THE TEMPEST

by Shakespeare · Cluster: Blank Verse · Tragicomedy · Romance Play

Abstract

Shakespeare’s late romance on the magician Prospero, exiled duke who raises a storm to bring his usurpers to his island, tests the lovers Ferdinand and Miranda, and finally forgives; central are magic and the supernatural, usurpation, forgiveness, nature versus civilization, and art.

Capitoli / Chapters

• Act I, Scene 1
• Act I, Scene 2
• Act II, Scene 1
• Act III, Scene 1
• Act III, Scene 2
• Act III, Scene 3
• Act IV, Scene 1
• Act V, Scene 1

Connections

Topoi: Paradise Lost, Theatrum Mundi Archetypes: Wise Old Man Sage, Monster, Usurper, Lover, Innocent Motifs: Supernatural, Storm, Sea, Music and Song, Dreams, Sleep, Book Reading Themes & Concepts: Mercy, Power and Corruption, Kingship and Legitimacy, Revenge, Romantic Love, Nature vs Civilization, Imagination, Exile, Transience, Grace and Redemption Forms & Genres: Romance Play, Tragicomedy, Masque, Blank Verse Settings: Enchanted Wood (2), Sea (2) Characters: Prince Prospero, Miranda, Ariel, Caliban, Ferdinand, Antonio, Alonso, Gonzalo, Stephano, Trinculo

Testo integrale / Full text

THE TEMPEST THE King’s Men acted The Tempest before their patron, James I, at Whitehall on I November 1611. (It was also chosen for performance during the festivities for the marriage of James’s daughter, Princess Elizabeth, to the Elector Palatine during the winter of 1612- 13.) Shakespeare’s play takes place on a desert island somewhere between Tunis and Naples; he derived some details of it from his reading of travel literature, including accounts of an expedition of nine ships taking five hundred colonists from Plymouth to Virginia, which set sail in May 1609. On 29 July the flagship, the Sea-Adventure, was wrecked by a storm on the coast of the Bermudas. She was presumed lost, but on 23 May 1610 those aboard her arrived safely in Jamestown, Virginia, having found shelter on the island of Bermuda, where they were able to build the pinnaces in which they completed their journey. Accounts of the voyage soon reached England; the last-written that Shakespeare seems to have known is a letter by William Strachey, who was on the Sea-Adventure, dated 15 July 1610; though it was not published until 1625, it circulated in manuscript. So it seems clear that Shakespeare wrote The Tempest during the later part of 1610or in 1611. It was first printed in the 1623 Folio, where it is the opening play. Though other items of Shakespeare’s reading—including both Arthur Golding’s translation and Ovid’s original Metamorphoses (closely echoed in Prospero’s farewell to his magic), John Florio’s translation of essays by Michel de Montaigne, and (less locally but no less pervasively) Virgil’s Aeneid—certainly fed Shakespeare’s imagination as he wrote The Tempest, he appears to have devised the main plot himself. Many of its elements are based on the familiar stuff of romance literature: the long-past shipwreck after a perilous voyage of Prospero and his daughter Miranda; the shipwreck, depicted in the opening scene, of Prospero’s brother, Antonio, with Alonso, King of Naples, and others; the separation and estrangement of relatives—Antonio usurped Prospero’s dukedom, and Alonso believes his son, Ferdinand, is drowned; the chaste love, subjected to trials, of the handsome Ferdinand and the beautiful Miranda; the influence of the supernatural exercised through Prospero’s magic powers; and the final reunions and reconciliations along with the happy conclusion of the love affair. Shakespeare had employed such conventions from the beginning of his career in his comedies, and with especial concentration, shortly before he wrote The Tempest, in Pericles, The Winter’s Tale, and Cymbeline. But whereas those plays unfold the events as they happen, taking us on a journey through time and space, in The Tempest (as elsewhere only in The Comedy of Errors) Shakespeare gives us only the end of the story, concentrating the action into a few hours and locating it in a single place, but informing us about the past, as in the long, romance-type narrative (1.2) in which Prospero tells Miranda of her childhood. The supernatural, a strong presence in all Shakespeare’s late plays, is particularly pervasive in The Tempest; Prospero is a ‘white’ magician—a beneficent one—attended by the spirit Ariel and the sub-human Caliban, two of Shakespeare’s most obviously symbolic characters; and a climax of the play is the supernaturally induced wedding masque that Prospero conjures up for the entertainment and edification of the young lovers, and which vanishes as he remembers Caliban’s plot against his life. THE PERSONS OF THE PLAY PROSPERO, the rightful Duke of Milan MIRANDA, his daughter

ANTONIO, his brother, the usurping Duke of Milan ALONSO, King of Naples SEBASTIAN, his brother FERDINAND, Alonso’s son GONZALO, an honest old counsellor of Naples ARIEL, an airy spirit attendant upon Prospero CALIBAN, a savage and deformed native of the island, Prospero’s slave TRINCULO, Alonso’s jester STEFANO, Alonso’s drunken butler

The MASTER of a ship BOATSWAIN

MARINERS

SPIRITS

The Masque Spirits appearing as: IRIS

CERES

JUNO

Nymphs, reapers

The Tempest

Atto 1, Scena 1

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	A tempestuous noise of thunder and lightning heard. Enter severally a Shipmaster and a Boatswain
MASTER	Boatswain!
BOATSWAIN	Here, Master. What cheer?
MASTER	Good, speak to th’ mariners. Fall to’t yarely, or we run ourselves aground. Bestir, bestir!
(didascalia)	Exit
(didascalia)	Enter Mariners
BOATSWAIN	Heigh, my hearts! Cheerly, cheerly, my hearts! Yare, yare! Take in the topsail! Tend to th’ Master’s whistte!—Blow till thou burst thy wind, if room enough. Enter Alonso, Sebastian, Antonio, Ferdinand, Gonzalo, and others
ALONSO	Good Boatswain, have care. Where’s the Master? (To the Mariners) Play the men!
BOATSWAIN	I pray now, keep below.
ANTONIO	Where is the Master, Boatswain?
BOATSWAIN	Do you not hear him? You mar our labour. Keep your cabins; you do assist the storm.
GONZALO	Nay, good, be patient.
BOATSWAIN	When the sea is. Hence! What cares these roarers for the name of king? To cabin! Silence; trouble us not.
GONZALO	Good, yet remember whom thou hast aboard.
BOATSWAIN	None that I more love than myself. You are a councillor; if you can command these elements to silence and work peace of the present, we will not hand a rope more. Use your authority. If you cannot, give thanks you have lived so long and make yourself ready in your cabin for the mischance of the hour, if it so hap. (To the Mariners) Cheerly, good hearts! (To Gonzalo) Out of our way, I say!
(didascalia)	Exit
GONZALO	I have great comfort from this fellow. Methinks he hath no drowning mark upon him; his complexion is perfect gallows. Stand fast, good Fate, to his hanging. Make the rope of his destiny our cable, for our own doth little advantage. If he be not born to be hanged, our case is miserable.
(didascalia)	Exeunt Courtiers
(didascalia)	Enter Boatswain
BOATSWAIN	Down with the topmast! Yare! Lower, lower! Bring her to try wi’th’ main-course! A cry within A plague upon this howling! They are louder than the weather, or our office.
(didascalia)	Enter Sebastian, Antonio, and Gonzalo
BOATSWAIN	Yet again? What do you here? Shall we give o’er and drown? Have you a mind to sink?
SEBASTIAN	A pox o’your throat, you bawling, blasphemous, incharitable dog!
BOATSWAIN	Work you, then.
ANTONIO	Hang, cur, hang, you whoreson insolent noisemaker. We are less afraid to be drowned than thou art.
(didascalia)	Exeunt Mariners
GONZALO	I’ll warrant him for drowning, though the ship were no stronger than a nutshell and as leaky as an unstanched wench.
BOATSWAIN	Lay her a-hold, a-hold! Set her two courses! Off to sea again! Lay her off!
(didascalia)	Enter Mariners, wet
MARINERS	All lost! To prayers, to prayers! All lost!
(didascalia)	Exeunt Mariners
BOATSWAIN	What, must our mouths be cold?
GONZALO	The King and Prince at prayers! Let’s assist them, For our case is as theirs.
SEBASTIAN	I’m out of patience.
ANTONIO	We are merely cheated of our lives by drunkards. This wide-chopped rascal—would thou mightst lie drowning The washing of ten tides.
GONZALO	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
MARINERS	(within) Mercy on us! We split, we split! Farewell, my wife and children! Farewell, brother! We split, we split, we spht!
(didascalia)	Axit Boatswain
ANTONIO	Let’s all sink wi’th’ King.
SEBASTIAN	Let’s take leave of him.
(didascalia)	Exeunt Antonio and Sebastian
GONZALO	Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea for an acre of barren ground: long heath, broom, furze, anything. The wills above be done, but I would fain die a dry death. Exit

