Boats. Heigh, my hearts; cheerily, cheerily, my hearts; yare, yare; Take in the topsail; Tend to the master's whistle.-Blow, till thou burst thy wind, if room enough!

Enter ALONZO, SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, FERDINAND, GONZALO, and others.

Alon. Good boatswain, have a care. Where's the master? Play the men. Boats. I pray now, keep below.

Ant. Where is the master, boatswain?

Boats. Do you not hear him? You mar our labour! keep your cabins: you do assist the storm.

Gon. Nay, good, be patient.

Boats. When the sea is. Hence! What care these roarers for the name of king? To cabin: silence: trouble us not.

Gon. Good: yet remember whom thou hast on board. Boats. None that I more love than myself. You are a councillor; if you can command these elements to silence, and work the peace of the present, we will not hand a rope more; use your authority. If you cannot, give thanks that you have lived so long, and make yourself ready in the cabin for the mischance of the hour, if it so hap.-Cheerily, good hearts.-Out of our way, I say. [Exit.

Gon. 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. [Exeunt.

Re-enter BOATSWAIN.

Boats. Down with the top-mast; yare; lower, lower; bring her to try with main-course. [A cry within.\ A plague upon this howling! they are louder than the weather, or our office.

Re-enter SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, and GONZALO. Yet again? what do you here? Shall we give o'er, and drown? Have you a mind to sink?

Gon. Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea for an acre of barren ground; long heath, brown furze, any thing: The wills above be done! but I would fain die a dry death. [Exit.

SCENE II.-The Island: before the Cell of PROSPERO.

Enter PROSPERO and MIRANDA.

Mira. If by your art, my dearest father, you have Put the wild waters in this roar, allay them: The sky, it seems, would pour down stinking pitch, But that the sea, mounting to the welkin's cheek, Breathes the fire out. Oh! I have suffer'd With those that I saw suffer! a brave vessel, Who had no doubt some noble creatures in her, Dash'd all to pieces. Oh! the cry did knock Against my very heart! Poor souls! they perish'd. Had I been any god of power, I would Have sunk the sea within the earth, or e'er It should the good ship so have swallowed, and The freighting souls within her. Be collected; No more amazement: tell your piteous heart, There's no harm done.

Pro.

I have done nothing but in care of thee,
(Of thee, my dear one! thee, my daughter!) who
Art ignorant of what thou art, nought knowing
Of whence I am; nor that I am more better
Than Prospero, master of a full poor cell,
And thy no greater father.
Mira.

More to know
Did never meddle with my thoughts.
Pro.

"Tis time

I should inform thee further. Lend thy hand,
And pluck my magic garment from me.-So;
[Lays down his mantle.
Lie there my art.-Wipe thou thine eyes; have comfort.
The dire spectacle of the wreck, which touch'd
The very virtue of compassion in thee,

I have with such provision in mine art
So safely order'd, 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 further.

You have often

Mira. Begun to tell me what I am; but stopp'd And left me to a bootless inquisition; Concluding, Stay, not yet.

Pro.

The hour's now come;

The very minute bids thee ope thine ear;
Obey, and be attentive. Can'st thou remember

A time before we came unto this cell?

I do not think thou can'st; for then thou wast not

Mira. Certainly, Sir, I can. Pro. By what? by any other house or person ? Of anything the image tell me, that Hath kept with thy remembrance. Mira.

'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?

Pro. Thou had'st, and more, Miranda: But how is it,

Oh! my heart bleeds

To think o' the teen that I have turned you to,
Which is from my remembrance! Please you, further.
Pro. 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 lov'd, and to him put

The manage of my state; as, at that time,
Through all the signiories it was 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 wrapt in secret studies. Thy false uncle-
Dost thou attend me?

Pro. Being once perfected how to grant suits, How to deny them; whom to advance, and whom To trash for over-topping; new created

The creatures that were mine, I say, or chang'd them, Or else new-form'd them: having both the key

Of officer and office, set all hearts

To what tune pleas'd his ear; that now he was

The ivy, which had hid my princely trunk,

And suck'd my verdure out on't.-Thou attend'st not: I pray thee, mark me.

Mira.

O good sir, I do.

