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General Notes are in their original location at the end of the play.Text-critical notes are grouped at the end of each Scene. All linenumbers are from the original text; line breaks in dialogue--includingprose passages--are unchanged. Brackets are also unchanged; to avoidambiguity, footnotes and linenotes are given without added brackets.In the notes, numerals printed as subscripts are shown inline asF1, F2, Q1....
THE WORKS
of
WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE
Edited by
WILLIAM GEORGE CLARK, M.A.Fellow and Tutor of Trinity College, and Public Oratorin the University of Cambridge;
and JOHN GLOVER, M.A.Librarian Of Trinity College, Cambridge.
_VOLUME I._
Cambridge and London:MACMILLAN AND CO.1863.
THE TEMPEST.
DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.
ALONSO, King of Naples.SEBASTIAN, his brother.PROSPERO, the right Duke of Milan.ANTONIO, his brother, the usurping Duke of Milan.FERDINAND, son to the King of Naples.GONZALO, an honest old Counsellor.ADRIAN, LordFRANCISCO, „CALIBAN, a savage and deformed Slave.TRINCULO, a Jester.STEPHANO, a drunken Butler.Master of a Ship.Boatswain.Mariners.
MIRANDA, daughter to Prospero.
ARIEL, an airy Spirit.IRIS, presented by Spirits.CERES, „ „JUNO, „ „Nymphs, „ „Reapers, „ „
Other Spirits attending on Prospero.
SCENE--_A ship at sea: an uninhabited island._
Footnotes:
1: DRAMATIS PERSONÆ] NAMES OF THE ACTORS F1 at the end of the Play.2: _presented by_] Edd.3: _Other ... Prospero_] Theobald.4: A ship at sea:] At sea: Capell.]
THE TEMPEST.
ACT I.
SCENE I. _On a ship at sea: a tempestuous noise of thunderand lightning heard._
_Enter _a Ship-Master_ and _a Boatswain_._
_Mast._ Boatswain!
_Boats._ Here, master: what cheer?
_Mast._ Good, speak to the mariners: fall to’t, yarely, orwe run ourselves aground: bestir, bestir. [_Exit._
_Enter _Mariners_._
_Boats._ Heigh, my hearts! cheerly, cheerly, my hearts! 5yare, yare! Take in the topsail. Tend to the master’swhistle. Blow, till thou burst thy wind, if room enough!
_Enter ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, FERDINAND, GONZALO,and others._
_Alon._ Good boatswain, have care. Where’s the master?Play the men.
_Boats._ I pray now, keep below. 10
_Ant._ Where is the master, boatswain?
_Boats._ Do you not hear him? You mar our labour:keep your cabins: you do assist the storm.
_Gon._ Nay, good, be patient.
_Boats._ When the sea is. Hence! What cares these 15roarers for the name of king? To cabin: silence! troubleus not.
_Gon._ Good, yet remember whom thou hast aboard.
_Boats._ None that I more love than myself. You are aCounsellor; if you can command these elements to silence, 20and work the peace of the present, we will not hand a ropemore; use your authority: if you cannot, give thanks youhave lived so long, and make yourself ready in your cabinfor the mischance of the hour, if it so hap. Cheerly, goodhearts! Out of our way, I say. [_Exit._ 25
_Gon._ I have great comfort from this fellow: methinkshe hath no drowning mark upon him; his complexion isperfect gallows. Stand fast, good Fate, to his hanging:make the rope of his destiny our cable, for our own dothlittle advantage. If he be not born to be hanged, our case 30is miserable. [_Exeunt._
_Re-enter Boatswain._
_Boats._ Down with the topmast! yare! lower, lower!Bring her to try with main-course. [_A cry within._] Aplague upon this howling! they are louder than the weatheror our office. 35
_Re-enter SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, and GONZALO._
Yet again! what do you here? Shall we give o’er, anddrown? Have you a mind to sink?
_Seb._ A pox o’ your throat, you bawling, blasphemous,incharitable dog!
_Boats._ Work you, then. 40
_Ant._ Hang, cur! hang, you whoreson, insolent noise-maker.We are less afraid to be drowned than thou art.
_Gon._ I’ll warrant him for drowning; though the shipwere no stronger than a nutshell, and as leaky as an unstanchedwench. 45
_Boats._ Lay her a-hold, a-hold! set her two courses offto sea again; lay her off.
_Enter _Mariners_ wet._
_Mariners._ All lost! to prayers, to prayers! all lost!
_Boats._ What, must our mouths be cold?
_Gon._ The king and prince at prayers! let’s assist them, 50For our case is as theirs.
_Seb._ I’m out of patience.
_Ant._ We are merely cheated of our lives by drunkards:This wide-chapp’d rascal,--would thou mightst lie drowningThe washing of ten tides!
_Gon._ He’ll be hang’d yet,Though every drop of water swear against it, 55And gape at widest 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. 60
_Seb._ Let’s take leave of him. [_Exeunt Ant. and Seb._
_Gon._ Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea foran acre of barren ground, long heath, brown furze, anything. The wills above be done! but I would fain die adry death. [_Exeunt._ 65
Notes: I, 1.
