The Tempest

1Boatswain!

2Here, master: what cheer?

3Good, speak to the mariners: fall to't, yarely,

4or we run ourselves aground: bestir, bestir.

5Heigh, my hearts! cheerly, cheerly, my hearts!

6yare, yare! Take in the topsail. Tend to the

7master's whistle. Blow, till thou burst thy wind,

8if room enough!

9Good boatswain, have care. Where's the master?

10Play the men.

11I pray now, keep below.

12Where is the master, boatswain?

13Do you not hear him? You mar our labour: keep your

14cabins: you do assist the storm.

15Nay, good, be patient.

16When the sea is. Hence! What cares these roarers

17for the name of king? To cabin: silence! trouble us not.

18Good, yet remember whom thou hast aboard.

19None that I more love than myself. You are a

20counsellor; if you can command these elements to

21silence, and work the peace of the present, we will

22not hand a rope more; use your authority: if you

23cannot, give thanks you have lived so long, and make

24yourself ready in your cabin for the mischance of

25the hour, if it so hap. Cheerly, good hearts! Out

26of our way, I say.

27I have great comfort from this fellow: methinks he

28hath no drowning mark upon him; his complexion is

29perfect gallows. Stand fast, good Fate, to his

30hanging: make the rope of his destiny our cable,

31for our own doth little advantage. If he be not

32born to be hanged, our case is miserable.

33Down with the topmast! yare! lower, lower! Bring

34her to try with main-course.

35A plague upon this howling! they are louder than

36the weather or our office.

37Yet again! what do you here? Shall we give o'er

38and drown? Have you a mind to sink?

39A pox o' your throat, you bawling, blasphemous,

40incharitable dog!

41Work you then.

42Hang, cur! hang, you whoreson, insolent noisemaker!

43We are less afraid to be drowned than thou art.

44I'll warrant him for drowning; though the ship were

45no stronger than a nutshell and as leaky as an

46unstanched wench.

47Lay her a-hold, a-hold! set her two courses off to

48sea again; lay her off.

49All lost! to prayers, to prayers! all lost!

50What, must our mouths be cold?

51The king and prince at prayers! let's assist them,

52For our case is as theirs.

53I'm out of patience.

54We are merely cheated of our lives by drunkards:

55This wide-chapp'd rascal--would thou mightst lie drowning

56The washing of ten tides!

57He'll be hang'd yet,

58Though every drop of water swear against it

59And gape at widest to glut him.

60Let's all sink with the king.

61Let's take leave of him.

62Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea for an

63acre of barren ground, long heath, brown furze, any

64thing. The wills above be done! but I would fain

65die a dry death.

1If by your art, my dearest father, you have

2Put the wild waters in this roar, allay them.

3The sky, it seems, would pour down stinking pitch,

4But that the sea, mounting to the welkin's cheek,

5Dashes the fire out. O, I have suffered

6With those that I saw suffer: a brave vessel,

7Who had, no doubt, some noble creature in her,

8Dash'd all to pieces. O, the cry did knock

9Against my very heart. Poor souls, they perish'd.

10Had I been any god of power, I would

11Have sunk the sea within the earth or ere

12It should the good ship so have swallow'd and

13The fraughting souls within her.

14Be collected:

15No more amazement: tell your piteous heart

16There's no harm done.

17O, woe the day!

18No harm.

19I have done nothing but in care of thee,

20Of thee, my dear one, thee, my daughter, who

21Art ignorant of what thou art, nought knowing

22Of whence I am, nor that I am more better

23Than Prospero, master of a full poor cell,

24And thy no greater father.

25More to know

26Did never meddle with my thoughts.

27'Tis time

28I should inform thee farther. Lend thy hand,

29And pluck my magic garment from me. So:

30Lie there, my art. Wipe thou thine eyes; have comfort.

31The direful spectacle of the wreck, which touch'd

32The very virtue of compassion in thee,

33I have with such provision in mine art

34So safely ordered that there is no soul--

35No, not so much perdition as an hair

36Betid to any creature in the vessel

37Which thou heard'st cry, which thou saw'st sink. Sit down;

38For thou must now know farther.

39You have often

40Begun to tell me what I am, but stopp'd

41And left me to a bootless inquisition,

42Concluding 'Stay: not yet.'

43The hour's now come;

44The very minute bids thee ope thine ear;

45Obey and be attentive. Canst thou remember

46A time before we came unto this cell?

47I do not think thou canst, for then thou wast not

48Out three years old.

49Certainly, sir, I can.

50By what? by any other house or person?

51Of any thing the image tell me that

52Hath kept with thy remembrance.

53'Tis far off

54And rather like a dream than an assurance

55That my remembrance warrants. Had I not

56Four or five women once that tended me?

57Thou hadst, and more, Miranda. But how is it

58That this lives in thy mind? What seest thou else

59In the dark backward and abysm of time?

60If thou remember'st aught ere thou camest here,

61How thou camest here thou mayst.

62But that I do not.

63Twelve year since, Miranda, twelve year since,

64Thy father was the Duke of Milan and

65A prince of power.

66Sir, are not you my father?

67Thy mother was a piece of virtue, and

68She said thou wast my daughter; and thy father

69Was Duke of Milan; and thou his only heir

70And princess no worse issued.

71O the heavens!

72What foul play had we, that we came from thence?

73Or blessed was't we did?

74Both, both, my girl:

75By foul play, as thou say'st, were we heaved thence,

76But blessedly holp hither.

77O, my heart bleeds

78To think o' the teen that I have turn'd you to,

79Which is from my remembrance! Please you, farther.

80My brother and thy uncle, call'd Antonio--

81I pray thee, mark me--that a brother should

82Be so perfidious!--he whom next thyself

83Of all the world I loved and to him put

84The manage of my state; as at that time

85Through all the signories it was the first

86And Prospero the prime duke, being so reputed

87In dignity, and for the liberal arts

88Without a parallel; those being all my study,

89The government I cast upon my brother

90And to my state grew stranger, being transported

91And rapt in secret studies. Thy false uncle--

92Dost thou attend me?

93Sir, most heedfully.

94Being once perfected how to grant suits,

95How to deny them, who to advance and who

96To trash for over-topping, new created

97The creatures that were mine, I say, or changed 'em,

98Or else new form'd 'em; having both the key

99Of officer and office, set all hearts i' the state

100To what tune pleased his ear; that now he was

101The ivy which had hid my princely trunk,

102And suck'd my verdure out on't. Thou attend'st not.

103O, good sir, I do.

104I pray thee, mark me.

105I, thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicated

106To closeness and the bettering of my mind

107With that which, but by being so retired,

108O'er-prized all popular rate, in my false brother

109Awaked an evil nature; and my trust,

110Like a good parent, did beget of him

111A falsehood in its contrary as great

112As my trust was; which had indeed no limit,

113A confidence sans bound. He being thus lorded,

114Not only with what my revenue yielded,

115But what my power might else exact, like one

116Who having into truth, by telling of it,

117Made such a sinner of his memory,

118To credit his own lie, he did believe

119He was indeed the duke; out o' the substitution

120And executing the outward face of royalty,

121With all prerogative: hence his ambition growing--

122Dost thou hear?

123Your tale, sir, would cure deafness.

124To have no screen between this part he play'd

125And him he play'd it for, he needs will be

126Absolute Milan. Me, poor man, my library

127Was dukedom large enough: of temporal royalties

128He thinks me now incapable; confederates--

129So dry he was for sway--wi' the King of Naples

130To give him annual tribute, do him homage,

131Subject his coronet to his crown and bend

132The dukedom yet unbow'd--alas, poor Milan!--

133To most ignoble stooping.

134O the heavens!

135Mark his condition and the event; then tell me

136If this might be a brother.

137I should sin

138To think but nobly of my grandmother:

139Good wombs have borne bad sons.

140Now the condition.

141The King of Naples, being an enemy

142To me inveterate, hearkens my brother's suit;

143Which was, that he, in lieu o' the premises

144Of homage and I know not how much tribute,

145Should presently extirpate me and mine

146Out of the dukedom and confer fair Milan

147With all the honours on my brother: whereon,

148A treacherous army levied, one midnight

149Fated to the purpose did Antonio open

150The gates of Milan, and, i' the dead of darkness,

151The ministers for the purpose hurried thence

152Me and thy crying self.

153Alack, for pity!

154I, not remembering how I cried out then,

155Will cry it o'er again: it is a hint

156That wrings mine eyes to't.

157Hear a little further

158And then I'll bring thee to the present business

159Which now's upon's; without the which this story

160Were most impertinent.

161Wherefore did they not

162That hour destroy us?

163Well demanded, wench:

164My tale provokes that question. Dear, they durst not,

165So dear the love my people bore me, nor set

166A mark so bloody on the business, but

167With colours fairer painted their foul ends.

168In few, they hurried us aboard a bark,

169Bore us some leagues to sea; where they prepared

170A rotten carcass of a boat, not rigg'd,

171Nor tackle, sail, nor mast; the very rats

172Instinctively had quit it: there they hoist us,

173To cry to the sea that roar'd to us, to sigh

174To the winds whose pity, sighing back again,

175Did us but loving wrong.

176Alack, what trouble

177Was I then to you!

178O, a cherubim

179Thou wast that did preserve me. Thou didst smile.

180Infused with a fortitude from heaven,

181When I have deck'd the sea with drops full salt,

182Under my burthen groan'd; which raised in me

183An undergoing stomach, to bear up

184Against what should ensue.

185How came we ashore?

186By Providence divine.