Atto 1, Scena 2

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Enter Prospero in his magic cloak, with a staff, and Miranda
MIRANDA	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 th’ welkin’s cheek, Dashes the fire out. O, I have suffered With those that I saw suffer! A brave vessel, Who had, no doubt, some noble creature in her, Dashed all to pieces! O, the cry did knock Against my very heart! Poor souls, they perished. Had I been any god of power, I would Have sunk the sea within the earth, or ere It should the good ship so have swallowed and The fraughting souls within her.
PROSPERO	Be collected. No more amazement. Tell your piteous heart There’s no harm done.
MIRANDA	O woe the day!
PROSPERO	No harm. I have done nothing but in care of thee, Of thee, my dear one, thee, my daughter, who Art ignorant of what thou art, naught knowing Of whence I am, nor that I am more better Than Prospero, master of a full poor cell And thy no greater father.
MIRANDA	More to know Did never meddle with my thoughts.
PROSPERO	’Tis time I should inform thee farther. Lend thy hand, And pluck my magic garment from me.
(didascalia)	Miranda removes Prospero’s cloak, and he lays it
(didascalia)	on the ground
PROSPERO	So. Lie there, my art.—Wipe thou thine eyes; have comfort. The direful spectacle of the wreck, which touched The very virtue of compassion in thee, I have with such provision in mine art So safely ordered that there is no soul— No, not so much perdition as an hair Betid to any creature in the vessel, Which thou heard‘st cry, which thou saw’st sink. Sit down, For thou must now know farther. Miranda sits
MIRANDA	You have often Begun to tell me what I am, but stopped And left me to a bootless inquisition, Concluding ‘Stay; not yet’.
PROSPERO	The hour’s now come. The very minute bids thee ope thine ear, Obey, and be attentive. Canst thou remember A time before we came unto this cell? I do not think thou canst, for then thou wast not Out three years old.
MIRANDA	Certainly, sir, I can.
PROSPERO	By what? By any other house or person? Of anything the image tell me that Hath kept with thy remembrance.
MIRANDA	’Tis far off, And rather like a dream than an assurance That my remembrance warrants. Had I not Four or five women once that tended me?
PROSPERO	Thou hadst, and more, Miranda. But how is it That this lives in thy mind? What seest thou else In the dark backward and abyss of time? If thou rememb‘rest aught ere thou cam’st here, How thou cam’st here thou mayst.
MIRANDA	But that I do not.
PROSPERO	Twelve year since, Miranda, twelve year since, Thy father was the Duke of Milan, and A prince of power—
MIRANDA	Sir, are not you my father?
PROSPERO	Thy mother was a piece of virtue, and She said thou wast my daughter; and thy father Was Duke of Milan, and his only heir And princess no worse issued.
MIRANDA	O the heavens! What foul play had we that we came from thence? Or blessed was’t we did?
PROSPERO	Both, both, my girl. By foul play, as thou sayst, were we heaved thence, But blessedly holp hither.
MIRANDA	O, my heart bleeds To think o’th’ teen that I have turned you to, Which is from my remembrance. Please you, farther.
PROSPERO	My brother and thy uncle called Antonio— I pray thee mark me, that a brother should Be so perfidious—he whom next thyself Of all the world I loved, and to him put The manage of my state—as at that time Through all the signories 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?
MIRANDA	Sir, most heedfully.
PROSPERO	Being once perfected how to grant suits, How to deny them, who t‘advance and who To trash for over-topping, new created The creatures that were mine, I say—or changed ’em Or else new formed ’em; having both the key Of officer and office, set all hearts i’th’ state To what tune pleased his ear, that now he was The ivy which had hid my princely trunk And sucked my verdure out on’t. Thou attend’st not!
MIRANDA	O good sir, I do.
PROSPERO	I pray thee mark me. I, thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicated To closeness and the bettering of my mind With that which but by being so retired O‘er-priced all popular rate, in my false brother Awaked 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 into truth, by telling oft, Made such a sinner of his memory To credit his own lie, he did believe He was indeed the Duke. Out o’th’ substitution, And executing th’outward face of royalty With all prerogative, hence his ambition growing— Dost thou hear?
MIRANDA	Your tale, sir, would cure deafness.
PROSPERO	To have no screen between this part he played And him he played 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, wi’th’ King of Naples To give him annual tribute, do him homage, Subject his coronet to his crown, and bend The dukedom, yet unbowed—alas,poor Milan— To most ignoble stooping.
MIRANDA	O the heavens!
PROSPERO	Mark his condition and th’event, then tell me If this might be a brother.
MIRANDA	I should sin To think but nobly of my grandmother. Good wombs have borne bad sons.
PROSPERO	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‘th’ 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 th’ purpose did Antonio open The gates of Milan; and, i’th’ dead of darkness, The ministers for th’ purpose hurried thence Me and thy crying self.
MIRANDA	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.
(didascalia)	PROSPERO sitting
MIRANDA	Hear a little further, And then I’ll bring thee to the present business Which now’s upon’s, without the which this story Were most impertinent.
MIRANDA	Wherefore did they not That hour destroy us?
PROSPERO	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 barque, Bore us some leagues to sea, where they prepared A rotten carcass of a butt, not rigged, Nor tackle, sail, nor mast—the very rats Instinctively have quit it. There they hoist us, To cry to th’ sea that roared to us, to sigh To th’winds, whose pity, sighing back again, Did us but loving wrong.
MIRANDA	Alack, what trouble Was I then to you!
PROSPERO	O,a cherubin Thou wast that did preserve me. Thou didst smile, Infused with a fortitude from heaven, When I have decked the sea with drops full salt, Under my burden groaned; which raised in me An undergoing stomach, to bear up Against what should ensue.
MIRANDA	How came we ashore?
PROSPERO	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 furnished me From mine own library with volumes that I prize above my dukedom.
MIRANDA	Would I might But ever see that man!
PROSPERO	Now I arise.
(didascalia)	He stands and puts on his cloak
PROSPERO	Sit still, and hear the last of our sea-sorrow. Here in this island we arrived, and here Have I thy schoolmaster made thee more profit Than other princes can, that have more time For vainer hours and tutors not so careful.
MIRANDA	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.
PROSPERO	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 inclined to sleep; ’tis a good dullness, And give it way. I know thou canst not choose. Miranda sleeps Come away, servant, come! I am ready now. Approach, my Ariel, come!
(didascalia)	Enter Ariel
ARIEL	All hail, great master, grave sir, hail. I come To answer thy best pleasure. Be’t to fly, To swim, to dive into the fire, to ride On the curled clouds, to thy strong bidding task Ariel and all his quality.
PROSPERO	Hast thou, spirit, Performed to point the tempest that I bade thee?
ARIEL	To every article. I boarded the King’s ship. Now on the beak, Now in the waste, the deck, in every cabin, I flamed amazement. Sometime 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 lightning, the precursors O’th’ dreadful thunderclaps, more momentary And sight-outrunning were not. The fire and cracks Of sulphurous roaring the most mighty Neptune Seem to besiege, and make his bold waves tremble, Yea, his dread trident shake.
PROSPERO	My brave spirit! Who was so firm, so constant, that this coil Would not infect his reason?
ARIEL	Not a soul But felt a fever of the mad, and played Some tricks of desperation. All but mariners Plunged in the foaming brine and quit the vessel, Then all afire with me. The King’s son Ferdinand, With hair upstaring—then like reeds, not hair— Was the first man that leaped; cried ‘Hell is empty, And all the devils are here’.
PROSPERO	Why, that’s my spirit! But was not this nigh shore?
ARIEL	Close by, my master.
PROSPERO	But are they, Ariel, safe?
ARIEL	Not a hair perished. On their sustaining garments not a blemish, But fresher than before. And, as thou bad’st me, In troops I have dispersed 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.
PROSPERO	Of the King’s ship, The mariners, say how thou hast disposed, And all the rest o’th’ fleet.
ARIEL	Safely in harbour Is the King’s ship, in the deep nook where cnce Thou called‘st me up at midnight to fetch dew From the still-vexed Bermudas, there she’s hid; The mariners all under hatches stowed, Who, with a charm joined to their suffered labour, I have left asleep. And for the rest o’th’ fleet, Which I dispersed, they all have met again, And are upon the Mediterranean float Bound sadly home for Naples, Supposing that they saw the King’s ship wrecked, And his great person perish.
PROSPERO	Ariel, thy charge Exactly is performed; but there’s more work. What is the time o’th’ day?
ARIEL	Past the mid season.
PROSPERO	At least two glasses. The time ’twixt six and now Must by us both be spent most preciously.
ARIEL	Is there more toil? Since thou dost give me pains, Let me remember thee what thou hast promised Which is not yet performed me.
PROSPERO	How now? Moody? What is’t thou canst demand?
ARIEL	My liberty.
PROSPERO	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.
PROSPERO	Dost thou forget From what a torment I did free thee?
ARIEL	No.
PROSPERO	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’th’ earth When it is baked with frost.
ARIEL	I do not, sir.
PROSPERO	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.
PROSPERO	Thou hast. Where was she born? Speak, tell me!
ARIEL	Sir, in Algiers.
PROSPERO	O, was she so! I must Once in a month recount what thou hast been, Which thou forget‘st. This damned witch Sycorax, For mischiefs manifold and sorceries terrible To enter human hearing, from Algiers Thou know’st was banished. For one thing she did They would not take her life. Is not this true?
ARIEL	Ay, sir.
PROSPERO	This blue-eyed hag was hither brought with child, 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 abhorred 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 Imprisoned 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 honoured with A human shape.
ARIEL	Yes, Caliban her son.
PROSPERO	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 damned, 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.
PROSPERO	If thou more murmur’st, I will rend an oak, And peg thee in his knotty entrails till Thou hast howled away twelve winters.
ARIEL	Pardon, master. I will be correspondent to command, And do my spriting gently.
PROSPERO	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?
PROSPERO	Go make thyself like to a nymph o’th’ 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!
(didascalia)	Exit Ariel
PROSPERO	Awake, dear heart, awake! Thou hast slept well; Awake.
MIRANDA	(awaking) The strangeness of your story put Heaviness in me.
PROSPERO	Shake it off. Come on; We’ll visit Caliban my slave, who never Yields us kind answer.
MIRANDA	’Tis a villain, sir, I do not love to look on.
PROSPERO	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!
CALIBAN	(within) There’s wood enough within.
PROSPERO	Come forth, I say! There’s other business for thee. Come, thou tortoise! When?
(didascalia)	Enter Ariel, like a water-nymph
PROSPERO	Fine apparition! My quaint Ariel, Hark in thine ear. He whispers
ARIEL	My lord, it shall be done. Exit
PROSPERO	Thou poisonous slave, got by the devil himself Upon thy wicked dam, come forth!
(didascalia)	Enter Caliban
CALIBAN	As wicked dew as e’er my mother brushed With raven’s feather from unwholesome fen Drop on you both! A southwest blow on ye, And blister you all o’er!
PROSPERO	For this be sure tonight thou shalt have cramps, Side-stitches that shall pen thy breath up. Urchins Shall forth at vast of night, that they may work All exercise on thee. Thou shalt be pinched As thick as honeycomb, each pinch more stinging Than bees that made ’em.
CALIBAN	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 strok’st me and made much of me, wouldst give me Water with berries in’t, and teach me how To name the bigger light, and how the less, That burn by day and night; and then I loved thee, And showed thee all the qualities o’th’ 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.
PROSPERO	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.
CALIBAN	O ho,O ho! Would’t had been done! Thou didst prevent me; I had peopled else This isle with Calibans.
MIRANDA	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 endowed thy purposes With words that made them known. But thy vile race, Though thou didst learn, had that in’t which good natures Could not abide to be with; therefore wast thou Deservedly confined into this rock, Who hadst deserved more than a prison.
CALIBAN	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!
PROSPERO	Hag-seed, hence! Fetch us in fuel. And be quick, thou’rt best, To answer other business.—Shrug’st thou, malice? If thou neglect’st or dost unwillingly What I command, I’ll rack thee with old cramps, Fill all thy bones with aches, make thee roar, That beasts shall tremble at thy din.
CALIBAN	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.
PROSPERO	So, slave, hence!
(didascalia)	Exit Caliban
(didascalia)	Enter Ariel like a water-nymph,playing and
PROSPERO	singing, invisible to Ferdinand, who follows.
(didascalia)	Prospero and Miranda stand aside
(didascalia)	Song
ARIEL	Come unto these yellow sands, And then take hands; Curtsied when you have and kissed— The wild waves whist— Foot it featly here and there, And, sweet sprites, bear The burden. Hark, hark.
(didascalia)	SPIRITS (dispersedly within)
ARIEL	Bow-wow!
(didascalia)	ARIEL
ARIEL	The watch-dogs bark. FSPIRITS] (within) Bow-wow!
ARIEL	Hark, hark, I hear The strain of strutting Chanticleer Cry ‘cock-a-diddle-dow’.
FERDINAND	Where should this music be? I’th’ air or th’earth? 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 followed it— Or it hath drawn me rather. But ’tis gone. No, it begins again.
(didascalia)	Song
ARIEL	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 Into something rich and strange. Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell:
(didascalia)	SPIRITS(within) Ding dong.
ARIEL	Hark, now I hear them.
(didascalia)	SPIRITS(within)
(didascalia)	Ding-dong bell. etc.
FERDINAND	The ditty does remember my drowned father. This is no mortal business, nor no sound That the earth owes.
(didascalia)	Music
FERDINAND	I hear it now above me.
PROSPERO	(to Miranda) The fringed curtains of thine eye advance, And say what thou seest yon.
MIRANDA	What is’t? A spirit? Lord, how it looks about! Believe me, sir, It carries a brave form. But ’tis a spirit.
PROSPERO	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 stained With grief, that’s beauty’s canker, thou mightst call him A goodly person. He hath lost his fellows, And strays about to find ’em.
MIRANDA	I might call him A thing divine, for nothing natural I ever saw so noble.
PROSPERO	(aside) It goes on, I see, As my soul prompts it. (To Ariel) Spirit, fine spirit, I’ll free thee
(didascalia)	Within two days for this.
(didascalia)	FERDINAND aside
PROSPERO	Most sure the goddess On whom these airs attend. (To Miranda) Vouchsafe my prayer 425 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—O you wonder— If you be maid or no?
MIRANDA	No wonder, sir, But certainly a maid.
FERDINAND	My language! Heavens! I am the best of them that speak this speech, Were I but where ’tis spoken.
PROSPERO	How, the best? What wert thou if the King of Naples heard thee?
FERDINAND	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, never since at ebb, beheld The King my father wrecked.
MIRANDA	Alack, for mercy!
FERDINAND	Yes, faith, and all his lords, the Duke of Milan And his brave son being twain.
PROSPERO	(aside) 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.—Deticate Ariel, I’ll set thee free for this. (To Ferdinand) A word, good sir. 445 I fear you have done yourself some wrong. A word.
MIRANDA	(aside) 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.
FERDINAND	O, if a virgin, And your affection not gone forth, I’ll make you The Queen of Naples.
PROSPERO	Soft, sir! One word more. (Aside) They are both in either’s powers. But this swift business I must uneasy make, lest too light winning Make the prize light. (To Ferdinand) 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.
FERDINAND	No, as I am a man.
MIRANDA	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.
PROSPERO	(to Ferdinand) Follow me. (To Miranda) Speak not you for him; he’s a traitor. (To Ferdinand) Come! I’ll manacle thy neck and feet together. Sea-water shalt thou drink; thy food shall be The fresh-brook mussels, withered roots, and husks Wherein the acorn cradled. Follow!
FERDINAND	No. I will resist such entertainment till Mine enemy has more power. He draws, and is charmed from moving
MIRANDA	O dear father, Make not too rash a trial of him, for He’s gentle, and not fearful.
PROSPERO	What, I say, My foot my tutor? Put thy sword up, traitor, Who mak‘st a show but dar’st not strike, thy conscience Is so possessed with guilt. Come from thy ward, For I can here disarm thee with this stick And make thy weapon drop.
MIRANDA	Beseech you, father!
PROSPERO	Hence! Hang not on my garments.
MIRANDA	Sir, have pity. I’ll be his surety.
PROSPERO	Silencel One word more Shall 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 th’ most of men this is a Caliban, And they to him are angels.
MIRANDA	My affections Are then most humble. I have no ambition To see a goodlier man.
PROSPERO	(to Ferdinand) Come on; obey. Thy nerves are in their infancy again, And have no vigour in them.
FERDINAND	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, nor 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’th’ earth Let liberty make use of; space enough Have I in such a prison.
PROSPERO	(aside) It works. (To Ferdinand) Come on.— Thou hast done well, fine Ariel. (To Ferdinand) Follow me. (To Ariel) Hark what thou else shalt do me.
MIRANDA	(to Ferdinand) Be of comfort. My father’s of a better nature, sir, Than he appears by speech. This is unwonted Which now came from him.
PROSPERO	(to Ariel) Thou shalt be as free As mountain winds; but then exactly do All points of my command.
ARIEL	To th’ syllable.
PROSPERO	(to Ferdinand) Come, follow. (To Miranda) Speak not for him.
(didascalia)	Exeunt