SC. I. On a ship at sea] Pope.Enter ... Boatswain] Collier MS. adds ‘shaking off wet.’3: _Good,_] Rowe. _Good:_ Ff. _Good._ Collier.7: _till thou burst thy wind_] _till thou burst, wind_ Johnson conj._till thou burst thee, wind_ Steevens conj.8: Capell adds stage direction [Exeunt Mariners aloft.11: _boatswain_] Pope. _boson_ Ff.11-18: Verse. S. Walker conj.15: _cares_] _care_ Rowe. See note (I).31: [Exeunt] Theobald. [Exit. Ff.33: _Bring her to try_] F4. _Bring her to Try_ F1 F2 F3._Bring her to. Try_ Story conj.33-35: Text as in Capell. _A plague_--A cry within. Enter Sebastian,Anthonio, and Gonzalo. _upon this howling._ Ff.34-37: Verse. S. Walker conj.43: _for_] _from_ Theobald.46: _two courses off to sea_] _two courses; off to sea_ Steevens(Holt conj.).46: [Enter...] [Re-enter... Dyce.47: [Exeunt. Theobald.50: _at_] _are at_ Rowe.50-54: Printed as prose in Ff.56: _to glut_] _t’ englut_ Johnson conj.57: See note (II).59: _Farewell, brother!_] _Brother, farewell!_ Theobald.60: _with the_] Rowe. _with’_ F1 F2. _with_ F3 F4.61: [Exeunt A. and S.] [Exit. Ff.63: _furze_ Rowe. _firrs_ F1 F2 F3. _firs_ F4._long heath, brown furze_] _ling, heath, broom, furze_ Hanmer.]65: [Exeunt] [Exit F1, om. F2 F3 F4.]
SCENE II. _The island. Before PROSPERO’S cell._
_Enter PROSPERO and MIRANDA._
_Mir._ If by your art, my dearest father, you havePut 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 5With those that I saw suffer! a brave vessel,Who had, no doubt, some noble creature in her,Dash’d all to pieces. O, the cry did knockAgainst my very heart! Poor souls, they perish’d!Had I been any god of power, I would 10Have sunk the sea within the earth, or ereIt should the good ship so have swallow’d andThe fraughting souls within her.
_Pros._ Be collected:No more amazement: tell your piteous heartThere’s no harm done.
_Mir._ O, woe the day!
_Pros._ No harm. 15I have done nothing but in care of thee,Of thee, my dear one, thee, my daughter, whoArt ignorant of what thou art, nought knowingOf whence I am, nor that I am more betterThan Prospero, master of a full poor cell, 20And thy no greater father.
_Mir._ More to knowDid never meddle with my thoughts.
_Pros._ ’Tis timeI should inform thee farther. Lend thy hand,And pluck my magic garment from me. --So:[_Lays down his mantle._Lie there, my art. Wipe thou thine eyes; have comfort. 25The direful spectacle of the wreck, which touch’dThe very virtue of compassion in thee,I have with such provision in mine artSo safely order’d, that there is no soul,No, not so much perdition as an hair 30Betid to any creature in the vesselWhich thou heard’st cry, which thou saw’st sink. Sit down;For thou must now know farther.
_Mir._ You have oftenBegun to tell me what I am; but stopp’d,And left me to a bootless inquisition, 35Concluding “Stay: not yet.”
_Pros._ The hour’s now come;The very minute bids thee ope thine ear;Obey, and be attentive. Canst thou rememberA time before we came unto this cell?I do not think thou canst, for then thou wast not 40Out three years old.
_Mir._ Certainly, sir, I can.
_Pros._ By what? by any other house or person?Of any thing the image tell me thatHath kept with thy remembrance.
_Mir._ ’Tis far off,And rather like a dream than an assurance 45That my remembrance warrants. Had I notFour or five women once that tended me?
_Pros._ Thou hadst, and more, Miranda. But how is itThat this lives in thy mind? What seest thou elseIn the dark backward and abysm of time? 50If thou remember’st ought ere thou camest here,How thou camest here thou mayst.
_Mir._ But that I do not.
_Pros._ Twelve year since, Miranda, twelve year since,Thy father was the Duke of Milan, andA prince of power.
_Mir._ Sir, are not you my father? 55
_Pros._ Thy mother was a piece of virtue, andShe said thou wast my daughter; and thy fatherWas Duke of Milan; and his only heirAnd princess, no worse issued.
_Mir._ O the heavens!What foul play had we, that we came from thence? 60Or blessed was’t we did?
_Pros._ Both, both, my girl:By foul play, as thou say’st, were we heaved thence;But blessedly holp hither.
_Mir._ O, my heart bleedsTo think o’ the teen that I have turn’d you to.Which is from my remembrance! Please you, farther. 65
_Pros._ My brother, and thy uncle, call’d Antonio,--I pray thee, mark me,--that a brother shouldBe so perfidious!--he whom, next thyself,Of all the world I loved, and to him putThe manage of my state; as, at that time, 70Through all the signories it was the first,And Prospero the prime duke, being so reputedIn dignity, and for the liberal artsWithout a parallel; those being all my study,The government I cast upon my brother, 75And to my state grew stranger, being transportedAnd rapt in secret studies. Thy false uncle--Dost thou attend me?
_Mir._ Sir, most heedfully.
_Pros._ Being once perfected how to grant suits,How to deny them, whom to advance, and whom 80To trash for over-topping, new createdThe creatures that were mine, I say, or changed ’em,Or else new form’d ’em; having both the keyOf officer and office, set all hearts i’ the stateTo what tune pleased his ear; that now he was 85The ivy which had hid my princely trunk,And suck’d my verdure out on’t. Thou attend’st not.
_Mir._ O, good sir, I do.
