He thinks me now incapable. Confederates
(So dry he was for sway) with 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.
Mir. Oh, the heavens !
THE TEMPEST 215
Pros. Mark his condition, and the event; then tell
If this might be a brother.
Mir. I should sin
To think but nobly of my grandmother.
Good wombs have borne bad sons.
Pros. 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 â€”
Of homage, and I know not how much tribute â€”
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
â€¢ The gates of Milan ; and, i' the dead of darkness,
The ministers for the purpose hurried thence
Me and thy crying self.
Mir. Alack, for pity !
I, not rememb'ring how I cried out then.
Will cry it o'er again ; it is a hint
That wrings mine eyes to't.
Pros. Hear a little further.
And then I'll bring thee to the present business
Which now's upon us ; without the which this story
Were most impertinent.
Mir. Wherefore did they not
That hour destroy us.?
Pros. Well demanded, wench ;
My tale provokes that question. Dear, they durst 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 prepared
A rotten carcass 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
2i5 COMEDIES OF SHAKESPEARE
To the winds, whose pity, sighing back again,
Did us but loving wronor.
Mir. Alack ! what trouble
Was I then to you ?
Pros. Oh ! a cherubim
Thou wast, that did preserve me ! Thou didst smile,
Infuse with a fortitude from heaven,
When I have deck'd the sea with drops full salt.
Under my burden groan'd, which raised in me
An undergoing stomach, to bear up
Against what should ensue.
Mir. How came we ashore ?
Pros. By Providence divine.
Some food we had, and some fresh water, that
A noble Neapolitan, Gonzalo,
Out of his charity (who being then appointed
Master of this design) did give us, with
Rich garments, linens, stuffs, and necessaries.
Which since have steaded much; so, of his gentleness,
Knowing I loved my books, he furnish'd me
From my own library with volumes that
I prize above my dukedom.
Mir. Would I might
But ever see that man !
Pros. Now I arise.
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 princesses can that have more time
For vainer hours, and tutors not so careful.
Mir. Heaven thank you for't ! And now I pray you,
(For still 'tis beating in my mind), your reason
For raising this sea-storm t
Pros. 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
â€¢WHERE SHOULD THIS MUSIC BE?'
The Tempest, act i. , scene ii.
THE TEMPEST 217
If now I court not, but omit, my fortunes
Will ever after droop. Here cease more questions;
Thou art inclined to sleep ; 'tis a good dulness,
And give it way. I know thou canst not choose.
Come away, servant, come. I am ready now ;
Approach, my Ariel ; come.
Ariel. All hail, great master ! grave sir, hail ! I
To answer thy best pleasure ; be't to fly,
To swim, to dive into the fire, to ride
On the curl'd clouds : to thy strong bidding, task
Ariel and all his quality.
Pros. Hast thou, spirit,
Perform'd to point the tempest that I bade thee t
Ariel. To every article.
I boarded the king's ship ; now on the beak,
Now in the waist, the deck, in every cabin,
I flamed amazement. Sometimes I'd divide.
And burn in many places ; on the top-mast,
The yards, and bowsprit would I flame distinctly,
Then meet and join. Jove's lightnings, the precursors
O' the dreadful thunder-claps, more momentary
And sight out-running were not ; the fire, and cracks
Of sulphurous roaring, the most mighty Neptune
Seem'd to besiege, and make his bold waves tremble ;
Yea, his dread trident shake.
Pros. My brave spirit !
Who was so firm, so constant, that this coil
W^ould not infect his reason ?
Ariel. Not a soul
But felt a fever of the mad, and play'd
Some tricks of desperation. All but mariners
Plunged 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 emptyy
And all the devils are here.
2i8 COMEDIES OF SHAKESPEARE
Pros. Why, that's my spirit !
But was not this nigh shore ?
Ariel. Close by, my master.
Pros. But are they, Ariel, safe ?
Ariel. 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 vi^ith sighs,
In an odd angle of the isle, and sitting.
His arms in this sad knot.
Pros. Of the king's ship,
The mariners, say how thou hast dispos'd.
And all the rest o' the fleet.
Ariel. Safely in harbour
Is the king's ship ; in the deep nook where once
Thou call'st 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 dispersed, they all have met again.
And are upon the Mediterranean fiote,
Bound sadly home for Naples,
Supposing that they saw the king's ship wreck'd
And his great person perish.
