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your advancement! Do you understand me? Seb. Methinks, I do. Ant.
And how does your content
For all the rest,
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.
? Any hint.
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.
Musick. Re-enter ARIEL, invisible. Ari. My master through his art foresees the danger That these, his friends, are in; and sends me forth, (For else his project dies,) to keep them living.
[Sings in Gox2A lo's car.
While you here do snoring lie,
His time doth take:
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. 0, 'twas a din to fright a monster's ear ; To make an earthquake! sure it was the roar
Of a whole herd of lions.
this, Gonzalo? 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 cry'd; as mine eyes opend, 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 further
search For my poor son.
Gon. Heavens keep him from these beasts! For he is, sure, i' the island.
Alon. Ari. Prospero my lord shall know what I have 1 done :
[Aside. So, king, go safely on to seek thy son. [Exeunt.
Another part of the island.
Enter Caliban, with a burden of wood.
A noise of thunder heard. Cal. All the infections that the sun sucks up From bogs, fens, flats, on Prosper fall, and make him By inch-meal a disease! His spirits hear me, And yet I needs must curse. But they'll nor pinch, Fright me with urchin shows, pitch me i’ the mire, Nor lead me, like a fire-brand, in the dark Out of my way, unless he bid them; but
For every trifle are they set upon 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, yond' huge one, looks like a foul bumbard 4 that would shed his liqour. If it should thunder, as it did before, I know not where to hide my head : yond' same cloud cannot choose but fall by pailfuls.What have we here? a man or a fish? Dead or alive? A fish: he smells like a fish; a very ancient and fishlike smell; a kind of, not of the newest, Poor-John. A strange fish! Were I in England now (as once I was,) and had but 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, they will lay out ten to see a dead Indian. Legg'd like a man! and his fins like arms! Warm, o' my troth! I do now let loose my
3 Make mouths. 4 A black jack of leather, to hold beer.
opinion, hold it no longer; this is no fish but an islander, that hath lately suffered by a thunderbolt. [Thunder.] Alas! the storm is come again: my best way is to creep under his gaberdine;s 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,
But none of us car’d for Kate:
Would cry to a sailor, Go, hang :
Then to sea, boys, and let her go hang. This is a scurvy tune too: But here's my comfort.
[Drinks, Cal. Do not torment me: O!
Ste. What's the matter? Have we devils here? Do you put tricks upon us with savages, and men of Inde?6 Ha! I have not 'scàp'd drowning, to be afeard now of your four legs; for it hath been said, As proper a man as ever went on four legs, cannot make
5 The frock of a peasant.