_Pros._ I pray thee, mark me.I, thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicatedTo closeness and the bettering of my mind 90With that which, but by being so retired,O’er-prized all popular rate, in my false brotherAwaked an evil nature; and my trust,Like a good parent, did beget of himA falsehood in its contrary, as great 95As 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 oneWho having into truth, by telling of it, 100Made such a sinner of his memory,To credit his own lie, he did believeHe was indeed the duke; out o’ the substitution,And executing the outward face of royalty,With all prerogative:--hence his ambition growing,-- 105Dost thou hear?
_Mir._ Your tale, sir, would cure deafness.
_Pros._ To have no screen between this part he play’dAnd him he play’d it for, he needs will beAbsolute Milan. Me, poor man, my libraryWas dukedom large enough: of temporal royalties 110He thinks me now incapable; confederates,So dry he was for sway, wi’ the King of NaplesTo give him annual tribute, do him homage,Subject his coronet to his crown, and bendThe dukedom, yet unbow’d,--alas, poor Milan!-- 115To most ignoble stooping.
_Mir._ O the heavens!
_Pros._ Mark his condition, and th’ event; then tell meIf this might be a brother.
_Mir._ I should sinTo think but nobly of my grandmother:Good wombs have borne bad sons.
_Pros._ Now the condition. 120This King of Naples, being an enemyTo 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 125Out of the dukedom, and confer fair Milan,With all the honours, on my brother: whereon,A treacherous army levied, one midnightFated to the purpose, did Antonio openThe gates of Milan; and, i’ the dead of darkness, 130The ministers for the purpose hurried thenceMe and thy crying self.
_Mir._ Alack, for pity!I, not remembering how I cried out then,Will cry it o’er again: it is a hintThat wrings mine eyes to’t.
_Pros._ Hear a little further, 135And then I’ll bring thee to the present businessWhich now’s upon ’s; without the which, this storyWere most impertinent.
_Mir._ Wherefore did they notThat hour destroy us?
_Pros._ Well demanded, wench:My tale provokes that question. Dear, they durst not, 140So dear the love my people bore me; nor setA mark so bloody on the business; butWith colours fairer painted their foul ends.In few, they hurried us aboard a bark,Bore us some leagues to sea; where they prepared 145A rotten carcass of a boat, not rigg’d,Nor tackle, sail, nor mast; the very ratsInstinctively have quit it: there they hoist us,To cry to the sea that roar’d to us; to sighTo the winds, whose pity, sighing back again, 150Did us but loving wrong.
_Mir._ Alack, what troubleWas I then to you!
_Pros._ O, a cherubinThou wast that did preserve me. Thou didst smile,Infused with a fortitude from heaven,When I have deck’d the sea with drops full salt, 155Under my burthen groan’d; which raised in meAn undergoing stomach, to bear upAgainst what should ensue.
_Mir._ How came we ashore?
_Pros._ By Providence divine.Some food we had, and some fresh water, that 160A noble Neapolitan, Gonzalo,Out of his charity, who being then appointedMaster of this design, did give us, withRich garments, linens, stuffs and necessaries,Which since have steaded much; so, of his gentleness, 165Knowing I loved my books, he furnish’d meFrom mine own library with volumes thatI prize above my dukedom.
_Mir._ Would I mightBut ever see that man!
_Pros._ Now I arise: [_Resumes his mantle._Sit still, and hear the last of our sea-sorrow. 170Here in this island we arrived; and hereHave I, thy schoolmaster, made thee more profitThan other princesses can, that have more timeFor vainer hours, and tutors not so careful.
_Mir._ Heavens thank you for’t! And now, I pray you, sir, 175For still ’tis beating in my mind, your reasonFor raising this sea-storm?
_Pros._ Know thus far forth.By accident most strange, bountiful Fortune,Now my dear lady, hath mine enemiesBrought to this shore; and by my prescience 180I find my zenith doth depend uponA most auspicious star, whose influenceIf now I court not, but omit, my fortunesWill ever after droop. Here cease more questions:Thou art inclined to sleep; ’tis a good dulness, 185And give it way: I know thou canst not choose.[_Miranda sleeps._Come away, servant, come. I am ready now.Approach, my Ariel, come.
_Enter _ARIEL_._
_Ari._ All hail, great master! grave sir, hail! I comeTo answer thy best pleasure; be’t to fly, 190To swim, to dive into the fire, to rideOn the curl’d clouds, to thy strong bidding taskAriel and all his quality.
_Pros._ Hast thou, spirit,Perform’d to point the tempest that I bade thee?
_Ari._ To every article. 195I boarded the king’s ship; now on the beak,Now in the waist, the deck, in every cabin,I flamed amazement: sometime I’ld divide,And burn in many places; on the topmast,The yards and bowsprit, would I flame distinctly, 200Then meet and join. Jove’s lightnings, the precursorsO’ the dreadful thunder-claps, more momentaryAnd sight-outrunning were not: the fire and cracksOf sulphurous roaring the most mighty NeptuneSeem to besiege, and make his bold waves tremble, 205Yea, his dread trident shake.
_Pros._ My brave spirit!Who was so firm, so constant, that this coilWould not infect his reason?
_Ari._ Not a soulBut felt a fever of the mad, and play’dSome tricks of desperation. All but mariners 210Plunged in the foaming brine, and quit the vessel,Then all afire 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.”
_Pros._ Why, that’s my spirit! 215But was not this nigh shore?
_Ari._ Close by, my master.
_Pros._ 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 badest me,In troops I have dispersed them ’bout the isle. 220The king’s son have I landed by himself;Whom I left cooling of the air with sighsIn an odd angle of the isle, and sitting,His arms in this sad knot.
