Boats. Work you, then. Ant. Hang, cur, hang! you whoreson, insolent noise-maker, we are less afraid to be drowned than thou art.
Gon. I'll warrant him from drowning; though the ship were no stronger than a nut-shell, and as leaky as an unstanched wench.
Boats. Lay her a-hold, a-hold: set her two courses off; to sea again, lay her off.
Mar. All lost! to prayers, to prayers! all lost! [Exeunt.
Boats. What, must our mouths be cold? Gon. The king and prince at prayers! let us assist them,
For our case is as theirs.
Seb. I am out of patience.
Ant. We are merely cheated of our lives by drunkards.
This wide-chapped rascal; - 'Would, thou might'st lie drowning,
The washing of ten tides!
Gon. He'll be hanged yet;
Though every drop of water swear against it, And gape at wid'st to glut him.
[A confused noise within.]— Mercy on us! We split, we split! Farewell, my wife and children! Farewell, brother! We split, we split, we split! Ant. Let's all sink with the king. Seb. Let's take leave of him.
Gon. Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea for an acre of barren ground; long heath, brown furze, any thing: The wills above be done! but I would fain die a dry death. [Exit.
The Island: before the Cell of PROSPERO.
Enter PROSPERO and MIRANDA.
Mira. If by your art, my dearest father, you have Put the wild waters in this roar, allay them: The sky, it seems, would pour down stinking pitch, But that the sea, mounting to the welkin's cheek, Dashes the fire out. O, I have suffer'd With those that I saw suffer! a brave vessel, Who had no doubt some noble creatures in her, Dash'd all to pieces. O, the cry did knock Against my very heart! Poor souls! they perish'd. Had I been any god of power, I would Have sunk the sea within the earth, or e'er It should the good ship so have swallowed, and The freighting souls within her.
Pro. Be collected; No more amazement: tell your piteous heart, There's no harm done.
![[blocks in formation]](https://books.google.com.my/books/content?id=UlROAAAAYAAJ&output=html_text&pg=PA2&img=1&zoom=3&hl=en&q=editions:UOM39015082509343&cds=1&sig=ACfU3U0vTcqkYql-Wqi-pTf0x_ZLcVm0kA&edge=0&edge=stretch&ci=107,1170,483,285)
![[blocks in formation]](https://books.google.com.my/books/content?id=UlROAAAAYAAJ&output=html_text&pg=PA2&img=1&zoom=3&hl=en&q=editions:UOM39015082509343&cds=1&sig=ACfU3U0vTcqkYql-Wqi-pTf0x_ZLcVm0kA&edge=0&edge=stretch&ci=525,91,449,506)
And rather like a dream than an assurance That my remembrance warrants: Had I not Four or five women once, that tended me? Pro. Thou hadst, and more, Miranda: But how is it,
That this lives in thy mind? What see'st thou else In the dark backward and abysm of time? If thou remember'st ought, ere thou cam'st here, How thou cam'st here, thou may'st. Mira. But that I do not. Pro. Twelve years since, Miranda, twelve years since,
Thy father was the duke of Milan, and A prince of power.
Sir, are not you my father? Pro. Thy mother was a piece of virtue, and She said thou wast my daughter; and thy fathe Was duke of Milan; and his only heir A princess; no worse issued.
O, the heavens ! What foul play had we, that we came from thence Or blessed was't, we did?
Both, both, my girl; By foul play, as thou say'st, were we heav'd thence; But blessedly holp hither.
O, my heart bleeds To think o' the teen that I have turn'd you tc, Which is from my remembrance! Please you, fur
Pro. My brother, and thy uncle, call'd Antonio,- pray thee, mark me, that a brother should Be so perfidious! -he whom, next thyself, Of all the world I lov'd, and to him put The manage of my state; as, at that time, Through all the signiories it was the first, And Prospero the prime duke; being so reputed In dignity, and, for the liberal arts, Without a parallel: those being all my study, The government I cast upon my brother,
And to my state grew stranger, being transported, And rapt in secret studies. Thy false uncle- Dost thou attend me?
Pro. Being once perfected how to grant suits,
Pro. I thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicate To closeness, and the bettering of my mind With that, which, but by being so retired, O'er-priz'd all popular rate, in my false brother Awak'd an evil nature and my trust, Like a good parent, did beget of him A falsehood, in its contrary as great
As my trust was; which had, indeed, no limit, A confidence sans bound. He being thus lorded, Not only with what my revenue yielded, But what my power might else exact, — like one, Who having, unto truth, by telling of it, Made such a sinner of his memory, To credit his own lie, - he did believe He was the duke; out of the substitution, And executing the outward face of royalty, With all prerogative: - Hence his ambition Growing, Dost hear?