Pro. I thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicate
To closeness, and the bettering of my mind
With that which, but by being so retir'd,

O'er priz'd all popular rate, in my false brother
Awak'd an evil nature; and my trust,

Like a good parent, did beget of him

A falsehood, in its contrary as great

As my trust was, which had, indeed, no limit,

A confidence sans bound. He being thus lorded,
Not only with what my revenue yielded,

But what my power might else exact,-like one
Who having, unto truth, by telling of it,
Made such a sinner of his memory,
To credit his own lie,-he did believe
He was the duke; out of the substitution,
And executing the outward face of royalty,
With all prerogative.-Hence his ambition
Growing,-Dost hear?

Mira. Your tale, sir, would cure deafness.
Pro. To have no screen between this part he play'd
And him he play'd it for, he needs will be
Absolute Milan. Me, poor man!-my library
Was dukedom large enough. Of temporal royalties
He thinks me now incapable: confederates
(So dry he was for sway) with the King of Naples,
To give him annual tribute, do him homage;
Subject his coronet to his crown, and bend
The dukedom, yet unbow'd, (alas, poor Milan!)
To most ignoble stooping.

Mira.

Oh! the heavens !

Well demanded, wench.

My tale provokes that question. Dear, they durst not; (So dear the love my people bore me) nor set

A mark so bloody on the business; but
With colours fairer painted their foul ends.
In few, they hurried us aboard a bark;

Bore us some leagues to sea; where they prepar'd
A rotten carcass of a boat, not rigg'd,
Nor tackle, sail, nor mast: the very rats
Instinctively had quit it: there they hoist us,
To cry to the sea that roar'd to us; to sigh
To the winds, whose pity, sighing back again,
Did us but loving wrong.

Mira.

Was I then to you!

Pro.

Alack! what trouble

Oh! a cherubim

Sit still, and hear the last of our sea-sorrow.
Here in this island we arriv'd; 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.

Mira. Heavens thank you for't! And now I pray you, sir,

(For still 'tis beating in my mind,) your reason
For raising this sea-storm.

Pro.
Know thus far forth.-
By accident most strange, bountiful fortune,
Now, my dear lady, hath mine enemies
Brought to this shore; and, by my prescience,
I find my zenith doth depend upon

A most auspicious star, whose influence

If now I court not, but omit, my fortunes
Will ever after droop. Here cease more questions.
Thou art inclin'd to sleep: 'tis a good dulness,
And give it way.-I know thon can'st not choose.-
[Miranda sleeps.
Come away, servant, come: I am ready now.
Approach, my Ariel: come.

Enter ARIEL.

Ari. All hail, great master! grave sir, hail! I come To answer thy best pleasure; be't to fly,

To swim, to dive into the fire, to ride

On the curl'd clouds: to thy strong bidding task
Ariel, and all his quality.

Pro.
Hast thou, spirit,
Perform'd to point the tempest that I bade thee?
Ari. To every article.

I boarded the king's ship; now on the beak,
Now in the waist, the deck, in every cabin,
I flam'd amazement. Sometimes, I'd divide,
And burn in many places; on the top-mast,
The yards, and bowsprit, would I flame distinctly,
Then meet and join. Jove's lightnings, the precursors
O' the dreadful thunder-claps, more momentary
And sight-out-running were not. The fire and cracks
Of sulphurous roaring, the most mighty Neptune
Seem'd to besiege, and make his bold waves tremble,

Close by, my master.

Pro. But are they, Ariel, safe?
Ari.

Not a hair perish'd.
On their sustaining garments not a blemish,
But fresher than before; and, as thou bad'st me,
In troops I have disper'd them 'bout the isle.
The king's son have I landed by himself;
Whom I left cooling of the air with sighs,
In an odd angle of the isle, and sitting,
His arms in this sad knot.
Pro.
Of the king's ship,
The mariners, say, how thou has't dispos'd,
And all the rest o' the fleet.

Ari.

Safely in harbour

Is the king's ship; in the deep nook, where once
Thou call'st me up, at midnight, to fetch dew
From the still vex'd Bermoothes, there she's hid:
The mariners all under hatches stow'd;
Whom with a charm join'd to their suffer'd labour,
I have left asleep; and for the rest of the fleet,
Which I dispers'd, they all have met again,
And are upon the Mediterranean flote,
Bound sadly home for Naples;

Supposing that they saw the king's ship wreck'd,
And his great person perish.

Pro.

Ariel, thy charge Exactly is perform'd; but there's more work. What is the time o' the day?

Ari.

Past the mid season.

Pro. 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? Ari. No, sir. Pro.

