ing their freshness and glosses; being rather To the shore, that o'er his wave-worn basis new dyed, than stain'd with salt water. bow'd, Ant. If but one of his pockets could speak, As stooping to relieve him. I not doubt, would it not say, he lies? He came alive to land. [port. Seb. Ay, or very falsely pocket up his reGon. 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. Alon. No, no, he's gone. [great loss, Seb. Sir, you may thank yourself for this That would not bless our Europe with your But rather lose her to an African; [daughter, Where she, at least, is banish'd from your eye, Seb. 'Twas a sweet marriage, and we pros-Who hath cause to wet the grief on 't. per well in our return. Pr'ythee, peace. Adr. Tunis was never graced before with such a paragon to their queen. Gon. Not since widow Dido's time. Alon. Seb. You were kneel'd to, and importun'd otherwise By all of us, and the fair soul herself Ant. Widow? a pox o' that! How came Weigh'd between loathness and obedience, at 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. Gon. I assure you, Carthage. [harp. Ant. His word is more than the miraculous 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. [To Alon.] 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 [never The stomach of my sense. Would I had Married my daughter there! for, coming thence, My son is lost; and, in my rate, she too, I ne'er again shall see her. O thou, mine heir Which end o' the beam should bow. We have lost your son, I fear, for ever: Milan and Naples have Very well. Ant. And most chirurgeonly. Gon. It is foul weather in us all, good sir, When you are cloudy. Seb. Foul weather? Ant. Very foul. Gon. Had I plantation of this isle, my lord,Ant. He'd sow't with nettle-seed. Seb. Or docks, or mallows. Gon. And were the king on't, what would I do? Seb. 'Scape being drunk, for want of wine. Gon. I' the commonwealth I would by con traries Execute all things; for no kind of traffic Gon. All things in common nature should produce, Without sweat or endeavour : treason, felony, Of its own kind, all foison, all abundance, Seb. No marrying 'mong his subjects? Gon. I would with such perfection govern, To excel the golden age. [sir, Seb. 'Save his majesty! Ant. Long live Gonzalo ! Gon. 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. Ant. 'Twas you we laugh'd at. Gon. Who, in this kind of merry fooling, am nothing to you; so you may continue, and laugh at nothing still. Ant. What a blow was there given ! Seb. An it had not fallen flat-long. Gon. 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. Enter Ariel, invisible, playing solemn music. Seb. We would so, and then go a batfowling. Ani. Nay, good my lord, be not angry. Gon. No, I warrant you; I will not adventure my discretion so weakly. Will you laugh me asleep, for I am very heavy? Ant. Go sleep, and hear us. [All sleep but Alon., Seb., and Ant. Alon. What, all so soon asleep! I wish mine eyes Would, with themselves, shut up my thoughts: Do not omit the heavy offer of it: [rest, Thank you: wondrous heavy. [Alonso sleeps. Exit Ariel. Seb. What a strange drowsiness possesses them! Ant. It is the quality o' the climate. Seb. Why Doth it not, then, our eyelids sink? I find not Myself dispos'd to sleep. Ant. Nor I: my spirits are nimble. They fell together all, as by consent; They dropp'd as by a thunder-stroke. What might, [more: Worthy Sebastian?-O! what might ?-No My strong imagination sees a crown What, art thou waking? Ant. Noble Sebastian, Thou let'st thy fortune sleep,-die, rather; Whiles thou art waking. Seb. [wink'st Thou dost snore distinctly; Seb. Do so to ebb, Hereditary sloth instructs me. Ant. 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, [on : By their own fear, or sloth. Seb. Pr'ythee, say The setting of thine eye, and cheek, proclaim A matter from thee; and a birth, indeed, Which throes thee much to yield. Ant. Thus, sir: Although this lord of weak remembrance, this Who shall be of as little memory, When he is earth'd, 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 undrown'd, Ant. I have no hope O, out of that no hope, What great hope have you! no hope, that way, is Another way so high a hope, that even [with me, He's gone. Who's the next heir of Naples? Seb. Claribel. Ant. She that is queen of Tunis; she that dwells [from Naples Ten leagues beyond man's life; she that Can have no note, unless the sun were post, (The man i' the moon's too slow,) till new 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 Ant. 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 [no worse [moving, That now hath seiz'd them; why, they were I remember, You did supplant your brother Prospero. Ant. True: What's the matter? Gon. Even now, we heard a hollow burst of bellow- Ant. O, 'twas a din to fright a monster's car, To make an earthquake? sure it was the roar Alon. [me. And look how well my garments sit upon me; And that a strange one too, which did awake Much feater than before; my brother's serv- I shak'd you, sir, and cry'd; as mine eyes open'd, ants Were then my fellows; now they are my men. Seb. So, king, go safely on to seek thy son. [Exit. 