Your tale, sir, would cure deafness. Pro. To have no screen between this part he play'd,
And him he play'd it for, he needs will be Absolute Milan: Me, poor man! - my library Was dukedom large enough; of temporal royalties He thinks me now incapable: confederates (So dry he was for sway) with the king of Naples, To give him annual tribute, do him homage; Subject his coronet to his crown, and bend The dukedom, yet unbow'd, (alas, poor Milan !) To most ignoble stooping.
Pro. Mark his condition, and the event; then tell me,
If this might be a brother.
Mira. To think but nobly of my grandmother: Good wombs have borne bad sons.
Now the condition. This king of Naples, being an enemy To me inveterate, hearkens my brother's suit; Which was, that he in lieu o' the premises,— Of homage, and I know not how much tribute, Should presently extirpate me and mine Out of the dukedom; and confer fair Milan, With all the honours, on my brother: Whereon, A treacherous army levied, one midnight Fated to the purpose, did Antonio open
The gates of Milan; and, i' the dead of darkness, The ministers for the purpose hurried thence Me, and thy crying self.
I, not rememb'ring how I cry'd out then,
Will cry it o'er again: it is a hint,
That wrings mine eyes.
And then I'll bring thee to the present business
Which now's upon us; without the which, this story Were most impertinent.
Mira. That hour destroy us' Pro.
Well demanded, wench; Dear, they durst
My tale provokes that question. not;
(So dear the love my people bore me) nor set A mark so bloody on the business; but With colours fairer painted their foul ends. In few, they hurried us aboard a bark; Bore us some leagues to sea; where they prepar'd A rotten carcase of a boat, not rigg'd, Nor tackle, sail, nor mast; the very rats Instinctively had quit it: there they hoist us, To cry to the sea that roar'd to us; to sigh To the winds, whose pity, sighing back again, Did us but loving wrong.
![[blocks in formation]](https://books.google.com.my/books/content?id=UlROAAAAYAAJ&output=html_text&pg=PA3&img=1&zoom=3&hl=en&q=editions:UOM39015082509343&cds=1&sig=ACfU3U0meb9fEa55BhyvHECyPG1B6RERYA&edge=0&edge=stretch&ci=468,413,461,475)
Sit still, and hear the last of our sea-sorrow. Here in this island we arrived; and here Have I, thy school-master, made thee more profit Than other princes can, that have more time For vainer hours, and tutors not so careful. Mira. Heavens thank you for't! And now, I pray you, sir,
(For still 'tis beating in my mind,) your reason For raising this sea-storm?
Pro. Know thus far forth... By accident most strange, bountiful fortune, Now my dear lady, hath mine enemies Brought to this shore: and by my prescience I find my zenith doth depend upon
A most auspicious star; whose influence If now I court not, but omit, my fortunes Will ever after droop. Here cease more questions, Thou art inclin'd to sleep; 'tis a good dulness, And give it way;-I know thou can'st not choose. [MIRANDA Sleep Come away, servant, come: I am ready now; Approach, my Ariel; come.
Of sulphurous roaring, the most mighty Neptune Seem'd to besiege, and make his bold waves tremble, Yea, his dread trident shake.
Pro. My brave spirit! Who was so firm, so constant, that this coil Would not infect his reason?
Ari. Not a soul But felt a fever of the mad, and play'd Some tricks of desperation: All, but mariners, Plung'd in the foaming brine, and quit the vessel, Then all a-fire with me: the king's son, Ferdinand, With hair up-staring (then like reeds, not hair,) Was the first man that leap'd; cried, Hell is empty, And all the devils are here.
![[blocks in formation]](https://books.google.com.my/books/content?id=UlROAAAAYAAJ&output=html_text&pg=PA4&img=1&zoom=3&hl=en&q=editions:UOM39015082509343&cds=1&sig=ACfU3U2tkv8xHYXTt9xkKws4oCVwQAbyjw&edge=0&edge=stretch&ci=111,612,482,56)
Pro. But are they, Ariel, safe? Ari.
Not a hair perish'd; On their sustaining garments not a blemish, But fresher than before: and, as thou bad'st me, In troops I have dispers'd them 'bout the isle : The king's son have I landed by himself; Whom I left cooling of the air with sighs, In an odd angle of the isle, and sitting, His arms in this sad knot. Pro. Of the king's ship The mariners, say, how thou hast dispos'd, And all the rest o' the fleet?
Is the king's ship; in the deep nook, where once Thou call'dst me up at midnight to fetch dew From the still-vex'd Bermoothes, there she's hid: The mariners all under hatches stow'd; Whom, with a charm join'd to their suffer'd labour, I have left asleep and for the rest o' the fleet, Which I dispers'd, they all have met again; And are upon the Mediterranean flote, Bound sadly home for Naples ;
Supposing that they saw the king's ship wreck'd, And his great person perish.
Ariel, thy charge Exactly is perform'd; but there's more work : What is the time o' the day?
Pro. At least two glasses: The time 'twixt six
Must by us both be spent most preciously.
