and repeat it; I will stand, and so shall Trinculo.

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Cal. Thou Hest, thou jesting monkey, thou": would, my valiant master would destroy thee; I do not lie.

Ste. Trinculo, if you trouble him any more in his tale, by this hand, I will supplant some of your teeth.

Trin. Why, I said nothing.

Ste. Mum then, and no more. [To Caliban.] Proceed.

Cal. I say by sorcery he got this isle ; From me he got it. If thy greatness will Revenge it on him-for, I know, thou dar'st; But this thing dare not.

Ste. That's most certain.

Cal. Thou shalt be lord of it, and I'll serve thee. Ste. How now shall this be compassed? Canst thou bring me to the party?

Cal. Yea, yea, my lord: I'll yield him thee asleep. Where thou may'st knock a nail into his head. Ari. Thou liest, thou canst not.

Cal. What a pied ninny's this? Thou scurvy patch!

I do beseech thy greatness, give him blows,
And take his bottle from him: when that's gone,
He shall drink nought but brine; for I'll not show
Where the quick freshes are.
[him

Ste. Trinculo, run into no further danger: interrupt the monster one word further, and, by this hand, I'll turn my mercy out of doors, and make a

stock-fish of thee.

Trin. Why, what did I? I did nothing; I'll go further off.

Ste. Didst thou not say, he lied ?
Ari. Thou liest.

Ste. Do I so? take thou that. [Strikes him.] As you like this, give me the lie another time,

Trin. I did not give the lie:-Out o'your wits, and hearing too?A pox o'your bottle! this can sack, and drinking do. A murrain on your monster, and the devil take your fingers!

Cal. Ha, ha, ha!

Ste. Now, forward with your tale. stand further off.

Pr'ythee

Cal. Beat him enough: after a little time,
I'll beat him too.
Ste.
Stand further.-Come, proceed.
Cal. Why, as I told thee, 'tis a custom with him
I'the afternoon to sleep: there thou mayst brain
him,

Having first seiz'd his books; or with a log
Batter his skull, or paunch him with a stake,
Or cut his wezand with thy knife: Remember,
First to possess his books; for without them
He's but a sot, as I am, nor hath not
One spirit to command: They all do hate him,
As rootedly as I: Burn but his books;
He has brave utensils, (for so he calls them,)
Which, when he has a house, he'll deck withal.
And that most deeply to consider, is
The beauty of his daughter; he himself
Calls her a nonpareil: I ne'er saw woman,
But only Sycorax my dam, and she;

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