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And blister you all o'er!

Pro. For this, be sure, to-night thou shalt have

cramps,

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

Cal.
I must eat my dinner.
This island's mine, by Sycorax, my mother,
Which thou tak'st from me. When thou camest first,
Thou strok'dst me, and mad'st much of me;
would'st 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 lov'd thee,
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,
Which first was mine own king; and here you sty me
In this hard rock, whiles you do keep from me
The rest of the island.

Pro.
Thou most lying slave,
Whom stripes may move, not kindness; I have

us'd thee,

Filth as thou art, with human care; and lodg'd thee In mine own cell, till thou didst seek to violate The honour of my child.

Cal. O ho, Oho!-'would it had been done! Thou didst prevent me; I had peopled else This isle with Calibans.

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

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Could not abide to be with; therefore wast thou
Deservedly confin'd into this rock,
Who hadst deserv'd more than a prison.

Cal. You taught me language; and my profit on't
Is, I know how to curse: the red plague rid2 you,
For learning me your language!
Pro.
Hag-seed, hence!
Fetch us in fuel; and be quick, thou wert 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 cramps;
Fill all thy bones with aches: make thee roar,
That beasts shall tremble at thy din.

Cal. No, 'pray thee!

I must obey: his art is of such power,
It would control my darn's god, Setebos,
And make a vassal of him.

Pro.

[Aside.

So, slave; hence!

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This is no mortal business, nor no sound

That the earth owes 4-I hear it now above me. Pro. The fringed curtains of thine eye advance, And say, what thou seest yond'.

Mira.

Lord, how it looks about! Believe me, sir,
What is't? a spirit?
It carries a brave form :-But 'tis a spirit.
Pro. No, wench; it eats and sleeps, and hath
such senses
As we have, such: this gallant which thou seest
Was in the wreck; and but he's something stain'd
With grief, that's beauty's canker, thou might'st

call him

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Fer. Most sure, the goddess On whom these airs attend!- Vouchsafe my prayer May know, if you remain upon this island; And that you will some good instruction give, How I may bear me here: my prime request, Which I do last pronounce, is, O you wonder! If you be maid, or no? Mira.

But, certainly a maid.

Fer.

No wonder, sir;

I am the best of them that speak this speech,

My language? heavens!

How! the best?

Were I but where 'tis spoken.

Pro.

What wert thou, if the king of Naples heard thee?

(1) Fairies.

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(4) Owns.

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[Aside.

They have chang'd eyes:--Delicate Ariel,
I'll set thee free for this!-A word, good sir;
I fear, you have done yourself some wrong: a word.
Mira. Why speaks my father so ungently? This
Is the third man that ere I saw; the first
That ere I sigh'd for: pity move my father
To be inclin'd my way!

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:

If the ill spirit have so fair a house,
Good things will strive to dwell with 't.

Pro.
Follow me.- [To Ferd.
Speak not you for him; he's a traitor.-Come.
I'll manacle thy neck and feet together:
Sea-water shalt thou drink, thy food shall be
The fresh-brook muscles, wither'd roots, and husks,
Wherein the acorn cradled. Follow.

Fer.

I will resist such entertainment, till Mine enemy has more power.

No; [He draws.

O dear father,

Mira.
Make not too rash a trial of him, for
He's gentle, and not fearful.?

Pro.
What, I say,
My foot my tutor!-Put thy sword up, traitor;
Who mak'st a show, but dar'st not strike, thy
conscience

Is so possess'd with guilt: come from thy ward;3
For I can here disarm thee with this stick,
And make thy weapon drop.

Mira.

Sir, have pity; Silence: one word more

Beseech you, father!
Pro. Hence; hang not on my garments.
Mira.
I'll be his surety.
Pro.
Shall make me chide thee, if not hate thee. What!
An advocate for an impostor? hush!

Thou think'st, there are 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.

Mira.

My affections

Are then most humble; I have no ambition
To see a goodlier man.

