SCENE I.- Another part of the Island. ACT II. Enter ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, GONZALO, ADRIAN, FRANCISCO, and others. Gon. 'Beseech you, sir, be merry: you have cause (So have we all) of joy; for our escape İs much beyond our loss: Our hint of woe Is common; every day, some sailor's wife, The masters of some merchant, and the merchant, Can speak like us: then wisely, good sir, weigh Alon. Seb. Look, he's winding up the watch of his wit; By and by it will strike. Seb. One: Tell. Seb. What if he had said, widower Æneas too? Gon. When every grief is entertain'd, that's of- good lord, how you take it! fer'd, Ant. Fye, what a spendthrift is he of his tongue! next? Gon. Well, I have done: But yet Seb. He will be talking. Ant. Which of them, he, or Adrian, for a good bring forth more islands. Ant. He could not miss it. Adr. It must needs be of subtle, tender, and delicate temperance. Ant. Temperance was a delicate wench. Seb. Ay, and a subtle; as he most learnedly delivered. Adr. The air breathes upon us here most sweetly. Seb. Of that there's none, or little. Gon. How lush and lusty the grass looks! how green! Ant. The ground, indeed, is tawny. Seb. With an eye of green in't. Ant. He misses not much. Seb. No; he doth but mistake the truth totally. Gon. But the rarity of it is (which is indeed almost beyond credit) — Seb. As many vouch'd rarities are. Gon. That our garments, being, as they were drenched in the sea, hold, notwithstanding, their freshness, and glosses; being rather new dy'd, than stain'd with salt water. Ant. If but one of his pockets could speak, would it not say, he lies? Seb. Ay, or very falsely pocket up his report. Gon. Methinks, our garments are now as fresh as when we put them on first in Africk, at the marriage of the king's fair daughter Claribel, to the king of Tunis. Seb. 'Twas a sweet marriage, and we prosper well in our return. Adr. Tunis was never graced before with such a paragon to their queen. Gon. Not since widow Dido's time. widow in? Widow Dido! How came that Adr. Widow Dido, said you? you make me study of that: She was of Carthage, not of Tunis. Gon. This Tunis, sir, was Carthage. Adr. Carthage? Gon. I assure you, Carthage. Ant. His word is more than the miraculous harp. Seb. I think he will carry this island home in his pocket, and give it his son for an apple. Ant. And, sowing the kernels of it in the sea, Gon. Ay? Ant. Why, in good time. Gon. 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. Ant. And the rarest that e'er came there. Seb. 'Bate, I beseech you, widow Dido. Ant. O, widow Dido; ay, widow Dido. Gon. Is not, sir, my doublet as fresh as the first day I wore it? I mean, in a sort. Ant. That sort was well fish'd for. Gon. When I wore it at your daughter's marriage? Alon. You cram these words into mine ears, against The stomach of my sense: 'Would I had never Hath made his meal on thee! Fran. Sir, he may live; I saw him beat the surges under him, Alon. No, no, he s gone. loss; Seb. Sir, you may thank yourself for this great Gon. Who, in this kind of merry fooling, am no thing to you : so you may continue, and laugh at Ant. What a blow was there given ? Seb. An it had not fallen flat-long. would lift the moon out of her sphere, if she would Alon. Pr'ythee, peace. continue in it five weeks without changing. Enter Ariel invisible, playing solemn musick. Seb. We would so, and then go a bat-fowling. Weigh’d, between lothness and obedience, at Ant. Nay, good my lord, be not angry. Which end o' the beam she'd bow. We have lost Gon. No, I warrant you; I will not adventure your son, my discretion so weakly. Will you laugh me I fear, for ever : Mian and Naples have asleep, for I am very heavy? More widows in them of this business' making, Ant. Go sleep, and hear us. Than we bring men to comfort them : the fault's (All sleep but Alox. Sex. and ANT. Your own. Alon. What, all so soon asleep! I wish mine eyes Would, with themselves, shut up my thoughts : 1 find, Seb. Please you, sir, Do not omit the heavy offer of it: Very well. It seldom visits sorrow; when it doth, It is a comforter. Ant. We two, my lord, Will guard your person while you take your rejl, And watch your safety. Very foul. Alon. Thank you : wondrous heavy. Gon. Had I plantation of this isle, my lord, [Alonso sleeps. Erit ARIEL .Ant. He'd sow it with nettle-seed. Seb. What a strange drowsiness possesses them ? Or docks, or mallows. Ant. It is the quality o' the climate. Why do? Doth it not then our eye-lids sink? I find not Nor I; my spirits are nimble. traries They fell together all, as by consent ; They dropp'd, as by a thunder-stroke. What might, Worthy Sebastian ?