187Some food we had and some fresh water that

188A noble Neapolitan, Gonzalo,

189Out of his charity, being then appointed

190Master of this design, did give us, with

191Rich garments, linens, stuffs and necessaries,

192Which since have steaded much; so, of his gentleness,

193Knowing I loved my books, he furnish'd me

194From mine own library with volumes that

195I prize above my dukedom.

196Would I might

197But ever see that man!

198Now I arise:

199Sit still, and hear the last of our sea-sorrow.

200Here in this island we arrived; and here

201Have I, thy schoolmaster, made thee more profit

202Than other princesses can that have more time

203For vainer hours and tutors not so careful.

204Heavens thank you for't! And now, I pray you, sir,

205For still 'tis beating in my mind, your reason

206For raising this sea-storm?

207Know thus far forth.

208By accident most strange, bountiful Fortune,

209Now my dear lady, hath mine enemies

210Brought to this shore; and by my prescience

211I find my zenith doth depend upon

212A most auspicious star, whose influence

213If now I court not but omit, my fortunes

214Will ever after droop. Here cease more questions:

215Thou art inclined to sleep; 'tis a good dulness,

216And give it way: I know thou canst not choose.

217Come away, servant, come. I am ready now.

218Approach, my Ariel, come.

219All hail, great master! grave sir, hail! I come

220To answer thy best pleasure; be't to fly,

221To swim, to dive into the fire, to ride

222On the curl'd clouds, to thy strong bidding task

223Ariel and all his quality.

224Hast thou, spirit,

225Perform'd to point the tempest that I bade thee?

226To every article.

227I boarded the king's ship; now on the beak,

228Now in the waist, the deck, in every cabin,

229I flamed amazement: sometime I'ld divide,

230And burn in many places; on the topmast,

231The yards and bowsprit, would I flame distinctly,

232Then meet and join. Jove's lightnings, the precursors

233O' the dreadful thunder-claps, more momentary

234And sight-outrunning were not; the fire and cracks

235Of sulphurous roaring the most mighty Neptune

236Seem to besiege and make his bold waves tremble,

237Yea, his dread trident shake.

238My brave spirit!

239Who was so firm, so constant, that this coil

240Would not infect his reason?

241Not a soul

242But felt a fever of the mad and play'd

243Some tricks of desperation. All but mariners

244Plunged in the foaming brine and quit the vessel,

245Then all afire with me: the king's son, Ferdinand,

246With hair up-staring,--then like reeds, not hair,--

247Was the first man that leap'd; cried, 'Hell is empty

248And all the devils are here.'

249Why that's my spirit!

250But was not this nigh shore?

251Close by, my master.

252But are they, Ariel, safe?

253Not a hair perish'd;

254On their sustaining garments not a blemish,

255But fresher than before: and, as thou badest me,

256In troops I have dispersed them 'bout the isle.

257The king's son have I landed by himself;

258Whom I left cooling of the air with sighs

259In an odd angle of the isle and sitting,

260His arms in this sad knot.

261Of the king's ship

262The mariners say how thou hast disposed

263And all the rest o' the fleet.

264Safely in harbour

265Is the king's ship; in the deep nook, where once

266Thou call'dst me up at midnight to fetch dew

267From the still-vex'd Bermoothes, there she's hid:

268The mariners all under hatches stow'd;

269Who, with a charm join'd to their suffer'd labour,

270I have left asleep; and for the rest o' the fleet

271Which I dispersed, they all have met again

272And are upon the Mediterranean flote,

273Bound sadly home for Naples,

274Supposing that they saw the king's ship wreck'd

275And his great person perish.

276Ariel, thy charge

277Exactly is perform'd: but there's more work.

278What is the time o' the day?

279Past the mid season.

280At least two glasses. The time 'twixt six and now

281Must by us both be spent most preciously.

282Is there more toil? Since thou dost give me pains,

283Let me remember thee what thou hast promised,

284Which is not yet perform'd me.

285How now? moody?

286What is't thou canst demand?

287My liberty.

288Before the time be out? no more!

289I prithee,

290Remember I have done thee worthy service;

291Told thee no lies, made thee no mistakings, served

292Without or grudge or grumblings: thou didst promise

293To bate me a full year.

294Dost thou forget

295From what a torment I did free thee?

296No.

297Thou dost, and think'st it much to tread the ooze

298Of the salt deep,

299To run upon the sharp wind of the north,

300To do me business in the veins o' the earth

301When it is baked with frost.

302I do not, sir.

303Thou liest, malignant thing! Hast thou forgot

304The foul witch Sycorax, who with age and envy

305Was grown into a hoop? hast thou forgot her?

306No, sir.

307Thou hast. Where was she born? speak; tell me.

308Sir, in Argier.

309O, was she so? I must

310Once in a month recount what thou hast been,

311Which thou forget'st. This damn'd witch Sycorax,

312For mischiefs manifold and sorceries terrible

313To enter human hearing, from Argier,

314Thou know'st, was banish'd: for one thing she did

315They would not take her life. Is not this true?

316Ay, sir.

317This blue-eyed hag was hither brought with child

318And here was left by the sailors. Thou, my slave,

319As thou report'st thyself, wast then her servant;

320And, for thou wast a spirit too delicate

321To act her earthy and abhorr'd commands,

322Refusing her grand hests, she did confine thee,

323By help of her more potent ministers

324And in her most unmitigable rage,

325Into a cloven pine; within which rift

326Imprison'd thou didst painfully remain

327A dozen years; within which space she died

328And left thee there; where thou didst vent thy groans

329As fast as mill-wheels strike. Then was this island--

330Save for the son that she did litter here,

331A freckled whelp hag-born--not honour'd with

332A human shape.

333Yes, Caliban her son.

334Dull thing, I say so; he, that Caliban

335Whom now I keep in service. Thou best know'st

336What torment I did find thee in; thy groans

337Did make wolves howl and penetrate the breasts

338Of ever angry bears: it was a torment

339To lay upon the damn'd, which Sycorax

340Could not again undo: it was mine art,

341When I arrived and heard thee, that made gape

342The pine and let thee out.

343I thank thee, master.

344If thou more murmur'st, I will rend an oak

345And peg thee in his knotty entrails till

346Thou hast howl'd away twelve winters.

347Pardon, master;

348I will be correspondent to command

349And do my spiriting gently.

350Do so, and after two days

351I will discharge thee.

352That's my noble master!

353What shall I do? say what; what shall I do?

354Go make thyself like a nymph o' the sea: be subject

355To no sight but thine and mine, invisible

356To every eyeball else. Go take this shape

357And hither come in't: go, hence with diligence!

358Awake, dear heart, awake! thou hast slept well; Awake!

359The strangeness of your story put

360Heaviness in me.

361Shake it off. Come on;

362We'll visit Caliban my slave, who never

363Yields us kind answer.

364'Tis a villain, sir,

365I do not love to look on.

366But, as 'tis,

367We cannot miss him: he does make our fire,

368Fetch in our wood and serves in offices

369That profit us. What, ho! slave! Caliban!

370Thou earth, thou! speak.

371[Within] There's wood enough within.

372Come forth, I say! there's other business for thee:

373Come, thou tortoise! when?

374Fine apparition! My quaint Ariel,

375Hark in thine ear.

376My lord it shall be done.

377Thou poisonous slave, got by the devil himself

378Upon thy wicked dam, come forth!

379As wicked dew as e'er my mother brush'd

380With raven's feather from unwholesome fen

381Drop on you both! a south-west blow on ye

382And blister you all o'er!

383For this, be sure, to-night thou shalt have cramps,

384Side-stitches that shall pen thy breath up; urchins

385Shall, for that vast of night that they may work,

386All exercise on thee; thou shalt be pinch'd

387As thick as honeycomb, each pinch more stinging

388Than bees that made 'em.

389I must eat my dinner.

390This island's mine, by Sycorax my mother,

391Which thou takest from me. When thou camest first,

392Thou strokedst me and madest much of me, wouldst give me

393Water with berries in't, and teach me how

394To name the bigger light, and how the less,

395That burn by day and night: and then I loved thee

396And show'd thee all the qualities o' the isle,

397The fresh springs, brine-pits, barren place and fertile:

398Cursed be I that did so! All the charms

399Of Sycorax, toads, beetles, bats, light on you!

400For I am all the subjects that you have,

401Which first was mine own king: and here you sty me

402In this hard rock, whiles you do keep from me

403The rest o' the island.

404Thou most lying slave,

405Whom stripes may move, not kindness! I have used thee,

406Filth as thou art, with human care, and lodged thee

407In mine own cell, till thou didst seek to violate

408The honour of my child.

409O ho, O ho! would't had been done!

410Thou didst prevent me; I had peopled else

411This isle with Calibans.

412Abhorred slave,

413Which any print of goodness wilt not take,

414Being capable of all ill! I pitied thee,

415Took pains to make thee speak, taught thee each hour

416One thing or other: when thou didst not, savage,

417Know thine own meaning, but wouldst gabble like

418A thing most brutish, I endow'd thy purposes

419With words that made them known. But thy vile race,

420Though thou didst learn, had that in't which

421good natures

422Could not abide to be with; therefore wast thou

423Deservedly confined into this rock,

424Who hadst deserved more than a prison.

425You taught me language; and my profit on't

426Is, I know how to curse. The red plague rid you

427For learning me your language!

428Hag-seed, hence!

429Fetch us in fuel; and be quick, thou'rt best,

430To answer other business. Shrug'st thou, malice?

431If thou neglect'st or dost unwillingly

432What I command, I'll rack thee with old cramps,

433Fill all thy bones with aches, make thee roar

434That beasts shall tremble at thy din.

435No, pray thee.

436I must obey: his art is of such power,

437It would control my dam's god, Setebos,

438and make a vassal of him.