Pros. Ariel, thy charge
Exactly is performed ; but there's more work.
What is the time o' the day .?
Ariel. Past the mid season.
Pros. At least two glasses: the time 'twixt six and
Must by us both be spent most preciously.
Ariel. Is there more toil } since thou dost give me
Let me remember thee what thou hast promis'd.
Which is not yet perform'd me.
Pros. How now .? moody ?
What is't thou canst demand "i
THE TEMPEST 219
Ariel. My liberty.
Pros. Before the time be out ? no more.
Ariel. I prithee
Remember, I have done thee worthy service ;
Told thee no lies, made thee no mistakings, served
Without or grudge or grumblings ; thou did promise
To bate me a full year.
Pros. Dost thou forget
From what a torment I did free thee }
Pros. Thou dost ; and think'st it much to tread the
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.
Ariel. I do not, sir.
Pros. Thou liest, malignant thing ! Hast thou forgot
The foul witch, Sycorax, who, with age and envy
Was grown into a hoop ? hast thou forgot her ?
Ariel. No, sir.
Pros. Thou hast : where was she born ? speak ; tell
Ariel. Sir, in Argier.
Pros. Oh, was she so } I must
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 ?
Ariel. Ay, sir.
Pros, This blue-eyed hag was hither brought with
And here was left by th' sailors. Thou, my slave.
As thou report'st thyself, was then her servant ;
And, for thou wast a spirit too delicate
To act her earthy and abhorr'd commands,
Refusing her grand bests, she did confine thee,
By help of her more potent ministers,
2 20 COMEDIES OF SHAKESPEARE
And in her most unmitigable rage,
Into a cloven pine ; within which rift
Imprison'd, thou didst painfully remain
A dozen years; within which space she died,
And left thee there, where thou didst vent thy groans
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.
Ariel. Yes ; Caliban, her son.
Pros. 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 arrived and heard thee, that made gape
The pine, and let thee out.
Ariel. I thank thee, master.
Pros. If thou more murmur'st, I will rend an oak
And peg thee in its knotty entrails till
Thou hast howl'd away twelve winters.
Ariel. Pardon, master.
I will be correspondent to command,
And do my sprighting gently.
Pros. Do so ; and after two days
I will discharge thee.
Ariel That's my noble master !
What shall I do.? say what? what shall I do?
Pros. Go, make thyself like a nymph o' the sea ;
Be subject to no sight but thine and mine; invisible
To every eyeball else. Go, take this shape,
And hither come in't; go hence
With diligence. \Exit Ariel.
Awake, dear heart, awake ! thou hast slept well ;
Mira. The strangeness of your story put
Heaviness in me.
Pros. Shake it off. Come on ;
THE TEMPEST 221
We'll visit Caliban, my slave, who never
Yields us kind answer.
Mir. 'Tis a villain, sir,
I do not love to look on.
Pros. But, as 'tis,
We cannot miss him ; he does make our fire.
Fetch in our wood, and serves in offices
That profit us. What ho! slave! Caliban !
Thou earth, thou ! speak.
Cal. \within\. There's wood enough within.
Pros. Come forth, I say , there's other business for
Come, thou tortoise ! when ?
Enter Ariel, like a water-nymph.
Fine apparition ! My quaint Ariel,
Hark in thine ear.
Ariel. My lord, it shall be done. \Exit.
Pros. Thou poisonous slave, got by the devil himself
Upon thy wicked dam, come forth I
Cal. As wicked dew as e'er my mother brush'd
With raven's feather from unwholesome fen
Drop on you both ! a southwest blow on ye,
And blister you all o'er !
Pros. For this, be sure, to-night thou shalt have
Side-stitches that shall pen thy breath up ; urchins
Shall for that vast of night that they may work
All exercise on thee. Thou shalt be pinch'd
As thick as honey-comb, each pinch more stinging
Than bees that made 'em.
Cal. I must eat my dinner.
This island's mine, by Sycorax my mother.
Which thou tak'st from me. When thou cam'st first,
Thou stroked'st me, and made much of me; wouldst
22 2 COMEDIES OF SHAKESPEARE
Water with berries in't ; and teach me how
To name the bigger Hght, and how the less,
That burn by day and night. And then I loved thee,
And show'd thee all the qualities o' the isle,
The fresh springs, brine pits, barren place, and fertile ;
Cursed be I that did so ! All the charms
Of Sycorax, toads, beetles, bats, light on you !