-0, what might ?—No more:- What thou should'st be: the occasion speaks thee; and My strong imagination sees a crown Dropping upon thy head. Seb. What, art thou waking? Ant. Do you not hear me speak? I do; and, surely, Out of thy sleep: What is it thou did'st say? With eyes wide open ; standing, speaking, moving, Noble Sebastian, Whiles thou art waking. Seb. Thou dost snore distinctly; There's meaning in thy snores. Gon. I would with such perfection govern, sir, ! Must be so too, if heed me; which to do Trebles thee o'er. Seb. Well, I am standing rates Ant. I'll teach you how to flow. Do so: to ebb, Ant 0, Gon. I do well believe your highness; and did If you but knew, how you the purpose cherish, it to minister occasion to these gentlemen, who are Whiles thus you mock it! how, in stripping it of such sensible and nimble lungs that they always You more invest it! Ebbing men, indeed, use to laugh at nothing. Most often do so near the bottom run, Ant. 'Twas you we laugh'd at. By their own fear, or sloth. to me. Ant. O, out of that no hope, What great hope have you! no hope, that way, is Another way so high an hope, that even Ambition cannot pierce a wink beyond, Musick. Re-enter ARIEL, invisible. Ari. My master through his art foresees the danger That these, his friends, are in; and sends me forth, But doubts discovery there. Will you grant, with me, (For else his project dies,) to keep them living. That Ferdinand is drown'd? Seb. Ant. He's gone. Then, tell me, Claribel. Who's the next heir of Naples ? Seb. 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. Ant. As this Gonzalo; I myself could make And how does your content Tender your own good fortune? Seb. I remember, 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. Seb. But, for your conscience Ant. Ay, sir; where lies that? if it were a kybe, If he were that which now he's like: whom I, They'll take suggestion, as a cat laps milk; Seb. Shall be my precedent; I'll come by Naples. Thy case, dear friend, Draw thy sword: one stroke Shall free thee from the tribute which thou pay'st; Draw together: And when I rear my hand, do you the like, Seb. O, but one word. [They converse apart. [Sings in GONZALO's ear. While you here do snoaring lie His time doth take: If of life you keep a care, Ant. Then let us both be sudden. Wherefore this ghastly looking? Gon. What's the matter? Seb. Whiles we stood here securing your repose, Even now, we heard a hollow burst of bellowing Like bulls, or rather lions; did it not wake you? It struck mine ear most terribly. I heard nothing. Alon. Alon. Gon. Heavens keep him from these beasts! For he is, sure, i' the island. Alon. Ari. Prospero my lord shall know what I have done : Lead away. [Aside So, king, go safely on to seek thy son. [Exeunt. SCENE II.-Another part of the Island. Enter CALIBAN, with a burden of wood. A noise of thunder heard. Cal. All the infections that the sun sucks up From bogs, fens, flats, on Prosper fall, and make him By inch-meal a disease! His spirits hear me, And yet I needs must curse. But they'll nor pinch, Fright me with urchin shows, pitch me i' the mire, Nor lead me, like a fire-brand, in the dark Out of my way, unless he bid them; but For every trifle are they set upon me Here comes a spirit of his; and to torment me, Trin. Here's neither bush nor shrub, to bear off any weather at all, and another storm brewing; I hear it sing i' the wind: yond' same black cloud, yond' huge one, looks like a foul bumbard that would shed his liquor. If it should thunder, as it did before, I know not where to hide my head: yond' same cloud cannot chuse but fall by pailfuls. -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. Legg'd like a inan! 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 thunder-bolt. [Thunder.] 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. Enter STEPHANO, singing; a bottle in his hand. Here shall I die a-shore; This is a very scurvy tune to sing at a man's funeral: Well, here's my comfort. [Drinks. The master, the swabber, the boatswain, and I, The gunner, and his mate, Lov'd Mall, Meg, and Marian, and Margery, For she had a tongue with a tang, This is a scurvy tune too: But here's my comfort. [Drinks. Cal. Do not torment me: O! Ste. What's the matter? Have we devils here? Do you put tricks upon us with savages, and men of Inde? Ha! I have not 'scap'd 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 Stephano breathes at nostrils. Cal. The spirit torments me: 0! Ste. 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. Cal. Do not torment me, pr'ythee; I'll bring my wood home faster. Ste. 