439So, slave; hence!

440ARIEL'S song.

441Come unto these yellow sands,

442And then take hands:

443Courtsied when you have and kiss'd

444The wild waves whist,

445Foot it featly here and there;

446And, sweet sprites, the burthen bear.

447Hark, hark!

448The watch-dogs bark!

449Hark, hark! I hear

450The strain of strutting chanticleer

451Cry, Cock-a-diddle-dow.

452Where should this music be? i' the air or the earth?

453It sounds no more: and sure, it waits upon

454Some god o' the island. Sitting on a bank,

455Weeping again the king my father's wreck,

456This music crept by me upon the waters,

457Allaying both their fury and my passion

458With its sweet air: thence I have follow'd it,

459Or it hath drawn me rather. But 'tis gone.

460No, it begins again.

461Full fathom five thy father lies;

462Of his bones are coral made;

463Those are pearls that were his eyes:

464Nothing of him that doth fade

465But doth suffer a sea-change

466Into something rich and strange.

467Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell

468Hark! now I hear them,--Ding-dong, bell.

469The ditty does remember my drown'd father.

470This is no mortal business, nor no sound

471That the earth owes. I hear it now above me.

472The fringed curtains of thine eye advance

473And say what thou seest yond.

474What is't? a spirit?

475Lord, how it looks about! Believe me, sir,

476It carries a brave form. But 'tis a spirit.

477No, wench; it eats and sleeps and hath such senses

478As we have, such. This gallant which thou seest

479Was in the wreck; and, but he's something stain'd

480With grief that's beauty's canker, thou mightst call him

481A goodly person: he hath lost his fellows

482And strays about to find 'em.

483I might call him

484A thing divine, for nothing natural

485I ever saw so noble.

486[Aside] It goes on, I see,

487As my soul prompts it. Spirit, fine spirit! I'll free thee

488Within two days for this.

489Most sure, the goddess

490On whom these airs attend! Vouchsafe my prayer

491May know if you remain upon this island;

492And that you will some good instruction give

493How I may bear me here: my prime request,

494Which I do last pronounce, is, O you wonder!

495If you be maid or no?

496No wonder, sir;

497But certainly a maid.

498My language! heavens!

499I am the best of them that speak this speech,

500Were I but where 'tis spoken.

501How? the best?

502What wert thou, if the King of Naples heard thee?

503A single thing, as I am now, that wonders

504To hear thee speak of Naples. He does hear me;

505And that he does I weep: myself am Naples,

506Who with mine eyes, never since at ebb, beheld

507The king my father wreck'd.

508Alack, for mercy!

509Yes, faith, and all his lords; the Duke of Milan

510And his brave son being twain.

511[Aside] The Duke of Milan

512And his more braver daughter could control thee,

513If now 'twere fit to do't. At the first sight

514They have changed eyes. Delicate Ariel,

515I'll set thee free for this.

516A word, good sir;

517I fear you have done yourself some wrong: a word.

518Why speaks my father so ungently? This

519Is the third man that e'er I saw, the first

520That e'er I sigh'd for: pity move my father

521To be inclined my way!

522O, if a virgin,

523And your affection not gone forth, I'll make you

524The queen of Naples.

525Soft, sir! one word more.

526They are both in either's powers; but this swift business

527I must uneasy make, lest too light winning

528Make the prize light.

529One word more; I charge thee

530That thou attend me: thou dost here usurp

531The name thou owest not; and hast put thyself

532Upon this island as a spy, to win it

533From me, the lord on't.

534No, as I am a man.

535There's nothing ill can dwell in such a temple:

536If the ill spirit have so fair a house,

537Good things will strive to dwell with't.

538Follow me.

539Speak not you for him; he's a traitor. Come;

540I'll manacle thy neck and feet together:

541Sea-water shalt thou drink; thy food shall be

542The fresh-brook muscles, wither'd roots and husks

543Wherein the acorn cradled. Follow.

544No;

545I will resist such entertainment till

546Mine enemy has more power.

547O dear father,

548Make not too rash a trial of him, for

549He's gentle and not fearful.

550What? I say,

551My foot my tutor? Put thy sword up, traitor;

552Who makest a show but darest not strike, thy conscience

553Is so possess'd with guilt: come from thy ward,

554For I can here disarm thee with this stick

555And make thy weapon drop.

556Beseech you, father.

557Hence! hang not on my garments.

558Sir, have pity;

559I'll be his surety.

560Silence! one word more

561Shall make me chide thee, if not hate thee. What!

562An advocate for an imposter! hush!

563Thou think'st there is no more such shapes as he,

564Having seen but him and Caliban: foolish wench!

565To the most of men this is a Caliban

566And they to him are angels.

567My affections

568Are then most humble; I have no ambition

569To see a goodlier man.

570Come on; obey:

571Thy nerves are in their infancy again

572And have no vigour in them.

573So they are;

574My spirits, as in a dream, are all bound up.

575My father's loss, the weakness which I feel,

576The wreck of all my friends, nor this man's threats,

577To whom I am subdued, are but light to me,

578Might I but through my prison once a day

579Behold this maid: all corners else o' the earth

580Let liberty make use of; space enough

581Have I in such a prison.

582[Aside] It works.

583Come on.

584Thou hast done well, fine Ariel!

585Follow me.

586Hark what thou else shalt do me.

587Be of comfort;

588My father's of a better nature, sir,

589Than he appears by speech: this is unwonted

590Which now came from him.

591Thou shalt be free

592As mountain winds: but then exactly do

593All points of my command.

594To the syllable.

595Come, follow. Speak not for him.

1Beseech you, sir, be merry; you have cause,

2So have we all, of joy; for our escape

3Is much beyond our loss. Our hint of woe

4Is common; every day some sailor's wife,

5The masters of some merchant and the merchant

6Have just our theme of woe; but for the miracle,

7I mean our preservation, few in millions

8Can speak like us: then wisely, good sir, weigh

9Our sorrow with our comfort.

10Prithee, peace.

11He receives comfort like cold porridge.

12The visitor will not give him o'er so.

13Look he's winding up the watch of his wit;

14by and by it will strike.

15Sir,--

16One: tell.

17When every grief is entertain'd that's offer'd,

18Comes to the entertainer--

19A dollar.

20Dolour comes to him, indeed: you

21have spoken truer than you purposed.

22You have taken it wiselier than I meant you should.

23Therefore, my lord,--

24Fie, what a spendthrift is he of his tongue!

25I prithee, spare.

26Well, I have done: but yet,--

27He will be talking.

28Which, of he or Adrian, for a good

29wager, first begins to crow?

30The old cock.

31The cockerel.

32Done. The wager?

33A laughter.

34A match!

35Though this island seem to be desert,--

36Ha, ha, ha! So, you're paid.

37Uninhabitable and almost inaccessible,--

38Yet,--

39Yet,--

40He could not miss't.

41It must needs be of subtle, tender and delicate

42temperance.

43Temperance was a delicate wench.

44Ay, and a subtle; as he most learnedly delivered.

45The air breathes upon us here most sweetly.

46As if it had lungs and rotten ones.

47Or as 'twere perfumed by a fen.

48Here is everything advantageous to life.

49True; save means to live.

50Of that there's none, or little.

51How lush and lusty the grass looks! how green!

52The ground indeed is tawny.

53With an eye of green in't.

54He misses not much.

55No; he doth but mistake the truth totally.

56But the rarity of it is,--which is indeed almost

57beyond credit,--

58As many vouched rarities are.

59That our garments, being, as they were, drenched in

60the sea, hold notwithstanding their freshness and

61glosses, being rather new-dyed than stained with

62salt water.

63If but one of his pockets could speak, would it not

64say he lies?

65Ay, or very falsely pocket up his report

66Methinks our garments are now as fresh as when we

67put them on first in Afric, at the marriage of

68the king's fair daughter Claribel to the King of Tunis.

69'Twas a sweet marriage, and we prosper well in our return.

70Tunis was never graced before with such a paragon to

71their queen.

72Not since widow Dido's time.

73Widow! a pox o' that! How came that widow in?

74widow Dido!

75What if he had said 'widower AEneas' too? Good Lord,

76how you take it!

77'Widow Dido' said you? you make me study of that:

78she was of Carthage, not of Tunis.

79This Tunis, sir, was Carthage.

80Carthage?

81I assure you, Carthage.

82His word is more than the miraculous harp; he hath

83raised the wall and houses too.

84What impossible matter will he make easy next?

85I think he will carry this island home in his pocket

86and give it his son for an apple.

87And, sowing the kernels of it in the sea, bring

88forth more islands.

89Ay.

90Why, in good time.

91Sir, we were talking that our garments seem now

92as fresh as when we were at Tunis at the marriage

93of your daughter, who is now queen.

94And the rarest that e'er came there.

95Bate, I beseech you, widow Dido.

96O, widow Dido! ay, widow Dido.

97Is not, sir, my doublet as fresh as the first day I

98wore it? I mean, in a sort.

99That sort was well fished for.

100When I wore it at your daughter's marriage?

101You cram these words into mine ears against

102The stomach of my sense. Would I had never

103Married my daughter there! for, coming thence,

104My son is lost and, in my rate, she too,

105Who is so far from Italy removed

106I ne'er again shall see her. O thou mine heir

107Of Naples and of Milan, what strange fish

108Hath made his meal on thee?

109Sir, he may live:

110I saw him beat the surges under him,

111And ride upon their backs; he trod the water,

112Whose enmity he flung aside, and breasted

113The surge most swoln that met him; his bold head

114'Bove the contentious waves he kept, and oar'd

115Himself with his good arms in lusty stroke

116To the shore, that o'er his wave-worn basis bow'd,

117As stooping to relieve him: I not doubt

118He came alive to land.