_Pros._ Of the king’s shipThe mariners, say how thou hast disposed, 225And all the rest o’ the fleet.
_Ari._ Safely in harbourIs the king’s ship; in the deep nook, where onceThou call’dst me up at midnight to fetch dewFrom the still-vex’d Bermoothes, there she’s hid:The mariners all under hatches stow’d; 230Who, 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 flote,Bound sadly home for Naples; 235Supposing that they saw the king’s ship wreck’d,And his great person perish.
_Pros._ Ariel, thy chargeExactly is perform’d: but there’s more work.What is the time o’ the day?
_Ari._ Past the mid season.
_Pros._ At least two glasses. The time ’twixt six and now 240Must by us both be spent most preciously.
_Ari._ Is there more toil? Since thou dost give me pains,Let me remember thee what thou hast promised,Which is not yet perform’d me.
_Pros._ How now? moody?What is’t thou canst demand?
_Ari._ My liberty. 245
_Pros._ Before the time be out? no more!
_Ari._ I prithee,Remember I have done thee worthy service;Told thee no lies, made thee no mistakings, servedWithout or grudge or grumblings: thou didst promiseTo bate me a full year.
_Pros._ Dost thou forget 250From what a torment I did free thee?
_Ari._ No.
_Pros._ Thou dost; and think’st it much to tread the oozeOf the salt deep,To run upon the sharp wind of the north,To do me business in the veins o’ the earth 255When it is baked with frost.
_Ari._ I do not, sir.
_Pros._ Thou liest, malignant thing! Hast thou forgotThe foul witch Sycorax, who with age and envyWas grown into a hoop? hast thou forgot her?
_Ari._ No, sir.
_Pros._ Thou hast. Where was she born? speak; tell me. 260
_Ari._ Sir, in Argier.
_Pros._ O, was she so? I mustOnce in a month recount what thou hast been,Which thou forget’st. This damn’d witch Sycorax,For mischiefs manifold, and sorceries terribleTo enter human hearing, from Argier, 265Thou know’st, was banish’d: for one thing she didThey would not take her life. Is not this true?
_Ari._ Ay, sir.
_Pros._ This blue-eyed hag was hither brought with child,And here was left by the sailors. Thou, my slave, 270As thou report’st thyself, wast then her servant;And, for thou wast a spirit too delicateTo act her earthy and abhorr’d commands,Refusing her grand hests, she did confine thee,By help of her more potent ministers, 275And in her most unmitigable rage,Into a cloven pine; within which riftImprison’d thou didst painfully remainA dozen years; within which space she died,And left thee there; where thou didst vent thy groans 280As 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 withA human shape.
_Ari._ Yes, Caliban her son.
_Pros._ Dull thing, I say so; he, that Caliban, 285Whom now I keep in service. Thou best know’stWhat torment I did find thee in; thy groansDid make wolves howl, and penetrate the breastsOf ever-angry bears: it was a tormentTo lay upon the damn’d, which Sycorax 290Could not again undo: it was mine art,When I arrived and heard thee, that made gapeThe pine, and let thee out.
_Ari._ I thank thee, master.
_Pros._ If thou more murmur’st, I will rend an oak,And peg thee in his knotty entrails, till 295Thou hast howl’d away twelve winters.
_Ari._ Pardon, master:I will be correspondent to command,And do my spiriting gently.
_Pros._ Do so; and after two daysI will discharge thee.
_Ari._ That’s my noble master!What shall I do? say what; what shall I do? 300
_Pros._ Go make thyself like a nymph o’ the sea:Be subject to no sight but thine and mine; invisibleTo 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; 305Awake!
_Mir._ The strangeness of your story putHeaviness in me.
_Pros._ Shake it off. Come on;We’ll visit Caliban my slave, who neverYields us kind answer.
_Mir._ ’Tis a villain, sir,I do not love to look on.
_Pros._ But, as ’tis, 310We cannot miss him: he does make our fire,Fetch in our wood, and serves in officesThat 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 thee: 315Come, thou tortoise! when?
_Re-enter ARIEL like a water-nymph._
Fine apparition! My quaint Ariel,Hark in thine ear.
_Ari._ My lord, it shall be done. [_Exit._
_Pros._ Thou poisonous slave, got by the devil himselfUpon thy wicked dam, come forth! 320
_Enter CALIBAN._
_Cal._ As wicked dew as e’er my mother brush’dWith raven’s feather from unwholesome fenDrop on you both! a south-west blow on yeAnd blister you all o’er!
_Pros._ For this, be sure, to-night thou shalt have cramps, 325Side-stitches that shall pen thy breath up; urchinsShall, for that vast of night that they may work,All exercise on thee; thou shalt be pinch’dAs thick as honeycomb, each pinch more stingingThan bees that made ’em.
_Cal._ I must eat my dinner. 330This island’s mine, by Sycorax my mother,Which thou takest from me. When thou camest first,Thou strokedst me, and madest much of me; wouldst give meWater with berries in’t; and teach me howTo name the bigger light, and how the less, 335That burn by day and night: and then I loved thee,And show’d thee all the qualities o’ th’ isle,The fresh springs, brine-pits, barren place and fertile:Curs’d be I that did so! All the charmsOf Sycorax, toads, beetles, bats, light on you! 340For I am all the subjects that you have,Which first was mine own king: and here you sty meIn this hard rock, whiles you do keep from meThe rest o’ th’ island.
_Pros._ Thou most lying slave,Whom stripes may move, not kindness! I have used thee, 345Filth as thou art, with human care; and lodged theeIn mine own cell, till thou didst seek to violateThe honour of my child.
