Before the Cell of PROSPERO. |
|
Enter PROSPERO in his magic robes; and ARIEL. |
Pro. Now does my project gather to a head: |
My charms crack not; my spirits obey, and time |
Goes upright with his carriage. How's the day? |
Ari. On the sixth hour; at which time, my lord, |
You said our work should cease. |
Pro. I did say so, |
When first I rais'd the tempest. Say, my spirit, |
How fares the king and's followers? |
Ari. Confin'd together |
In the same fashion as you gave in charge; |
Just as you left them: all prisoners, sir, |
In the line-grove which weather-fends your cell; |
They cannot budge till your release. The king, |
His brother, and yours, abide all three distracted, |
And the remainder mourning over them, |
Brimful of sorrow and dismay; but chiefly |
Him, that you term'd, sir, 'The good old lord Gonzalo:' |
His tears run down his beard, like winter's drops |
From eaves of reeds; your charm so strongly works them, |
That if you now beheld them, your affections |
Would become tender. |
Pro. Dost thou think so, spirit? |
Ari. Mine would, sir, were I human. |
Pro. And mine shall. |
Hast thou, which art but air, a touch, a feeling |
Of their afflictions, and shall not myself, |
One of their kind, that relish all as sharply, |
Passion as they, be kindlier mov'd than thou art? |
Though with their high wrongs I am struck to the quick, |
Yet with my nobler reason 'gainst my fury |
Do I take part: the rarer action is |
In virtue than in vengeance: they being penitent, |
The sole drift of my purpose doth extend |
Not a frown further. Go, release them, Ariel. |
My charms I'll break, their senses I'll restore, |
And they shall be themselves. |
Ari. I'll fetch them, sir. [Exit. |
Pro. Ye elves of hills, brooks, standing lakes, and groves; |
And ye, that on the sands with printless foot |
Do chase the ebbing Neptune and do fly him |
When he comes back; you demi-puppets, that |
By moonshine do the green sour ringlets make |
Whereof the ewe not bites; and you, whose pastime |
Is to make midnight mushrooms; that rejoice |
To hear the solemn curfew; by whose aid,— |
Weak masters though ye be—I have bedimm'd |
The noontide sun, call'd forth the mutinous winds, |
And 'twixt the green sea and the azur'd vault |
Set roaring war: to the dread-rattling thunder |
Have I given fire and rifted Jove's stout oak |
With his own bolt: the strong-bas'd promontory |
Have I made shake; and by the spurs pluck'd up |
The pine and cedar: graves at my command |
Have wak'd their sleepers, op'd, and let them forth |
By my so potent art. But this rough magic |
I here abjure; and, when I have requir'd |
Some heavenly music,—which even now I do,— |
To work mine end upon their senses that |
This airy charm is for, I'll break my staff, |
Bury it certain fathoms in the earth, |
And, deeper than did ever plummet sound, |
I'll drown my book. [Solemn music. |
|
Re-enter ARIEL: after him, ALONSO, with a frantic gesture, attended by GONZALO; SEBASTIAN and ANTONIO in like manner, attended by ADRIAN and FRANCISCO: they all enter the circle which PROSPERO had made, and there stand charmed; which PROSPERO observing, speaks. |
A solemn air and the best comforter |
To an unsettled fancy, cure thy brains, |
Now useless, boil'd within thy skull! There stand, |
For you are spell-stopp'd. |
Holy Gonzalo, honourable man, |
Mine eyes, even sociable to the show of thine, |
Fall fellowly drops. The charm dissolves apace; |
And as the morning steals upon the night, |
Melting the darkness, so their rising senses |
Begin to chase the ignorant fumes that mantle |
Their clearer reason.—O good Gonzalo! |
My true preserver, and a loyal sir |
To him thou follow'st, I will pay thy graces |
Home, both in word and deed.—Most cruelly |
Didst thou, Alonso, use me and my daughter: |
Thy brother was a furtherer in the act;— |
Thou'rt pinch'd for't now, Sebastian.—Flesh and blood, |
You, brother mine, that entertain'd ambition, |
Expell'd remorse and nature; who, with Sebastian,— |
Whose inward pinches therefore are most strong,— |
Would here have kill'd your king; I do forgive thee, |
Unnatural though thou art!—Their understanding |
Begins to swell, and the approaching tide |