119No, no, he's gone.

120Sir, you may thank yourself for this great loss,

121That would not bless our Europe with your daughter,

122But rather lose her to an African;

123Where she at least is banish'd from your eye,

124Who hath cause to wet the grief on't.

125Prithee, peace.

126You were kneel'd to and importuned otherwise

127By all of us, and the fair soul herself

128Weigh'd between loathness and obedience, at

129Which end o' the beam should bow. We have lost your

130son,

131I fear, for ever: Milan and Naples have

132More widows in them of this business' making

133Than we bring men to comfort them:

134The fault's your own.

135So is the dear'st o' the loss.

136My lord Sebastian,

137The truth you speak doth lack some gentleness

138And time to speak it in: you rub the sore,

139When you should bring the plaster.

140Very well.

141And most chirurgeonly.

142It is foul weather in us all, good sir,

143When you are cloudy.

144Foul weather?

145Very foul.

146Had I plantation of this isle, my lord,--

147He'ld sow't with nettle-seed.

148Or docks, or mallows.

149And were the king on't, what would I do?

150'Scape being drunk for want of wine.

151I' the commonwealth I would by contraries

152Execute all things; for no kind of traffic

153Would I admit; no name of magistrate;

154Letters should not be known; riches, poverty,

155And use of service, none; contract, succession,

156Bourn, bound of land, tilth, vineyard, none;

157No use of metal, corn, or wine, or oil;

158No occupation; all men idle, all;

159And women too, but innocent and pure;

160No sovereignty;--

161Yet he would be king on't.

162The latter end of his commonwealth forgets the

163beginning.

164All things in common nature should produce

165Without sweat or endeavour: treason, felony,

166Sword, pike, knife, gun, or need of any engine,

167Would I not have; but nature should bring forth,

168Of its own kind, all foison, all abundance,

169To feed my innocent people.

170No marrying 'mong his subjects?

171None, man; all idle: whores and knaves.

172I would with such perfection govern, sir,

173To excel the golden age.

174God save his majesty!

175Long live Gonzalo!

176And,--do you mark me, sir?

177Prithee, no more: thou dost talk nothing to me.

178I do well believe your highness; and

179did it to minister occasion to these gentlemen,

180who are of such sensible and nimble lungs that

181they always use to laugh at nothing.

182'Twas you we laughed at.

183Who in this kind of merry fooling am nothing

184to you: so you may continue and laugh at

185nothing still.

186What a blow was there given!

187An it had not fallen flat-long.

188You are gentlemen of brave metal; you would lift

189the moon out of her sphere, if she would continue

190in it five weeks without changing.

191We would so, and then go a bat-fowling.

192Nay, good my lord, be not angry.

193No, I warrant you; I will not adventure

194my discretion so weakly. Will you laugh

195me asleep, for I am very heavy?

196Go sleep, and hear us.

197What, all so soon asleep! I wish mine eyes

198Would, with themselves, shut up my thoughts: I find

199They are inclined to do so.

200Please you, sir,

201Do not omit the heavy offer of it:

202It seldom visits sorrow; when it doth,

203It is a comforter.

204We two, my lord,

205Will guard your person while you take your rest,

206And watch your safety.

207Thank you. Wondrous heavy.

208What a strange drowsiness possesses them!

209It is the quality o' the climate.

210Why

211Doth it not then our eyelids sink? I find not

212Myself disposed to sleep.

213Nor I; my spirits are nimble.

214They fell together all, as by consent;

215They dropp'd, as by a thunder-stroke. What might,

216Worthy Sebastian? O, what might?--No more:--

217And yet me thinks I see it in thy face,

218What thou shouldst be: the occasion speaks thee, and

219My strong imagination sees a crown

220Dropping upon thy head.

221What, art thou waking?

222Do you not hear me speak?

223I do; and surely

224It is a sleepy language and thou speak'st

225Out of thy sleep. What is it thou didst say?

226This is a strange repose, to be asleep

227With eyes wide open; standing, speaking, moving,

228And yet so fast asleep.

229Noble Sebastian,

230Thou let'st thy fortune sleep--die, rather; wink'st

231Whiles thou art waking.

232Thou dost snore distinctly;

233There's meaning in thy snores.

234I am more serious than my custom: you

235Must be so too, if heed me; which to do

236Trebles thee o'er.

237Well, I am standing water.

238I'll teach you how to flow.

239Do so: to ebb

240Hereditary sloth instructs me.

241O,

242If you but knew how you the purpose cherish

243Whiles thus you mock it! how, in stripping it,

244You more invest it! Ebbing men, indeed,

245Most often do so near the bottom run

246By their own fear or sloth.

247Prithee, say on:

248The setting of thine eye and cheek proclaim

249A matter from thee, and a birth indeed

250Which throes thee much to yield.

251Thus, sir:

252Although this lord of weak remembrance, this,

253Who shall be of as little memory

254When he is earth'd, hath here almost persuade,--

255For he's a spirit of persuasion, only

256Professes to persuade,--the king his son's alive,

257'Tis as impossible that he's undrown'd

258And he that sleeps here swims.

259I have no hope

260That he's undrown'd.

261O, out of that 'no hope'

262What great hope have you! no hope that way is

263Another way so high a hope that even

264Ambition cannot pierce a wink beyond,

265But doubt discovery there. Will you grant with me

266That Ferdinand is drown'd?

267He's gone.

268Then, tell me,

269Who's the next heir of Naples?

270Claribel.

271She that is queen of Tunis; she that dwells

272Ten leagues beyond man's life; she that from Naples

273Can have no note, unless the sun were post--

274The man i' the moon's too slow--till new-born chins

275Be rough and razorable; she that--from whom?

276We all were sea-swallow'd, though some cast again,

277And by that destiny to perform an act

278Whereof what's past is prologue, what to come

279In yours and my discharge.

280What stuff is this! how say you?

281'Tis true, my brother's daughter's queen of Tunis;

282So is she heir of Naples; 'twixt which regions

283There is some space.

284A space whose every cubit

285Seems to cry out, 'How shall that Claribel

286Measure us back to Naples? Keep in Tunis,

287And let Sebastian wake.' Say, this were death

288That now hath seized them; why, they were no worse

289Than now they are. There be that can rule Naples

290As well as he that sleeps; lords that can prate

291As amply and unnecessarily

292As this Gonzalo; I myself could make

293A chough of as deep chat. O, that you bore

294The mind that I do! what a sleep were this

295For your advancement! Do you understand me?

296Methinks I do.

297And how does your content

298Tender your own good fortune?

299I remember

300You did supplant your brother Prospero.

301True:

302And look how well my garments sit upon me;

303Much feater than before: my brother's servants

304Were then my fellows; now they are my men.

305But, for your conscience?

306Ay, sir; where lies that? if 'twere a kibe,

307'Twould put me to my slipper: but I feel not

308This deity in my bosom: twenty consciences,

309That stand 'twixt me and Milan, candied be they

310And melt ere they molest! Here lies your brother,

311No better than the earth he lies upon,

312If he were that which now he's like, that's dead;

313Whom I, with this obedient steel, three inches of it,

314Can lay to bed for ever; whiles you, doing thus,

315To the perpetual wink for aye might put

316This ancient morsel, this Sir Prudence, who

317Should not upbraid our course. For all the rest,

318They'll take suggestion as a cat laps milk;

319They'll tell the clock to any business that

320We say befits the hour.

321Thy case, dear friend,

322Shall be my precedent; as thou got'st Milan,

323I'll come by Naples. Draw thy sword: one stroke

324Shall free thee from the tribute which thou payest;

325And I the king shall love thee.

326Draw together;

327And when I rear my hand, do you the like,

328To fall it on Gonzalo.

329O, but one word.

330My master through his art foresees the danger

331That you, his friend, are in; and sends me forth--

332For else his project dies--to keep them living.

333While you here do snoring lie,

334Open-eyed conspiracy

335His time doth take.

336If of life you keep a care,

337Shake off slumber, and beware:

338Awake, awake!

339Then let us both be sudden.

340Now, good angels

341Preserve the king.

342Why, how now? ho, awake! Why are you drawn?

343Wherefore this ghastly looking?

344What's the matter?

345Whiles we stood here securing your repose,

346Even now, we heard a hollow burst of bellowing

347Like bulls, or rather lions: did't not wake you?

348It struck mine ear most terribly.

349I heard nothing.

350O, 'twas a din to fright a monster's ear,

351To make an earthquake! sure, it was the roar

352Of a whole herd of lions.

353Heard you this, Gonzalo?

354Upon mine honour, sir, I heard a humming,

355And that a strange one too, which did awake me:

356I shaked you, sir, and cried: as mine eyes open'd,

357I saw their weapons drawn: there was a noise,

358That's verily. 'Tis best we stand upon our guard,

359Or that we quit this place; let's draw our weapons.

360Lead off this ground; and let's make further search

361For my poor son.

362Heavens keep him from these beasts!

363For he is, sure, i' the island.

364Lead away.

365Prospero my lord shall know what I have done:

366So, king, go safely on to seek thy son.

1All the infections that the sun sucks up

2From bogs, fens, flats, on Prosper fall and make him

3By inch-meal a disease! His spirits hear me

4And yet I needs must curse. But they'll nor pinch,

5Fright me with urchin--shows, pitch me i' the mire,

6Nor lead me, like a firebrand, in the dark

7Out of my way, unless he bid 'em; but

8For every trifle are they set upon me;

9Sometime like apes that mow and chatter at me

10And after bite me, then like hedgehogs which

11Lie tumbling in my barefoot way and mount

12Their pricks at my footfall; sometime am I

13All wound with adders who with cloven tongues

14Do hiss me into madness.