_Cal._ O ho, O ho! would ’t had been done!Thou didst prevent me; I had peopled else 350This isle with Calibans.
_Pros._ 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 hourOne thing or other: when thou didst not, savage, 355Know thine own meaning, but wouldst gabble likeA thing most brutish, I endow’d thy purposesWith words that made them known. But thy vile race,Though thou didst learn, had that in’t which good naturesCould not abide to be with; therefore wast thou 360Deservedly confined into this rock,Who hadst deserved more than a prison.
_Cal._ You taught me language; and my profit on’tIs, I know how to curse. The red plague rid youFor learning me your language!
_Pros._ Hag-seed, hence! 365Fetch us in fuel; and be quick, thou’rt best,To answer other business. Shrug’st thou, malice?If thou neglect’st, or dost unwillinglyWhat I command, I’ll rack thee with old cramps,Fill all thy bones with aches, make thee roar, 370That beasts shall tremble at thy din.
_Cal._ No, pray thee.[_Aside_] 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! [_Exit Caliban._
_Re-enter ARIEL, invisible, playing and singing; FERDINANDfollowing._
_ARIEL’S song._
Come unto these yellow sands, 375And then take hands:Courtsied when you have and kiss’dThe wild waves whist:Foot it featly here and there;And, sweet sprites, the burthen bear. 380
_Burthen_ [_dispersedly_]. Hark, hark!Bow-wow.The watch-dogs bark:Bow-wow.
_Ari._ Hark, hark! I hearThe strain of strutting chanticleer 385Cry, Cock-a-diddle-dow.
_Fer._ Where should this music be? i’ th’ air or th’ earth?It sounds no more: and, sure, it waits uponSome god o’ th’ island. Sitting on a bank,Weeping again the king my father’s wreck, 390This music crept by me upon the waters,Allaying both their fury and my passionWith its sweet air: thence I have follow’d it.Or it hath drawn me rather. But ’tis gone.No, it begins again. 395
_ARIEL sings._
Full fathom five thy father lies;Of his bones are coral made;Those are pearls that were his eyes:Nothing of him that doth fade,But doth suffer a sea-change 400Into something rich and strange.Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell:
_Burthen:_ Ding-dong.
_Ari._ Hark! now I hear them,--Ding-dong, bell.
_Fer._ The ditty does remember my drown’d father. 405This is no mortal business, nor no soundThat 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, 410It carries a brave form. But ’tis a spirit.
_Pros._ No, wench; it eats and sleeps and hath such sensesAs we have, such. This gallant which thou seestWas in the wreck; and, but he’s something stain’dWith grief, that’s beauty’s canker, thou mightst call him 415A goodly person: he hath lost his fellows,And strays about to find ’em.
_Mir._ I might call himA thing divine; for nothing naturalI ever saw so noble.
_Pros._ [_Aside_] It goes on, I see,As my soul prompts it. Spirit, fine spirit! I’ll free thee 420Within two days for this.
_Fer._ Most sure, the goddessOn whom these airs attend! Vouchsafe my prayerMay know if you remain upon this island;And that you will some good instruction giveHow I may bear me here: my prime request, 425Which I do last pronounce, is, O 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.
_Pros._ How? the best? 430What wert thou, if the King of Naples heard thee?
_Fer._ A single thing, as I am now, that wondersTo hear thee speak of Naples. He does hear me;And that he does I weep: myself am Naples,Who with mine eyes, never since at ebb, beheld 435The king my father wreck’d.
_Mir._ Alack, for mercy!
_Fer._ Yes, faith, and all his lords; the Duke of MilanAnd his brave son being twain.
_Pros._ [_Aside_] The Duke of MilanAnd his more braver daughter could control thee,If now ’twere fit to do’t. At the first sight 440They have changed eyes. Delicate Ariel,I’ll set thee free for this. [_To Fer._] A word, good sir;I fear you have done yourself some wrong: a word.
_Mir._ Why speaks my father so ungently? ThisIs the third man that e’er I saw; the first 445That e’er I sigh’d for: pity move my fatherTo be inclined my way!
_Fer._ O, if a virgin,And your affection not gone forth, I’ll make youThe queen of Naples.
_Pros._ Soft, sir! one word more.[_Aside_] They are both in either’s powers:but this swift business 450I must uneasy make, lest too light winningMake the prize light. [_To Fer._] One word more; I charge theeThat thou attend me: thou dost here usurpThe name thou owest not; and hast put thyselfUpon this island as a spy, to win it 455From me, the lord on’t.
_Fer._ No, as I am a man.
_Mir._ There’s nothing ill can dwell in such a temple: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. Come; 460I’ll manacle thy neck and feet together:Sea-water shalt thou drink; thy food shall beThe fresh-brook muscles, wither’d roots, and husksWherein the acorn cradled. Follow.
_Fer._ No;I will resist such entertainment till 465Mine enemy has more power.[_Draws, and is charmed from moving._
_Mir._ O dear father,Make not too rash a trial of him, forHe’s gentle, and not fearful.
_Pros._ What! I say,My foot my tutor? Put thy sword up, traitor;Who makest a show, but darest not strike, thy conscience 470Is so possess’d with guilt: come from thy ward;For I can here disarm thee with this stickAnd 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 475Shall make me chide thee, if not hate thee. What!An advocate for an impostor! hush!Thou think’st there is no more such shapes as he,Having seen but him and Caliban: foolish wench!To the most of men this is a Caliban, 480And they to him are angels.
