« ForrigeFortsett »
Alonso, king of Naples.
Sebastian, his brother.
Prospero, the rightful duke of Milan.
Antonio, his brother, the usurping duke of Milan.
Ferdinand, son to the king of Naples.
Gonzalo, an honest old counsellor of Naples.
Caliban, a savage and deformed slave.
Trinculo, a jester.
Stephano, a drunken butler.
Master of a ship, Boatswain, and Mariners.
Boats. Here, master: what cheer?
Mast. Good: speak to the mariners: fall to't yarely, or we run ourselves aground: bestir, bestir. [Exit.
fate, to his hanging! make the rope of his destiny our cable, for our own doth little advantage! If he SCENE 1.-On a ship at sea. A storm, with be not born to be hanged, our case is miserable. thunder and lightning. Enter a Ship-master [Exeunt. and a Boatswain.
Boats. Heigh, my hearts; cheerly, cheerly, my hearts; yare, yare: take in the top-sail: tend to the master's whistle.-Blow, till thou burst thy wind, if room enough!
Enter Alonso, Sebastian, Antonio, Ferdinand,
Gonzalo, and others.
Miranda, daughter to Prospero.
Alon. Good boatswain, have a care. Where's the master? Play the men.
Boals. I pray now, keep below.
Ant. Where is the master, boastwain?
Boats. Do you not hear him? You mar our la-
bour! 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. Down with the top-mast; yare; lower, lower; bring her to try with main course. A cry within.] A plague upon this howling! they are louder than the weather, or our office.
Boats. What, must our mouths be cold?
Gon. The king and prince at prayers! let us
For our case is as theirs.
Seb. I am out of patience.
Ant. We are merely cheated of our lives by drunkards.
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, The washing of ten tides! and make yourself ready in your cabin for the misHe'll be hanged yet; chance of the hour, if it so hap.-Cheerly, good Though every drop of water swear against it, hearts.-Out of our way, I say. [Exit. And gape at wid'st to glut him.
This wide-chapped rascal ;-'Would, thou might'st lie drowning,
Gon. I have great comfort from this fellow: me- [A confused noise within.] Mercy on us!-We thinks he hath no drowning mark upon him; his split, we split! Farewell, my wife and children!complexion is perfect gallows. Stand fast, good Farewell, brother!-We split, we split, we split.
(2) Present instant.
"But that I do not.
Ant. Let's all sink with the king. [Erit. In the dark backward and abysm3 of time! Seb. Let's take leave of him. [Exit. If thou remember'st aught, ere thou cam'st here, Gon. Now would I give a thousand furlongs of How thou cam'st here, thou may'st. sea for an acre of barren ground; long heath, brown furze, any thing: 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.
Mir. 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 that 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'er1
It should the good ship so have swallow'd, and
The freighting souls within her.
No more amazement: tell your piteous heart,
There's no harm done.
O, wo the day!
I have done nothing but in care of thee,
(Of thee, my dear one! thee, my daughter!) who
Art ignorant of what thou art, nought knowing
Of whence I am; nor that I am more better
Than Prospero, master of a full poor cell,
And thy no greater father.
More to know Did never meddle with my thoughts. Pro. 'Tis time I should inform thee further. Lend thy hand, 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
The very virtue of compassion in thee,
I have with such provision in mine art
So safely order'd, that there is no soul-
No, not so much perdition as a hair,
Betid to any creature in the vessel
Which thou heard'st cry, which thou saw'st sink.
For thou must now know further.
You have often
Begun to tell me what I am; but stopp'd
And left me to a bootless inquisition;
Concluding, Stay, not yet.—
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
Out three years old.
Certainly, sir, I can.
Pro. By what? by any other house, or person?
Of any thing the image tell me, that
Hath kept with thy remembrance.
'Tis far off;
And rather like a dream than an assurance
That my remembrance warrants: had I not
Four or five women once, that tended me?
Pro. Thou hadst, and more, Miranda: but how
That this lives in thy mind? What seest thou else
(1) Before. (2) Quite. (3) Abyss.
Pro. Twelve years since,
Miranda, twelve years since, thy father was
The duke of Milan, and a prince of power.
Mira. Sir, are not you my father.
Pro. Thy mother was a piece of virtue, and
She said-thou wast my daughter; and thy father
Was duke of Milan; and his only heir
A princess;-no worse issued.
O, the heavens! What foul play had we, that we came from thence? Or blessed was't we did?
Both, both, my girl.
By foul play, as thou say'st, were we heav'd thence;
But blessedly holp hither.
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 lov'd, and to him put
The manage of my state; as, at that time,
Through all the signiories it was the first,
And Prospero the prime duke; being so reputed
Without a parallel; those being all my study,
In dignity, and, for the liberal arts,
The government I cast upon my brother,
And to my state grew stranger, being transported,
And wrapt in secret studies. Thy false uncle-
Dost thou attend me?
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 cr chang'd
pray thee, mark me.
