Boats. Here, master: what cheer?
Mast. Good. Speak to the mariners: fall to't
yarely, or we run ourselves aground: bestir, bestir. [Exit.
Enter Mariners.

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

Enter ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, FERDINAND, GON-
ZALO, and Others, from the Cabin.
Alon. Good boatswain, have a care.
master? Play the men.

Boats. I pray now, keep below.

Ant. Where is the master, boatswain?

Where's the

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 aboard. Boats. None that I more love than myself. You are a counsellor 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 you have lived so long, and make yourself ready in your cabin for the mischance of the hour, if it so hap.-Cheerly, good hearts!-Out of our [Exit.

way, I say.

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?

Seb. A poxo' your throat, you bawling, blasphemous, incharitable dog!

Boats. Work you, then.

Ant. Hang, cur, hang! you whoreson, insolent noisemaker, we are less afraid to be drowned than thou art. Gon. I'll warrant him for drowning; though the ship were no stronger than a nutshell, and as leaky as an unstanched wench.

Boats. Lay her a-hold, a-hold. Set her two courses: off to sea again; lay her off.

Enter Mariners, wet.
Mar. All lost! to prayers, to prayers! all lost! [Exeunt.
Boats. What! must our mouths be cold?
Gon. The king and prince at prayers! let us assist them.
For our case is as theirs.

Seb. I am out of patience.

Ant. We are merely cheated of our lives by drunk-
ards.-

This wide-chapp'd rascal,—would, thou might'st lie
drowning,
The washing of ten tides!

Gon.

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.] Mercy on us!We split, we split !-Farewell, my wife and children!— Farewell, brother!-We split, we split, we split !— Gon. I have great comfort from this fellow: meAnt. Let's all sink with the king. thinks, he hath no drowning mark upon him; his Seb. Let's take leave of him. complexion is perfect gallows. Stand fast, good fate, Gon. Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea to his hanging: make the rope of his destiny our cable, for an acre of barren ground; long heath, brown furze, for our own doth little advantage. If he be not born any thing. The wills above be done! but I would fain to be hanged, our case is miserable. [Exeunt. die a dry death.

[Exit. [Exit.

[Exit.

B

2

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 heat,
Dashes the fire out. O! 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. O! 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 swallow'd, and
The fraughting souls within her.

Pro.

Be collected: No more amazement. Tell your piteous heart, There's no harm done.

Mira.
Pro.

O, woe the day!

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, 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

'Tis time

Did never meddle with my thoughts.

Pro.
I should inform thee farther. Lend thy hand,
And pluck my magic garment from me.-So:

[Lays down his robe.
Lie there my art.-Wipe thou thine eyes; have comfort.
The direful spectacle of the wreck, which touch'd
The very virtue of compassion in thee,

I have with such prevision 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

O! my heart bleeds
To think o' the teen that I have turn'd you to,
Which is from my remembrance. Please you, farther.
Pro. My brother, and thy uncle, call'd 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 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?

Mira.

Sir, most heedfully.

Pro. Being once perfected how to grant suits,
How to deny them, whom t'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 i' the state
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.
Mira. O good sir! I do.
Pro.
pray thee, mark me.
I thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicated

I

Which thou heard'st cry, which thou saw'st sink. Sit To closeness, and the bettering of my mind

With that, which but by being so retired 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, He being thus loaded, The hour's now come, A confidence sans bound. The very minute bids thee ope thine ear; Not only with what my revenue yielded, Obey, and be attentive. Canst thou remember But what my power might else exact,-like one, A time before we came unto this cell? Who having to untruth, by telling of it, Made such a sinner of his memory, I do not think thou canst, for then thou wast not Out three years old.

Pro.

To credit his own lie,-he did believe

He was indeed the duke; out o' the substitution,
And executing th' outward face of royalty,
With all prerogative :-hence his ambition
Growing, Dost thou hear?

Your tale, sir, would cure deafness.
Mira.
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.
O the heavens !
Pro. Mark his condition, and th' event; then tell me,

If this might be a brother.
Mira.
I should sin
To think but nobly of my grandinother:
Good wombs have borne bad sons.
Pro.

Now the condition.
This king of Naples, being an enemy
To me inveterate, hearkens my brother's suit;
Which was, that he in lieu o' the premises,-
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 the practise, did Antonio open

The gates of Milan; and, i' the dead of darkness,
The ministers for the purpose hurried thence
Me, and thy crying self.
Mira.

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.

Pro.

Hear a little farther,
And then I'll bring thee to the present business
Which now's upon's; without the which this story
Were most impertinent.
Mira.

That hour destroy us?

Pro.

Wherefore did they not

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.