Will shortly fill the reasonable shores |
That now lie foul and muddy. Not one of them |
That yet looks on me, or would know me.—Ariel, |
Fetch me the hat and rapier in my cell:— [Exit ARIEL. |
I will discase me, and myself present, |
As I was sometime Milan.—Quickly, spirit; |
Thou shalt ere long be free. |
|
ARIEL re-enters, singing, and helps to attire PROSPERO. |
Ari. | Where the bee sucks, there suck I |
| In a cowslip's bell I lie; |
| There I couch when owls do cry. |
| On the bat's back I do fly |
| After summer merrily: |
| Merrily, merrily shall I live now |
| Under the blossom that hangs on the bough. |
|
Pro. Why, that's my dainty Ariel! I shall miss thee; |
But yet thou shalt have freedom;—so, so, so.— |
To the king's ship, invisible as thou art: |
There shalt thou find the mariners asleep |
Under the hatches; the master and the boat-swain |
Being awake, enforce them to this place, |
And presently, I prithee. |
Ari. I drink the air before me, and return |
Or e'er your pulse twice beat. [Exit. |
Gon. All torment, trouble, wonder, and amazement |
Inhabits here: some heavenly power guide us |
Out of this fearful country! |
Pro. Behold, sir king, |
The wronged Duke of Milan, Prospero. |
For more assurance that a living prince |
Does now speak to thee, I embrace thy body; |
And to thee and thy company I bid |
A hearty welcome. |
Alon. Whe'r thou beest he or no, |
Or some enchanted trifle to abuse me, |
As late I have been, I not know: thy pulse |
Beats, as of flesh and blood; and, since I saw thee, |
Th' affliction of my mind amends, with which, |
I fear, a madness held me: this must crave,— |
An if this be at all—a most strange story. |
Thy dukedom I resign, and do entreat |
Thou pardon me my wrongs.—But how should Prospero |
Be living, and be here? |
Pro. First, noble friend, |
Let me embrace thine age; whose honour cannot |
Be measur'd, or confin'd. |
Gon. Whether this be, |
Or be not, I'll not swear. |
Pro. You do yet taste |
Some subtilties o' the isle, that will not let you |
Believe things certain.—Welcome! my friends all:— |
[Aside to SEB. and ANT.] But you, my brace of lords, were I so minded, |
I here could pluck his highness' frown upon you, |
And justify you traitors: at this time |
I will tell no tales. |
Seb. [Aside.] The devil speaks in him. |
Pro. No. |
For you, most wicked sir, whom to call brother |
Would even infect my mouth, I do forgive |
Thy rankest fault; all of them; and require |
My dukedom of thee, which, perforce, I know, |
Thou must restore. |
Alon. If thou beest Prospero, |
Give us particulars of thy preservation; |
How thou hast met us here, who three hours since |
Were wrack'd upon this shore; where I have lost,— |
How sharp the point of this remembrance is!— |
My dear son Ferdinand. |
Pro. I am woe for't, sir. |
Alon. Irreparable is the loss, and patience |
Says it is past her cure. |
Pro. I rather think |
You have not sought her help; of whose soft grace, |
For the like loss I have her sovereign aid, |
And rest myself content. |
Alon. You the like loss! |
Pro. As great to me, as late; and, supportable |
To make the dear loss, have I means much weaker |
Than you may call to comfort you, for I |
Have lost my daughter. |
Alon. A daughter? |
O heavens! that they were living both in Naples, |
The king and queen there! that they were, I wish |
Myself were mudded in that oozy bed |
Where my son lies. When did you lose your daughter? |
Pro. In this last tempest. I perceive, these lords |
At this encounter do so much admire |
That they devour their reason, and scarce think |
Their eyes do offices of truth, their words |
Are natural breath: but, howsoe'er you have |
Been justled from your senses, know for certain |
That I am Prospero and that very duke |
Which was thrust forth of Milan; who most strangely |
Upon this shore, where you were wrack'd, was landed, |
To be the lord on't. No more yet of this; |
For 'tis a chronicle of day by day, |
Not a relation for a breakfast nor |
Befitting this first meeting. Welcome, sir; |
This cell's my court: here have I few attendants |
And subjects none abroad: pray you, look in. |
My dukedom since you have given me again, |