Atto 2, Scena 1

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Enter Alonso, Sebastian, Antonio, Gonzalo, Adrian, and Francisco
GONZALO	(to Alonso) 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.
ALONSO	Prithee, peace.
SEBASTIAN	(to Antonio) He receives comfort like cold porridge.
ANTONIO	The visitor will not give him o’er so.
SEBASTIAN	Look, he’s winding up the watch of his wit. By and by it will strike.
GONZALO	(to Alonso) Sir—
SEBASTIAN	(to Antonio) One: tell.
GONZALO	(to Alonso) When every grief is entertained that’s offered, Comes to th’entertainer—
SEBASTIAN	A dollar.
GONZALO	Dolour comes to him indeed. You have spoken truer than you purposed.
SEABASTIAN	You have taken it wiselier than I meant you should.
GONZALO	(to Alonso) Therefore my lord—
ANTONIO	(to Sebastian) Fie, what a spendthrift is he of his tongue!
ALONSO	(to Gonzalo) I prithee, spare.
GONZALO	Well, I have done. But yet—
SEBASTIAN	(to Antonio) He will be talking.
ANTONIO	Which of he or Adrian, for a good wager, first begins to crow?
SEBASTIAN	The old cock.
ANTONIO	The cockerel.
SEBASTIAN	Done. The wager?
ANTONIO	A laughter. 35
SEBASTIAN	A match!
ADRIAN	(to Gonzalo) Though this island seem to be desert—
(didascalia)	ANTONIO (to Sebastian) Ha, ha, ha!
(didascalia)	SEBASTIANSo, you’re paid.
ADRIAN	Uninhabitable, and almost inaccessible—
SEBASTIAN	(to Antonio) Yet—
ADRIAN	Yet—
ANTONIO	(to Sebastian) He could not miss’t.
ADRIAN	It must needs be of subtle, tender, and delicate temperance. 45
ANTONIO	(to Sebastian) Temperance was a delicate wench.
SEBASTIAN	Ay, and a subtle, as he most learnedly delivered.
ADRIAN	(to Gonzalo) The air breathes upon us here most sweetly.
SEBASTIAN	(to Antonio) As if it had lungs, and rotten ones.
ANTONIO	Or as ’twere perfumed by a fen.
GONZALO	(to Adrian) Here is everything advantageous to life.
ANTONIO	(to Sebastian) True, save means to live.
SEBASTIAN	Of that there’s none, or little.
GONZALO	(to Adrian) How lush and lusty the grass looks! How green!
ANTONIO	The ground indeed is tawny.
SEABASTIAN	With an eye of green in’t.
ANTONIO	He misses not much.
SEBASTIAN	No, he doth but mistake the truth totally.
GONZALO	(to Adrian) But the rarity of it is, which is indeed almost beyond credit—
SEBASTIAN	(to Antonio) As many vouched rarities are.
GONZALO	(to Adrian) That our garments being, as they were, drenched in the sea, hold notwithstanding their freshness and glosses, being rather new-dyed than stained with salt water.
ANTONIO	(to Sebastian) If but one of his pockets could speak, would it not say he lies?
SEBASTIAN	Ay, or very falsely pocket up his report.
GONZALO	(to Adrian) Methinks our garments are now as fresh as when we put them on first in Afric, at the marriage of the King’s fair daughter Claribel to the King of Tunis.
SEBASTIAN	’Twas a sweet marriage, and we prosper well in our return.
ADRIAN	Tunis was never graced before with such a paragon to their queen.
GONZALO	Not since widow Dido’s time.
ANTONIO	(to Sebastian) Widow? A pox o‘that! How came that ‘widow’ in? Widow Dido!
SEBASTIAN	What if he had said ‘widower Aeneas’ too? Good Lord, how you take it!
ADRIAN	(to Gonzalo) ‘Widow Dido’ said you? You make me study of that: she was of Carthage, not of Tunis.
GONZALO	This Tunis, sir, was Carthage.
ADRIAN	Carthage?
GONZALO	I assure you, Carthage.
ANTONIO	(to Sebastian) His word is more than the miraculous harp.
SEBASTIAN	He hath raised the wall, and houses too.
ANTONIO	What impossible matter will he make easy next?
SEBASTIAN	I think he will carry this island home in his pocket, and give it his son for an apple.
ANTONIO	And sowing the kernels of it in the sea, bring forth more islands.
GONZALO	(to Adrian) Ay.
ANTONIO	(to Sebastian) Why, in good time.
GONZALO	(to Alonso) 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.
ANTONIO	And the rarest that e’er came there.
SEBASTIAN	Bate, I beseech you, widow Dido.
ANTONIO	O, widow Dido? Ay, widow Dido.
GONZALO	(to Alonso) Is not, sir, my doublet as fresh as the first day I wore it? I mean in a sort.
ANTONIO	(to Sebastian) That ‘sort’ was well fished for.
GONZALO	(to Alonso) When I wore it at your daughter’s marriage.
ALONSO	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. O thou mine heir Of Naples and of Milan, what strange fish Hath made his meal on thee?
FRANCISCO	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 swoll‘n, that met him. His bold head ’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.
ALONSO	No, no; he’s gone.
SEBASTIAN	(to Alonso) Sir, you may thank yourself for this great loss, That would not bless our Europe with your daughter, But rather loose her to an African, Where she, at least, is banished from your eye, Who hath cause to wet the grief on’t.
ALONSO	Prithee, peace.
SEBASTIAN	You were kneeled to and importuned otherwise By all of us, and the fair soul herself Weighed between loathness and obedience at Which end o’th’ beam should bow. We have lost your son, I fear, for ever. Milan and Naples have More widows in them of this business’ making Than we bring men to comfort them. The fault’s your own.
ALONSO	So is the dear‘st o’th’ loss.
GONZALO	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.
SEBASTIAN	(to Antonio) Very well.
ANTONIO	And most chirurgeonly.
GONZALO	(to Alonso) It is foul weather in us all, good sir, When you are cloudy.
SEBASTIAN	(to Antonio) Fowl weather?
ANTONIO	Very foul.
GONZALO	(to Alonso) Had I plantation of this isle, my lord—
ANTONIO	(to Seabastian) He’d sow’t with nettle-seed.
SEBASTIAN	Or docks, or mallows.
GONZALO	And were the king on’t, what would I do?
SEBASTIAN	(to Antonio) Scape being drunk, for want of wine.
GONZALO	I’th’ commonwealth I would by contraries Execute all things. For no kind of traffic Would I admit, no name of magistrate; Letters should not be known; riches, poverty, And use of service, none; contract, succession, Bourn, bound of land, tilth, vineyard, none; No use of metal, corn, or wine, or oil; No occupation, all men idle, all; And women too—but innocent and pure; No sovereignty—
SEBASTIAN	(to Antonio) Yet he would be king on’t.
ANTONIO	The latter end of his commonwealth forgets the beginning.
GONZALO	(to Alonso) All things in common nature should produce Without sweat or endeavour. Treason, felony, Sword, pike, knife, gun, or need of any engine, Would I not have; but nature should bring forth Of it own kind all foison, all abundance, To feed my innocent people.
SEBASTIAN	(to Antonio) No marrying ’mong his subjects?
ANTONIO	None, man, all idle: whores and knaves.
GONZALO	(to Alonso) I would with such perfection govern, sir, T’excel the Golden Age.
SEBASTIAN	Save his majesty!
ANTONIO	Long live Gonzalol
GONZALO	(to Alonso) And—do you mark me, sir?
ALONSO	Prithee, no more. Thou dost talk nothing to me.
GONZALO	I do well believe your highness, and did it to minister occasion to these gentlemen, who are of such sensible and nimble lungs that they always use to laugh at nothing.
ANTONIO	’Twas you we laughed at.
GONZALO	Who, in this kind of merry fooling, am nothing to you. So you may continue, and laugh at nothing still.
ANTONIO	What a blow was there given!
SEBASTIAN	An it had not fallen flat-long.
GONZALO	You are gentlemen of brave mettle. You would lift the moon out of her sphere, if she would continue in it five weeks without changing.
(didascalia)	Enter Ariel, invisible, playing solemn music
SEBASTIAN	We would so, and then go a-bat-fowling.
ANTONIO	(to Gonzalo) Nay, good my lord, be not angry.
GONZALO	No, I warrant you, I will not adventure my discretion so weakly. Will you laugh me asleep? For I am very heavy.
ANTONIO	Go sleep, and hear us. Gonzalo, Adrian, and Francisco sleep
ALONSO	What, all so soon asleep? I wish mine eyes Would, with themselves, shut up my thoughts.—I find They are inclined to do so.
SEBASTIAN	Please you, sir, Do not omit the heavy offer of it. It seldom visits sorrow; when it doth, It is a comforter.
ANTONIO	We two, my lord, Will guard your person while you take your rest, And watch your safety.
ALONSO	Thank you. Wondrous heavy.
(didascalia)	He sleeps. Exit Ariel
SEBASTIAN	What a strange drowsiness possesses them!
ANTONIO	It is the quality o’th’ climate.
SEBASTIAN	Why Doth it not then our eyelids sink? I find Not myself disposed to sleep.
ANTONIO	Nor I; my spirits are nimble. They fell together all, as by consent; They dropped as by a thunderstroke. What might, Worthy Sebastian, O, what might—? No more!— And yet methinks I see it in thy face. What thou shouldst be th’occasion speaks thee, and My strong imagination sees a crown Dropping upon thy head.
SEBASTIAN	What, art thou waking?
ANTONIO	Do you not hear me speak?
SEBASTIAN	I do, and surely It is a sleepy language, and thou speak’st Out of thy sleep. What is it thou didst say? This is a strange repose, to be asleep With eyes wide open; standing, speaking, moving, And yet so fast asleep.
ANTONIO	Noble Sebastian, Thou letst thy fortune sleep, die rather; wink’st Whiles thou art waking.
SEBASTIAN	Thou dost snore distinctly; There’s meaning in thy snores.
ANTONIO	I am more serious than my custom. You Must be so too if heed me, which to do Trebles thee o’er.
SEBASTIAN	Well, I am standing water.
ANTONIO	I’ll teach you how to flow.
SEBASTIAN	Do so; to ebb Hereditary sloth instructs me.
ANTONIO	O, If you but knew how you the purpose cherish Whiles thus you mock it; how in stripping it You more invest it! Ebbing men, indeed, Most often do so near the bottom run By their own fear or sloth.
SEBASTIAN	Prithee, say on. The setting of thine eye and cheek proclaim A matter from thee, and a birth, indeed, Which throes thee much to yield.
ANTONIO	Thus, sir. Although this lord of weak remembrance, this, Who shall be of as little memory When he is earthed, hath here almost persuaded— For he’s a spirit of persuasion, only Professes to persuade—the King his son’s alive, ’Tis as impossible that he’s undrowned As he that sleeps here swims.
SEBASTIAN	I have no hope That he’s undrowned.
ANTONIO	O, out of that ‘no hope’ What great hope have you! No hope that way is Another way so high a hope that even Ambition cannot pierce a wink beyond, But doubt discovery there. Will you grant with me That Ferdinand is drowned?
SEBASTIAN	He’s gone.
ANTONIO	Then tell me, Who’s the next heir of Naples?
SEBASTIAN	Claribel.
ANTONIO	She that is Queen of Tunis; she that dwells Ten leagues beyond man’s life; she that from Naples Can have no note—unless the sun were post— The man i’th’ moon’s too slow—till new-born chins Be rough and razorable; she that from whom We all were sea-swallowed, though some cast again— And by that destiny, to perform an act Whereof what’s past is prologue, what to come In yours and my discharge.
SEBASTIAN	What stuff is this? How say you? ‘Tis true my brother’s daughter’s Queen of Tunis; So is she heir of Naples; ’twixt which regions There is some space.
ANTONIO	A space whose every cubit Seems to cry out ‘How shall that Claribel Measure us back to Naples? Keep in Tunis, And let Sebastian wake.’ Say this were death That now hath seized them; why, they were no worse Than now they are. There be that can rule Naples As well as he that sleeps, lords that can prate As amply and unnecessarily As this Gonzalo; I myself could make A chough of as deep chat. O, that you bore The mind that I do, what a sleep were this For your advancement! Do you understand me?
SEBASTIAN	Methinks I do.
ANTONIO	And how does your content Tender your own good fortune?
SEBASTIAN	I remember You did supplant your brother Prospero.
ANTONIO	True; And look how well my garments sit upon me, Much feater than before. My brother’s servants Were then my fellows; now they are my men.
SEBASTIAN	But for your conscience.
