Imagens das páginas
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Your tale, sir, would cure deafness. Pros. 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

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How came we ashore? Pros. By Providence divine.

Some food we had and some fresh water that 160
A noble Neapolitan, Gonzalo,

Out of his charity, who being then appointed
Master of this design, did give us, with

Was dukedom large enough: of temporal royal-Rich garments, linens, stuffs and necessaries, ties

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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.
O the heavens !

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.
Would I might

But ever see that man!


Pros. Now I arise: [Resumes his mantle.

Pros. Mark his condition and the event; then Sit still, and hear the last of our sea-sorrow. 170 tell me

If this might be a brother.


I should sin

To think but nobly of my grandmother:
Good wombs have borne bad sons.

Now the condition. 120
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 purpose did Antonio open

The gates of Milan, and, i' the dead of dark130


The ministers for the purpose hurried thence Me and thy crying self.


Alack, for pity!

I, not remembering how I cried out then,


cry it o'er again: it is a hint

That wrings mine eyes to't.


Hear a little further

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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 have 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, 150
Did us but loving wrong.
Was I then to you!

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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 180
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.

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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.

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

Not a soul
But felt a fever of the mad and play'd
Some tricks of desperation. All but mariners 210
Plunged in the foaming brine and quit the vessel,

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But was not this nigh shore?

Close by, my master.
Pros. But are they, Ariel, safe?
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. 220
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.

Of the king's ship
The mariners say how thou hast disposed
And all the rest o' the fleet.

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.

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

Past the mid season.

Pros. At least two glasses. The time 'twixt
six and now


Must by us both be spent most preciously.
Ari. 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.

How now ? moody?
What is't thou canst demand?
My liberty.
Pros. Before the time be out? no more!
I prithee,
Remember I have done thee worthy service;
Told thee no lies, made thee no mistakings,

Without or grudge or grumblings: thou didst

To bate me a full year.


Dost thou forget


From what a torment I did free thee?


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Thou hast. Where was she b-orn?


speak; tell me.
Ari. Sir, in Argier.
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?
Ari. Ay, sir.

Pros. 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



As fast as mill-wheels strike. Then was this

Save for the son that she did litter here,
A freckled whelp hag-born-not honour'd with
A human shape.


Yes, Caliban her son.


Pros. 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.
I thank thee, master.
Pr. 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.

Pardon, master;

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

Do so, and after two days

I will discharge thee.
That's my noble master!
What shall I do? say what; what shall I do? 300
Pros. Go make thyself like a nymph o' the sea:
be subject

To no sight but thine and mine, invisible
250 To every eyeball else. Go take this shape
And hither come in't: go, hence with diligence!
[Exit Ariel.

Pros. Thou dost, and think'st it much to tread Awake, dear heart, awake! thou hast slept well;

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That profit us. What, ho! slave! Caliban!
Thou earth, thou speak..

Cal. [Within] There's wood enough within. Pros. 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. Ari. My lord, it shall be done. [Exit. Pros. Thou poisonous slave, got by the devil himself

Upon thy wicked dam, come forth!



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 you all o'er!

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Is, I know how to curse. The red plague rid you For learning me your language!


Pros. 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 Fill all thy bones with aches, make thee roar 370 That beasts shall tremble at thy din. Cal. No, pray thee. [Aside] I must obey: his art is of such power, It would control my dam's god, Setebos, And make a vassal of him.

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Pros. For this, be sure, to-night thou shalt Re-enter ARIEL, invisible, playing and singing; have cramps,

up; urchins

Side-stitches that shall pen thy breath
Shall, for that vast of night that they may work,
All exercise on thee; thou shalt be pinch'd
As thick as honeycomb, each pinch more stinging
Than bees that made 'em.

I must eat my dinner. 330
This island's mine, by Sycorax my mother,
Which thou takest from me. When thou camest

Thou strokedst me and madest much of me, wouldst 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 loved

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! All the charms
Of Sycorax, toads, beetles, bats, light on you!
For I am all the subjects that you have, 341
Which first was mine own king: and here you

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FERDINAND following.

ARIEL'S song.