(1) Confute. (2) Frightful. (3) Guard.

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Thy nerves are in their infancy again, And have no vigour in them.

Fer.

So they are:

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, or this man's threats,
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.
Pro.
It works:-Come on.-
Thou hast done well, fine Ariel!-Follow me.--
[To Ferd. and Mira.
Hark, what thou else shalt do me. [To Ariel.
Be of comfort,

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Seb. Ha, ha, ha!

Alon. You cram these words into mine ears, against

Ant. So, you've pay'd.

Seb. Yet,

Adr. Uninhabitable, and almost inaccessible, The stomach of my sense: 'would I had never

Adr. Yet

Ant. He could not miss it.

Adr. It must needs be of subtle, tender, and delicate temperance.1

Ant. Temperance was a delicate wench. Seb. Ay, and a subtle; as he most learnedly delivered.

Adr. The air breathes upon us here most sweetly.
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 lush2 and lusty the grass looks!

green!

Ant. The ground, indeed, is tawny.

Seb. With an eye3 of green in't.

Ant. He misses not much.

Married my daughter there! for, coming thence,
My son is lost; and, in my rate, she too,
Who is so far from Italy remov'd,

I ne'et again shall see her. O thou mine heir
Of Naples and of Milan, what strange fish
Hath made his meal on thee!
Sir, he may live;

Fran.

I saw him beat the surges under him,
And ride upon their backs; he trod the water,
Whose enmity he flung aside, and breasted
The surge most swoln that met him: his bold
head

'Bove the contentious waves he kept, and oar'd
Himself with his good arms in lusty stroke
howTo the shore, that o'er his wave-worn basis bow'd
As stooping to relieve him. I not doubt,
He came alive to land.

Seb. No; he doth but mistake the truth totally.

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Gon. But the rarity of it is (which is, indeed, al-|| That would not bless our Europe with your daughmost beyond credit-)

Seb. As many vouch'd rarities are.

Gon. That our garments, being, as they were, drenched in the sea, hold, notwithstanding, their freshness, and glosses; being rather new dy'd, than stain'd with salt water.

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

Seb. Ay, or very falsely pocket up his report. Gon. 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.

Seb. 'Twas a sweet marriage, and we prosper well in our return.

Adr. Tunis was never grac'd 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 study of that: she was of Carthage, not of Tunis. Gon. This Tunis, sir, was Carthage.

Adr. Carthage?

Gon. I assure you, Carthage.

Ant. His word is more than the miraculous harp. Seb. He hath rais'd 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. 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 c'er came there.
Seb. 'Bate, I beseech you, widow Dido.
Ant. O, widow Dido; ay, widow Dido.

ter,

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Very foul.

Gon. Had I a plantation of this isle, my lord,Ant. He'd sow it with nettle-seed. Seb. Or docks, or mallows. Gon. And were the king of it, What would I do? Seb. 'Scape being drunk, for want of wine. Gon. I'the commonwealth I would by contraries Execute all things: for no kind of traffic Would I admit; no name of magistrate; Letters should not be known; no use of service, Of riches or of poverty; no contracts, Successions; bound of land, tilth, vineyard, none: No use of metal, corn, or wine, or oil: No occupation; all men idle, all; And women too; but innocent and pure: No sovereignty:Seb. And yet he would be king on't. Ant. The latter end of his commonwealth for

Gon. Is not, sir, my doublet as fresh as the first gets the beginning. day I wore it? I mean, in a sort.4

Ant. That sort was well fish'd for.
Gon. When I wore it at your daughter's marriage?

(1) Temperature. (2) Rank. (3) Shade of colour.

Gon. All things in common nature should produce Without sweat or endeavour: treason, felony, Sword, pike, knife, gun, or need of any engine,s

(4) Degree or quality. (5) The rack.

TEMPEST.

Act II.

Would I not have; but nature should bring forth, [] Whiles thou art waking.