ANTONIO	Ay, sir, where lies that? If ‘twere a kibe ’Twould put me to my slipper; but I feel not This deity in my bosom. Twenty consciences That stand ’twixt me and Milan, candied be they, And melt ere they molest. Here lies your brother, No better than the earth he lies upon If he were that which now he’s like—that’s dead; Whom I with this obedient steel, three inches of it, Can lay to bed for ever; whiles you, doing thus, To the perpetual wink for aye might put This ancient morsel, this Sir Prudence, who Should not upbraid our course. For all the rest, They’ll take suggestion as a cat laps milk; They’ll tell the clock to any business that We say befits the hour.
SEBASTIAN	Thy case, dear friend, Shall be my precedent. As thou got’st Milan, I’ll come by Naples. Draw thy sword. One stroke Shall free thee from the tribute which thou payest, And I the King shall love thee.
ANTONIO	Draw together, And when I rear my hand, do you the like To fall it on Gonzalo. They draw
SEBASTIAN	O, but one word.
(didascalia)	Enter Ariel, invisible, with music
ARIEL	(to Gonzalo) My master through his art foresees the danger That you his friend are in—and sends me forth, For else his project dies, to keep them living. He sings in Gonzalo’s ear While you here do snoring lie, Open-eyed conspiracy His time doth take. If of life you keep a care, Shake off slumber, and beware. Awake, awake!
ANTONIO	(to Sebastian) Then let us both be sudden.
GONZALO	(awaking) Now good angels Preserve the King!
ALONSO	(awaking) Why, how now? Ho, awake! The others awake (To Antonio and Sebastian) Why are you drawn? (To Gonzalo) Wherefore this ghastly looking?
GONZALO	What’s the matter?
SEBASTIAN	Whiles we stood here securing your repose, Even now we heard a hollow burst of bellowing, Like bulls, or rather lions. Did’t not wake you? It struck mine ear most terribly.
ALONSO	I heard nothing.
ANTONIO	O, ’twas a din to fright a monster’s ear, To make an earthquake! Sure it was the roar Of a whole herd of lions.
ALONSO	Heard you this, Gonzalo?
GONZALO	Upon mine honour, sir, I heard a humming, And that a strange one too, which did awake me. I shaked you, sir, and cried. As mine eyes opened I saw their weapons drawn. There was a noise, That’s verily. ’Tis best we stand upon our guard, Or that we quit this place. Let’s draw our weapons.
ALONSO	Lead off this ground, and let’s make further search For my poor son.
GONZALO	Heavens keep him from these beasts! For he is sure i’th’ island.
ALONSO	Lead away.
(didascalia)	Exeunt all but Ariel
ARIEL	Prospero my lord shall know what I have done. So, King, go safely on to seek thy son.
(didascalia)	Exit
ARIEL	2.2 Enter Caliban, wearing a gaberdine, and with a burden of wood
(didascalia)	CALIBAN throwing down his burden
ARIEL	All the infections that the sun sucks up From bogs, fens, flats, on Prosper fall, and make him By inch-meal a disease!
(didascalia)	A noise of thunder heard
ARIEL	His spirits hear me, And yet I needs must curse. But they’ll nor pinch, Fright me with urchin-shows, pitch me i’th’ mire, Nor lead me like a fire-brand in the dark Out of my way, unless he bid ’em. But For every trifle are they set upon me; Sometime like apes, that mow and chatter at me And after bite me; then like hedgehogs, which Lie tumbling in my barefoot way and mount Their pricks at my footfall; sometime am I All wound with adders, who with cloven tongues Do hiss me into madness.
(didascalia)	Enter Trinculo
ARIEL	Lo now, lo! Here comes a spirit of his, and to torment me For bringing wood in slowly. I’ll fall flat. Perchance he will not mind me. He lies down
TRINCULO	Here’s neither bush nor shrub to bear off any weather at all, and another storm brewing. I hear it sing i‘th’ wind. Yon same black cloud, yon huge one, looks like a foul bombard that would shed his liquor. If it should thunder as it did before, I know not where to hide my head. Yon same cloud cannot choose but fall by pailfuls. (Seeing Caliban) What have we here, a man or a fish? Dead or alive?—A fish, he smells like a fish; a very ancient and fish-like smell; a kind of not-of-the-newest poor-john. A strange fish! Were I in England now, as once I was, and had but this fish painted, not a holiday-fool there but would give a piece of silver. There would this monster make a man. Any strange beast there makes a man. When they will not give a doit to relieve a lame beggar, they will lay out ten to see a dead Indian. Legged like a man, and his fins like arms! Warm, o’my troth! I do now let loose my opinion, hold it no longer. This is no fish, but an islander that hath lately suffered by a thunderbolt.
(didascalia)	Thunder
TRINCULO	Alas, the storm is come again. My best way is to creep under his gaberdine; there is no other shelter hereabout. Misery acquaints a man with strange bedfellows. I will here shroud till the dregs of the storm be past. He hides under Caliban’s gaberdine. Enter Stefano, singing, with a wooden bottle in his hand
STEFANO	I shall no more to sea, to sea, Here shall I die ashore— This is a very scurvy tune to sing at a man’s funeral. Well, here’s my comfort. He drinks, then sings The master, the swabber, the boatswain, and I, 45 The gunner and his mate, Loved Mall, Meg, and Marian, and Margery, But none of us cared for Kate. For she had a tongue with a tang, Would cry to a sailor ‘Go hang!’ She loved not the savour of tar nor of pitch, Yet a tailor might scratch her where’er she did itch. Then to sea, boys, and let her go hang! Then to sea, etc. This is a scurvy tune, too. But here’s my comfort. He drinks
CALIBAN	(to Trinculo) Do not torment me! O!
STEFANO	What’s the matter? Have we devils here? Do you put tricks upon’s with savages and men of Ind, ha? I have not scaped drowning to be afeard now of your four legs. For it hath been said: ‘As proper a man as ever went on four legs cannot make him give ground.’ And it shall be said so again, while Stefano breathes at’ nostrils.
CALIBAN	The spirit torments me. O!
STEFANO	This is some monster of the isle with four legs, who hath got, as I take it, an ague. Where the devil should he learn our language? I will give him some relief, if it be but for that. If I can recover him and keep him tame and get to Naples with him, he’s a present for any emperor that ever trod on neat’s leather.
CALIBAN	(to Trinculo) Do not torment me, prithee! I’ll bring my wood home faster.
STEFANO	He’s in his fit now, and does not talk after the wisest. He shall taste of my bottle. If he have never drunk wine afore, it will go near to remove his fit. If I can recover him and keep him tame, I will not take too much for him. He shall pay for him that hath him, and that soundly.
CALIBAN	(to Trinculo) Thou dost me yet but little hurt. Thou wilt anon, I know it by thy trembling. Now Prosper works upon thee.
STEFANO	Come on your ways. Open your mouth. Here is that which will give language to you, cat. Open your mouth. This will shake your shaking, I can tell you, and that soundly. You cannot tell who’s your friend. Open your chaps again. Caliban drinks
TRINCULO	I should know that voice. It should be—but he is drowned, and these are devils. O, defend me!
STEFANO	Four legs and two voices—a most delicate monster! His forward voice now is to speak well of his friend; his backward voice is to utter foul speeches and to detract. If all the wine in my bottle will recover him, I will help his ague. Come. Caliban drinks Amen. I will pour some in thy other mouth.
TRINCULO	Stefano!
STEFANO	Doth thy other mouth call me? Mercy, mercy! This is a devil, and no monster. I will leave him. I have no long spoon.
TRINCULO	Stefano! If thou beest Stefano, touch me and speak to me, for I am Trinculo. Be not afeard. Thy good friend Trinculo.
STEFANO	If thou beest Trinculo, come forth. I’ll pull thee by the lesser legs. If any be Trinculo’s legs, these are they. He pulls out Trinculo by the legs Thou art very Trinculo indeed! How cam’st thou to be the siege of this moon-calf? Can he vent Trinculos?
TRINCULO	(rising) I took him to be killed with a thunderstroke. But art thou not drowned, Stefano? I hope now thou art not drowned. Is the storm overblown? I hid me under the dead moon-calf’s gaberdine for fear of the storm. And art thou living, Stefano? O Stefano, two Neapolitans scaped!
(didascalia)	He dances Stefano round
STEFANO	Prithee, do not turn me about. My stomach is not constant.
CALIBAN	These be fine things, an if they be not spirits. That’s a brave god, and bears celestial liquor. I will kneel to him.
(didascalia)	He kneels
STEFANO	(to Trinculo) How didst thou scape? How cam’st thou hither? Swear by this bottle how thou cam’st hither. I escaped upon a butt of sack which the sailors heaved o’erboard, by this bottle—which I made of the bark of a tree with mine own hands since I was cast ashore.
CALIBAN	I’ll swear upon that bottle to be thy true subject, for the liquor is not earthly.
STEFANO	(offering Trinculo the bottle) Here. Swear then how thou escapedst.
TRINCULO	Swum ashore, man, like a duck. I can swim like a duck, I’ll be sworn.
STEFANO	Here, kiss the book. Trinculo drinks Though thou canst swim like a duck, thou art made like a goose.
TRINCULO	O Stefano, hast any more of this?
STEFANO	The whole butt, man. My cellar is in a rock by th’ seaside, where my wine is hid.
(didascalia)	Caliban rises
STEFANO	How now, moon-calf? How does thine ague?
CALIBAN	Hast thou not dropped from heaven?
STEFANO	Out o’th’ moon, I do assure thee. I was the man i’th’ moon when time was.
CALIBAN	I have seen thee in her, and I do adore thee. My mistress showed me thee, and thy dog and thy bush.
STEFANO	Come, swear to that. Kiss the book. I will furnish it anon with new contents. Swear. Caliban drinks
TRINCULO	By this good light, this is a very shallow monster! I afeard of him? A very weak monster! The man i’th’ moon? A most poor, credulous monster! Well drawn, monster, in good sooth!
CALIBAN	(to Stefano) I’ll show thee every fertile inch o’th’ island, And I will kiss thy foot. I prithee, be my god.
TRINCULO	By this light, a most perfidious and drunken monster! When’s god’s asleep, he’ll rob his bottle.
CALIBAN	(to Stefano) I’ll kiss thy foot. I’ll swear myself thy subject.
STEFANO	Come on then; down, and swear.
(didascalia)	Caliban kneels
TRINCULO	I shall laugh myself to death at this puppy-headed monster. A most scurvy monster! I could find in my heart to beat him—
STEFANO	(to Caliban) Come, kiss.
(didascalia)	Caliban kisses his foot
TRINCULO	But that the poor monster’s in drink. An abominable monster!
CALIBAN	I’ll show thee the best springs; I’ll pluck thee berries; I’ll fish for thee, and get thee wood enough. A plague upon the tyrant that I serve! I’ll bear him no more sticks, but follow thee, Thou wondrous man.
TRINCULO	A most ridiculous monster, to make a wonder of a poor drunkard!
CALIBAN	(to Stefano) I prithee, let me bring thee where crabs grow, And I with my long nails will dig thee pig-nuts, Show thee a jay’s nest, and instruct thee how To snare the nimble marmoset. I’ll bring thee To clust’ring filberts, and sometimes I’ll get thee Young seamews from the rock. Wilt thou go with me?
STEFANO	I prithee now, lead the way without any more talking.—Trinculo, the King and all our company else being drowned, we will inherit here.—Here, bear my bottte.—Fettow Trinculo, we’ll fill him by and by again.
CALIBAN	(sings drunkenly) Farewell, master, farewell, farewell!
TRINCULO	A howling monster, a drunken monster!
CALIBAN	(sings) No more dams I’ll make for fish, Nor fetch in firing At requiring, Nor scrape trenchering, nor wash dish. ’Ban, ’ban, Cacaliban Has a new master.—Get a new man! Freedom, high-day! High-day, freedom! Freedom, highday, freedom!
STEFANO	O brave monster! Lead the way.
(didascalia)	Exeunt

