Another way so high a hope, that even
Ambition cannot pierce a winke beyond
But doubt discovery there.

That Ferdinand is drown'd.

Seb. He's gone.

Will you grant with me

Ant. Then tell me, who's the next heire of Naples? Seb. Claribell.

271

Ant. She that is Queene of Tunis: she that dwels Ten leagues beyond mans life: she that from Naples Can have no note, unlesse the Sun were post: The Man i'th Moone's too slow, till new-borne chinnes Be rough, and Razor-able: She that from whom We all were sea-swallow'd, though some cast againe, (And by that destiny) to performe an act Whereof, what's past is Prologue; what to come In yours, and my discharge.

Seb. What stuffe is this? How say you?

'Tis true my brothers daughter's Queene of Tunis, So is she heyre of Naples, 'twixt which Regions 280 There is some space.

Ant. A space, whose ev'ry cubit

Seemes to cry out, how shall that Claribell
Measure us backe to Naples? keepe in Tunis,

And let Sebastian wake. Say, this were death
That now hath seiz'd them, why they were no worse
Then now they are: There be that can rule Naples
As well as he that sleepes: Lords, that can prate
As amply, and unnecessarily

As this Gonzallo: I my selfe could make

A Chough of as deepe chat: O, that you bore
The minde that I do; what a sleepe were this
For your advancement? Do you understand me?

267. new 1. at Who's-POPE.

290

If 'twere a kybe3

300

And looke how well my Garments sit upon me,
Much feater then before: My Brothers servants
Were then my fellowes, now they are my men.
Seb. But for your conscience.
Ant. I Sir: where lies that?
'Twould put me to my slipper: But I feele not
This Deity in my bosome: 'Twentie consciences
That stand 'twixt me, and Millaine, candied be they,
And melt ere they mollest: Heere lies your Brother,
No better then the earth he lies upon,

309

If he were that which now hee's like (that's dead)
Whom I with this obedient steele (three inches of it)
Can lay to bed for ever: whiles you doing thus,
To the perpetuall winke for aye might put
This ancient morsell: this Sir Prudence, who
Should not upbraid our course: for all the rest
They'l take suggestion, as a Cat laps milke,
They'l tell the clocke, to any businesse that
We say befits the houre.

Seb. Thy case, deere Friend

Shall be my president: As thou got'st Millaine, 320 I'le come by Naples: Draw thy sword, one stroke Shall free thee from the tribute which thou paiest,

And I the King shall love thee.

Ant. Draw together:

And when I reare my hand, do you the like

298. Brothet: brother-2-4F.

320. president: precedent-POPE.

To fall it on Gonzalo.

Seb. O, but one word.

[They talk apart.]

Enter Ariell [invisible] with Musicke and Song.

Ariel. My Master through his Art foresees the danger That you (his friend) are in, and sends me forth 330 (For else his project dies) to keepe them living.

Sings in Gonzaloes eare.

While you here do snoaring lie,

Open-ey'd Conspiracie

His time doth take:

If of Life you keepe a care,

Shake off slumber and beware.
Awake, awake.

Ant. Then let us both be sodaine.

Gon. Now, good Angels preserve the King.

340

[They wake.] Alo. Why how now hoa; awake? why are you drawn? Wherefore this ghastly looking? 1 with swords out

Gon. What's the matter? Seb. Whiles we stood here securing your repose, (Even now) we heard a hollow burst of bellowing Like Buls, or rather Lyons, did't not wake you? It strooke mine eare most terribly.

Alo. I heard nothing.

Ant. O, 'twas a din to fright a Monsters eare;
To make an earthquake: sure it was the roare
Of a whole heard of Lyons.

Alo. Heard you this Gonzalo?

350

Gon. Upon mine honour, Sir, I heard a humming, (And that a strange one too) which did awake me: I shak'd you Sir, and cride: as mine eyes opend,

340. new 1. at Preserve-STAUNTON.

I saw their weapons drawne: there was a noyse,
That's verily: 'tis best we stand upon our guard;
Or that we quit this place: let's draw our weapons.
Alo. Lead off this ground & let's make further search
For my poore sonne.
360

Gon. Heavens keepe him from these Beasts:
For he is sure i'th Island.

Alo. Lead away.

Ariell. Prospero my Lord, shall know what I have done.

So (King) goe safely on to seeke thy Son. Exeunt.

Scœna Secunda.

[Another part of the island.]

Enter Caliban, with a burthen of Wood (a noyse of Thunder beard.)

Cal. All the infections that the Sunne suckes up From Bogs, Fens, Flats, on Prosper fall, and make him By ynch-meale a disease: his Spirits heare me, And yet I needes must curse. But they'll nor pinch, Fright me with Urchyn-shewes, pitch me i'th mire, Nor lead me like a fire-brand, in the darke Out of my way, unlesse he bid 'em; but For every trifle, are they set upon me, Sometime like Apes, that moe and chatter at me, And after bite me: then like Hedg-hogs, which Lye tumbling in my bare-foote way, and mount Their pricks at my foot-fall: sometime am I All wound with Adders, who with cloven tongues Doe hisse me into madnesse: Lo, now Lo, Enter Here comes a Spirit of his, and to torment me Trinculo.

12. moe: mow-DYCE.

For bringing wood in slowly: I'le fall flat,
Perchance he will not minde me.

20

Tri. Here's neither bush, nor shrub to beare off any weather at all: and another Storme brewing, I heare it sing ith' winde: yond same blacke cloud, yond huge one, lookes like a foule bumbard1 that would shed his licquor: if it should thunder, as it did before, I know not where to hide my head: yond same cloud cannot choose but fall by paile-fuls. What have we here, a man, or a fish? dead or alive? a fish, hee smels like a fish: a very ancient and fish-like smell: a kinde of, not of the newest poore-John: 2 a strange fish: were I in England now (as once I was) and had but this fish painted; not a holiday-foole there but would give a peece of silver: there, would this Monster, make a man: any strange beast there, makes a man: when they will not give a doit to relieve a lame Begger, they will lay out ten to see a dead Indian: Leg'd like a man; and his Finnes like Armes: warme o'my troth: I doe now let loose my opinion; hold it no longer; this is no fish, but an Islander, that hath lately suffered by a Thunderbolt: [Thunder.] Alas, the storme is come againe: my best way is to creepe un- | der his Gaberdine: there is no other shelter hereabout: Misery acquaints a man with strange bedfel- lowes: I will here shrowd till the dregges of the storme | be past. 1 leather jug 2 berring 44

Enter Stephano singing [a bottle in his hand]. Ste. I shall no more to sea, to sea, here shall I dye ashore.

This is a very scurvy tune to sing at a mans

46. new 1. at Here-CAPELL.

47-8. prose-POPE.