Of its own kind, all foizon,1 all abundance,

To feed my innocent people.

Seb. No marrying 'mong his subjects?

Ant. None, man; all idle; whores and knaves. Gon. I would with such perfection govern, sir, To excel the golden age.

Seb.

'Save his majesty!

Ant. Long live Gonzalo !
Gon
And, do you mark me, sir?-
Alon. Pr'ythee, no more: Thou dost talk no-

thing to me.

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.

Seb.

Thou dost snore distinctly;

There's meaning in thy snores.

Ant. I am more serious than my custom: you
Must be so too, if heed me; which to do,
Trebles thee o'er.

Seb.

Well; I am standing water.
Ant. I'll teach you how to flow.
Seb.
Hereditary sloth instructs me.
Ant.

0,

Do so: to ebb,

Whiles thus you mock it! how, in stripping it,
If you but knew, how you the purpose cherish,
You more invest it! Ebbing men, indeed,
Most often do so near the bottom run,
By their own fear, or sloth.
Seb.
The setting of thine eye, and cheek, proclaim
Pr'ythee, say on:
A matter from thee; and a birth, indeed,
Which throes thee much to yield.
Ant.

Ant. What a blow was there given:
Seb. An it had not fallen flat-long.
Gon. You are gentlemen of brave mettle; you (Who shall be of as little memory,
would lift the moon out of her sphere, if she would|
continue in it five weeks without changing.

Thus, sir: Although this lord of weak remembrance, this

Enter Ariel, invisible, playing solemn music. Seb. We would so, and then go a bat-fowling. Ant. 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: I find,

They are inclined to do so.

Seb.

Please you, sir,

Do not omit the heavy offer of it:
It seldom visits sorrow; when it doth,
It is a comforter.

Ant.
We two, my lord,
Will guard your person, while you take your rest,
And watch your safety.
Alon.

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 eye-lids sink? I fina 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,
Worthy Sebastian?-O, what might?-No more:-
And yet, methinks, I see it in thy face,
What thou should'st be: the occasion speaks thee;

and

My strong imagination sees a crown
Dropping upon thy head.
Seb.
What, art thou waking?
Ant. Do you not hear me speak?
Seb.
I do; and, surely,
It is a sleepy language; and thou speak'st
Out of thy sleep: what is it thou didst say?
This is a strange repose, to be asleep
With eyes wide open; standing, speaking, moving,
And yet so fast asleep.

Ant.
Noble Sebastian,
Thou let'st thy fortune sleep-die rather; wink'st

(1) Plenty.

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Who's the next heir of Naples?

Then, tell me,

Claribel.

Seb.
Ant. She that is queen of Tunis; she that dwells
Ten leagues beyond man's life; she that from Naples
Can have no note, unless the sun were post,
(The man i' the moon's too slow,) till new-born chins
Be rough and razorable: she, from whom
We were all sea-swallow'd, though some cast again;
And, by that, destin'd to perform an act,
Whereof what's past is prologue; what to come,
In yours and my discharge.

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
There is some space.

Ant.
Seems to cry out, How shall that Claribel
A space whose every cubit
Measure us back to Naples?-Keep in Tunis,
That now hath seiz'd them; why, they were no
And let Sebastian wake!-Say, this were death

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You did supplant your brother Prospero. Ant.

True:

And look, how well my garments sit upon me; Much feater than before: my brother's servants Were then my fellows, now they are my men. Seb. But, for your conscience

Ant. Ay, sir; where lies that? if it were a kibe,
Twould put me to my slipper; but I feel not
This deity in my bosom: twenty consciences,
That stand 'twixt me and Milan, candied be they,
And melt, ere they molest! Here lies your brother,
No better than the earth he lies upon,

If he were that which now he's like; whom I,
With this obedient steel, three inches of it,
Can lay to bed forever: whiles you, doing thus,
To the perpetual wink for ayel might put
This ancient morsel, this sir Prudence, who
Should not upbraid our course. For all the rest,
They'll take suggestion,2 as a cat laps milk;
They'll tell the clock to any business that
We say befits the hour.