Atto 3, Scena 1

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Enter Ferdinand, bearing a log
FERDINAND	There be some sports are painful, and their labour Delight in them sets off. Some kinds of baseness Are nobly undergone, and most poor matters Point to rich ends. This my mean task Would be as heavy to me as odious, but The mistress which I serve quickens what’s dead, And makes my labours pleasures. O, she is Ten times more gentle than her father’s crabbed, And he’s composed of harshness. I must remove Some thousands of these logs and pile them up, Upon a sore injunction. My sweet mistress Weeps when she sees me work, and says such baseness Had never like executor. I forget, But these sweet thoughts do even refresh my labours, Most busil’est when I do it.
(didascalia)	Enter Miranda, and Prospero following at a distance
MIRANDA	Alas now, pray you Work not so hard. I would the lightning had Burnt up those logs that you are enjoined to pile. Pray set it down, and rest you. When this burns ’Twill weep for having wearied you. My father Is hard at study. Pray now, rest yourself. He’s safe for these three hours.
FERDINAND	O most dear mistress, The sun will set before I shall discharge What I must strive to do.
MIRANDA	If you’ll sit down I’ll bear your logs the while. Pray give me that; I’ll carry it to the pile.
FERDINAND	No, precious creature. I had rather crack my sinews, break my back, Than you should such dishonour undergo While I sit lazy by.
MIRANDA	It would become me As well as it does you; and I should do it With much more ease, for my good will is to it, And yours it is against.
PROSPERO	(aside) Poor worm, thou art infected. This visitation shows it.
MIRANDA	(to Ferdinand) You look wearily.
FERDINAND	No, noble mistress, ’tis fresh morning with me When you are by at night. I do beseech you, Chiefly that I might set it in my prayers, What is your name?
MIRANDA	Miranda. O my father, I have broke your best to say so!
FERDINAND	Admired Miranda! Indeed the top of admiration, worth What’s dearest to the world. Full many a lady I have eyed with best regard, and many a time Th’harmony of their tongues hath into bondage Brought my too diligent ear. For several virtues Have I liked several women; never any With so full soul but some defect in her Did quarrel with the noblest grace she owed And put it to the foil. But you, O you, So perfect and so peerless, are created Of every creature’s best.
MIRANDA	I do not know One of my sex, no woman’s face remember Save from my glass mine own; nor have I seen More that I may call men than you, good friend, And my dear father. How features are abroad I am skilless of; but, by my modesty, The jewel in my dower, I would not wish Any companion in the world but you; Nor can imagination form a shape Besides yourself to like of. But I prattle Something too wildly, and my father’s precepts I therein do forget.
FERDINAND	I am in my condition A prince, Miranda, I do think a king— I would not so—and would no more endure This wooden slavery than to suffer The flesh-fly blow my mouth. Hear my soul speak. The very instant that I saw you did My heart fly to your service; there resides To make me slave to it. And for your sake Am I this patient log-man.
MIRANDA	Do you love me?
FERDINAND	O heaven, O earth, bear witness to this sound, And crown what I profess with kind event If I speak true! If hollowly, invert What best is boded me to mischief! Beyond all limit of what else i’th’ world, Do love, prize, honour you.
MIRANDA	(weeping) I am a fool To weep at what I am glad of.
PROSPERO	(aside) Fair encounter Of two most rare affections! Heavens rain grace On that which breeds between ’em.
FERDINAND	(to Miranda) Wherefore weep you?
MIRANDA	At mine unworthiness, that dare not offer What I desire to give, and much less take What I shall die to want. But this is trifling, And all the more it seeks to hide itself The bigger bulk it shows. Hence, bashful cunning, And prompt me, plain and holy innocence. I am your wife, if you will marry me. If not, I’ll die your maid. To be your fellow You may deny me, but I’ll be your servant Whether you will or no.
(didascalia)	FERDINAND kneeling
MIRANDA	My mistress, dearest; And I thus humble ever.
MIRANDA	My husband then?
FERDINAND	Ay, with a heart as willing As bondage e’er of freedom. Here’s my hand.
MIRANDA	And mine, with my heart in’t. And now farewell Till half an hour hence.
FERDINAND	A thousand thousand.
(didascalia)	Exeunt severally Miranda and Ferdinand
PROSPERO	So glad of this as they I cannot be, Who are surprised with all; but my rejoicing At nothing can be more. I’ll to my book, For yet ere supper-time must I perform Much business appertaining.
(didascalia)	Exit

Atto 3, Scena 2

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Enter Caliban, Stefano, and Trinculo
STEFANO	(to Caliban) Tell not me. When the butt is out we will drink water, not a drop before. Therefore bear up and board ’em. Servant monster, drink to me.
TRINCULO	Servant monster? The folly of this island! They say there’s but five upon this isle. We are three of them; if th’other two be brained like us, the state totters.
STEFANO	Drink, servant monster, when I bid thee. Thy eyes are almost set in thy head.
TRINCULO	Where should they be set else? He were a brave monster indeed if they were set in his tail.
STEFANO	My man-monster hath drowned his tongue in sack. For my part, the sea cannot drown me. I swam, ere I could recover the shore, five and thirty leagues, off and on. By this light, thou shalt be my lieutenant, monster, or my standard.
TRINCULO	Your lieutenant if you list; he’s no standard.
STEFANO	We’ll not run, Monsieur Monster.
TRINCULO	Nor go neither; but you’ll lie like dogs, and yet say nothing neither.
STEFANO	Moon-calf, speak once in thy life, if thou beest a good moon-calf.
CALIBAN	How does thy honour? Let me lick thy shoe. I’ll not serve him; he is not valiant.
TRINCULO	Thou liest, most ignorant monster! I am in case to jostle a constable. Why, thou debauched fish, thou, was there ever man a coward that hath drunk so much sack as I today? Wilt thou tell a monstrous lie, being but half a fish and half a monster?
CALIBAN	(to Stefano) Lo, how he mocks me! Wilt thou let him, my lord?
TRINCULO	‘Lord’ quoth he? That a monster should be such a natural!
CALIBAN	(to Stefano) Lo, lo, again! Bite him to death, I prithee.
STEFANO	Trinculo, keep a good tongue in your head. If you prove a mutineer, the next tree. The poor monster’s my subject, and he shall not suffer indignity.
CALIBAN	I thank my noble lord. Wilt thou be pleased To hearken once again to the suit I made to thee?
STEFANO	Marry, will I. Kneel and repeat it. I will stand, and so shall Trinculo.
(didascalia)	Caliban kneels.
(didascalia)	Enter Ariel, invisible
CALIBAN	As I told thee before, I am subject to a tyrant, a sorcerer, that by his cunning hath cheated me of the island.
ARIEL	Thou liest.
CALIBAN	(to Trinculo) Thou liest, thou jesting monkey, thou. I would my valiant master would destroy thee. I do not lie.
STEFANO	Trinculo, if you trouble him any more in’s tale, by this hand, I will supplant some of your teeth.
TRINCULO	Why, I said nothing.
STEFANO	Mum, then, and no more. (To Caliban) Proceed.
CALIBAN	I say by sorcery he got this isle; From me he got it. If thy greatness will Revenge it on him—for I know thou dar’st, But this thing dare not—
STEFANO	That’s most certain.
CALIBAN	Thou shalt be lord of it, and I’ll serve thee.
STEFANO	How now shall this be compassed? Canst thou bring me to the party?
CALIBAN	Yea, yea, my lord. I’ll yield him thee asleep Where thou mayst knock a nail into his head.
ARIEL	Thou liest, thou canst not.
CALIBAN	What a pied ninny’s thisl (To Tririculo) Thou scurvy patch! (To Stefano) I do beseech thy greatness give him blows, And take his bottle from him. When that’s gone He shall drink naught but brine, for I’ll not show him Where the quick freshes are.
STEFANO	Trinculo, run into no further danger. Interrupt the monster one word further, and, by this hand, I’ll turn my mercy out o’doors and make a stockfish of thee.
TRINCULO	Why, what did I? I did nothing. I’ll go farther off.
STEFANO	Didst thou not say he lied?
ARIEL	Thou liest.
STEFANO	Do I so? (Striking Trinculo) Take thou that. As you like this, give me the lie another time.
TRINCULO	I did not give the lie. Out o‘your wits and hearing too? A pox o’your bottle! This can sack and drinking do. A murrain on your monster, and the devil take your fingers.
CALIBAN	Ha, ha, ha!
STEFANO	Now forward with your tale. (To Trinculo) Prithee, stand further off.
CALIBAN	Beat him enough; after a little time I’ll beat him too.
STEFANO	(to Trinculo) Stand farther. (To Caliban) Come, proceed.
CALIBAN	Why, as I told thee, ’tis a custom with him I’th’ afternoon to sleep. There thou mayst brain him, Having first seized his books; or with a log Batter his skull, or paunch him with a stake, Or cut his weasand with thy knife. Remember First to possess his books, for without them He’s but a sot as I am, nor hath not One spirit to command—they all do hate him As rootedly as I. Burn but his books. He has brave utensils, for so he calls them, Which when he has a house he’ll deck withal. And that most deeply to consider is The beauty of his daughter. He himself Calls her a nonpareil. I never saw a woman But only Sycorax my dam and she, But she as far surpasseth Sycorax As great’st does least.
STEFANO	Is it so brave a lass?
CALIBAN	Ay, lord. She will become thy bed, I warrant, And bring thee forth brave brood.
STEFANO	Monster, I will kill this man. His daughter and I will be king and queen—save our graces!—and Trinculo and thyself shall be viceroys. Dost thou like the plot, Trinculo? no
TRINCULO	Excellent.
STEFANO	Give me thy hand. I am sorry I beat thee. But while thou liv’st, keep a good tongue in thy head.
(didascalia)	Within this half hour will he be asleep.
CALIBAN	Wilt thou destroy him then?
STEFANO	Ay, on mine honour.
ARIEL	(aside) This will I tell my master.
CALIBAN	Thou mak’st me merry; I am full of pleasure. Let us be jocund. Will you troll the catch You taught me but while-ere?
STEFANO	At thy request, monster, I will do reason, any reason.—Come on, Trinculo, let us sing. (Sings) Flout ’em and cout ’em, And scout ’em and flout ’em. Thought is free.
CALIBAN	That’s not the tune. Ariel plays the tune on a tabor and pipe
STEFANO	What is this same?
TRINCULO	This is the tune of our catch, played by the picture of Nobody.
STEFANO	(calls towards Ariel) If thou beest a man, show thyself in thy likeness. If thou beest a devil, take’t as thou list.
TRINCULO	O, forgive me my sins!
STEFANO	He that dies pays all debts. (Calls) I defy thee.—Mercy upon us!
CALIBAN	Art thou afeard?
STEFANO	No, monster, not I.
CALIBAN	Be not afeard. The isle is full of noises,
(didascalia)	Sounds, and sweet airs, that give delight and hurt
CALIBAN	not. Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments Will hum about mine ears, and sometime voices That if I then had waked after long sleep Will make me sleep again; and then in dreaming The clouds methought would open and show riches Ready to drop upon me, that when I waked I cried to dream again.
STEFANO	This will prove a brave kingdom to me, where I shall have my music for nothing.
CALIBAN	When Prospero is destroyed.
STEFANO	That shall be by and by. I remember the story.
(didascalia)	Exit Ariel, playing music
TRINCULO	The sound is going away. Let’s follow it, and after do our work.
STEFANO	Lead, monster; we’ll follow.—I would I could see this taborer. He lays it on.
TRICULO	(to Caliban) Wilt come? I’ll follow Stefano.
(didascalia)	Exeunt