For I am all the subjects that you have.
Which first was mine own king ; and here you sty me
In this hard rock, whiles you do keep from me
The rest o' th' island.
Pros, Thou most lying slave,
Whom stripes may move, not kindness ; I have used thee.
Filth as thou art, with human care ; and lodged thee
In mine own cell till thou didst seek to violate
The honour of my child.
Cal. Oho, oho ! â€” would it had been done. Â«
Thou didst prevent me ; I had peopled else
This isle with Calibans.
Mir. Abhorred slave,
Which any print of goodness wilt not take,
Being capable of all ill, I pitied thee,
Took pains to make thee speak, taught thee each hour
One thing or other; when thou didst not, savage;
Know thine own meaning, but wouldst gabble like
A thing most brutish, I endow'd thy purposes
With words that made them known. But thy vile race,
Though thou didst learn, had that in't which good
Could not abide to be with ; therefore wast thou
Deservedly confined into this rock, who hadst
Deserved more than a prison.
Cal. You taught me language ; and my profit on't
Is, I know how to curse. The red plague rid you
For learning me your language !
Pros. Hag-seed, hence !
Fetch us in fuel ; and be quick, thou wert best
To answer other business. Shrug'st thou, malice t
If thou neglect'st, or dost unwillingly
What I command, I'll rack thee with old cramps;
THE TEMPEST 223
Fill all thy bones with aches ; make thee roar,
That beasts shall tremble at thy din !
Cal. No, pray thee. â€”
I must obey ; his art is of such power
It would control my dam's god, Setebos,
And make a vassal of him.
Pros. So, slave, hence !
Enter Ferdinand and Ariel, invisible, playing and
Come unto these yellow sands.
And then take hands ;
Court'sz'ed when you have, and kt'ss'd,
( The wild waves wht'st).
Foot it featly here and there ;
And, sweet sprites, the burden bear.
Bowgh, wowgh, the watch-dogs bark: [Burden dis-
Bowgh, wowgh. persedly.
Hark, hark! I hear
The strain of strutting chanticleer
Fer. Where should this music be ? i' th' air or th'
It sounds no more, and sure it waits upon
Some god o' th' island. Sitting on a bank.
Weeping again the king my father's wreck,
This music crept by me upon the waters,
Allaying both their fury and my passion
With its sweet air. Thence I have follow'd it,
Or it hath drawn me rather. But 'tis gone.
No, it begins again.
Full fathom five your father lies :
Of his bones are coral made.
Those are pearls that were his eyes :
Nothing of him that doth fade.
2 24 COMEDIES OF SHAKESPEARE
But doth suffer a sea-change
Ifito something rich and strange.
Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell :
Hark! now I hear them â€” ditig-dong, bell.
Fer. The ditty does remember my drown'd father.
This is no mortal business, nor no sound
That the earth owes. I hear it now above me.
Pros. The fringed curtains of thine eye advance,
And say what thou seest yond'.
Mir. What is't .? a spirit .?
Lord, how it looks about ! Believe me, sir,
It carries a brave form. But 'tis a spirit.
Pros. No, wench ; it eats and sleeps and hath such
As we have â€” such. This gallant which thou seest
Was in the wreck ; and but he's something stain'd
With grief, that beauty's canker, thou might'st call
A goodly person. He hath lost his fellows.
And strays about to find 'em.
Mir. I might call him
A thing divine ; for nothing natural
I ever saw so noble.
Pros. It goes on, I see.
As my soul prompts it. Spirit, fine spirit! I'll free
Within two days for this.
Fer. Most sure, the goddess
On whom these airs attend. â€” Vouchsafe my prayer
May know if you remain upon this island ;
And that you will some good instruction give
How I may bear me here ; my prime request,
Which I do last pronounce, is. Oh, you wonder,
If you be maid or no '^.
Mir. No wonder, sir ;
But, certainly, a maid.
Fer. My language ? heavens !
I am the best of them that speak this speech,
Were I but where 'tis spoken.
THE TEMPEST 225
Pros. How ! the best ?
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.
Mir. Alack, for mercy !
Fer. Yes, faith, and all his lords ; the Duke of Milan
And his brave son being twain.