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. Cal. Thou dost me yet but little hurt; thou wilt Anon, I know it by thy trembling; Now Prosper works upon thee. Ste. 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. Trin. I should know that voice: It should be — But he is drowned; and these are devils: O! defend me! — Ste. 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 Amen! I will pour some in thy other mouth. Trin. Stephano, · Ste. Doth thy other mouth call me? Mercy! mercy! This is a devil, and no monster: I will leave him; I have no long spoon. Trin. Stephano! —if thou beest Stephano, touch me, and speak to me; for I am Trinculo;-be not afeard,―thy good friend Trinculo. Ste. If thou beest Trinculo, come forth; I'll pull thee by the lesser legs: if any be Trinculo's legs, these are they. Thou art very Trinculo, indeed: How cam'st thou to be the siege of this moon-calf? Can he vent Trinculos? Trin. I took him to be killed with a thunderstroke: - But art thou not drowned, Stephano? I hope now, thou art not drowned. Is the storm over-blown? I hid me under the dead moon-calf's gaberdine, for fear of the storm: And art thou living, Stephano? O Stephano, two Neapolitans 'scap'd! Ste. Pr'ythee, do not turn me about; my stomach is not constant. Cal. These be fine things, and if they be no: sprites. That's a brave god, and bears celestial liquor: Ste. How did'st 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 over-board, by this bottle! which I made of the bark of a tree, with mine own hands, since I was cast a-shore. Cal. I'll swear, upon that bottle, to be thy True subject; for the liquor is not earthly. Ste. Here; swear then how thou escap'dst. Trin. Swam a-shore, man, like a duck; I can swim like a duck, I'll be sworn. Ste. Here, kiss the book: Though thou canst swim like a duck, thou art made like a goose. Trin. O Stephano, hast any more of this? Ste. The whole butt, man; my cellar is in a rock by the sea-side, where my wine is hid. How now, moon-calf? how does thine ague? Cal. Hast thou not dropped from heaven? A plague upon the tyrant that I serve! Trin. A most ridiculous monster! to make a wonder of a poor drunkard. Cal. I pr'ythee, let me bring thee where crabs grow And I with my long nails will dig thee pig-nuts; Shew thee a jay's nest, and instruct thee how To snare the nimble marmozet; I'll bring thee To clust'ring filberds, and sometimes I'll get thee Young sea-mells from the rock: Wilt thou go with me? Ste. I pr'ythee now, lead the way, without any more talking. Trinculo, the king and all our company else being drown'd, we will inherit here. Here; bear my bottle. Fellow Trinculo, we'll fill him by and by again. Cal. Farewell, master: farewell, farewell. Trin. A howling monster; a drunken monster At requiring, Nor scrape trencher, nor wash dish; ’Ban’Ban, Ca Caliban, Has a new master — Get a new man. Freedom, hey-day! hey-day, freedom! freedom hey-day, freedom! Ste. O brave monster! lead the way. [Exeunt Fer. No, precious creature: I had rather crack my sinews, break my back, Than you should such dishonour undergo, While I sit lazy by. Mira. As well as it does you With much more ease; And yours against. : It would become me and I should do it And kiss thy foot: I pr'ythee, be my god. Trin. By this light, a most perfidious and drunken monster; when his god's asleep, he'll rob his bottle. Cal. I'll kiss thy foot: I'll swear myself thy sub ject. Ste. Come on then; down and swear. Trin. I shall laugh myself to death at this puppyheaded monster: a most scurvy monster! I could find in my heart to beat him,— Ste. Come, kiss. Trin.- -but that the poor monster's in drink; An abominable monster ! Cal. I'll shew thee the best springs; I'll pluck❘ thee berries. I'll fish for thee, and get thee wood enough. SCENE I.- Before Prospero's Cell. Enter FERDINAND, bearing a log. ACT III. Fer. There be some sports are painful; but their Delight in them sets off: some kinds of baseness baseness Had ne'er like éxecutor. I forget: But these sweet thoughts do even refresh my labours; Enter MIRANDA, and PROSPERO at a distance. Fer. O most dear mistress, Mira. I'll bear your logs the while If you'll sit down, Pray, give me that; Pro. for my good will is to it, Poor worm! thou art infected; This visitation shews it. Fer. No, noble mistress; me, You look wearily. When you are by at night. Mira. I do beseech you, Miranda : I have broke your hest to say so! - O my father. Mira. seca More that I may call men, than you, good friena |
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