_Mir._ My affectionsAre, then, most humble; I have no ambitionTo 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: 485My spirits, as in a dream, are all bound up.My father’s loss, the weakness which I feel,The wreck of all my friends, nor this man’s threats,To whom I am subdued, are but light to me,Might I but through my prison once a day 490Behold this maid: all corners else o’ th’ earthLet liberty make use of; space enoughHave I in such a prison.
_Pros._ [_Aside_] It works. [_To Fer._] Come on.Thou hast done well, fine Ariel! [_To Fer._] Follow me.[_To Ari._] Hark what thou else shalt do me.
_Mir._ Be of comfort; 495My father’s of a better nature, sir,Than he appears by speech: this is unwontedWhich now came from him.
_Pros._ Thou shalt be as freeAs mountain winds: but then exactly doAll points of my command.
_Ari._ To the syllable. 500
_Pros._ Come, follow. Speak not for him. [_Exeunt._
Notes: I, 2.
3: _stinking_] _flaming_ Singer conj. _kindling_ S. Verges conj.4: _cheek_] _heat_ Collier MS. _crack_ Staunton conj.7: _creature_] _creatures_ Theobald.13: _fraughting_] Ff. _fraighted_ Pope. _fraighting_ Theobald._freighting_ Steevens.15: Mir. _O, woe the day!_ Pros. _No harm._] Mir. _O woe the day!no harm?_ Johnson conj.19: _I am more better_] _I’m more or better_ Pope.24: [Lays ... mantle] Pope.28: _provision_] F1. _compassion_ F2 F3 F4. _prevision_ Hunter conj.29: _soul_] _soul lost_ Rowe. _foyle_ Theobald. _soil_ Johnson conj._loss_ Capell. _foul_ Wright conj.31: _betid_] F1. _betide_ F2 F3 F4.35: _a_] F1. _the_ F2 F3 F4.38: _thou_] om. Pope.41: _Out_] _Full_ Pope (after Dryden). _Quite_ Collier MS.44: _with_] _in_ Pope (after Dryden).53: _Twelve year ... year_] _Tis twelve years ... years_ Pope.58, 59: _and his only heir And princess_] _and his only heirA princess_ Pope. _thou his only heir And princess_ Steevens._and though his only heir A princess_] Johnson conj.63: _holp_] _help’d_ Pope._O, my heart_] _My heart_ Pope.78: _me_] om. F3 F4.80: _whom ... whom_] F2 F3 F4. _who ... who_ F1.81: _trash_] _plash_ Hanmer.82, 83: _’em ... ’em_] _them ... them_ Capell.84: _i’ the state_] _i’th state_ F1. _e’th state_ F2._o’th state_ F3 F4. om. Pope.88: _O, good sir ... mark me._] _Good sir ... mark me then._ Pope._O yes, good sir ... mark me._ Capell.Mir. _O, ... do._ Pros. _I ... me_] _I ... me._ Mir. _O ... do._Steevens.89: _dedicated_] _dedicate_ Steevens (Ritson conj.).91: _so_] F1. om. F2 F3 F4.97: _lorded_] _loaded_ Collier MS.99: _exact, like_] _exact. Like_ Ff.100: _having into truth ... of it_] _loving an untruth, and telling’t oft_ Hanmer. _having unto truth ... oft_ Warburton. _having tountruth ... of it_ Collier MS. _having sinn’d to truth ... oft_Musgrave conj._telling_] _quelling_ S. Verges conj.101: _Made ... memory_] _Makes ... memory_ Hanmer. _Makes ...memory too_ Musgrave conj.103: _indeed the duke_] _the duke_ Steevens. _indeed duke_ S. Walkerconj._out o’ the_] _from_ Pope.105: _his_] _is_ F2.105, 106: _ambition growing_] _ambition Growing_ Steevens.106: _hear?_] _hear, child?_ Hanmer.109: _Milan_] _Millanie_ F1 (Capell’s copy).112: _wi’ the_] Capell. _with_ Ff. _wi’ th’_ Rowe. _with the_Steevens.116: _most_] F1. _much_ F2 F3 F4.119: _but_] _not_ Pope.120: _Good ... sons_] Theobald suggested that these words should begiven to Prospero. Hanmer prints them so.122: _hearkens_] _hears_ Pope. _hearks_ Theobald.129: _Fated_] _Mated_ Dryden’s version._purpose_] _practise_ Collier MS.131: _ministers_] _minister_ Rowe.133: _out_] _on’t_ Steevens conj.135: _to ’t_] om. Steevens (Farmer conj.).138: _Wherefore_] _Why_ Pope.141: _me_] om. Pope.146: _boat_] Rowe (after Dryden). _butt_ F1 F2 F3. _but_ F4._busse_ Black conj.147: _sail_] F1. _nor sail_ F2 F3 F4.148: _have_] _had_ Rowe (after Dryden).150: _the winds_] _winds_ Pope.155: _deck’d_] _brack’d_ Hanmer. _mock’d_ Warburton. _fleck’d_Johnson conj. _degg’d_ anon. ap. Reed conj.162: _who_] om. Pope. _he_ Steevens conj.169: _Now I arise_] Continued to Miranda. Blackstone conj.