Pro. Thou dost; and think'st It much to tread the ooze of the salt deep; To run upon the sharp wind of the north; To do me business in the veins o' the earth, When it is bak'd with frost
The foul witch Sycorax, who, with age and envy, Was grown into a hoop? hast thou forgot her?
Thou hast: Where was she born? speak; tell me.
Once in a month, recount what thou hast been, Which thou forget'st. This damn'd witch, Sycorax, For mischiefs manifold, and sorceries terrible To enter human hearing, from Argier,
Thou know'st, was banish'd; for one thing she did, They would not take her life: Is not this true? Ari. Ay, sir.
Pro. This blue-ey'd hag was hither brought with child,
And here was left by the sailors: Thou, my slave, As thou report'st thyself, wast then her servant : And, for thou wast a spirit too delicate To act her earthy and abhorr'd commands, Refusing her grand hests, she did confine thee, By help of her more potent ministers, And in her most unmitigable rage, Into a cloven pine; within which rift Imprison'd, thou did'st painfully remain A dozen years; within which space she died, And left thee there; where thou did'st vent thy
As fast as mill-wheels strike: Then was this island. (Save for the son that she did litter here,
A freckled whelp, hag-born,) not honour'd with A human shape.
Yes; Caliban her son. Pro. Dull thing, I say so; he, that Caliban, Whom now I keep in service. Thou best know'st What torment I did find thee in: thy groans Did make wolves howl, and penetrate the breasts Of ever-angry bears; it was a torment To lay upon the damn'd, which Sycorax Could not again undo; it was mine art, When I arriv'd, and heard thee, that made gape The pine, and let thee out.
Ari. I thank thee, master. Pro. If thou more murmur'st, I will rend an oak, And peg thee in his knotty entrails, till
Ari. Is there more toil? Since thou dost give Thou hast howl'd away twelve winters. me pains,
Let me remember thee what thou hast promis'd, Which is not yet perform'd me.
Re-enter ARIEL invisible, playing and singing; FERDINAND following him. ARIEL'S Song.
Come unto these yellow sands,
And then take hands:
Court'sied when you have, and kiss'd,
(The wild waves whist,)
Foot it featly here and there;
And, sweet sprites, the burden bear. Hark, hark!
Bur. Bowgh, wowgh.
The watch-dogs bark:
Bur. Bowgh, wowgh.
Hark, hark! I hear
The strain of strutting chanticlere Cry, Cock-a-doodle-doo.
This is no mortal business, nor no sound
That the earth owes: - - I hear it now above me. Pro. The fringed curtains of thine eye advance And say, what thou seest yond'.
Mira. What is't? a spirit? Lord, how it looks about! Believe me, sir, It carries a brave form: - But 'tis a spirit. Pro. No, wench; it eats and sleeps, and hath such senses
As we have, such: This gallant, which thou seest, Was in the wreck; and but he's something stain'd With grief, that's beauty's canker, thou might'st call him
A goodly person: he hath lost his fellows, And strays about to find them.
Mira. I might call him A thing divine; for nothing natural I ever saw so noble.
What wert thou, if the king of Naples heard thee? Fer. A single thing, as I am now, that wonders To hear thee speak of Naples: He does hear me; And, that he does, I weep: myself am Naples; Who with mine eyes, ne'er since at ebb, beheld The king my father wreck'd.
Mira. Alack, for mercy! Fer. Yes, faith, and all his Lords; the duke of Milan,
and his brave son, being twain. Pro. The duke of Milan, And his more braver daughter, could control thee, If now 'twere fit to do't: - At the first sight [Aside. They have chang'd eyes: Delicate Ariel, I'll set thee free for this! A word, good sir; I fear you have done yourself some wrong: a word. Mira. Why speaks my father so ungently? This Is the third man that e'er I saw; the first That e'er I sigh'd for: pity move my father To be inclin'd my way!
And your affection not gone forth, I'll make you The queen of Naples.
Pro. Soft, sir; one word more. They are both in either's powers; but this swift
I must uneasy make, lest too light winning [Aside. Make the prize light. - One word more; I charge
That thou attend me: thou dost here usurp The name thou ow'st not; and hast put thyself
Make not too rash a trial of him, for He's gentle, and not fearful.
say, My foot my tutor! Put thy sword up, traitor; Who mak'st a shew, but dar'st not strike, thy cou science
Is so possess'd with guilt: come from thy ward; For I can here disarm thee with this stick, And make thy weapon drop.
Pro. Hence; hang not on my garments. Mira.
Come on; obey: [To FERD Thy nerves are in their infancy again, And have no vigour in them. Fer. So they are: My spirits, as in a dream, are all bound up. My father's loss, the weakness which I feel, The wreck of all my friends, or this man's threats, To whom I am subdued, are but light to me, Might I but through my prison once a day Behold this maid: all corners else o' the earth Let liberty make use of; space enough Have I in such a prison.
« PreviousContinue » |