15Lo, now, lo!

16Here comes a spirit of his, and to torment me

17For bringing wood in slowly. I'll fall flat;

18Perchance he will not mind me.

19Here's neither bush nor shrub, to bear off

20any weather at all, and another storm brewing;

21I hear it sing i' the wind: yond same black

22cloud, yond huge one, looks like a foul

23bombard that would shed his liquor. If it

24should thunder as it did before, I know not

25where to hide my head: yond same cloud cannot

26choose but fall by pailfuls. What have we

27here? a man or a fish? dead or alive? A fish:

28he smells like a fish; a very ancient and fish-

29like smell; a kind of not of the newest Poor-

30John. A strange fish! Were I in England now,

31as once I was, and had but this fish painted,

32not a holiday fool there but would give a piece

33of silver: there would this monster make a

34man; any strange beast there makes a man:

35when they will not give a doit to relieve a lame

36beggar, they will lazy out ten to see a dead

37Indian. Legged like a man and his fins like

38arms! Warm o' my troth! I do now let loose

39my opinion; hold it no longer: this is no fish,

40but an islander, that hath lately suffered by a

41thunderbolt.

42Alas, the storm is come again! my best way is to

43creep under his gaberdine; there is no other

44shelter hereabouts: misery acquaints a man with

45strange bed-fellows. I will here shroud till the

46dregs of the storm be past.

47I shall no more to sea, to sea,

48Here shall I die ashore--

49This is a very scurvy tune to sing at a man's

50funeral: well, here's my comfort.

51The master, the swabber, the boatswain and I,

52The gunner and his mate

53Loved Mall, Meg and Marian and Margery,

54But none of us cared for Kate;

55For she had a tongue with a tang,

56Would cry to a sailor, Go hang!

57She loved not the savour of tar nor of pitch,

58Yet a tailor might scratch her where'er she did itch:

59Then to sea, boys, and let her go hang!

60This is a scurvy tune too: but here's my comfort.

61Do not torment me: Oh!

62What's the matter? Have we devils here? Do you put

63tricks upon's with savages and men of Ind, ha? I

64have not scaped drowning to be afeard now of your

65four legs; for it hath been said, As proper a man as

66ever went on four legs cannot make him give ground;

67and it shall be said so again while Stephano

68breathes at's nostrils.

69The spirit torments me; Oh!

70This is some monster of the isle with four legs, who

71hath got, as I take it, an ague. Where the devil

72should he learn our language? I will give him some

73relief, if it be but for that. if I can recover him

74and keep him tame and get to Naples with him, he's a

75present for any emperor that ever trod on neat's leather.

76Do not torment me, prithee; I'll bring my wood home faster.

77He's in his fit now and does not talk after the

78wisest. He shall taste of my bottle: if he have

79never drunk wine afore will go near to remove his

80fit. If I can recover him and keep him tame, I will

81not take too much for him; he shall pay for him that

82hath him, and that soundly.

83Thou dost me yet but little hurt; thou wilt anon, I

84know it by thy trembling: now Prosper works upon thee.

85Come on your ways; open your mouth; here is that

86which will give language to you, cat: open your

87mouth; this will shake your shaking, I can tell you,

88and that soundly: you cannot tell who's your friend:

89open your chaps again.

90I should know that voice: it should be--but he is

91drowned; and these are devils: O defend me!

92Four legs and two voices: a most delicate monster!

93His forward voice now is to speak well of his

94friend; his backward voice is to utter foul speeches

95and to detract. If all the wine in my bottle will

96recover him, I will help his ague. Come. Amen! I

97will pour some in thy other mouth.

98Stephano!

99Doth thy other mouth call me? Mercy, mercy! This is

100a devil, and no monster: I will leave him; I have no

101long spoon.

102Stephano! If thou beest Stephano, touch me and

103speak to me: for I am Trinculo--be not afeard--thy

104good friend Trinculo.

105If thou beest Trinculo, come forth: I'll pull thee

106by the lesser legs: if any be Trinculo's legs,

107these are they. Thou art very Trinculo indeed! How

108camest thou to be the siege of this moon-calf? can

109he vent Trinculos?

110I took him to be killed with a thunder-stroke. But

111art thou not drowned, Stephano? I hope now thou art

112not drowned. Is the storm overblown? I hid me

113under the dead moon-calf's gaberdine for fear of

114the storm. And art thou living, Stephano? O

115Stephano, two Neapolitans 'scaped!

116Prithee, do not turn me about; my stomach is not constant.

117[Aside] These be fine things, an if they be

118not sprites.

119That's a brave god and bears celestial liquor.

120I will kneel to him.

121How didst thou 'scape? How camest thou hither?

122swear by this bottle how thou camest hither. I

123escaped upon a butt of sack which the sailors

124heaved o'erboard, by this bottle; which I made of

125the bark of a tree with mine own hands since I was

126cast ashore.

127I'll swear upon that bottle to be thy true subject;

128for the liquor is not earthly.

129Here; swear then how thou escapedst.

130Swum ashore. man, like a duck: I can swim like a

131duck, I'll be sworn.

132Here, kiss the book. Though thou canst swim like a

133duck, thou art made like a goose.

134O Stephano. hast any more of this?

135The whole butt, man: my cellar is in a rock by the

136sea-side where my wine is hid. How now, moon-calf!

137how does thine ague?

138Hast thou not dropp'd from heaven?

139Out o' the moon, I do assure thee: I was the man i'

140the moon when time was.

141I have seen thee in her and I do adore thee:

142My mistress show'd me thee and thy dog and thy bush.

143Come, swear to that; kiss the book: I will furnish

144it anon with new contents swear.

145By this good light, this is a very shallow monster!

146I afeard of him! A very weak monster! The man i'

147the moon! A most poor credulous monster! Well

148drawn, monster, in good sooth!

149I'll show thee every fertile inch o' th' island;

150And I will kiss thy foot: I prithee, be my god.

151By this light, a most perfidious and drunken

152monster! when 's god's asleep, he'll rob his bottle.

153I'll kiss thy foot; I'll swear myself thy subject.

154Come on then; down, and swear.

155I shall laugh myself to death at this puppy-headed

156monster. A most scurvy monster! I could find in my

157heart to beat him,--

158Come, kiss.

159But that the poor monster's in drink: an abominable monster!

160I'll show thee the best springs; I'll pluck thee berries;

161I'll fish for thee and get thee wood enough.

162A plague upon the tyrant that I serve!

163I'll bear him no more sticks, but follow thee,

164Thou wondrous man.

165A most ridiculous monster, to make a wonder of a

166Poor drunkard!

167I prithee, let me bring thee where crabs grow;

168And I with my long nails will dig thee pignuts;

169Show thee a jay's nest and instruct thee how

170To snare the nimble marmoset; I'll bring thee

171To clustering filberts and sometimes I'll get thee

172Young scamels from the rock. Wilt thou go with me?

173I prithee now, lead the way without any more

174talking. Trinculo, the king and all our company

175else being drowned, we will inherit here: here;

176bear my bottle: fellow Trinculo, we'll fill him by

177and by again.

178[Sings drunkenly]

179Farewell master; farewell, farewell!

180A howling monster: a drunken monster!

181No more dams I'll make for fish

182Nor fetch in firing

183At requiring;

184Nor scrape trencher, nor wash dish

185'Ban, 'Ban, Cacaliban

186Has a new master: get a new man.

187Freedom, hey-day! hey-day, freedom! freedom,

188hey-day, freedom!

189O brave monster! Lead the way.

1There be some sports are painful, and their labour

2Delight in them sets off: some kinds of baseness

3Are nobly undergone and most poor matters

4Point to rich ends. This my mean task

5Would be as heavy to me as odious, but

6The mistress which I serve quickens what's dead

7And makes my labours pleasures: O, she is

8Ten times more gentle than her father's crabbed,

9And he's composed of harshness. I must remove

10Some thousands of these logs and pile them up,

11Upon a sore injunction: my sweet mistress

12Weeps when she sees me work, and says, such baseness

13Had never like executor. I forget:

14But these sweet thoughts do even refresh my labours,

15Most busy lest, when I do it.

16Alas, now, pray you,

17Work not so hard: I would the lightning had

18Burnt up those logs that you are enjoin'd to pile!

19Pray, set it down and rest you: when this burns,

20'Twill weep for having wearied you. My father

21Is hard at study; pray now, rest yourself;

22He's safe for these three hours.

23O most dear mistress,

24The sun will set before I shall discharge

25What I must strive to do.

26If you'll sit down,

27I'll bear your logs the while: pray, give me that;

28I'll carry it to the pile.

29No, precious creature;

30I had rather crack my sinews, break my back,

31Than you should such dishonour undergo,

32While I sit lazy by.

33It would become me

34As well as it does you: and I should do it

35With much more ease; for my good will is to it,

36And yours it is against.

37Poor worm, thou art infected!

38This visitation shows it.

39You look wearily.

40No, noble mistress;'tis fresh morning with me

41When you are by at night. I do beseech you--

42Chiefly that I might set it in my prayers--

43What is your name?

44Miranda.--O my father,

45I have broke your hest to say so!

46Admired Miranda!

47Indeed the top of admiration! worth

48What's dearest to the world! Full many a lady

49I have eyed with best regard and many a time

50The harmony of their tongues hath into bondage

51Brought my too diligent ear: for several virtues

52Have I liked several women; never any

53With so fun soul, but some defect in her

54Did quarrel with the noblest grace she owed

55And put it to the foil: but you, O you,

56So perfect and so peerless, are created

57Of every creature's best!