Pros. The Duke of Milan
And his more braver daughter could control thee
If now 'twere fit to do't. At the first sight
They have changed eyes. Delicate Ariel,
I'll set thee free for this ! A word, good sir ;
I fear you have done yourself some wrong â€” a word.
Mir. Why speaks my father so ungently .'* This
Is the third man that e'er I saw ; the first
That e'er I sighed for. Pity move my father
To be inclined my way !
Fer. Oh, if a virgin.
And your affection not gone forth, I'll make you
The Queen of Naples.
Pros. Soft, sir ; one word more.
They are both in cither's powers. But this swift busi-
I must uneasy make, lest too light winning
Make the prize light. One word more : I charge thee
That thou attend me. Thou dost here usurp
The name thou ow'st not ; and hast put thyself
Upon this island as a spy to win it
From me, the lord on't.
Fer. No, as I am a man.
Mir. There's nothing ill can dwell in such a tem-
If the ill spirit have so fair a house,
Good things will strive to dwell with't.
Pros. Follow me.
Speak not you for him ; he's a traitor. â€” Come,
I'll manacle thy neck and feet together;
226 COMEDIES OF SHAKESPEARE
Sea-water shalt thou drink ; thy food shall be
The fresh-brook mussels, wither'd roots, and husks
Wherein the acorn cradled. Follow.
Fer. No ;
I will resist such entertainment till
Mine enemy has more power.
\He draws, and is charmed from moving.
Mir. Oh, dear father.
Make not too rash a trial of him, for
He's gentle, and not fearful.
Pros. What, I say !
My foot my tutor t Put thy sword up, traitor.
Who mak'st a show, but dar'st not strike, thy con-
Is so possess'd with guilt. Come from thy ward.
For I can here disarm thee with this stick.
And make thy weapon drop.
Mir. Beseech you, father !
Pros. Hence ; hang not on my garments.
Mir. Sir, have pity ;
I'll be his surety.
Pros. Silence ; one word more
Shall make me chide thee, if not hate thee. What !
An advocate for an impostor.? Hush !
Thou think'st there are no more such shapes as he.
Having seen but him and Caliban. Foolish wench !
To the most of men this is a Caliban,
And they to him are angels.
Mir. My affections
Are then most humble. I have no ambition
To see a goodlier man.
Pros. Come on ; obey.
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
THE TEMPEST 227
Behold this maid. All corners else o' th' earth
Let liberty make use of ; space enough
Have I in such a prison.
Pros. It works. â€” Come on. â€”
Thou hast done well, fine Ariel ! â€” Follow me. â€”
Hark, what thou else shalt do me.
Mir. Be of comfort ;
My father's of a better nature, sir.
Than he appears by speech ; this is unwonted,
Which now came from him.
Pros. Thou shalt be as free
As mountain winds ; but then exactly do
All points of my command.
Ariel. To th' syllable.
Pros. Come, follow : speak not for him. \_Exeunt.
Scene I. â€” Enter Ahonzo, Sebastian, Antonio, Gon-
ZALO, Adrian, Francisco, and others.
Gon. Beseech you, sir, be merry ; you have cause
(So have we all) of joy ; for our escape
Is much beyond our loss. Our hint of woe
Is common ; every day some sailor's wife.
The masters of some merchant, and the merchant,
Have just our theme of woe. But for the miracle,
I mean our preservation, few in millions
Can speak like us. Then wisely, good sir, weigh
Our sorrow with our comfort.
Alon. Prithee, peace.
Seb. He receives comfort like cold porridge.
Ant. The visitor will not give him o'er so.
Seb. Look, he's winding up the watch of his wit ; by-
and-by it will strike.
Seb. Oneâ€” tell.
Gon. When every grief is entertain'd
That's offer'd, comes to the entertainer â€”
228 COMEDIES OF SHAKESPEARE
Seb. A dollar.
Gon. Dolour comes to him, indeed ; you have spoken
truer than you purposed.
Seb. You have taken it wiselier than I meant you
Gon. Therefore, my lord â€”
Ant. Fie, what a spendthrift is he of his tongue !
Alon. I prithee, spare.
Gon. Well, I have done. But yet â€”
Seb. He will be talking.
Ant. Which, of he or Adrian, for a good wager, first
begins to crow.^*
Seb. The old cock.
Ant. The cockerel.
Seb. Done ! The wager .?
Ant. A laughter.
Seb. A match.
Adv. Though this island seem to be desert.