Atto 3, Scena 3

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Enter Alonso, Sebastian, Antonio, Gonzalo, Adrian, and Francisco
GONZALO	(to Alonso) By’r la’kin, I can go no further, sir. My old bones ache. Here’s a maze trod indeed Through forthrights and meanders. By your patience, I needs must rest me.
ALONSO	Old lord, I cannot blame thee, Who am myself attached with weariness To th’ dulling of my spirits. Sit down and rest. Even here I will put off my hope, and keep it No longer for my flatterer. He is drowned Whom thus we stray to find, and the sea mocks Our frustrate search on land. Well, let him go.
(didascalia)	They sit
ANTONIO	(aside to Sebastian) I am right glad that he’s so out of hope. Do not for one repulse forgo the purpose That you resolved t’effect.
SEBASTIAN	(aside to Antonio) The next advantage Will we take throughly.
ANTONIO	(aside to Sebastian) Let it be tonight, For now they are oppressed with travel. They Will not nor cannot use such vigilance As when they are fresh.
SEBASTIAN	(aside to Antonio) I say tonight. No more. Solemn and strange music. Enter Prospero on the top, invisible
ALONSO	What harmony is this? My good friends, hark.
GONZALO	Marvellous sweet music.
(didascalia)	Enter spirits, in several strange shapes, bringing in a table and a banquet, and dance about it with gentle actions of salutations, and, inviting the King and his companions to eat, they depart
ALONSO	Give us kind keepers, heavens! What were these?
SEBASTIAN	A living drollery. Now I will believe That there are unicorns; that in Arabia There is one tree, the phoenix’ throne, one phoenix At this hour reigning there.
ANTONIO	I’ll believe both; And what does else want credit come to me, And I’ll be sworn ’tis true. Travellers ne’er did lie, Though fools at home condemn ’em.
GONZALO	If in Naples I should report this now, would they believe me— If I should say I saw such islanders? For certes these are people of the island, Who though they are of monstrous shape, yet note Their manners are more gentle-kind than of Our human generation you shall find Many, nay, almost any.
PROSPERO	(aside) Honest lord, Thou hast said well, for some of you there present Are worse than devils.
ALONSO	I cannot too much muse. Such shapes, such gesture, and such sound, expressing— Although they want the use of tongue—a kind Of excellent dumb discourse.
PROSPERO	(aside) Praise in departing.
FRANCISCO	They vanished strangely.
SEBASTIAN	No matter, since They have left their viands behind, for we have stomachs. Will’t please you taste of what is here?
ALONSO	Not I.
GONZALO	Faith, sir, you need not fear. When we were boys, Who would believe that there were mountaineers Dewlapped like bulls, whose throats had hanging at ’em Wallets of flesh? Or that there were such men Whose heads stood in their breasts? Which now we find Each putter-out of five for one will bring us Good warrant of.
(didascalia)	ALONSO rising I will stand to and feed,
GONZALO	Although my last—no matter, since I feel The best is past. Brother, my lord the Duke, Stand to, and do as we.
(didascalia)	Alonso, Sebastian, and Antonio approach the table. Thunder and lightning. Ariel descends like a harpy, claps his wings upon the table, and, with a quaint device, the banquet vanishes
ARIEL	You are three men of sin, whom destiny— That hath to instrument this lower world And what is in’t—the never-surfeited sea Hath caused to belch up you, and on this island Where man doth not inhabit, you ’mongst men Being most unfit to live. I have made you mad, And even with suchlike valour men hang and drown Their proper selves. Alonso, Sebastian, and Antonio draw You fools! I and my fellows Are ministers of fate. The elements Of whom your swords are tempered may as well Wound the loud winds, or with bemocked-at stabs Kill the still-closing waters, as diminish One dowl that’s in my plume. My fellow ministers Are like invulnerable. If you could hurt, Your swords are now too massy for your strengths And will not be uplifted. Alonso, Sebastian, and Antonio stand amazed But remember, For that’s my business to you, that you three From Milan did supplant good Prospero; Exposed unto the sea, which hath requit it, Him and his innocent child; for which foul deed, The powers, delaying not forgetting, have Incensed the seas and shores, yea, all the creatures, Against your peace. Thee of thy son, Alonso, They have bereft, and do pronounce by me Ling’ring perdition—worse than any death Can be at once—shatt step by step attend You and your ways; whose wraths to guard you from— Which here in this most desolate isle else falls Upon your heads—is nothing but heart’s sorrow And a clear life ensuing.
(didascalia)	He ascends and vanishes in thunder. Then, to soft music, enter the spirits again, and dance with mocks and mows, and they depart, carrying out the table
PROSPERO	Bravely the figure of this harpy hast thou Performed, my Ariel; a grace it had devouring. Of my instruction hast thou nothing bated In what thou hadst to say. So with good life And observation strange my meaner ministers Their several kinds have done. My high charms work, And these mine enemies are all knit up In their distractions. They now are in my power; And in these fits I leave them, while I visit Young Ferdinand, whom they suppose is drowned, And his and mine loved darling.
(didascalia)	Exit
(didascalia)	Gonzalo, Adrian, and Francisco go towards the others
GONZALO	I’th’ name of something holy, sir, why stand you In this strange stare?
ALONSO	O, it is monstrous, monstrous! Methought the billows spoke and told me of it, The winds did sing it to me, and the thunder, That deep and dreadful organ-pipe, pronounced The name of Prosper. It did bass my trespass. Therefor my son i’th’ ooze is bedded, and I’ll seek him deeper than e’er plummet sounded, And with him there lie mudded.
(didascalia)	Exit
SEBASTIAN	But one fiend at a time, I’ll fight their legions o’er.
ANTONIO	I’ll be thy second.
(didascalia)	Exeunt Sebastian and Antonio
GONZALO	All three of them are desperate. Their great guilt, Like poison given to work a great time after, Now ’gins to bite the spirits. I do beseech you That are of suppler joints, follow them swiftly, And hinder them from what this ecstasy May now provoke them to.
ADRIAN	Follow, I pray you. Exeunt

Atto 4, Scena 1

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Enter Prospero, Ferdinand, and Miranda
PROSPFRO	(to Ferdinand) If I have too austerely punished you, Your compensation makes amends, for I Have given you here a third of mine own tife— Or that for which I live—who once again I tender to thy hand. All thy vexations Were but my trials of thy love, and thou Hast strangely stood the test. Here, afore heaven, I ratify this my rich gift. O Ferdinand, Do not smile at me that I boast of her, For thou shalt find she will outstrip all praise, And make it halt behind her.
FERDINAND	I do believe it Against an oracle.
PROSPERO	Then, as my gift and thine own acquisition Worthily purchased, take my daughter. But If thou dost break her virgin-knot before All sanctimonious ceremonies may With full and holy rite be ministered, No sweet aspersion shall the heavens let fall To make this contract grow; but barren hate, Sour-eyed disdain, and discord, shall bestrew The union of your bed with weeds so loathly That you shall hate it both. Therefore take heed, As Hymen’s lamps shall light you.
FERDINAND	As I hope For quiet days, fair issue, and long life With such love as ’tis now, the murkiest den, The most opportune place, the strong’st suggestion Our worser genius can, shall never melt Mine honour into lust to take away The edge of that day’s celebration; When I shall think or Phoebus’ steeds are foundered Or night kept chained below.
PROSPERO	Fairly spoke. Sit, then, and talk with her. She is thine own. Ferdinand and Miranda sit and talk together What, Ariel, my industrious servant Ariel!
(didascalia)	Enter Ariel
ARIEL	What would my potent master? Here I am.
PROSPERO	Thou and thy meaner fellows your last service Did worthily perform, and I must use you In such another trick. Go bring the rabble, O’er whom I give thee power, here to this place. Incite them to quick motion, for I must Bestow upon the eyes of this young couple Some vanity of mine art. It is my promise, And they expect it from me.
ARIEL	Presently?
PROSPERO	Ay, with a twink.
ARIEL	Before you can say ‘Come’ and ‘Go’, And breathe twice, and cry ‘So, so’, Each one tripping on his toe Will be here with mop and mow. Do you love me, master? No?
PROSPERO	Dearly, my delicate Ariel. Do not approach Till thou dost hear me call.
ARIEL	Well; I conceive.
(didascalia)	Exit
PROSPERO	(to Ferdinand) Look thou be true. Do not give dalliance Too much the rein. The strongest oaths are straw To th’ fire i’th’ blood. Be more abstemious, Or else, good night your vow.
FERDINAND	I warrant you, sir, The white cold virgin snow upon my heart Abates the ardour of my liver.
PROSPERO	Well.— Now come, my Ariel! Bring a corollary Rather than want a spirit. Appear, and pertly. Soft music (To Ferdinand and Miranda) No tongue, all eyes! Be silent.
(didascalia)	Enter Iris
IRIS	Ceres, most bounteous lady, thy rich leas Of wheat, rye, barley, vetches, oats, and peas; Thy turfy mountains where live nibbling sheep, And flat meads thatched with stover, them to keep; Thy banks with peonied and twillèd brims Which spongy April at thy hest betrims To make cold nymphs chaste crowns; and thy broom-groves, Whose shadow the dismissed bachelor loves, Being lass-lorn; thy pole-clipped vineyard, And thy sea-marge, sterile and rocky-hard, Where thou thyself dost air: the Queen o’th’ Sky, Whose wat’ry arch and messenger am I, Bids thee leave these, and with her sovereign grace
(didascalia)	Juno appears in the air
IRIS	Here on this grass-plot, in this very place, To come and sport.—Her peacocks fly amain. Approach, rich Ceres, her to entertain.
(didascalia)	Enter Ariel as Ceres
CERES	Hail, many-coloured messenger, that ne’er Dost disobey the wife of Jupiter; Who with thy saffron wings upon my flowers Diffusest honey-drops, refreshing showers, And with each end of thy blue bow dost crown My bosky acres and my unshrubbed down, Rich scarf to my proud earth. Why hath thy queen Summoned me hither to this short-grassed green?
IRIS	A contract of true love to celebrate, And some donation freely to estate On the blest lovers.
CERES	Tell me, heavenly bow, If Venus or her son, as thou dost know, Do now attend the Queen. Since they did plot The means that dusky Dis my daughter got, Her and her blind boy’s scandalled company I have forsworn.
IRIS	Of her society Be not afraid. I met her deity Cutting the clouds towards Paphos, and her son Dove-drawn with her. Here thought they to have done Some wanton charm upon this man and maid, Whose vows are that no bed-right shall be paid Till Hymen’s torch be lighted—but in vain. Mars’s hot minion is returned again. Her waspish-headed son has broke his arrows, Swears he will shoot no more, but play with sparrows, And be a boy right out.
(didascalia)	Music. Juno descends to the stage
CERES	Highest queen of state, Great Juno, comes; I know her by her gait.
JUNO	How does my bounteous sister? Go with me To bless this twain, that they may prosperous be, And honoured in their issue.
(didascalia)	Ceres joins Juno, and they sing
FERDINAND	This is a most majestic vision, and Harmonious charmingly. May I be bold To think these spirits?
PROSPERO	Spirits, which by mine art I have from their confines called to enact My present fancies.
FERDINAND	Let me live here ever! So rare a wondered father and a wise Makes this place paradise. Juno and Ceres whisper, and send Iris on employment
PROSPERO	Sweet now, silence. Juno and Ceres whisper seriously. There’s something else to do. Hush, and be mute, Or else our spell is marred.
IRIS	You nymphs called naiads of the wind’ring brooks, With your sedged crowns and ever-harmless looks, Leave your crisp channels, and on this green land Answer your summons; Juno does command. Come, temperate nymphs, and help to celebrate A contract of true love. Be not too late.
(didascalia)	Enter certain nymphs
IRIS	You sunburned sicklemen, of August weary, Come hither from the furrow and be merry; Make holiday, your rye-straw hats put on, And these fresh nymphs encounter every one In country footing.
(didascalia)	Enter certain reapers, properly habited. They join with the nymphs in a graceful dance; towards the end whereof Prospero starts suddenly, and speaks
PROSPERO	(aside) I had forgot that foul conspiracy Of the beast Caliban and his confederates Against my life. The minute of their plot Is almost come. (To the spirits) Well done! Avoid; no more!
(didascalia)	To a strange, hollow, and confused noise, the spirits in the pageant heavily vanish. Ferdinand and Miranda rise
FERDINAND	(to Miranda) This is strange. Your father’s in some passion That works him strongly.
MIRANDA	Never till this day Saw I him touched with anger so distempered.
PROSPERO	You do look, my son, in a moved sort, As if you were dismayed. Be cheerful, sir. Our revels now are ended. These our actors, As I foretold you, were all spirits, and Are melted into air, into thin air; And like the baseless fabric of this vision, The cloud-capped towers, the gorgeous palaces, The solemn temples, the great globe itself, Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve; And, like this insubstantial pageant faded, Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff As dreams are made on, and our little life Is rounded with a sleep. Sir, I am vexed. Bear with my weakness. My old brain is troubled. Be not disturbed with my infirmity. If you be pleased, retire into my cell, And there repose. A turn or two I’ll walk To still my beating mind.
FERDINAND	and MIRANDA We wish your peace.
(didascalia)	Exeunt Ferdinand and Miranda
PROSPERO	Come with a thought! I thank thee, Ariel. Come!
(didascalia)	Enter Ariel
ARIEL	Thy thoughts I cleave to. What’s thy pleasure?
PROSPERO	Spirit, We must prepare to meet with Caliban.
ARIEL	Ay, my commander. When I presented Ceres I thought to have told thee of it, but I feared Lest I might anger thee.
PROSPERO	Say again: where didst thou leave these varlets?
ARIEL	I told you, sir, they were red-hot with drinking; So full of valour that they smote the air For breathing in their faces, beat the ground For kissing of their feet; yet always bending Towards their project. Then I beat my tabor, At which like unbacked colts they pricked their ears, Advanced their eyelids, lifted up their noses As they smelt music. So I charmed their ears That calf-like they my lowing followed, through Toothed briars, sharp furzes, pricking gorse, and thorns, Which entered their frail shins. At last I left them I’th’ filthy-mantled pool beyond your cell, There dancing up to th’ chins, that the foul lake O’er-stunk their feet.
PROSPERO	This was well done, my bird. Thy shape invisible retain thou still. The trumpery in my house, go bring it hither For stale to catch these thieves.
ARIEL	I go, I go.
(didascalia)	Exit
PROSPERO	A devil, a born devil, on whose nature Nurture can never stick; on whom my pains, Humanely taken, all, all lost, quite lost, And, as with age his body uglier grows, So his mind cankers. I will plague them all, Even to roaring.
(didascalia)	Enter Ariel, laden with glistening apparel, etc.
PROSPERO	Come, hang them on this lime.
(didascalia)	Ariel hangs up the apparel. Exeunt Prospero and
(didascalia)	Ariel.
(didascalia)	Enter Caliban, Stefano, and Trinculo, all wet
CALIBAN	Pray you, tread softly, that the blind mole may Not hear a foot fall. We now are near his cell.
STEFANO	Monster, your fairy, which you say is a harmless fairy, has done little better than played the Jack with us.
TRINCULO	Monster, I do smell all horse-piss, at which my nose is in great indignation.
STEFANO	So is mine. Do you hear, monster? If I should take a displeasure against you, look you—
TRINCULO	Thou wert but a lost monster.
CALIBAN	Good my lord, give me thy favour still. Be patient, for the prize I’ll bring thee to Shall hoodwink this mischance. Therefore speak softly. All’s hushed as midnight yet.
TRINCULO	Ay, but to lose our bottles in the pool!
STEFANO	There is not only disgrace and dishonour in that, monster, but an infinite loss.
TRINCULO	That’s more to me than my wetting. Yet this is your harmless fairy, monster.
STEFANO	I will fetch off my bottle, though I be o’er ears for my labour.
CALIBAN	Prithee, my king, be quiet. Seest thou here; This is the mouth o’th’ cell. No noise, and enter. Do that good mischief which may make this island Thine own for ever, and I thy Caliban For aye thy foot-licker.
STEFANO	Give me thy hand. I do begin to have bloody thoughts.
TRINCULO	(seeing the apparel) O King Stefano, O peer! O worthy Stefano, look what a wardrobe here is for thee!
CALIBAN	Let it alone, thou fool, it is but trash.
TRINCULO	(putting on a gown) O ho, monster, we know what belongs to a frippery! O King Stefano!
STEFANO	Put off that gown, Trinculo. By this hand, I’ll have that gown.
TRINCULO	Thy grace shall have it.
CALIBAN	The dropsy drown this fool! What do you mean To dote thus on such luggage? Let’t alone, And do the murder first. If he awake, From toe to crown he’ll fill our skins with pinches, Make us strange stuff.
STEFANO	Be you quiet, monster.—Mistress lime, is not this my jerkin? Now is the jerkin under the line. Now, jerkin, you are like to lose your hair and prove a bald jerkin. Stefano and Trinculo take garments
TRINCULO	Do, do! We steal by line and level, an’t like your grace.
STEFANO	I thank thee for that jest. Here’s a garment for’t. Wit shall not go unrewarded while I am king of this country. ‘Steal by line and level’ is an excellent pass of pate. There’s another garment for’t.
TRINCULO	Monster, come, put some lime upon your fingers, and away with the rest.
CALIBAN	I will have none on’t. We shall lose our time, And all be turned to barnacles, or to apes With foreheads villainous low.
STEFANO	Monster, lay to your fingers. Help to bear this away where my hogshead of wine is, or I’ll turn you out of my kingdom. Go to, carry this.
TRINCULO	And this.
STEFANO	Ay, and this. They load Caliban with apparel. A noise of hunters heard. Enter divers spirits in shape of dogs and hounds, hunting them about; Prospero and Ariel setting them on
PROSPERO	Hey, Mountain, hey!
ARIEL	Silver! There it goes, Silver!
PROSPERO	Fury, Fury! There, Tyrant, there! Hark, hark!
(didascalia)	Exeunt Stefano, Trinculo, and Caliban, pursued by spirits
PROSPERO	(To Ariel) Go, charge my goblins that they grind their joints With dry convulsions, shorten up their sinews With aged cramps, and more pinch-spotted make them Than pard or cat o’mountain. Cries within
ARIEL	Hark, they roar!
PROSPERO	Let them be hunted soundly. At this hour Lies at my mercy all mine enemies. Shortly shall all my labours end, and thou Shalt have the air at freedom. For a little, Follow, and do me service.
(didascalia)	Exeunt