I will requite you with as good a thing; |
At least bring forth a wonder, to content ye |
As much as me my dukedom. |
|
The entrance of the Cell opens, and discovers FERDINAND and MIRANDA playing at chess. |
Mira. Sweet lord, you play me false. |
Fer. No, my dearest love, |
I would not for the world. |
Mira. Yes, for a score of kingdoms you should wrangle, |
And I would call it fair play. |
Alon. If this prove |
A vision of the island, one dear son |
Shall I twice lose. |
Seb. A most high miracle! |
Fer. Though the seas threaten, they are merciful: |
I have curs'd them without cause. [Kneels to ALON. |
Alon. Now, all the blessings |
Of a glad father compass thee about! |
Arise, and say how thou cam'st here. |
Mira. O, wonder! |
How many goodly creatures are there here! |
How beauteous mankind is! O brave new world, |
That has such people in't! |
Pro. 'Tis new to thee. |
Alon. What is this maid, with whom thou wast at play? |
Your eld'st acquaintance cannot be three hours: |
Is she the goddess that hath sever'd us, |
And brought us thus together? |
Fer. Sir, she is mortal; |
But by immortal Providence she's mine; |
I chose her when I could not ask my father |
For his advice, nor thought I had one. She |
Is daughter to this famous Duke of Milan, |
Of whom so often I have heard renown, |
But never saw before; of whom I have |
Receiv'd a second life; and second father |
This lady makes him to me. |
Alon. I am hers: |
But O! how oddly will it sound that I |
Must ask my child forgiveness! |
Pro. There, sir, stop: |
Let us not burden our remembrances |
With a heaviness that's gone. |
Gon. I have inly wept, |
Or should have spoke ere this. Look down, you gods, |
And on this couple drop a blessed crown; |
For it is you that have chalk'd forth the way |
Which brought us hither! |
Alon. I say, Amen, Gonzalo! |
Gon. Was Milan thrust from Milan, that his issue |
Should become kings of Naples? O, rejoice |
Beyond a common joy, and set it down |
With gold on lasting pillars. In one voyage |
Did Claribel her husband find at Tunis, |
And Ferdinand, her brother, found a wife |
Where he himself was lost; Prospero his dukedom |
In a poor isle; and all of us ourselves, |
When no man was his own. |
Alon. [To FER. and MIRA.] Give me your hands: |
Let grief and sorrow still embrace his heart |
That doth not wish you joy! |
Gon. Be it so: Amen! |
|
Re-enter ARIEL, with the Master and Boatswain amazedly following. |
O look, sir! look, sir! here are more of us. |
I prophesied, if a gallows were on land, |
This fellow could not drown.—Now, blasphemy, |
That swear'st grace o'erboard, not an oath on shore? |
Hast thou no mouth by land? What is the news? |
Boats. The best news is that we have safely found |
Our king and company: the next, our ship,— |
Which but three glasses since we gave out split,— |
Is tight and yare and bravely rigg'd as when |
We first put out to sea. |
Ari. [Aside to PRO.] Sir, all this service |
Have I done since I went. |
Pro. [Aside to ARI.] My tricksy spirit! |
Alon. These are not natural events; they strengthen |
From strange to stranger.—Say, how came you hither? |
Boats. If I did think, sir, I were well awake, |
I'd strive to tell you. We were dead of sleep, |
And,—how we know not,—all clapp'd under hatches, |
Where, but even now, with strange and several noises |
Of roaring, shrieking, howling, jingling chains, |
And mo diversity of sounds, all horrible, |
We were awak'd; straightway, at liberty: |
Where we, in all her trim, freshly beheld |
Our royal, good, and gallant ship; our master |
Capering to eye her: on a trice, so please you, |
Even in a dream, were we divided from them, |
And were brought moping hither. |
Ari. [Aside to PRO.] Was't well done? |
Pro. [Aside to ARI.] Bravely, my diligence! Thou shalt be free. |
Alon. This is as strange a maze as e'er men trod; |
And there is in this business more than nature |
Was ever conduct of: some oracle |
Must rectify our knowledge. |
Pro. Sir, my liege, |
Do not infest your mind with beating on |
The strangeness of this business: at pick'd leisure |
Which shall be shortly, single I'll resolve you,— |
Which to you shall seem probable,—of every |