[Resumes his mantle] om. Ff. [Put on robe again. Collier MS.173: _princesses_] _princesse_ F1 F2 F3. _princess_ F4._princes_ Rowe. _princess’_ Dyce (S. Walker conj.). See note (III).186: [M. sleeps] Theobald.189: SCENE III. Pope.190: _be’t_] F1. _be it_ F2 F3 F4.193: _quality_] _qualities_ Pope (after Dryden).198: _sometime_] F1. _sometimes_ F2 F3 F4.200: _bowsprit_] _bore-sprit_ Ff. _bolt-sprit_ Rowe.201: _lightnings_] Theobald. _lightning_ Ff.202: _o’ the_] _of_ Pope._thunder-claps_] _thunder-clap_ Johnson.205: _Seem_] _Seem’d_ Theobald.206: _dread_] F1. _dead_ F2 F3 F4._My brave_] _My brave, brave_ Theobald. _That’s my brave_ Hanmer.209: _mad_] _mind_ Pope (after Dryden).211, 212: _vessel, ... son_] _vessell; Then all a fire with methe King’s sonne_ Ff.218: _sustaining_] _sea-stained_ Edwards conj. _unstaining_ or_sea-staining_ Spedding conj.229: _Bermoothes_] _Bermudas_ Theobald.231: _Who_] _Whom_ Hanmer.234: _are_] _all_ Collier MS._upon_] _on_ Pope.239-240: Ari. _Past the mid season._ Pros. _At least two glasses_]Ari. _Past the mid season at least two glasses._ Warburton.Pros. _... Past the mid season?_ Ari. _At least two glasses_Johnson conj.244: _How now? moody?_] _How now, moody!_ Dyce (so Dryden, ed. 1808).245: _What_] F1. _Which_ F2 F3 F4.248: _made thee_] Ff. _made_ Pope.249: _didst_] F3 F4. _did_ F1 F2.264: _and sorceries_] _sorceries too_ Hanmer.267: _Is not this true?_] _Is this not true?_ Pope.271: _wast then_] Rowe (after Dryden). _was then_ Ff.273: _earthy_] _earthly_ Pope.282: _son_] F1. _sunne_ F2. _sun_ F3 F4._she_] Rowe (after Dryden). _he_ Ff.298: See note (IV).301: _like_] F1. _like to_ F2 F3 F4.302: _Be subject to_] _be subject To_ Malone._but thine and mine_] _but mine_ Pope.304: _in’t_] _in it_ Pope._go, hence_] _goe: hence_ Ff. _go hence_ Pope. _hence_ Hanmer.307: _Heaviness_] _Strange heaviness_ Edd. conj.312: _serves in offices_] F1. _serves offices_ F2 F3 F4._serveth offices_ Collier MS.316: _Come, thou tortoise! when?_] om. Pope._Come_] _Come forth_ Steevens.]320: _come forth!_] _come forth, thou tortoise!_ Pope.321: SCENE IV. Pope.332: _camest_] Rowe. _cam’st_ Ff. _cam’st here_ Ritson conj.333: _madest_] Rowe (after Dryden). _made_ Ff.339: _Curs’d be I that_] F1. _Curs’d be I that I_ F2 F3 F4._cursed be I that_ Steevens.342: _Which_] _Who_ Pope, and at line 351.346: _thee_] om. F4.349: _would ’t_] Ff. _I wou’d it_ Pope.351: Pros.] Theobald (after Dryden). Mira. Ff.352: _wilt_] F1. _will_ F2 F3 F4.355, 356: _didst not ... Know_] _couldst not ... Shew_ Hanmer.356: _wouldst_] _didst_ Hanmer.361, 362: _Deservedly ... deserved_] _Justly ... who hadst Deserv’d_S. Walker conj. _Confin’d ... deserv’d_ id. conj.362: _Who ... prison_] om. Pope (after Dryden).366: _thou’rt_] F1 F2 F3. _thou art_ F4. _thou wer’t_ Rowe.375: SCENE V. Pope.following.] Malone.378: _The wild waves whist_] Printed as a parenthesis by Steevens.See note (V).380: _the burthen bear_] Pope. _bear the burthen_ Ff.381-383: Steevens gives _Hark, hark! The watch-dogs bark_ to Ariel.387: _i’ th’ air or th’ earth?_] _in air or earth?_ Pope.390: _again_] _against_ Rowe (after Dryden).407: _owes_] _owns_ Pope (after Dryden), but leaves _ow’st_ 454.408: SCENE VI. Pope.419: _It goes on, I see,_] _It goes, I see_ Capell. _It goes on_Steevens.420: _fine spirit!_] om. Hanmer.427: _maid_] F3. _mayd_ F1 F2. _made_ F4.443: See note (VI).444: _ungently_] F1. _urgently_ F2 F3 F4.451: _lest_] F4. _least_ F1 F2 F3.452: _One_] _Sir, one_ Pope._I charge thee_] _I charge thee_ [to Ariel. Pope.460: Pros. prefixed again to this line in Ff.468: _and_] _tho’_ Hanmer.469: _foot_] _fool_ S. Walker conj. _child_ Dryden’s version.470: _makest_] _mak’st_ F1. _makes_ F2 F3 F4.471: _so_] F1. om. F2 F3 F4. _all_ Pope.478: _is_] _are_ Rowe.488: _nor_] _and_ Rowe (after Dryden). _or_ Capell.489: _are_] _were_ Malone conj.
ACT II.
SCENE I. _Another part of the island._
_Enter ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, GONZALO, ADRIAN, FRANCISCO,and others._
_Gon._ Beseech you, sir, be merry; you have cause,So have we all, of joy; for our escapeIs much beyond our loss. Our hint of woeIs common; every day, some sailor’s wife,The masters of some merchant, and the merchant, 5Have just our theme of woe; but for the miracle,I mean our preservation, few in millionsCan speak like us: then wisely, good sir, weighOur sorrow with our comfort.