Atto 5, Scena 1

Chi parla	Battuta
(didascalia)	Enter Prospero, in his magic robes, and Ariel
PROSPERO	Now does my project gather to a head. My charms crack not, my spirits obey, and time Goes upright with his carriage. How’s the day?
ARIEL	On the sixth hour; at which time, my lord, You said our work should cease.
PROSPERO	I did say so When first I raised the tempest. Say, my spirit, How fares the King and’s followers?
ARIEL	Confined together In the same fashion as you gave in charge, Just as you left them; all prisoners, sir, In the lime-grove which weather-fends your cell. They cannot budge till your release. The King, His brother, and yours, abide all three distracted, And the remainder mourning over them, Brimful of sorrow and dismay; but chiefly Him that you termed, sir, the good old lord Gonzalo: His tears run down his beard like winter’s drops From eaves of reeds. Your charm so strongly works ’em That if you now beheld them your affections Would become tender.
PROSPERO	Dost thou think so, spirit?
ARIEL	Mine would, sir, were I human.
PROSPERO	And mine shall. Hast thou, which art but air, a touch, a feeling Of their afflictions, and shall not myself, One of their kind, that relish all as sharply Passion as they, be kindlier moved than thou art? Though with their high wrongs I am struck to th’ quick, Yet with my nobler reason ’gainst my fury Do I take part. The rarer action is In virtue than in vengeance. They being penitent, The sole drift of my purpose doth extend Not a frown further. Go release them, Ariel. My charms I’ll break, their senses I’ll restore, And they shall be themselves.
ARIEL	I’ll fetch them, sir.
(didascalia)	Exit
(didascalia)	Prospero draws a circle with his staff
PROSPERO	Ye elves of hills, brooks, standing lakes and groves, And ye that on the sands with printless foot Do chase the ebbing Neptune, and do fly him When he comes back; you demi-puppets that By moonshine do the green sour ringlets make Whereof the ewe not bites; and you whose pastime Is to make midnight mushrooms, that rejoice To hear the solemn curfew; by whose aid, Weak masters though ye be, I have bedimmed The noontide sun, called forth the mutinous winds, And ‘twixt the green sea and the azured vault Set roaring war—to the dread rattling thunder Have I given fire, and rifted Jove’s stout oak With his own bolt; the strong-based promontory Have I made shake, and by the spurs plucked up The pine and cedar; graves at my command Have waked their sleepers, oped, and let ’em forth By my so potent art. But this rough magic I here abjure. And when I have required Some heavenly music—which even now I do— To work mine end upon their senses that This airy charm is for, I’ll break my staff, Bury it certain fathoms in the earth, And deeper than did ever plummet sound I’ll drown my book. Solemn music. Here enters first Ariel, invisible; then Alonso, with a frantic gesture, attended by Gonzalo; Sebastian and Antonio, in like manner, attended by Adrian and Francisco. They all enter the circle which Prospero had made, and there stand charmed; which Prospero observing, speaks (To Alonso) A solemn air, and the best comforter To an unsettled fancy, cure thy brains, Now useless, boiled within thy skull. (To Sebastian and Antonio) There stand, For you are spelt-stopped.— Holy Gonzalo, honourable man, Mine eyes, ev’n sociable to the show of thine, Fall fellowly drops. (Aside) The charm dissolves apace, And as the morning steals upon the night, Melting the darkness, so their rising senses Begin to chase the ignorant fumes that mantle Their clearer reason.—O good Gonzalo, My true preserver, and a loyal sir To him thou follow’st, I will pay thy graces Home both in word and deed.—Most cruelly Didst thou, Alonso, use me and my daughter. Thy brother was a furtherer in the act.— Thou art pinched for’t now, Sebastian. (To Antonio) Flesh and blood, You, brother mine, that entertained ambition, Expelled remorse and nature, whom, with Sebastian— Whose inward pinches therefore are most strong,— Would here have killed your king, I do forgive thee, Unnatural though thou art. (Aside) Their understanding Begins to swell, and the approaching tide Will shortly fill the reasonable shores That now lie foul and muddy. Not one of them That yet looks on me, or would know me.—Ariel, Fetch me the hat and rapier in my cell. I will disease me, and myself present As I was sometime Milan. Quickly, spirit! Thou shalt ere long be free. Ariel sings and helps to attire him as Duke of Milan
ARIEL	Where the bee sucks, there suck I: In a cowslip’s bell I lie; There I couch when owls do cry. On the bat’s back I do fly After summer merrily. Merrily, merrily shall I live now Under the blossom that hangs on the bough. Merrily, merrily shall I live now Under the blossom that hangs on the bough.
PROSPERO	Why, that’s my dainty Ariel! I shall miss thee, But yet thou shalt have freedom.—So, so, so.— To the King’s ship, invisible as thou art! There shalt thou find the mariners asleep Under the hatches. The Master and the Boatswain Being awake, enforce them to this place, And presently, I prithee.
ARIEL	I drink the air before me, and return Or ere your pulse twice beat.
(didascalia)	Exit
GONZALO	All torment, trouble, wonder, and amazement Inhabits here. Some heavenly power guide us Out of this fearful country!
PROSPERO	Behold, sir King, The wronged Duke of Milan, Prospero. For more assurance that a living prince Does now speak to thee, I embrace thy body; And to thee and thy company I bid A hearty welcome. He embraces Alonso
ALONSO	Whe’er thou beest he or no, Or some enchanted trifle to abuse me, As late I have been, I not know. Thy pulse Beats as of flesh and blood; and since I saw thee Th’affliction of my mind amends, with which I fear a madness held me. This must crave— An if this be at all—a most strange story. Thy dukedom I resign, and do entreat Thou pardon me my wrongs. But how should Prospero Be living and be here?
PROSPERO	(to Gonzalo) First, noble friend, Let me embrace thine age, whose honour cannot Be measured or confined. He embraces Gonzalo
GONZALO	Whether this be Or be not, I’ll not swear.
PROSPERO	You do yet taste Some subtleties o’th’ isle that will not let you Believe things certain.—Welcome, my friends all. (Aside to Sebastian and Antonio) But you, my brace of lords, were I so minded, I here could pluck his highness’ frown upon you And justify you traitors. At this time I will tell no tales.
SEBASTIAN	(to Antonio) The devil speaks in him.
PROSPERO	No. (To Antonio) For you, most wicked sir, whom to call brother Would even infect my mouth, I do forgive Thy rankest fault, all of them, and require My dukedom of thee, which perforce I know Thou must restore.
ALONSO	If thou beest Prospero, Give us particulars of thy preservation, How thou hast met us here, whom three hours since Were wrecked upon this shore, where I have lost— How sharp the point of this remembrance is!— My dear son Ferdinand.
PROSPERO	I am woe for’t, sir.
ALONSO	Irreparable is the loss, and patience Says it is past her cure.
PROSPERO	I rather think You have not sought her help, of whose soft grace For the like loss I have her sovereign aid, And rest myself content.
ALONSO	You the like loss?
PROSPERO	As great to me as late; and supportable To make the dear loss have I means much weaker Than you may call to comfort you, for I Have lost my daughter.
ALONSO	A daughter? O heavens, that they were living both in Naples, The king and queen there! That they were, I wish Myself were mudded in that oozy bed Where my son lies. When did you lose your daughter?
PROSPERO	In this last tempest. I perceive these lords At this encounter do so much admire That they devour their reason, and scarce think Their eyes do offices of truth, these words Are natural breath. But howsoe’er you have Been jostled from your senses, know for certain That I am Prospero, and that very Duke Which was thrust forth of Milan, who most strangely, Upon this shore where you were wrecked, was landed To be the lord on’t. No more yet of this, For ’tis a chronicle of day by day, Not a relation for a breakfast, nor Befitting this first meeting. Welcome, sir. This cell’s my court. Here have I few attendants, And subjects none abroad. Pray you, look in. My dukedom since you have given me again, I will requite you with as good a thing; At least bring forth a wonder to content ye As much as me my dukedom. Here Prospero discovers Ferdinand and Miranda, playing at chess
MIRANDA	Sweet lord, you play me false.
FERDINAND	No, my dearest love, I would not for the world.
MIRANDA	Yes, for a score of kingdoms you should wrangle, An I would call it fair play.
ALONSO	If this prove A vision of the island, one dear son Shall I twice lose.
SEBASTIAN	A most high miracle.
FERDINAND	(coming forward) Though the seas threaten, they are merciful. I have cursed them without cause. He kneels
ALONSO	Now all the blessings Of a glad father compass thee about. Arise and say how thou cam’st here. Ferdinand rises
MIRANDA	(coming forward) O wonder! How many goodly creatures are there here! How beauteous mankind is! O brave new world That has such people in’t!
PROSPERO	’Tis new to thee.
ALONSO	(to Ferdinand) What is this maid with whom thou wast at play? Your eld’st acquaintance cannot be three hours. Is she the goddess that hath severed us, And brought us thus together?
FERDINAND	Sir, she is mortal; But by immortal providence she’s mine. I chose her when I could not ask my father For his advice, nor thought I had one. She Is daughter to this famous Duke of Milan, Of whom so often I have heard renown, But never saw before; of whom I have Received a second life; and second father This lady makes him to me.
ALONSO	I am hers. But O, how oddly will it sound, that I Must ask my child forgiveness!
PROSPERO	There, sir, stop. Let us not burden our remembrance with A heaviness that’s gone.
GONZALO	I have inly wept, Or should have spoke ere this. Look down, you gods, And on this couple drop a blessed crown, For it is you that have chalked forth the way Which brought us hither.
ALONSO	I say amen, Gonzalo.