These happen'd accidents; till when, be cheerful, |
And think of each thing well.—[Aside to ARI.] Come hither, spirit; |
Set Caliban and his companions free; |
Untie the spell. [Exit ARI.] How fares my gracious sir? |
There are yet missing of your company |
Some few odd lads that you remember not. |
|
Re-enter ARIEL, driving in CALIBAN, STEPHANO, and TRINCULO, in their stolen apparel. |
Ste. Every man shift for all the rest, and let no man take care for himself, for all is but fortune.—Coragio! bully-monster, Coragio! |
Trin. If these be true spies which I wear in my head, here's a goodly sight. |
Cal. O Setebos! these be brave spirits, indeed. |
How fine my master is! I am afraid |
He will chastise me. |
Seb. Ha, ha! |
What things are these, my lord Antonio? |
Will money buy them? |
Ant. Very like; one of them |
Is a plain fish, and, no doubt, marketable. |
Pro. Mark but the badges of these men, my lords, |
Then say, if they be true.—This mis-shapen knave,— |
His mother was a witch; and one so strong |
That could control the moon, make flows and ebbs, |
And deal in her command without her power. |
These three have robb'd me; and this demi-devil,— |
For he's a bastard one,—had plotted with them |
To take my life: two of these fellows you |
Must know and own; this thing of darkness I |
Acknowledge mine. |
Cal. I shall be pinch'd to death |
Alon. Is not this Stephano, my drunken butler? |
Seb. He is drunk now: where had he wine? |
Alon. And Trinculo is reeling-ripe: where should they |
Find this grand liquor that hath gilded them? |
How cam'st thou in this pickle? |
Trin. I have been in such a pickle since I saw you last that, I fear me, will never out of my bones: I shall not fear fly-blowing. |
Seb. Why, how now, Stephano! |
Ste. O! touch me not: I am not Stephano, but a cramp. |
Pro. You'd be king of the isle, sirrah? |
Ste. I should have been a sore one then. |
Alon. This is a strange thing as e'er I look'd on. [Pointing to CAL. |
Pro. He is as disproportion'd in his manners |
As in his shape.—Go, sirrah, to my cell; |
Take with you your companions: as you look |
To have my pardon, trim it handsomely. |
Cal. Ay, that I will; and I'll be wise hereafter, |
And seek for grace. What a thrice-double ass |
Was I, to take this drunkard for a god, |
And worship this dull fool! |
Pro. Go to; away! |
Alon. Hence, and bestow your luggage where you found it. |
Seb. Or stole it, rather. [Exeunt CAL., STE., and TRIN. |
Pro. Sir, I invite your highness and your train |
To my poor cell, where you shall take your rest |
For this one night; which—part of it—I'll waste |
With such discourse as, I not doubt, shall make it |
Go quick away; the story of my life |
And the particular accidents gone by |
Since I came to this isle: and in the morn |
I'll bring you to your ship, and so to Naples, |
Where I have hope to see the nuptial |
Of these our dear-beloved solemniz'd; |
And thence retire me to my Milan, where |
Every third thought shall be my grave. |
Alon. I long |
To hear the story of your life, which must |
Take the ear strangely. |
Pro. I'll deliver all; |
And promise you calm seas, auspicious gales |
And sail so expeditious that shall catch |
Your royal fleet far off.—[Aside to ARI.] My Ariel, chick, |
That is thy charge: then to the elements |
Be free, and fare thou well!—Please you, draw near. [Exeunt. |
|
EPILOGUE. Spoken by PROSPERO.
| Now my charms are all o'erthrown, |
| And what strength I have 's mine own; |
| Which is most faint: now, 'tis true, |
| I must be here confin'd by you, |
| Or sent to Naples. Let me not, |
| Since I have my dukedom got |
| And pardon'd the deceiver, dwell |
| In this bare island by your spell; |
| But release me from my bands |
| With the help of your good hands. |
| Gentle breath of yours my sails |
| Must fill, or else my project fails, |
| Which was to please. Now I want |
| Spirits to enforce, art to enchant; |
| And my ending is despair, |
| Unless I be reliev'd by prayer, |
| Which pierces so that it assaults |
| Mercy itself and frees all faults. |
| As you from crimes would pardon'd be, |
| Let your indulgence set me free. |
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