Thou hast: where was she born? Speak: tell me. Ari. Sir, in Argier. Pro. Oh! was she so? I must, Once in a month, recount what thou hast been, Which thou forget'st. This damn'd witch, Sycorax, For mischiefs manifold, and sorceries terrible To enter human hearing, from Argier,

Thou know'st, was banish'd; for one thing she did, They would not take her life. Is not this true? Ari. Ay, sir.

Pro.This blue-ey'd hag was hither brought with child, And here was left by the sailors. Thou, my slave, As thou report'st thyself, was then her servant; And, for thou wast a spirit too delicate To act her earthly and abhorr'd commands, Refusing her grand hests, she did confine thee, By help of her more potent ministers, And in her most unmitigable rage,

Into a cloven pine; within which rift,
Imprison'd, thou 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.

Ari.
Yes: Caliban, her son.
Pro. Dull thing, I say so; he, that Caliban,
Whom now I keep in service. Thou best know'st
What torment I did find thee in. Thy groans
Did make wolves howl, and penetrate the breasts
Of ever-angry bears. It was a torment
To lay upon the damn'd, which Sycorax
Could not again undo. It was mine art,
When I arriv'd and heard thee, that made gape
The pine, and let thee out.

Ari.
I thank thee, master.
Pro. If thou more murmur'st, I will rend an oak,
And peg thee in his knotty entrails, till
Thou hast howl'd away twelve winters.

Ari.

Pardon, master.

I will be correspondent to command, And do my spiriting gently.

Pro.

I will discharge thee.

Do so; and after two days

Ari. That's my noble master! What shall I do? say what: what shall I do? Pro. Go make thyself like to a nymph o' the sea. Be subject to no sight but mine; invisible To every eye-ball else. Go, take this shape, And hither come in't: hence, with diligence.

[Exit Ariel. Awake, dear heart, awake! thou hast slept wel. Awake!

Mira. The strangeness of your story put Heaviness in me.

Pro.

Shake it off: come on. We'll visit Caliban, my slave, who never Yields us kind answer.

Mira.

I do not love to look on.

Pro.

'Tis a villain, sir,

But, as 'tis,

We cannot miss him: he does make our fire,
Fetch in our wood; and serve in offices
That profit us. What, ho! slave, Caliban!
Thou earth, thou! speak,

Cal. [Within.] There's wood enough within.
Pro. Come forth, I say: there's other business for
thee:

Come forth, thou tortoise! when?

Re-enter ARIEL, like a Water-Nymph.
Fine apparition! My quaint Ariel,
Hark in thine ear.

Ari.
My lord, it shall be done. [Exit.
Pro Thou poisionous slave, got by the devil himself
Upon thy wicked dam, come forth!

Enter CALIBAN.

Cal. As wicked dew as e'er my mother brush'd With raven's feather from unwholesome fen, Drop on you both! a south-west blow on ye, And blister ye all o'er.

Pro. For this, be sure, to-night thou shalt have cramps, Side-stitches, that shall pen thy breath up: urchins Shall, for that vast of night that they may work, All exercise on theo: thou shalt be pinch'd As thick as honey-combs, each pinch more stinging Than bees that made them.

Cal. I must eat my dinnner. This island's mine, by Sycorax my mother, Which thou tak'st from me. When thou camest first, Thou strok'dst me, and mad'st much of me; would'st

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 lov'd thee,
And show'd thee all the qualities o' the isle,
The fresh springs, brine pits, barren place, and fertile.
Cursed be I that did so P-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 ine
The rest of the island.

Took pains to make thee speak; taught thee each hour
One thing or other: when thou did'st not, savage,
Know thine own meaning, but would'st gabble like
A thing most brutish, I endow'd thy purposes
With words that made them known; but thy vile race,
Though thou did'st learn, had that in't which good
natures

Could not abide to be with. Therefore, wast thou
Deservedly confin'd into this rock,

Who had'st deserved more than a prison.

Cal. You taught me language; and my profit on't Is, I know how to curse: the red plague rid you, For learning me your language!

Pro.

Hag-seed, hence!
Fetch us in fuel; and be quick, thou wert 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.
Cal.

I must obey: his art is of such power,
It would control my dam's god, Setebos,
And make a vassal of him.

Pro.

No, pray thee !—

[Aside.

So, slave; hence!

[Exit CALIBAN.

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 :

Hark! now I hear them,-ding-dong, bell.
[Burden, ding-dong.