58I do not know

59One of my sex; no woman's face remember,

60Save, from my glass, mine own; nor have I seen

61More that I may call men than you, good friend,

62And my dear father: how features are abroad,

63I am skilless of; but, by my modesty,

64The jewel in my dower, I would not wish

65Any companion in the world but you,

66Nor can imagination form a shape,

67Besides yourself, to like of. But I prattle

68Something too wildly and my father's precepts

69I therein do forget.

70I am in my condition

71A prince, Miranda; I do think, a king;

72I would, not so!--and would no more endure

73This wooden slavery than to suffer

74The flesh-fly blow my mouth. Hear my soul speak:

75The very instant that I saw you, did

76My heart fly to your service; there resides,

77To make me slave to it; and for your sake

78Am I this patient log--man.

79Do you love me?

80O heaven, O earth, bear witness to this sound

81And crown what I profess with kind event

82If I speak true! if hollowly, invert

83What best is boded me to mischief! I

84Beyond all limit of what else i' the world

85Do love, prize, honour you.

86I am a fool

87To weep at what I am glad of.

88Fair encounter

89Of two most rare affections! Heavens rain grace

90On that which breeds between 'em!

91Wherefore weep you?

92At mine unworthiness that dare not offer

93What I desire to give, and much less take

94What I shall die to want. But this is trifling;

95And all the more it seeks to hide itself,

96The bigger bulk it shows. Hence, bashful cunning!

97And prompt me, plain and holy innocence!

98I am your wife, if you will marry me;

99If not, I'll die your maid: to be your fellow

100You may deny me; but I'll be your servant,

101Whether you will or no.

102My mistress, dearest;

103And I thus humble ever.

104My husband, then?

105Ay, with a heart as willing

106As bondage e'er of freedom: here's my hand.

107And mine, with my heart in't; and now farewell

108Till half an hour hence.

109A thousand thousand!

110So glad of this as they I cannot be,

111Who are surprised withal; but my rejoicing

112At nothing can be more. I'll to my book,

113For yet ere supper-time must I perform

114Much business appertaining.

1Tell not me; when the butt is out, we will drink

2water; not a drop before: therefore bear up, and

3board 'em. Servant-monster, drink to me.

4Servant-monster! the folly of this island! They

5say there's but five upon this isle: we are three

6of them; if th' other two be brained like us, the

7state totters.

8Drink, servant-monster, when I bid thee: thy eyes

9are almost set in thy head.

10Where should they be set else? he were a brave

11monster indeed, if they were set in his tail.

12My man-monster hath drown'd his tongue in sack:

13for my part, the sea cannot drown me; I swam, ere I

14could recover the shore, five and thirty leagues off

15and on. By this light, thou shalt be my lieutenant,

16monster, or my standard.

17Your lieutenant, if you list; he's no standard.

18We'll not run, Monsieur Monster.

19Nor go neither; but you'll lie like dogs and yet say

20nothing neither.

21Moon-calf, speak once in thy life, if thou beest a

22good moon-calf.

23How does thy honour? Let me lick thy shoe.

24I'll not serve him; he's not valiant.

25Thou liest, most ignorant monster: I am in case to

26justle a constable. Why, thou deboshed fish thou,

27was there ever man a coward that hath drunk so much

28sack as I to-day? Wilt thou tell a monstrous lie,

29being but half a fish and half a monster?

30Lo, how he mocks me! wilt thou let him, my lord?

31'Lord' quoth he! That a monster should be such a natural!

32Lo, lo, again! bite him to death, I prithee.

33Trinculo, keep a good tongue in your head: if you

34prove a mutineer,--the next tree! The poor monster's

35my subject and he shall not suffer indignity.

36I thank my noble lord. Wilt thou be pleased to

37hearken once again to the suit I made to thee?

38Marry, will I kneel and repeat it; I will stand,

39and so shall Trinculo.

40As I told thee before, I am subject to a tyrant, a

41sorcerer, that by his cunning hath cheated me of the island.

42Thou liest.

43Thou liest, thou jesting monkey, thou: I would my

44valiant master would destroy thee! I do not lie.

45Trinculo, if you trouble him any more in's tale, by

46this hand, I will supplant some of your teeth.

47Why, I said nothing.

48Mum, then, and no more. Proceed.

49I say, by sorcery he got this isle;

50From me he got it. if thy greatness will

51Revenge it on him,--for I know thou darest,

52But this thing dare not,--

53That's most certain.

54Thou shalt be lord of it and I'll serve thee.

55How now shall this be compassed?

56Canst thou bring me to the party?

57Yea, yea, my lord: I'll yield him thee asleep,

58Where thou mayst knock a nail into his bead.

59Thou liest; thou canst not.

60What a pied ninny's this! Thou scurvy patch!

61I do beseech thy greatness, give him blows

62And take his bottle from him: when that's gone

63He shall drink nought but brine; for I'll not show him

64Where the quick freshes are.

65Trinculo, run into no further danger:

66interrupt the monster one word further, and,

67by this hand, I'll turn my mercy out o' doors

68and make a stock-fish of thee.

69Why, what did I? I did nothing. I'll go farther

70off.

71Didst thou not say he lied?

72Thou liest.

73Do I so? take thou that.

74As you like this, give me the lie another time.

75I did not give the lie. Out o' your

76wits and bearing too? A pox o' your bottle!

77this can sack and drinking do. A murrain on

78your monster, and the devil take your fingers!

79Ha, ha, ha!

80Now, forward with your tale. Prithee, stand farther

81off.

82Beat him enough: after a little time

83I'll beat him too.

84Stand farther. Come, proceed.

85Why, as I told thee, 'tis a custom with him,

86I' th' afternoon to sleep: there thou mayst brain him,

87Having first seized his books, or with a log

88Batter his skull, or paunch him with a stake,

89Or cut his wezand with thy knife. Remember

90First to possess his books; for without them

91He's but a sot, as I am, nor hath not

92One spirit to command: they all do hate him

93As rootedly as I. Burn but his books.

94He has brave utensils,--for so he calls them--

95Which when he has a house, he'll deck withal

96And that most deeply to consider is

97The beauty of his daughter; he himself

98Calls her a nonpareil: I never saw a woman,

99But only Sycorax my dam and she;

100But she as far surpasseth Sycorax

101As great'st does least.

102Is it so brave a lass?

103Ay, lord; she will become thy bed, I warrant.

104And bring thee forth brave brood.

105Monster, I will kill this man: his daughter and I

106will be king and queen--save our graces!--and

107Trinculo and thyself shall be viceroys. Dost thou

108like the plot, Trinculo?

109Excellent.

110Give me thy hand: I am sorry I beat thee; but,

111while thou livest, keep a good tongue in thy head.

112Within this half hour will he be asleep:

113Wilt thou destroy him then?

114Ay, on mine honour.

115This will I tell my master.

116Thou makest me merry; I am full of pleasure:

117Let us be jocund: will you troll the catch

118You taught me but while-ere?

119At thy request, monster, I will do reason, any

120reason. Come on, Trinculo, let us sing.

121Flout 'em and scout 'em

122And scout 'em and flout 'em

123Thought is free.

124That's not the tune.

125What is this same?

126This is the tune of our catch, played by the picture

127of Nobody.

128If thou beest a man, show thyself in thy likeness:

129if thou beest a devil, take't as thou list.

130O, forgive me my sins!

131He that dies pays all debts: I defy thee. Mercy upon us!

132Art thou afeard?

133No, monster, not I.

134Be not afeard; the isle is full of noises,

135Sounds and sweet airs, that give delight and hurt not.

136Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments

137Will hum about mine ears, and sometime voices

138That, if I then had waked after long sleep,

139Will make me sleep again: and then, in dreaming,

140The clouds methought would open and show riches

141Ready to drop upon me that, when I waked,

142I cried to dream again.

143This will prove a brave kingdom to me, where I shall

144have my music for nothing.

145When Prospero is destroyed.

146That shall be by and by: I remember the story.

147The sound is going away; let's follow it, and

148after do our work.

149Lead, monster; we'll follow. I would I could see

150this tabourer; he lays it on.

151Wilt come? I'll follow, Stephano.

1By'r lakin, I can go no further, sir;

2My old bones ache: here's a maze trod indeed

3Through forth-rights and meanders! By your patience,

4I needs must rest me.

5Old lord, I cannot blame thee,

6Who am myself attach'd with weariness,

7To the dulling of my spirits: sit down, and rest.

8Even here I will put off my hope and keep it

9No longer for my flatterer: he is drown'd

10Whom thus we stray to find, and the sea mocks

11Our frustrate search on land. Well, let him go.

12[Aside to SEBASTIAN] I am right glad that he's so

13out of hope.

14Do not, for one repulse, forego the purpose

15That you resolved to effect.

16[Aside to ANTONIO] The next advantage

17Will we take throughly.

18[Aside to SEBASTIAN] Let it be to-night;

19For, now they are oppress'd with travel, they

20Will not, nor cannot, use such vigilance

21As when they are fresh.

22[Aside to ANTONIO] I say, to-night: no more.

23What harmony is this? My good friends, hark!

24Marvellous sweet music!

25Give us kind keepers, heavens! What were these?

26A living drollery. Now I will believe

27That there are unicorns, that in Arabia

28There is one tree, the phoenix' throne, one phoenix

29At this hour reigning there.

30I'll believe both;

31And what does else want credit, come to me,

32And I'll be sworn 'tis true: travellers ne'er did

33lie,

34Though fools at home condemn 'em.

35If in Naples

36I should report this now, would they believe me?