GONZALO	Was Milan thrust from Milan, that his issue Should become kings of Naples? O rejoice Beyond a common joy! And set it down With gold on lasting pillars: in one voyage Did Claribel her husband find at Tunis, And Ferdinand her brother found a wife Where he himself was lost; Prospero his dukedom In a poor isle; and all of us ourselves, When no man was his own.
ALONSO	(to Ferdinand and Miranda) Give me your hands. Let grief and sorrow still embrace his heart That doth not wish you joy.
GONZALO	Be it so! Amen!
(didascalia)	Enter Ariel, with the Master and Boatswain amazedly following
GONZALO	O look, sir, look, sir, here is more of us! I prophesied if a gallows were on land This fellow could not drown. (To the Boatswain) Now, blasphemy, That swear’st grace o’erboard: not an oath on shore? Hast thou no mouth by land? What is the news?
BOATSWAIN	The best news is that we have safely found Our King and company. The next, our ship, Which but three glasses since we gave out split, Is tight and yare and bravely rigged, as when We first put out to sea.
ARIEL	(aside to Prospero) Sir, all this service Have I done since I went.
PROSPERO	(aside to Ariel) My tricksy spirit!
ALONSO	These are not natural events; they strengthen From strange to stranger. Say, how came you hither?
BOATSWAIN	If I did think, sir, I were well awake I’d strive to tell you. We were dead of sleep, And—how we know not—all clapped under hatches, Where but even now, with strange and several noises Of roaring, shrieking, howling, jingling chains, And more diversity of sounds, all horrible, We were awaked; straightway at liberty; Where we in all her trim freshly beheld Our royal, good, and gallant ship, our Master Cap’ring to eye her. On a trice, so please you, Even in a dream, were we divided from them, And were brought moping hither.
ARIEL	(aside to Prospero) Was’t well done?
PROSPERO	(aside to Ariel) Bravely, my diligence. Thou shalt be free.
ALONSO	This is as strange a maze as e’er men trod, And there is in this business more than nature Was ever conduct of. Some oracle Must rectify our knowledge.
PROSPERO	Sir, my liege, Do not infest your mind with beating on The strangeness of this business. At picked leisure, Which shall be shortly, single I’ll resolve you, Which to you shall seem probable, of every These happened accidents; till when be cheerful, And think of each thing well. (Aside to Ariel) Come hither, spirit. Set Caliban and his companions free. Untie the spell.
(didascalia)	Exit Ariel
PROSPERO	(To Alonso) How fares my gracious sir? There are yet missing of your company Some few odd lads that you remember not.
(didascalia)	Enter Ariel, driving in Caliban, Stefano, and Trinculo, in their stolen apparel
STEFANO	Every man shift for all the rest, and let no man take care for himself, for all is but fortune. Coragio, bully-monster, coragio!
TRINCULO	If these be true spies which I wear in my head, here’s a goodly sight.
CALIBAN	O Setebos, these be brave spirits indeed! How fine my master is! I am afraid He will chastise me.
SEBASTIAN	Ha, ha! What things are these, my lord Antonio? Will money buy ’em?
ANTONIO	Very like; one of them Is a plain fish, and no doubt marketable.
PROSPERO	Mark but the badges of these men, my lords, Then say if they be true. This misshapen knave, His mother was a witch, and one so strong That could control the moon, make flows and ebbs, And deal in her command without her power. These three have robbed me, and this demi-devil, For he’s a bastard one, had plotted with them To take my life. Two of these fellows you Must know and own. This thing of darkness I Acknowledge mine.
CALIBAN	I shall be pinched to death.
ALONSO	Is not this Stefano, my drunken butler?
SEBASTIAN	He is drunk now. Where had he wine?
ALONSO	And Trinculo is reeling ripe. Where should they Find this grand liquor that hath gilded ’em? (To Trinculo) How cam’st thou in this pickle?
TRINCULO	I have been in such a pickle since I saw you last that, I fear me, will never out of my bones. I shall not fear fly-blowing.
SEBASTIAN	Why, how now, Stefano?
STEFANO	O, touch me not! I am not Stefano, but a cramp.
PROSPERO	You’d be king o’the isle, sirrah?
STEFANO	I should have been a sore one, then.
ALONSO	(pointing to Caliban) This is a strange thing as e’er I looked on.
PROSPERO	He is as disproportioned in his manners As in his shape. (To Caliban) Go, sirrah, to my cell. Take with you your companions. As you look To have my pardon, trim it handsomely.
CALIBAN	Ay, that I will; and I’ll be wise hereafter, And seek for grace. What a thrice-double ass Was I to take this drunkard for a god, And worship this dull fooll
PROSPERO	Go to, away!
(didascalia)	Exit Caliban
ALONSO	(to Stefano and Trinculo) Hence, and bestow your luggage where you found it.
SEBASTIAN	Or stole it, rather.
(didascalia)	Exeunt Stefano and Trinculo
PROSPERO	(to Alonso) Sir, I invite your highness and your train To my poor cell, where you shall take your rest For this one night; which part of it I’ll waste With such discourse as I not doubt shall make it Go quick away: the story of my life, And the particular accidents gone by Since I came to this isle. And in the morn I’ll bring you to your ship, and so to Naples, Where I have hope to see the nuptial Of these our dear-belovèd solemnized; And thence retire me to my Milan, where Every third thought shall be my grave.
ALONSO	I long To hear the story of your life, which must Take the ear strangely.
PROSPERO	I’ll deliver all, And promise you calm seas, auspicious gales, And sail so expeditious that shall catch Your royal fleet far off. (Aside to Ariel) My Ariel, chick, That is thy charge. Then to the elements Be free, and fare thou well.
(didascalia)	Exit Ariel
PROSPERO	Please you, draw near.
(didascalia)	Exeunt all but Prospero
PROSPERO	Epilogue
PROSPERO	Now my charms are all o’erthrown, And what strength I have’s mine own, Which is most faint. Now ’tis true I must be here confined by you Or sent to Naples. Let me not, Since I have my dukedom got, And pardoned the deceiver, dwell In this bare island by your spell; But release me from my bands With the help of your good hands. Gentle breath of yours my sails Must fill, or else my project fails, Which was to please. Now I want Spirits to enforce, art to enchant; And my ending is despair Unless I be relieved by prayer, Which pierces so, that it assaults Mercy itself, and frees all faults. As you from crimes would pardoned be, Let your indulgence set me free. He awaits applause, then exit
CARDENIO	A BRIEF ACCOUNT
MANY	plays acted in Shakespeare’s time have failed to survive; they may easily include some that he wrote. The mystery of Love’s Labour’s Won is discussed elsewhere (pp. xxxvii, 337). Certain manuscript records of the seventeenth century suggest that at least one other play in which he had a hand may have disappeared. On 9 September 1653 the London publisher Humphrey Moseley entered in the Stationers’ Register a batch of plays including ‘The History of Cardenio, by Mr Fletcher and Shakespeare’. Cardenio is a character in Part One of Cervantes’ Don Quixote, published in English translation in 1612. Two earlier allusions suggest that the King’s Men owned a play on this subject at the time that Shakespeare was collaborating with John Fletcher (1579-1625). On 20 May 1613 the Privy Council authorized payment of £20 to John Heminges, as leader of the King’s Men, for the presentation at court of six plays, one listed as ‘Cardenno’. On 9 July of the same year Heminges received £6 13s. 4d. for his company’s performance of a play ‘called Cardenna’ before the ambassador of the Duke of Savoy. No more information about this play survives from the seventeenth century, but in 1728 Lewis Theobald published a play based on the story of Cardenio and called Double Falsehood, or The Distrest Lovers, which he claimed to have ‘revised and adapted’ from one ‘written originally by W. Shakespeare’. It had been successfully produced at Drury Lane on 13 December 1727, and was given thirteen times up to 1 May 1728. Other performances are recorded in 1740, 1741, 1767 (when it was reprinted), 1770, and 1847. In 1770 a newspaper stated that ‘the original manuscript’ was ‘treasured up in the Museum of Covent Garden Playhouse’; fire destroyed the theatre, including its library, in 1808. Theobald claimed to own several manuscripts of an original play by Shakespeare, and remarked that some of his contemporaries thought the style was Fletcher’s, not Shakespeare’s. When he himself came to edit Shakespeare’s plays he did not include either Double Falsehood or the play on which he claimed to have based it; he simply edited the plays of the First Folio, not adding either Pericles or The Two Noble Kinsmen, though he believed they were partly by Shakespeare. It is quite possible that Double Falsehood is based (however distantly) on a play of Shakespeare’s time; if so, the play is likely to have been the one performed by the King’s Men and ascribed by Moseley in 1653 to Fletcher and Shakespeare. Double Falsehood is a tragicomedy; the characters’ names differ from those in Don Quixote, and the story is varied. Henriquez rapes Violante, then falls in love with Leonora, loved by his friend Julio. Her parents agree to the marriage, but Julio interrupts the ceremony. Leonora (who had intended to kill herself) swoons and later takes sanctuary in a nunnery. Julio goes mad with desire for vengeance on his false friend; and the wronged Violante, disguised as a boy, joins a group of shepherds, and is almost raped by one of them. Henriquez’s virtuous brother, Roderick, ignorant of his villainy, helps him to abduct Leonora. Leonora and Violante both denounce Henriquez to Roderick. Finally Henriquez repents and marries Violante, while Julio (now sane) marries Leonora. Some of the motifs of Double Falsehood, such as the disguised heroine wronged by her lover and, particularly, the reuniting and reconciliation of parents with children, recall Shakespeare’s late plays. But most of the dialogue seems un-Shakespearian. Though the play deserved its limited success, it is now no more than an interesting curiosity.