Seb. Ha, ha, ha !
Ant. So you're pay'd.
Adr. Uninhabitable, and almost inaccessible.
Ant. He could not miss it.
Adr. It must needs be of subtle, tender, and delicate
Ant. Temperance was a delicate wench.
Seb. Ay, and a subtle, as he most learnedly deliver'd.
Adr. The air breathes upon us here most sweetly.
Seb. As if it had lungs, and rotten ones.
Ant. Or, as 'twere perfumed by a fen.
Gon. Here is ever^'thing advantageous to life.
Ant. True, save means to live.
Seb. Of that there's none, or little.
Gon. How lush and lusty the grass looks ! How
Ant. The ground, indeed, is tawny.
Seb. With an eye of green in't.
Ant. He misses not much.
Seb. No; he doth but mistake the truth totally.
THE TEMPEST 229
Gon. But the rarity of it is, which is indeed almost
beyond credit â€”
Seb. As many vouch'd rarities are.
Gon. That our garments, being as they were, drench-
ed in the sea, hold, notwithstanding, their freshness and
glosses, being rather new dyed than stain'd with salt
Ant. If but one of his pockets could speak, would it
not say he lies 1
Seb. Ay, or very falsely pocket up his report.
Go7t. Methinks our garments are now as fresh as
when we put them on first in Africa, at the marriage
of the king's fair daughter Claribel to the King of
Seb. 'Twas a sweet marriage, and we prosper well in
Adr. Tunis was never graced before with such a
paragon to their queen.
Gon. Not since Widow Dido's time.
Ant. Widow } a pox o' that ! How came that widow
in .'' Widow Dido !
Seb. What if he had said Widower y^neas too ?
Good Lord, how you take it !
Adr. Widow Dido, said you } You make me study
of that. She was of Carthage, not of Tunis.
Gon. This Tunis, sir, was Carthage.
Adr. Carthage .f*
Gon. I assure you, Carthage.
Ant. His word is more than the miraculous harp.
Seb. He hath raised the wall, and houses too.
Ant. What impossible matter will he make easy next?
Seb. I think he will carry this island home in his
pocket, and give it his son for an apple.
Ant. And sowing the kernels of it in the sea, bring
forth more islands.
Go7i. Ay .''
Ant. Why, in good time.
Go7t. Sir, we were talking that our garments seem
now as fresh as when we were at Tunis at the marriage
of your daughter, who is now queen.
230 COMEDIES OF SHAKESPEARE
Ant. And the rarest that e'er came there.
Seb. 'Bate, I beseech you, Widow Dido.
Ant. Oh, Widow Dido ; ay, Widow Dido.
Gon. Is not, sir, my doublet as fresh as the first
I wore it ? I mean, in a sort.
Ant. That sort was well fish'd for.
Gon. When I wore it at your daughter's marriage .?
Alon. You cram these words into mine ears against
The stomach of my sense. Would I had never
Married my daughter there ! for, coming thence
My son is lost ; and, in my rate, she too,
Who is so far from Italy removed,
I ne'er again shall see her. Oh, thou, mine heir
Of Naples and of Milan, what strange fish
Hath made his meal on thee !
Fran. Sir, he may live.
I saw him beat the surges under him.
And ride upon their backs. He trod the water
Whose enmity he flung aside, and breasted
The surge most swollen that met him. His bold
'Bove the contentious waves he kept, and oared
Himself with his good arms in lusty stroke
To th' shore, that o'er his wave-worn basis bowed,
As stooping to relieve him. I not doubt
He came alive to land.
Alon. No, no, he's gone.
Seb. Sir, you may thank yourself for this great loss.
That would not bless our Europe with your daughter.
But rather lose her to an African ;
Where she, at least, is banish'd from your eye.
Who hath cause to wet the grief on't.
Alon. Prithee, peace.
Seb. You were kneel'd to, and importuned otherwise
By all of us ; and the fair soul herself
Weigh'd between loathness and obedience, at
Which end o' th' beam should bow. We have lost your
I fear, forever ; Milan and Naples have
THE TEMPEST 231
More widows in them of this business making
Than we bring men to comfort them.
The fault's your own.
A Ion. So is the dearest o' th' loss.
Gon. My Lord Sebastian,
The truth you speak doth lack some gentleness,
And time to speak it in. You rub the sore,
When you should bring the plaster.