37If I should say, I saw such islanders--

38For, certes, these are people of the island--

39Who, though they are of monstrous shape, yet, note,

40Their manners are more gentle-kind than of

41Our human generation you shall find

42Many, nay, almost any.

43[Aside] Honest lord,

44Thou hast said well; for some of you there present

45Are worse than devils.

46I cannot too much muse

47Such shapes, such gesture and such sound, expressing,

48Although they want the use of tongue, a kind

49Of excellent dumb discourse.

50[Aside] Praise in departing.

51They vanish'd strangely.

52No matter, since

53They have left their viands behind; for we have stomachs.

54Will't please you taste of what is here?

55Not I.

56Faith, sir, you need not fear. When we were boys,

57Who would believe that there were mountaineers

58Dew-lapp'd like bulls, whose throats had hanging at 'em

59Wallets of flesh? or that there were such men

60Whose heads stood in their breasts? which now we find

61Each putter-out of five for one will bring us

62Good warrant of.

63I will stand to and feed,

64Although my last: no matter, since I feel

65The best is past. Brother, my lord the duke,

66Stand to and do as we.

67You are three men of sin, whom Destiny,

68That hath to instrument this lower world

69And what is in't, the never-surfeited sea

70Hath caused to belch up you; and on this island

71Where man doth not inhabit; you 'mongst men

72Being most unfit to live. I have made you mad;

73And even with such-like valour men hang and drown

74Their proper selves.

75You fools! I and my fellows

76Are ministers of Fate: the elements,

77Of whom your swords are temper'd, may as well

78Wound the loud winds, or with bemock'd-at stabs

79Kill the still-closing waters, as diminish

80One dowle that's in my plume: my fellow-ministers

81Are like invulnerable. If you could hurt,

82Your swords are now too massy for your strengths

83And will not be uplifted. But remember--

84For that's my business to you--that you three

85From Milan did supplant good Prospero;

86Exposed unto the sea, which hath requit it,

87Him and his innocent child: for which foul deed

88The powers, delaying, not forgetting, have

89Incensed the seas and shores, yea, all the creatures,

90Against your peace. Thee of thy son, Alonso,

91They have bereft; and do pronounce by me:

92Lingering perdition, worse than any death

93Can be at once, shall step by step attend

94You and your ways; whose wraths to guard you from--

95Which here, in this most desolate isle, else falls

96Upon your heads--is nothing but heart-sorrow

97And a clear life ensuing.

98Bravely the figure of this harpy hast thou

99Perform'd, my Ariel; a grace it had, devouring:

100Of my instruction hast thou nothing bated

101In what thou hadst to say: so, with good life

102And observation strange, my meaner ministers

103Their several kinds have done. My high charms work

104And these mine enemies are all knit up

105In their distractions; they now are in my power;

106And in these fits I leave them, while I visit

107Young Ferdinand, whom they suppose is drown'd,

108And his and mine loved darling.

109I' the name of something holy, sir, why stand you

110In this strange stare?

111O, it is monstrous, monstrous:

112Methought the billows spoke and told me of it;

113The winds did sing it to me, and the thunder,

114That deep and dreadful organ-pipe, pronounced

115The name of Prosper: it did bass my trespass.

116Therefore my son i' the ooze is bedded, and

117I'll seek him deeper than e'er plummet sounded

118And with him there lie mudded.

119But one fiend at a time,

120I'll fight their legions o'er.

121I'll be thy second.

122All three of them are desperate: their great guilt,

123Like poison given to work a great time after,

124Now 'gins to bite the spirits. I do beseech you

125That are of suppler joints, follow them swiftly

126And hinder them from what this ecstasy

127May now provoke them to.

128Follow, I pray you.

1If I have too austerely punish'd you,

2Your compensation makes amends, for I

3Have given you here a third of mine own life,

4Or that for which I live; who once again

5I tender to thy hand: all thy vexations

6Were but my trials of thy love and thou

7Hast strangely stood the test here, afore Heaven,

8I ratify this my rich gift. O Ferdinand,

9Do not smile at me that I boast her off,

10For thou shalt find she will outstrip all praise

11And make it halt behind her.

12I do believe it

13Against an oracle.

14Then, as my gift and thine own acquisition

15Worthily purchased take my daughter: but

16If thou dost break her virgin-knot before

17All sanctimonious ceremonies may

18With full and holy rite be minister'd,

19No sweet aspersion shall the heavens let fall

20To make this contract grow: but barren hate,

21Sour-eyed disdain and discord shall bestrew

22The union of your bed with weeds so loathly

23That you shall hate it both: therefore take heed,

24As Hymen's lamps shall light you.

25As I hope

26For quiet days, fair issue and long life,

27With such love as 'tis now, the murkiest den,

28The most opportune place, the strong'st suggestion.

29Our worser genius can, shall never melt

30Mine honour into lust, to take away

31The edge of that day's celebration

32When I shall think: or Phoebus' steeds are founder'd,

33Or Night kept chain'd below.

34Fairly spoke.

35Sit then and talk with her; she is thine own.

36What, Ariel! my industrious servant, Ariel!

37What would my potent master? here I am.

38Thou and thy meaner fellows your last service

39Did worthily perform; and I must use you

40In such another trick. Go bring the rabble,

41O'er whom I give thee power, here to this place:

42Incite them to quick motion; for I must

43Bestow upon the eyes of this young couple

44Some vanity of mine art: it is my promise,

45And they expect it from me.

46Presently?

47Ay, with a twink.

48Before you can say 'come' and 'go,'

49And breathe twice and cry 'so, so,'

50Each one, tripping on his toe,

51Will be here with mop and mow.

52Do you love me, master? no?

53Dearly my delicate Ariel. Do not approach

54Till thou dost hear me call.

55Well, I conceive.

56Look thou be true; do not give dalliance

57Too much the rein: the strongest oaths are straw

58To the fire i' the blood: be more abstemious,

59Or else, good night your vow!

60I warrant you sir;

61The white cold virgin snow upon my heart

62Abates the ardour of my liver.

63Well.

64Now come, my Ariel! bring a corollary,

65Rather than want a spirit: appear and pertly!

66No tongue! all eyes! be silent.

67Ceres, most bounteous lady, thy rich leas

68Of wheat, rye, barley, vetches, oats and pease;

69Thy turfy mountains, where live nibbling sheep,

70And flat meads thatch'd with stover, them to keep;

71Thy banks with pioned and twilled brims,

72Which spongy April at thy hest betrims,

73To make cold nymphs chaste crowns; and thy broom -groves,

74Whose shadow the dismissed bachelor loves,

75Being lass-lorn: thy pole-clipt vineyard;

76And thy sea-marge, sterile and rocky-hard,

77Where thou thyself dost air;--the queen o' the sky,

78Whose watery arch and messenger am I,

79Bids thee leave these, and with her sovereign grace,

80Here on this grass-plot, in this very place,

81To come and sport: her peacocks fly amain:

82Approach, rich Ceres, her to entertain.

83Hail, many-colour'd messenger, that ne'er

84Dost disobey the wife of Jupiter;

85Who with thy saffron wings upon my flowers

86Diffusest honey-drops, refreshing showers,

87And with each end of thy blue bow dost crown

88My bosky acres and my unshrubb'd down,

89Rich scarf to my proud earth; why hath thy queen

90Summon'd me hither, to this short-grass'd green?

91A contract of true love to celebrate;

92And some donation freely to estate

93On the blest lovers.

94Tell me, heavenly bow,

95If Venus or her son, as thou dost know,

96Do now attend the queen? Since they did plot

97The means that dusky Dis my daughter got,

98Her and her blind boy's scandal'd company

99I have forsworn.

100Of her society

101Be not afraid: I met her deity

102Cutting the clouds towards Paphos and her son

103Dove-drawn with her. Here thought they to have done

104Some wanton charm upon this man and maid,

105Whose vows are, that no bed-right shall be paid

106Till Hymen's torch be lighted: but vain;

107Mars's hot minion is returned again;

108Her waspish-headed son has broke his arrows,

109Swears he will shoot no more but play with sparrows

110And be a boy right out.

111High'st queen of state,

112Great Juno, comes; I know her by her gait.

113How does my bounteous sister? Go with me

114To bless this twain, that they may prosperous be

115And honour'd in their issue.

116Honour, riches, marriage-blessing,

117Long continuance, and increasing,

118Hourly joys be still upon you!

119Juno sings her blessings upon you.

120Earth's increase, foison plenty,

121Barns and garners never empty,

122Vines and clustering bunches growing,

123Plants with goodly burthen bowing;

124Spring come to you at the farthest

125In the very end of harvest!

126Scarcity and want shall shun you;

127Ceres' blessing so is on you.

128This is a most majestic vision, and

129Harmoniously charmingly. May I be bold

130To think these spirits?

131Spirits, which by mine art

132I have from their confines call'd to enact

133My present fancies.

134Let me live here ever;

135So rare a wonder'd father and a wife

136Makes this place Paradise.

137Sweet, now, silence!

138Juno and Ceres whisper seriously;

139There's something else to do: hush, and be mute,

140Or else our spell is marr'd.

141You nymphs, call'd Naiads, of the windring brooks,

142With your sedged crowns and ever-harmless looks,

143Leave your crisp channels and on this green land

144Answer your summons; Juno does command:

145Come, temperate nymphs, and help to celebrate

146A contract of true love; be not too late.

147You sunburnt sicklemen, of August weary,

148Come hither from the furrow and be merry:

149Make holiday; your rye-straw hats put on

150And these fresh nymphs encounter every one

151In country footing.

152[Aside] I had forgot that foul conspiracy

153Of the beast Caliban and his confederates

154Against my life: the minute of their plot

155Is almost come.

