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| ALONSO | King of Naples
| SEBASTIAN
| his brother
| PROSPERO
| the right Duke of Milan
| ANTONIO
| his brother, the usurping Duke of Milan
| FERDINAND
| son to the King of Naples
| GONZALO
| an honest old Counsellor
| ADRIAN &
| FRANCISCO )
| ) Lords. CALIBAN
| a savage and deformed slave
| TRINCULO
| a jester
| STEPHANO
| a drunken butler
| Master of a ship (Master:)
| Boatswain (Boatswain:)
| Mariners (Mariners:)
| MIRANDA
| daughter to Prospero
| ARIEL
| an airy Spirit
| IRIS
| CERES JUNO Nymphs Reapers )
| ) ) presented by Spirits. ) ) Other Spirits attending on Prospero
| |
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[Enter a Master and a Boatswain]
| Master
| Boatswain!
| Boatswain
| Here, master: what cheer?
| Master
| Good, speak to the mariners: fall to't, yarely,
| or we run ourselves aground: bestir, bestir. [Exit]
| [Enter Mariners]
| Boatswain
| 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,
| GONZALO, and others] ALONSO
| Good boatswain, have care. Where's the master?
| 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
| 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 way, I say. [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. [Exeunt]
| [Re-enter Boatswain]
| Boatswain
| Down with the topmast! 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? 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. 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. [Enter Mariners wet]
| Mariners
| All lost! to prayers, to prayers! all lost!
| 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-chapp'd rascal--would thou mightst lie drowning The washing of ten tides! GONZALO
| He'll be hang'd yet,
| Though every drop of water swear against it And gape at widest 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!'] ANTONIO
| Let's all sink with the king.
| SEBASTIAN
| Let's take leave of him.
| [Exeunt ANTONIO and SEBASTIAN]
| GONZALO
| 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. [Exeunt]
| |
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[Enter PROSPERO 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 the 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, 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 ere It should the good ship so have swallow'd 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, 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. 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. So: [Lays down his mantle]
| 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 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
| You have often
| Begun to tell me what I am, but stopp'd 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 any thing 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 abysm of time? If thou remember'st aught ere thou camest here, How thou camest 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 thou 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 say'st, were we heaved thence, But blessedly holp hither. MIRANDA
| O, my heart bleeds
| To think o' the teen that I have turn'd you to, Which is from my remembrance! Please you, farther. PROSPERO
| 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 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 to advance and who To trash for over-topping, new created The creatures that were mine, I say, or changed 'em, Or else new form'd 'em; having both the key Of officer and office, set all hearts i' the state To what tune pleased 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. 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-prized 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 of it, Made such a sinner of his memory, To credit his own lie, he did believe He was indeed the duke; out o' the substitution And executing the 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 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--wi' 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. MIRANDA
| O the heavens!
| PROSPERO
| Mark his condition and the 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.
| The 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 purpose 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. MIRANDA
| Alack, for pity!
| I, not remembering how I cried out then, Will cry it o'er again: it is a hint That wrings mine eyes to't. PROSPERO
| 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 bark, Bore us some leagues to sea; where they prepared 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. MIRANDA
| Alack, what trouble
| Was I then to you! PROSPERO
| 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 burthen groan'd; 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, 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 furnish'd 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:
| [Resumes his mantle]
| 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 princesses 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 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. [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 curl'd clouds, to thy strong bidding task Ariel and all his quality. PROSPERO
| Hast thou, spirit,
| Perform'd 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 waist, the deck, in every cabin, I flamed amazement: sometime I'ld 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. 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 play'd 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 up-staring,--then like reeds, not hair,-- Was the first man that leap'd; 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 perish'd;
| On their sustaining garments not a blemish, But fresher than before: and, as thou badest 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' the fleet. ARIEL
| Safely in harbour
| 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; Who, with a charm join'd to their suffer'd labour, I have left asleep; and for the rest o' the fleet Which I dispersed, 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. PROSPERO
| Ariel, thy charge
| Exactly is perform'd: but there's more work. What is the time o' the 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 perform'd 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 didst 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' the 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 Argier.
| PROSPERO
| O, 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? ARIEL
| Ay, sir.
| PROSPERO
| This blue-eyed hag was hither brought with child
| And here was left by the sailors. Thou, my slave, As thou report'st thyself, wast then her servant; And, for thou wast a spirit too delicate To act her earthy 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 honour'd 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 damn'd, 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 howl'd away twelve winters. |