Seb.

Thy case, dear friend, Shall be my precedent; as thou got'st Milan, I'll come by Naples. Draw thy sword: one stroke Shall free thee from the tribute which thou pay'st; And I the king shall love thee. Ant.

Draw together: And when I rear my hand, do you the like, To fall it on Gonzalo. Seb.

O, but one word. [They converse apart. Music. Re-enter Ariel, invisible. Ari. My master through his art foresees the danger

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By inch-meal a disease! His spirits hear me,
And yet I needs must curse. But they'll nor pinch,
Nor lead me, like a fire-brand, in the dark,
Fright me with urchin shows, pitch me i' the mire,
Out of my way, unless he bid them; but
For every trifle are they set upon me :
And after, bite me; then like hedge-hogs, which
Sometimes like apes, that moe3 and chatter at me,
Their pricks at my foot-fall; sometime am I
Lie tumbling in my bare-foot way, and mount
All wound with adders, who, with cloven tongues,
Do hiss me into madness:-Lo! now! lo!

Enter Trinculo.

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, would shed his liquor. If it should thunder, as it yond' huge one, looks like a foul bumbard1 that did before, I know not where to hide my head: ear.yond' same cloud cannot choose but fall by pail

That these, his friends, are in; and sends me forth,
(For else his project dies,) to keep them living.
[Sings in Gonzalo's

While you here do snoring lie,
Open-ey'd Conspiracy

His time doth take:

If of life you keep a care,
Shake off slumber, and beware :
Awake! awake!

Ant. Then let us both be sudden.
Gon. Now, good angels, preserve the king!
[They wake.
Alon. Why, how now, ho! awake! Why are you
drawn?
Wherefore this ghastly looking?
Gon.
What's the matter?
Seb. Whiles we stood here securing your repose,
Even now, we heard a hollow burst of bellowing
Like bulls, or rather lions; did it not wake you?
It struck mine ear most terribly.
Alon.
I heard nothing.
Ant. O, 'twas a din to fright a monster's ear;
To make an earthquake! sure it was the roar
Of a whole herd of lions.
Alon.
Heard you this, Gonzalo?
Gon. Upon mine honour, sir, I heard a hum-
ming,

And that a strange one too, which did awake me:
I shak'd you, sir, and cry'd; as mine eyes open'd,
I saw their weapons drawn:-there was a noise,
That's verity: 'best stand upon our guard;
Or that we quit this place: let's draw our weapons.
Alon. Lead off this ground; and let's make fur-
ther search

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fuls.-What have we here? a man or a fish? Dead or alive? A fish: he smells like a fish; a very ancient and fish-like smell; a kind of, not of the newest, Poor John. A strange fish! Were I in England now (as once I was,) and had this fish painted, not a holiday-fool there but would give a piece 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 beggar, like a man! and his fins like arms! Warm, o' my they will lay out ten to see a dead Indian. Legg'd troth! I do now let loose my opinion, hold it no longer; this is no fish, but an islander, that hath the storm is come again: my best way is to creep lately suffered by a thunderbolt. [Thunder.] Alas! under his gaberdine; there is no other shelter hereabout: misery acquaints a man with strange bed-fellows. I will here shroud, till the dregs of the storm be past.

Enter Stephano, singing; a bottle in his hand.
Ste. I shall no more to sea, to sea,
Here shall I die a-shore ;-
This is a very scurvy tune to sing at a man's funeral:
Well, here's my comfort.
[Drinks.
The master, the swabber, the boatswain, and I,
The gunner, and his mate,
Lov'd Mall, Meg, and Marian, and Margery,
But none of us car'd for Kate:
For she had a tongue with a tang,
Would cry to a sailor, Go, bang:

(4) A black jack of leather, to hold beer
5) The frock of a peasant.

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