156Well done! avoid; no more!

157This is strange: your father's in some passion

158That works him strongly.

159Never till this day

160Saw I him touch'd with anger so distemper'd.

161You do look, my son, in a moved sort,

162As if you were dismay'd: be cheerful, sir.

163Our revels now are ended. These our actors,

164As I foretold you, were all spirits and

165Are melted into air, into thin air:

166And, like the baseless fabric of this vision,

167The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces,

168The solemn temples, the great globe itself,

169Ye all which it inherit, shall dissolve

170And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,

171Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff

172As dreams are made on, and our little life

173Is rounded with a sleep. Sir, I am vex'd;

174Bear with my weakness; my, brain is troubled:

175Be not disturb'd with my infirmity:

176If you be pleased, retire into my cell

177And there repose: a turn or two I'll walk,

178To still my beating mind.

179We wish your peace.

180Come with a thought I thank thee, Ariel: come.

181Thy thoughts I cleave to. What's thy pleasure?

182Spirit,

183We must prepare to meet with Caliban.

184Ay, my commander: when I presented Ceres,

185I thought to have told thee of it, but I fear'd

186Lest I might anger thee.

187Say again, where didst thou leave these varlets?

188I told you, sir, they were red-hot with drinking;

189So fun of valour that they smote the air

190For breathing in their faces; beat the ground

191For kissing of their feet; yet always bending

192Towards their project. Then I beat my tabour;

193At which, like unback'd colts, they prick'd

194their ears,

195Advanced their eyelids, lifted up their noses

196As they smelt music: so I charm'd their ears

197That calf-like they my lowing follow'd through

198Tooth'd briers, sharp furzes, pricking goss and thorns,

199Which entered their frail shins: at last I left them

200I' the filthy-mantled pool beyond your cell,

201There dancing up to the chins, that the foul lake

202O'erstunk their feet.

203This was well done, my bird.

204Thy shape invisible retain thou still:

205The trumpery in my house, go bring it hither,

206For stale to catch these thieves.

207I go, I go.

208A devil, a born devil, on whose nature

209Nurture can never stick; on whom my pains,

210Humanely taken, all, all lost, quite lost;

211And as with age his body uglier grows,

212So his mind cankers. I will plague them all,

213Even to roaring.

214Come, hang them on this line.

215Pray you, tread softly, that the blind mole may not

216Hear a foot fall: we now are near his cell.

217Monster, your fairy, which you say is

218a harmless fairy, has done little better than

219played the Jack with us.

220Monster, I do smell all horse-piss; at

221which my nose is in great indignation.

222So is mine. Do you hear, monster? If I should take

223a displeasure against you, look you,--

224Thou wert but a lost monster.

225Good my lord, give me thy favour still.

226Be patient, for the prize I'll bring thee to

227Shall hoodwink this mischance: therefore speak softly.

228All's hush'd as midnight yet.

229Ay, but to lose our bottles in the pool,--

230There is not only disgrace and dishonour in that,

231monster, but an infinite loss.

232That's more to me than my wetting: yet this is your

233harmless fairy, monster.

234I will fetch off my bottle, though I be o'er ears

235for my labour.

236Prithee, my king, be quiet. Seest thou here,

237This is the mouth o' the cell: no noise, and enter.

238Do that good mischief which may make this island

239Thine own for ever, and I, thy Caliban,

240For aye thy foot-licker.

241Give me thy hand. I do begin to have bloody thoughts.

242O king Stephano! O peer! O worthy Stephano! look

243what a wardrobe here is for thee!

244Let it alone, thou fool; it is but trash.

245O, ho, monster! we know what belongs to a frippery.

246O king Stephano!

247Put off that gown, Trinculo; by this hand, I'll have

248that gown.

249Thy grace shall have it.

250The dropsy drown this fool I what do you mean

251To dote thus on such luggage? Let's alone

252And do the murder first: if he awake,

253From toe to crown he'll fill our skins with pinches,

254Make us strange stuff.

255Be you quiet, monster. Mistress line,

256is not this my jerkin? Now is the jerkin under

257the line: now, jerkin, you are like to lose your

258hair and prove a bald jerkin.

259Do, do: we steal by line and level, an't like your grace.

260I thank thee for that jest; here's a garment for't:

261wit shall not go unrewarded while I am king of this

262country. 'Steal by line and level' is an excellent

263pass of pate; there's another garment for't.

264Monster, come, put some lime upon your fingers, and

265away with the rest.

266I will have none on't: we shall lose our time,

267And all be turn'd to barnacles, or to apes

268With foreheads villanous low.

269Monster, lay-to your fingers: help to bear this

270away where my hogshead of wine is, or I'll turn you

271out of my kingdom: go to, carry this.

272And this.

273Ay, and this.

274Hey, Mountain, hey!

275Silver I there it goes, Silver!

276Fury, Fury! there, Tyrant, there! hark! hark!

277Go charge my goblins that they grind their joints

278With dry convulsions, shorten up their sinews

279With aged cramps, and more pinch-spotted make them

280Than pard or cat o' mountain.

281Hark, they roar!

282Let them be hunted soundly. At this hour

283Lie at my mercy all mine enemies:

284Shortly shall all my labours end, and thou

285Shalt have the air at freedom: for a little

286Follow, and do me service.

1Now does my project gather to a head:

2My charms crack not; my spirits obey; and time

3Goes upright with his carriage. How's the day?

4On the sixth hour; at which time, my lord,

5You said our work should cease.

6I did say so,

7When first I raised the tempest. Say, my spirit,

8How fares the king and's followers?

9Confined together

10In the same fashion as you gave in charge,

11Just as you left them; all prisoners, sir,

12In the line-grove which weather-fends your cell;

13They cannot budge till your release. The king,

14His brother and yours, abide all three distracted

15And the remainder mourning over them,

16Brimful of sorrow and dismay; but chiefly

17Him that you term'd, sir, 'The good old lord Gonzalo;'

18His tears run down his beard, like winter's drops

19From eaves of reeds. Your charm so strongly works 'em

20That if you now beheld them, your affections

21Would become tender.

22Dost thou think so, spirit?

23Mine would, sir, were I human.

24And mine shall.

25Hast thou, which art but air, a touch, a feeling

26Of their afflictions, and shall not myself,

27One of their kind, that relish all as sharply,

28Passion as they, be kindlier moved than thou art?

29Though with their high wrongs I am struck to the quick,

30Yet with my nobler reason 'gaitist my fury

31Do I take part: the rarer action is

32In virtue than in vengeance: they being penitent,

33The sole drift of my purpose doth extend

34Not a frown further. Go release them, Ariel:

35My charms I'll break, their senses I'll restore,

36And they shall be themselves.

37I'll fetch them, sir.

38Ye elves of hills, brooks, standing lakes and groves,

39And ye that on the sands with printless foot

40Do chase the ebbing Neptune and do fly him

41When he comes back; you demi-puppets that

42By moonshine do the green sour ringlets make,

43Whereof the ewe not bites, and you whose pastime

44Is to make midnight mushrooms, that rejoice

45To hear the solemn curfew; by whose aid,

46Weak masters though ye be, I have bedimm'd

47The noontide sun, call'd forth the mutinous winds,

48And 'twixt the green sea and the azured vault

49Set roaring war: to the dread rattling thunder

50Have I given fire and rifted Jove's stout oak

51With his own bolt; the strong-based promontory

52Have I made shake and by the spurs pluck'd up

53The pine and cedar: graves at my command

54Have waked their sleepers, oped, and let 'em forth

55By my so potent art. But this rough magic

56I here abjure, and, when I have required

57Some heavenly music, which even now I do,

58To work mine end upon their senses that

59This airy charm is for, I'll break my staff,

60Bury it certain fathoms in the earth,

61And deeper than did ever plummet sound

62I'll drown my book.

63A solemn air and the best comforter

64To an unsettled fancy cure thy brains,

65Now useless, boil'd within thy skull! There stand,

66For you are spell-stopp'd.

67Holy Gonzalo, honourable man,

68Mine eyes, even sociable to the show of thine,

69Fall fellowly drops. The charm dissolves apace,

70And as the morning steals upon the night,

71Melting the darkness, so their rising senses

72Begin to chase the ignorant fumes that mantle

73Their clearer reason. O good Gonzalo,

74My true preserver, and a loyal sir

75To him you follow'st! I will pay thy graces

76Home both in word and deed. Most cruelly

77Didst thou, Alonso, use me and my daughter:

78Thy brother was a furtherer in the act.

79Thou art pinch'd fort now, Sebastian. Flesh and blood,

80You, brother mine, that entertain'd ambition,

81Expell'd remorse and nature; who, with Sebastian,

82Whose inward pinches therefore are most strong,

83Would here have kill'd your king; I do forgive thee,

84Unnatural though thou art. Their understanding

85Begins to swell, and the approaching tide

86Will shortly fill the reasonable shore

87That now lies foul and muddy. Not one of them

88That yet looks on me, or would know me Ariel,

89Fetch me the hat and rapier in my cell:

90I will discase me, and myself present

91As I was sometime Milan: quickly, spirit;

92Thou shalt ere long be free.

93Where the bee sucks. there suck I:

94In a cowslip's bell I lie;

95There I couch when owls do cry.

96On the bat's back I do fly

97After summer merrily.

98Merrily, merrily shall I live now

99Under the blossom that hangs on the bough.

100Why, that's my dainty Ariel! I shall miss thee:

101But yet thou shalt have freedom: so, so, so.

102To the king's ship, invisible as thou art:

103There shalt thou find the mariners asleep

104Under the hatches; the master and the boatswain