Or else new form'd them: having both the key
Of officer and office, set all hearts
To what tune pleas'd his ear; that now he was
The ivy, which had my princely trunk,
And suck'd my verdure out on't. Thou attend'st
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 retir'd,
O'er-priz'd all popular rate, in my false brother,
Awak'd 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,
A confidence sans bound. He being thus lorded,
Not only with what my revenue yielded,
But what my power might else exact,-like one,
Who having, unto truth, by telling of it,
Made such a sinner of his memory,
To credit his own lie,-he did believe
He was the duke; out of the substitution,
And executing the outward face of royalty,
With all prerogative:-Hence his ambition
Mira. Your tale, sir, would cure deafness.
Pro. To have no screen between this part he
And him he play'd it for, he needs will be
Absolute Milan: me, poor man!-my library
(5) Cut away.
Was dukedom large enough; of temporal royalties From my own library, with volumes that
He thinks me now incapable: confederates
(So dry he was for sway) with the king of Naples, Mira.
prize above my dukedom.
To give him annual tribute, do him homage;
Subject his coronet to his crown, and bend
But ever see that man!
'Would I might
The dukedom, yet unbow'd (alas, poor Milan!)
To most ignoble stooping.
Sit still, and hear the last of our sea-sorrow.
Now I arise:-
Here in this island we arriv'd; and here
Have I, thy school-master, made thee more profit
O the heavens!
Pro. Mark his condition, and the event; then Than other princes can, that have more time
For vainer hours, and tutors not so careful.
If this might be a brother.
To think but nobly of my grandmother:
I should sin
Good wombs have born bad sons.
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?
This king of Naples, being an enemy
Now the condition.
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,-I
Should presently extirpate me and mine
Out of the dukedom; and confer fair Milan,
With all the honours, on my brother: whereon,
A treacherous army levied, one midnight
Fated to the purpose, did Antonio open
The gates of Milan; and, i' the dead of darkness,
The ministers for the purpose hurried thence
Me, and thy crying self.
I, not rememb'ring how I cried out then,
Alack, for pity!
Will cry it o'er again; it is a hint,'
That wrings mine eyes.
And then I'll bring thee to the present business
Hear a little further,
Which now's upon us; without the which, this story
Were most impertinent.
Wherefore did they not
That hour destroy us?
Well demanded, wench;
My tale provokes that question. Dear, they durst
(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 prepar'd
A rotten carcase of a boat, not rigg'd,
Nor tackle, sail, nor mast; the very rats
Instinctively had quit it: there they hoist us,
To cry to the sea that roar'd to us; to sigh
To the winds, whose pity, sighing back again,
Did us but loving wrong.
Alack! what trouble
Was I then to you!
O! a cherubim
Thou wast, that did preserve me? Thou didst smile,
Infused with a fortitude from heaven,
When I have deck'd' the sea with drops full salt;
Under my burden groan'd; which rais'd in me
An undergoing stomach, to bear up
Against what should ensue.
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
Master of this design,) did give us, with
Rich garments, linens, stuffs, and necessaries,
Which since have steaded much; so, of his gentle
Knowing I lov'd my books, he furnish'd me,
(1) Thirsty. (2) Consideration. (3) Suggestion. (4) Sprinkled. (5) Stubborn resolution.
Know thus far forth.-
By accident most strange, bountiful fortune,
Now my dear lady, hath mine enemies
find my zenith doth depend upon
Brought to this shore: and by my prescience
A most auspicious star; whose influence
If now I court not, but omit, my fortunes
Will ever after droop.-Here cease more questions;
Thou art inclin'd to sleep; 'tis a good dulness,
And give it way;-I know thou canst not choose.-
Come away, servant, come: I am ready now;
Approach, my Ariel; come.
Ari. All hail, great master! grave sir, hail! I
On the curl'd clouds; to thy strong bidding, task
To answer thy best pleasure; be't to fly,
To swim, to dive into the fire, to ride
Ariel, and all his quality.
Perform'd to points the tempest that I bade thee?
Hast thou, spirit,
Ari. To every article.
I boarded the king's ship; now on the beak,
Now in the waist, the deck, in every cabin,
I flam'd amazement: sometimes, I'd divide,
And burn in many places; on the top-mast,
Then meet, and join: Jove's lightnings, the pre-
The yards, and bowsprit, would I flame distinctly;
O' the dreadful thunder-claps, more momentary,
And sight-outrunning were not: the fire, and cracks
Of sulphurous roaring, the most mighty Neptune
Seem'd to besiege, and make his bold waves tremble;
Yea, his dread trident shake.
Who was so firm, so constant, that this coil'
My brave spirit!
Would not infect his reason?
Not a soul
But felt a fever of the mad, and play'd
Some tricks of desperation: all, but mariners,
Flung'd in the foaming brine, and quit the vessel,
Then all a-fire with me: the king's son, Ferdinand,
With hair upstaring (then like reeds, not hair,)
Was the first man that leap'd; cricd, Hell is empty,
And all the devils are here.
But was not this nigh shore?
Close by, my master.
Pro. But are they, Ariel, safe?
But fresher than before: and, as thou bad'st me,
On their sustaining garments not a blemish,
Not a hair perish'd;
In troops I have dispers'd them 'bout the isle:
The king's son have I landed by himself;
(6) The minutest article.
(7) Bustle, tumult.