cramps, Side-stitches that shall pen thy breath up; urchins Cal. Thou strok'dst me, and mad'st much of me; wouldst give me Water with berries in't; and teach me how race, Full fathom five thy father lies; Fer. The ditty does remember my drown'd father: This is no mortal business, nor no sound Mira. What is't? a spirit? Lord, how it looks about! Believe me, sir, 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, Though thou didst learn, had that in't which good Was in the wreck; and but he's something stain'd With grief, that's beauty's canker, thou mightst call him A goodly person: he hath lost his fellows, Mira. I might call him A thing divine; for nothing natural I ever saw so noble. But, certainly a maid. Fer. No wonder, sir; My language; heavens! I am the best of them that speak this speech, Were I but where 'tis spoken. Pro. And his brave son being twain. [Aside. They have chang'd eyes:-Delicate Ariel, Fer. 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 Fer. No, as I am a man. 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'; Mira. I'll be his surety. Thou think'st there are no more such shapes as he, My affections So they are: Pro. Hark, what thou else shalt do me. My father's of a better nature, sir, Pro. Thou shalt be as free As mountain winds: but then exactly do All points of my command. Ari. To the syllable. Pro. Come, follow: speak not for him. [Exeunt. Seb. Look, he's winding up the watch of his wit; Seb. One-Tell. Gon. When every grief is entertain'd, that's offered, Comes to the entertainer Seb. A dollar. Gon. Dolor comes to him, indeed; you have spoken truer than you purposed. Seb. You have taken it wiselier than I meant you should. Gon. Therefore, my lord,— Ant. Fie, what a spendthrift is he of his tongue! Gon. Well, I have done: But yet Seb. He will be talking. Adr. Widow Dido, said you? you make me Gon. I assure you, Carthage. Ant. His word is more than the miraculous harp. Seb. He hath raised the walls, 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 Ant. Which of them, he, or Adrian, for a good the marriage of your daughter, who is now queen. wager, first begins to crow? Seb. The old cock. Ant. The cockrel. Seb. Done: the wager? Ant. A laughter. Seb. A match. Ant. He could not miss it. Adr. It must needs be of subtle, tender, and delicate temperance. Ant. Temperance was a delicate wench. Adr. The air breathes upon us here most sweetly. Seb. Of that there's none, or little. Ant. And the rarest that e'er came there. Ant. O, widow Dido; ay, widow Dido. Gon. Is not, sir, my doublet as fresh as the first day I wore it? I mean, in a sort. Ant. That sort was well fish'd for. Gon. When I wore it at your daughter's mar I saw him beat the surges under him, Gon. How lush and lusty the grass looks! how To the shore, that o'er his wave-worn basis bow'd, green! Ant. The ground, indeed, is tawny. Seb. With an eye of green in't. Ant. He misses not much. Seb. No: he doth but mistake the truth totally. Gon. But the rarity of it is (which is indeed almost 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 graced 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! As stooping to relieve him; I not doubt, But rather lose her to an African; Alon. By all of us; and the fair soul herself I fear, forever: Milan and Naples have Your own. Gon. And were the king of it, what would I do? Seb. 'Scape being drunk for want of wine. Execute all things: for no kind of traffic And women, too; but innocent and pure: Seb. Gon. All things in common nature should produce, Without sweat or endeavor: treason, felony, Seb. No marrying 'mong his subjects? Seb. 'Save his majesty! Ant. Long live Gonzalo! 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. Ant. What a blow was there given! Seb. An it had not fallen flat-long. Gon. You are gentlemen of brave metal: you would lift the moon out of her sphere, if she would continue in it five weeks without changing. 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, Do so: to ebb, 0, Seb. Ant. O, out of that no hope, What great hope have you! no hope, that way, is Another way so high a hope, that even Ambition cannot pierce a wink beyond, But doubts discovery there. Will you grant, with That Ferdinand is drown'd? Seb. Ant. me, He's gone. Claribel. Who's the next heir of Naples? Seb. Ant. She that is queen of Tunis; she that dwells Ten leagues beyond man's life; she that from Naples Will guard your person, while you take your rest, Can have no note, unless the sun were post, And watch your safety. Plenty. (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; 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. 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 kybe, 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 for ever: whiles you, doing thus, To the perpetual wink for aye might put This ancient morsel, this sir Prudence, who Should not upbraid our course. For all the rest, They'll take suggestion, 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 That these, his friends, are in; and sends me forth, (For else his project dies,) to keep them living. [Sings in GONZALO's ear. While you here do snoring lie, His time doth take: Ant. Then let us both be sudden. A bird of the jackdaw kind. Alon. Why, how now, ho! awake! Why are you drawn? Wherefore this ghastly looking? What's the matter? Alon. Heard you this, Gonzalo? Gon. Upon mine honor, 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 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 further search For my poor son. Gon. Heavens keep him from these beasts! For he is, sure, i' the island. Alon. Lead away. Ari. Prospero, my lord, shall know what I have done: [Aside. So, king, go safely on to seek thy son. [Exeunt. SCENE II.-Another part of the Island. 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, 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, yond' huge one, looks like a foul bombard' that" would shed his liquor. 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 holidayfool 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 Make mouths. A black jack of leather to hold beer. B |