_Alon._ Prithee, peace.
_Seb._ He receives comfort like cold porridge. 10
_Ant._ The visitor will not give him o’er so.
_Seb._ Look, he’s winding up the watch of his wit; byand by it will strike.
_Gon._ Sir,--
_Seb._ One: tell. 15
_Gon._ When every grief is entertain’d that’s offer’d,Comes to the entertainer--
_Seb._ A dollar.
_Gon._ Dolour comes to him, indeed: you have spokentruer than you purposed. 20
_Seb._ You have taken it wiselier than I meant you should.
_Gon._ Therefore, my lord,--
_Ant._ Fie, what a spendthrift is he of his tongue!
_Alon._ I prithee, spare.
_Gon._ Well, I have done: but yet,-- 25
_Seb._ He will be talking.
_Ant._ Which, of he or Adrian, for a good wager, firstbegins to crow?
_Seb._ The old cock.
_Ant._ The cockerel. 30
_Seb._ Done. The wager?
_Ant._ A laughter.
_Seb._ A match!
_Adr._ Though this island seem to be desert,--
_Seb._ Ha, ha, ha!--So, you’re paid. 35
_Adr._ Uninhabitable, and almost inaccessible,--
_Seb._ Yet,--
_Adr._ Yet,--
_Ant._ He could not miss’t.
_Adr._ It must needs be of subtle, tender and delicate 40temperance.
_Ant._ Temperance was a delicate wench.
_Seb._ Ay, and a subtle; as he most learnedly delivered.
_Adr._ The air breathes upon us here most sweetly.
_Seb._ As if it had lungs, and rotten ones. 45
_Ant._ Or as ’twere perfumed by a fen.
_Gon._ Here is every thing advantageous to life.
_Ant._ True; save means to live.
_Seb._ Of that there’s none, or little.
_Gon._ How lush and lusty the grass looks! how green! 50
_Ant._ The ground, indeed, is tawny.
_Seb._ With an eye of green in’t.
_Ant._ He misses not much.
_Seb._ No; he doth but mistake the truth totally.
_Gon._ But the rarity of it is,--which is indeed almost 55beyond credit,--
_Seb._ As many vouched rarities are.
_Gon._ That our garments, being, as they were, drenchedin the sea, hold, notwithstanding, their freshness and glosses,being rather new-dyed than stained with salt water. 60
_Ant._ If but one of his pockets could speak, would itnot say he lies?
_Seb._ Ay, or very falsely pocket up his report.
_Gon._ Methinks our garments are now as fresh as whenwe put them on first in Afric, at the marriage of the king’s 65fair daughter Claribel to the King of Tunis.
_Seb._ ’Twas a sweet marriage, and we prosper well inour return.
_Adr._ Tunis was never graced before with such a paragonto their queen. 70
_Gon._ Not since widow Dido’s time.
_Ant._ Widow! a pox o’ that! How came that widowin? widow Dido!
_Seb._ What if he had said ‘widower Æneas’ too? GoodLord, how you take it! 75
_Adr._ ‘Widow Dido’ said you? you make me study ofthat: she was of Carthage, not of Tunis.
_Gon._ This Tunis, sir, was Carthage.
_Adr._ Carthage?
_Gon._ I assure you, Carthage. 80
_Seb._ His word is more than the miraculous harp; hehath 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 hispocket, and give it his son for an apple. 85
_Ant._ And, sowing the kernels of it in the sea, bringforth more islands.
_Gon._ Ay.
_Ant._ Why, in good time.
_Gon._ Sir, we were talking that our garments seem now 90as fresh as when we were at Tunis at the marriage of yourdaughter, who is now queen.
_Ant._ And the rarest that e’er came there.
_Seb._ Bate, I beseech you, widow Dido.
_Ant._ O, widow Dido! ay, widow Dido. 95
_Gon._ Is not, sir, my doublet as fresh as the first day Iwore it? I mean, in a sort.
_Ant._ That sort was well fished for.
_Gon._ When I wore it at your daughter’s marriage?
_Alon._ You cram these words into mine ears against 100The stomach of my sense. Would I had neverMarried my daughter there! for, coming thence,My son is lost, and, in my rate, she too.Who is so far from Italy removedI ne’er again shall see her. O thou mine heir 105Of Naples and of Milan, what strange fishHath 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 110The surge most swoln that met him; his bold head’Bove the contentious waves he kept, and oar’dHimself with his good arms in lusty strokeTo the shore, that o’er his wave-worn basis bow’d,As stooping to relieve him: I not doubt 115He 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, 120Who 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 herselfWeigh’d between loathness and obedience, atWhich end o’ the beam should bow. We have lost your son, 125I fear, for ever: Milan and Naples haveMore widows in them of this business’ makingThan we bring men to comfort them:The fault’s your own.
_Alon._ So is the dear’st o’ the loss.
_Gon._ My lord Sebastian, 130The truth you speak doth lack some gentleness,And time to speak it in: you rub the sore,When you should bring the plaster.
_Seb._ Very well.
_Ant._ And most chirurgeonly.
_Gon._ It is foul weather in us all, good sir, 135When you are cloudy.
_Seb._ Foul weather?
_Ant._ Very foul.
_Gon._ Had I plantation of this isle, my lord,--
_Ant._ He’ld sow’t with nettle-seed.
_Seb._ Or docks, or mallows.
_Gon._ And were the king on’t, what would I do?
_Seb._ ’Scape being drunk for want of wine. 140