PAGE Timon, an Athenian noble......Tim. of Ath. 491 Suffolk...... Varrius, friend to Pompey... Ant. and Cleo. 604 1 K. Hen. VI. 314 W .2 K. Hen. VI. 331 WALTER WHITMORE... U ULYSSES, Grecian commander.. As You Like It 137 K. John 223 William Mareshall, earl of Pembroke. Ibid. 223 V VALENTINE, a gentleman of Verona.. Two Gent. of Ver. 15 Y YOUNG CATO, friend to Brutus.....Jul. Cuts. 506 CALIBAN, a sarage and deformed Slave. TRINCULO, a Jester. STEPHANO, a drunken Butler. Master of a Ship, Boatswain, and Mariners. ARIEL, an airy Spirit. IRIS, CERES, Juxo, Nymphs, Reapers, Spirits. Other Spirits attending on PROSPERO. SCENE,-The Sea, with a Ship; afterwards, an uninhabited Island, Boats. Do you not hear him? You mar our labour; This wide-chapp'd rascal; -'would, thou mightst lie 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 way, I say. [Exit. Gon. I have great comfort from this fellow: methinks he hath no drowning mark upon him; his com. plexion 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. 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. [Exit. Exit. [A confused noise within.] "Mercy on us!"—"We split, we split!"-"Farewell, my wife and children!"– Farewell, brother!"-"We split, we split, we split."Ant. Let's all sink with the king. Seb. Let's take leave of him. Gon. Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea for an acre of barren ground; long heath, brown furze, anything. The wills above be done! but I would fain die a dry death. [Exit. 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 cheek, Dashes the fire out. O, I have suffer'd With those 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 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 Which thou heard'st cry, which thou saw'st sink. Sit down; For thou must now know further. Mira. You have often Begun to tell me what I am; but stopp'd, And left me to a bootless inquisition; Pro. 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 Mira. Certainly, Sir, I can. Pro. By what? by any other house, or person? Of anything the image tell me, that Hath kept with thy remembrance. Mira. 'Tis far off; By foul play, as thou say'st, were we heaved thence; But blessedly holp hither. Mira. O, my heart bleeds To think o' the teen that I have turn'd you to, Which is from my remembrance! Please you, further. 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 loved, and to him put Without a parallel; those being all my study, And to my state grew stranger, being transported, Mira. Sir, most heedfully. Pro. Being once perfected how to grant suits, How to deny them; whom to advance, and whom To trash for over-topping; new created The creatures that were mine; I say, or changed them, Or else new form'd them having both the key Of officer and office, set all hearts To what tune pleased his ear; that now he was Mira. O good Sir, I do. Pro. I thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicate 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, To credit his own lie,-he did believe Mira. Your tale, Sir, would cure deafness. (So dry he was for sway) with the king of Naples, The dukedom, yet unbow'd, (alas, poor Milan) Mira. O, the heavens! Pro. Mark his condition, and the event; then tell me, If this might be a brother. Mira. I should sin To think but nobly of my grandmother: 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 A treacherous army levied, one midnight Fated to the purpose, did Antonio open The gates of Milan; and, i' the dead of darkness, Mira. 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. Pro. Hear a little further. And then I'll bring thee to the present business Which now's upon us; without the which, this story Were most impertinent. Mira. Wherefore did they not That hour destroy us? Pro. 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, Mira. Alack! what trouble Was I then to you! Pro. O a cherubim Thou wast, that did preserve me! Thou didst smile, When I have deck'd the sea with drops full salt; 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 Sit still, and hear the last of our sea-sorrow. Have I, thy schoolmaster, made thee more profit Mira. 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? Pro. Know thus far forth. By accident most strange, bountiful fortune, Brought to this shore: and by my prescience A most auspicious star; whose influence Will ever after droop.-Here cease more questions; Enter ARIEL. Ari. 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 Pro. Hast thou, spirit, Perform'd to point the tempest that I bade thee? I boarded the king's ship; now on the beak, Now in the waist, the deck, in every cabin, I flamed amazement: sometimes, I'd divide, 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, Plunged in the foaming brine, and quit the vessel, Pro. Why, that's my spirit! But was not this nigh shore? Ari. Close by, my master. Pro. But are they, Ariel, safe? On their sustaining garments not a blemish, But fresher than before; and, as thou bad'st me, In troops I have dispersed them 'bout the isle: The king's son have I landed by himself; In an odd angle of the isle, and sitting, His arms in this sad knot. Pro. Of the king's ship, The mariners, say, how thou hast disposed, Ari. Safely in harbour Is the king's ship; in the deep nook, where once Supposing that they saw the king's ship wreck'd, Pro. Ariel, thy charge Remember, I have done thee worthy service; Told thee no lies, made no mistakings, served Without or grudge or grumblings: thou didst promise To bate me a full year. Pro. Dost thou forget From what a torment I did free thee. Ari. No. Pro. 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. Ari. I do not, Sir. Pro. 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? Ari. No, Sir. Pro. Thou hast where was she born? speak; tell me. Ari. Sir, in Argier. Pro. 0, was she so? I must, Once in a month, recount what thou hast been, Pro. This blue-eyed hag was hither brought with child, A dozen years; within which space she died, (Save for the son that she did litter here, A freckled whelp, hag-born) not honour'd with Ari. Yes; Caliban, her son. Pro. Dull thing, I say so; he, that Caliban. To lay upon the damn'd, which Sycorax When I arrived, and heard thee, that made gape The pine, and let thee out. Ari. I thank thee, master. Pro. If thou more murmur'st, I will rend an oak, Cal. As wicked dew as e'er my mother brush'd Pro. For this, be sure, to-night thou shalt have cramps, As thick as honeycombs, each pinch more stinging Cal. I must eat my dinner. This island's mine, by Sycorax my mother, [me Which thou tak'st from me. When thou camest first, The fresh springs, brine-pits, barren place, and fertile; Of Sycorax, toads, beetles, bats, light on you! Which first was mine own king: and here you sty me Pro. Thou most lying slave, Whom stripes may move, not kindness: I have used thee, Cal. O ho, O ho-would it had been done! Pro. Abhorred slave! 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 Who hadst deserved 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! Fer. Where should this music be? i' the air, or the It sounds no more:-and sure, it waits upon ARIEL sings. "Ful! fathom five thy father lies; Into something rich and strange. [earth? Hark! now I hear them,-ding-dong, bell." Fer. The ditty does remember my drown'd father:- Lord, how it looks about! Believe me, Sir, It carries a brave form:-but 'tis a spirit. [senses Fer. Yes, faith, and all his lords; the duke of Milan, And his brave son, being twain. Pro. The duke of Milan, [Aside. And his more braver daughter, could control thee, This I fear you have done yourself some wrong: a word. Fer. O, if a virgin, And your affection not gone forth, I'll make you The queen of Naples. Pro. Soft, Sir; one word more. They are both in either's powers: but this swift business I must uneasy make, lest too light winning [Aside. Make the prize light.-One word more: I charge thee, That thou attend me: thou dost here usurp The name thou ow'st not; and hast put thyself Upon this island, as a spy, to win it From me, the lord on 't. Fer. No, as I am a man. Mira. There's nothing ill can dwell in such a temple: |