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, 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. 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 choose but fall by pailfuls.-What have we here? a man or a fish? Dead or Trin. I should know that voice: it should be-but he is drowned, and these are devils. O! defend me! alive? A fish: he smells like a fish; a very Cal. Thou dost me yet but little hurt; thou ancient and fish-like smell; a kind of not of wilt anon, I know it by thy trembling: now the newest Poor-John. A strange fish! Prosper works upon thee. Were I in England now, (as once I was,) and Ste. Come on your ways: open your had but this fish painted, not a holiday fool mouth; here is that which will give language there but would give a piece of silver: there to you, cat; open your mouth: this will would this monster make a man; any strange shake your shaking, I can tell you, and that beast there makes a man: when they will not soundly: you cannot tell who's your friend; give a doit to relieve a lame beggar, they will open your chaps again. lay out ten to see a dead Indian. Legg'd 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, Ste. Four legs, and two voices; a most that hath lately suffered by a thunderbolt. delicate monster! His forward voice, now, is [Thunder.] Alas! the storm is come again: to speak well of his friend; his backward voice my best way is to creep under his gaberdine; is, to utter foul speeches, and to detract. If all there is no other shelter hereabout: misery the wine in my bottle will recover him, I will acquaints a man with strange bedfellows. I help his ague. Come. Amen! I will pour will here shroud, till the dregs of the storm be some in thy other mouth. past. Enter Stephano, singing; a bottle in his hand. Ste. 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. [Drinks, Then, to sea, boys, and let her go hang. 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 'scaped drowning, to be afeared 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's 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. 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 ani 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 thunder-stroke. But art thou not drowned, Stephano? 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, Stephano? O Stephano! two Neapolitans 'scaped! Ste. Pr'ythee, do not turn me about; my stomach is not constant. Cal. [Aside.] These be fine things, an if Ste. 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 overboard, by this bottle! which I made of the bark of a tree, with mine own hands, since I was cast ashore. Cal. I'll swear, upon that bottle, to be thy true subject; for the liquor is not earthly. Ste. Here: swear, then, how thou escapedst. Trin. Swam ashore, man, like a duck: 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. la Trin. O Stephano! hast any more of this? Ste. The whole butt, man: my cellar is in 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? Ste. Out o' the moon, I do assure thee: I was the man in the moon, when time was. Cal. I have seen thee in her, and I do adore thee; my mistress showed me thee, and thy dog, and thy bush. ACT III. SCENE I.-Before Prospero's Cell. Enter Ferdinand, bearing a log. Fer. There be some sports are painful, and their labour [ness Delight in them sets off: some kinds of baseSte. Come, swear to that; kiss the book; Are nobly undergone; and most poor matters I will furnish it anon with new contents; swear. Point to rich ends. This my mean task Trin. By this good light, this is a very Would be as heavy to me, as odious; but shallow monster.-I afeard of him?-a very The mistress, which I serve, quickens what's weak monster.-The man i' the moon? a most dead, poor credulous monster!-Well drawn, mon- And makes my labours pleasures: O! she is ster, in good sooth. [island; Ten times more gentle than her father's Cal. I'll show thee every fertile inch o' the| And I will 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 subject. Ste. Come on then; down, and swear. Trin. I shall laugh myself to death at this puppy-headed 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 show thee the best springs; pluck thee berries; I'll I'll fish for thee, and get thee wood enough. crabbed, [move And he's composed of harshness. I must reSome 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: father Is hard at study; pray now, rest yourself: Fer. Trin. A most ridiculous monster! to make What I must strive to do. 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; Show thee a jay's-nest, and instruct thee how To snare the nimble marmozet; I'll bring thee To clust ring filberts, and sometimes I'll get thee [with me? Young scamels from the rock. Wilt thou go Ste. I pr'ythee 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 bottle.-Fellow Trinculo, we'll fill him by and by again. Cal. Farewell, master; farewell, farewell. [Sings drunkenly. Trin. A howling monster, a drunken Mira. If you'll sit down, Pro. [Aside.] Poor worm! thou art infected; When you are by at night. I do beseech you,- Mira. Miranda. O my father! Brought my too diligent ear: for several virtues |