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Which any print of goodness wilt not take,
Being capable of all ill! I pitied thee,
Took pains to make thee speak, taught thee each

One thing or other: when thou didst not, savage,
Know thine own meaning, but wouldst gabble like
A thing most brutish, I endow'd thy purposes
With words that made them known. But thy vile


Though thou didst learn, had that in't which good natures

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:
Burthen. Ding-dong-
Hark! now I hear them,---Ding-dong, bell.

Fer. The ditty does remember my

This is no mortal business, nor no sound
That the earth owes. I hear it now above me..
Pros. The fringed curtains of thine eye advance
And say what thou seest yond.
What is't? a spirit?
Lord, how it looks about! Believe me, sir, 410
It carries a brave form. But 'tis a spirit.

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And his brave son being twain.
[Aside] The Duke of Milan
And his more braver daughter could control thee,
If now 'twere fit to do't. At the first sight
They have changed eyes. Delicate Ariel,
I'll set thee free for this. [To Fer.] A word, good

I fear you have done yourself some wrong: a word.
Mir. 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 inclined my way!


O, if a virgin,

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

Pros. Soft, sir! one word more. [Aside] They are both in either's powers; but this swift business


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I'll be his surety.
Shall make me chide thee, if not hate thee. What!
An advocate for an impostor! hush!

Thou think'st there is no more such shapes as he,
Having seen but him and Caliban: foolish wench!
To the most of men this is a Caliban
And they to him are angels.


Mir. My affections Are then most humble; I have no ambition To see a goodlier man. Pros. Come on; obey: Thy nerves are in their infancy again And have no vigour in them. Fer. 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, nor this man's threats,

So they are;

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.


Pros. [Aside] It works. [To Fer.] Come on. Thou hast done well, fine Ariel! [To Fer.] Follow me.

[To Ari.] Hark what thou else shalt do me.
Be of comfort;
My father's of a better nature, sir,
Than he appears by speech: this is unwonted
Which now came from him.
Thou shalt be as free
As mountain winds: but then exactly do
All points of my command.

To the syllable. 500 Pros. Come, follow. Speak not for him.



SCENE I. Another part of the island.

ADRIAN, FRANCISCO, and others.
Gon. Beseech you, sir, be merry; you have

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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. 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

Gon. When every grief is entertain'd that's study of that: she was of Carthage, not of Tunis. offer'd,

Comes to the entertainer

Seb. A dollar.

Gon. Dolour comes to him, indeed: you have spoken truer than you purposed.



You have taken it wiselier than I meant you should.

Gon. Therefore, my lord,

Gon. This Tunis, sir, was Carthage.
Adr. Carthage?

Gon. I assure you, Carthage.

Seb. His word is more than the miraculous harp; 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

Ant. Fie, what a spendthrift is he of his his pocket and give it his son for an apple. tongue!

Alon. I prithee, spare.

Gon. Well, I have done: but yet,

Seb. He will be talking.

Ant. Which, of he or Adrian, for a good wager,

first begins to crow?


The old cock.

Ant. The cockerel.

Seb. Done. The wager?

Ant. A laughter.

Seb. A match!

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Adr. Uninhabitable and almost inaccessible,-
Seb. Yet,-

Adr. Yet,

Ant. He could not miss 't.


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

Seb. As if it had lungs and rotten ones.
Ant. Or as 'twere perfumed by a fen.
Gon. Here is every thing advantageous to life.
Ant. True; save means to live.

Seb. Of that there's none, or little.


Gon. How lush and lusty the grass looks! how


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 vouched 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 stained with salt water.

Ant. If but one of his pockets could speak, would it not say he lies?

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'Bove the contentious waves he kept, and oar'd
Himself with his good arms in lusty stroke
To the shore, that o'er his wave-worn basis bow'd,
As stooping to relieve him: I not doubt
He came alive to land.
No, no, he's gone.
Seb. Sir, you may thank yourself for this great

That would not bless our Europe with your

But rather lose her to an African;
Where she at least is banish'd from your eye,
Who hath cause to wet the grief on't.

Prithee, peace.

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