Fer. The ditty does remember my drown'd father:

This is no mortal business, nor no sound
That the earth owes: I hear it now above me.
Pro. The fringed curtains of thine eye advance,
and say, what thou seest yond'.

Mira.

What is't? a spirit?

My language! heavens!I am the best of them that speak this speech, Were I but where 'tis spoken.

How the best?

Pro.
What wert thou, if the king of Naples heard thee?
Fer. A single thing, as I am now, that wonders
To hear thee speak of Naples: He does hear me ;
And, that he does, I weep: myself am Naples;
Who, with mine eyes, ne'er since at ebb, beheld
The king, my father, wreck'd.
Mira.
Alack, for mercy!
Fer. Yes, faith, and all his lords; the duke of Milan
And his brave son, being twain.
Pro.
The duke of Milan,
And his more braver daughter, could control thee,
If now 'twere fit to do't:-At the first sight, [Aside.
They have chang'd eyes:-Delicate Ariel,
I'll set thee free for this!-A word, good sir:

I fear you have done yourself some wrong: a word.
Mira. Why speaks my father so ungently? This
Is the third man that e'er I saw; the first
That I e'er sighed for: pity move my father
To be inclin'd my way!

Fer.

Oh! if a virgin,

And your affection not gone forth, I'll make you The queen of Naples.

Pro.

Soft, sir; one word more.They are both in either's powers; but this swift business I must uneasy make, lest too light winning [Aside. Make the prize light.-One word more: I charge thee That thou attend me: thou dost here usurp The name thou ow'st not; and hast put thyself Upon this island, as a spy, to win it

From me, the lord on't.

Fer.

No, as I am a man.

Mira. There's nothing ill can dwell in such a temple: If the ill spirit have so fair an house, Good things will strive to dwell with't.

Pro.

Follow me.-[To FERD. Speak not you for him: he's a traitor.-Come. I'll manacle thy neck and feet together: Sea-water shalt thou drink thy food shall be The fresh brook muscles, wither'd roots and husks, Wherein the acorn cradled Follow.

Fer.

I will resist such entertainment, till
Mine enemy has more power.
Mira.

No:

[He draws.

O dear father, Make not too rash a trial of him, for He's gentle and not fearful.

Pro.

What, I say,

Come on: obey. [To FER. Thy nerves are in their infancy again, And have no vigour in them. Fer. So they are: My spirits, as in a dream, are all bound up. My father's loss, the weakness which I feel, The wreck of all my friends, or this man's threats, To whom I am subdued, are but light to me, Might I but through my prison once a day Behold this maid: all corners else o' the earth Let liberty make use of; space enough Have I in such a prison.

SCENE I.-Another Part of the Island. Enter ALONZO, 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
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

C'an speak like us: then wisely, good sir, weigh
Our sorrow with our comfort.

Adr. It must needs be of subtle, tender, and delicate temperance.

Ant. Temperance was a delicate wench.

Seb. Aye, and a subtle; as he most learnedly delivered.
Adr. The air breathes upon us here most sweetly.
Seb. As if it had lungs, and rotten ones.
Ant. Or, as 'twere perfum'd by a fen.

Gon. Here is every thing advantageous to life.
Ant. True; save means to live.

Scb. 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 dyed 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 Afric, 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.

Gon. Not since widow Dido's time.

Ant. Widow? a pox o' that! how came that widow in? Widow Dido!

Seb. What if he had said widower Æneas too? good lord, how you take it.

Adr. Widow Dido, said you? you make me study of that she was of Carthage, not of Tunis. Gon. This Tunis, sir, was Carthage.

Adr. Carthage?

Gon. I assure you, Carthage.

Ant. His word is more than the miraculous harp
Seb. He hath raised the wall, and houses too.

Ant. What impossible matter will he make easy next? Seb. I think he will carry this island home in his pocket, and give it his son for an apple.

Ant. And, sowing the kernels of it in the sea, bring forth more islands.

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. Oh! 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
Married my daughter there! for, coming thence,
My son is lost; and, in my rate, she too,
Who is so far from Italy remov'd,

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?

Fran.

Sir, he may live.

Gon. Had I plantation of this isle, my lord,Ant. He'd sow it with nettle-seed. Seb. Or docks, or mallows. Gon. And were the king of it, what would I do? Seb. 'Scape being drunk, for want of wine. Gon. I' the 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; no use of service, Of riches, or of poverty; no contracts, Successions; 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 innocen and pure: No sovereignty :