Alack! what trouble

O! a cherubim

Thou wast, that did preserve me.
Thou didst smile,
Infused with a fortitude from heaven,
When I have deck'd the sea with drops full salt,
Under my burden groan'd; which rais'd in me
An undergoing stomach, to bear up
Against what should ensue.

Mira.

How came we ashore?

Pro. 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 lov'd my books, he furnish'd me,
From my own library, with volumes that
I prize above my dukedom.

Mira.

But ever see that man!

Would I might

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 thou canst not choose.—
[MIRANDA sleeps.
Come away, servant, come! I am ready now.
Approach, my Ariel: come!

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 topmast,
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-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.

Pro.
My brave spirit!
Who was so firm, so constant, that this coil
Would not infect his reason?

Ari.
Not a soul
But felt a fever of the mad, and play'd
Some tricks of desperation. All, but mariners,
Plung'd in the foaming brine, and quit the vessel,
Then all a-fire with me: the king's son, Ferdinand,
With hair up-staring (then like reeds, not hair)
Was the first man that leap'd; cried, "Hell is empty,
And all the devils are here."

[Puts on his robe again. Is the king's ship; in the deep nook, where once
Thou call'dst me up at midnight to fetch dew
From the still-vex'd Bermoothes, there she's hid :
The mariners all under hatches stow'd;

Pro.
Now I arise:-
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.

Whom, with a charm joined to their suffer'd labour,
I have left asleep and for the rest o' the fleet

Mira. Heavens thank you for 't! And now, I pray Which I dispers'd, they all have met again,
you, sir,

And all upon the Mediterranean float,

Awake, dear heart, awake! thou hast slept well;
Awake!

Mira. The strangeness of your story put [Waking.
Heaviness in me.
Shake it off. Come on:
We'll visit Caliban, my slave, who never

Pro. Thou dost; and think'st it much, to tread the ooze Yields us kind answer. 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 bak'd with frost.

I do not love to look on.
Pro.
But, as 'tis,
We cannot miss him: he does make our fire,
Fetch in our wood, and serves in offices
That profit us.-What ho! slave! Caliban!
Thou earth, thou! speak.

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

Re-enter ARIEL, like a water-nymph.

Fine apparition! My quaint Ariel,
Hark in thine ear.

Which any print of goodness will 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 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 didst learn, had that in't which good natures
Could not abide to be with: therefore wast thou
Deservedly confin'd into this rock,

Who hadst deserv'd 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'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.

Cal.

:

No, pray thee!

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

[Aside.

Pro.
So, slave; hence! [Exit CALIBAN.
Re-enter ARIEL, invisible, playing and singing; FERDI-
NAND following.
ARIEL'S Song,

Come unto these yellow sands,

And then take hands:
Court'sied when you have, and kiss'd
The wild waves whist,

Foot it featly here and there;
And, sweet sprites, the burden bear.
Hark, hark!

Burden. Bow, wow.

Hark, hark! I hear

The strain of strutting chanticlere
Cry, cock-a-doodle-doo.

[Dispersedly.

Fer. 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 follow'd it,
Or it hath drawn me rather :-but 'tis gone.-
No, it begins again.

ARIEL sings.
Full fathom five thy father lies;

Of his bones are coral made;
Those are pearls that were his eyes:
Nothing of him that doth fade,
But doth suffer a sea-change
Into something rich and strange.
Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell:

[Burden ding-dong.

Hark! now I hear them,-ding-dong, bell. Fer. The ditty does remember my drown'd father.

This is no mortal business, nor no sound
That the earth owes.-I hear it now above me.

[Music above.
Pro. The fringed curtains of thine eye advance
And say, what thou seest yond'.
Mira.

What is't? a spirit?
Lord, how it looks about! Believe me, sir,
It carries a brave form :-but 'tis a spirit.

Pro. 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 stain'd
With grief, that's beauty's canker, thou might'st call him
A goodly person. He hath lost his fellows,
And strays about to find 'em.

Mira.

I might call him
A thing divine, for nothing natural
I ever saw so noble.
Pro.
It goes on, I see, [Aside.
As my soul prompts it.-Spirit, fine spirit! I'll free thee
Within two days for this.

Fer.
Most sure, the goddess [Seeing her.
On whom these airs attend!-Vouchsafe, my prayer
May know if you remain upon this island, [Kneels.
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?
Mira.

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

Pro.

How! the best?
What wert thou, if the king of Naples heard thee?
Fer. A single thing, as I am now, that wonders
To hear thee speak of Naples. He does hear me,
And that he does I weep: myself am Naples;
Who with mine eyes, ne'er since at ebb, beheld
The king, my father, wreck'd.
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.-[Aside.] At the first sight
They have chang'd eyes:-delicate Ariel,

I'll set thee free for this!-[To him.] 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 e'er I sigh'd for. Pity move my father
To be inclin'd my way!