The Tempest

The Tempest was printed as the first comedy, and consequently the first play, in the Folio of 1623. It may have been granted such prominence as the last non-collaborative play Shakespeare wrote, but it must in any event have been highly regarded by the publishers of the Folio, and by his former colleagues John Hemmings and Henry Condell, who vouched for the authority and completeness of the volume, to appear first in it. Its full, descriptive stage directions may have been amplified by the scribe Ralph Crane, who transcribed the manuscript copy used by the printer. Its date of composition is fixed as 1610–11 by a performance at Court on 1 November 1611 and by its use of William Strachey’s account (dated from Virginia on 15 July 1610 and known to have reached London no earlier than September) of the shipwreck of Sir William Somers on Bermuda in the summer of 1609. The play may have been designed for the Blackfriars playhouse, but no record of performance there or at the Globe has survived.

Like other plays from Hamlet onwards, The Tempest reflects Shakespeare’s knowledge of the Essays of Montaigne, in John Florio’s English version (1602). The essay ‘Of the Cannibals’ underlies Gonzalo’s vision of an ideal commonwealth, raises questions about the distinction between civilization and barbarism and probably suggested Caliban’s name. Virgil’s Aeneid is a further influence, while Prospero’s renunciation of magic, 5.1.33–57, is closely modelled on Medea’s invocation in Ovid’s Metamorphoses, 7.179–219.

The Tempest, in which Shakespeare observed the unities of place and time for the first time since The Comedy of Errors, is a work of synthesis and retrospection. The controlling role of Prospero may recall the Duke in Measure for Measure, who also prefers forgiveness to vindictive justice at the end. His magic harks back to Oberon in A Midsummer Night’s Dream, just as Ariel’s role recalls that of Puck. Its presentation of the pursuit of political power is equally reminiscent of the English histories and political tragedies. Stephano is the last, and most sinister, of Shakespeare’s comic drunkards.

The Tempest was among the first of Shakespeare’s plays to be adapted for the changed theatrical conditions of the Restoration. The version of it by Dryden and Davenant (1667) supplied it with a busier action, which introduced sisters for Miranda and Caliban, a female counterpart for Ariel, and Hippolyto, a man who has never seen a woman (a travesty role for an actress). The dreamlike quality of its action and the mythic symmetries of its cast have led to a wide and increasingly various array of interpretations of The Tempest. Nineteenth-century interest found its focus in Prospero, who was increasingly identified with Shakespeare; in the late twentieth century, attention shifted towards Caliban and colonialism, or towards Miranda and the oppressions of patriarchy. The play has inspired many later literary and musical compositions, among them Hector Berlioz’s symphonic fantasy Lélio (1832), Robert Browning’s ‘Caliban upon Setebos’ (1864), Jean Sibelius’s incidental music for the play, W. H. Auden’s The Sea and the Mirror (1944) and Sir Michael Tippett’s opera The Knot Garden (1969).

The 1999 Arden text is based on the 1623 First Folio.

LIST OF ROLES

ALONSO		King of Naples
SEBASTIAN		his brother
PROSPERO		the right Duke of Milan
ANTONIO		his brother, the usurping Duke of Milan
FERDINAND		son to the King of Naples
GONZALO		an honest old councillor
ADRIAN and FRANCISCO		lords
CALIBAN		a savage and deformed slave
TRINCULO		a jester
STEPHANO		a drunken butler
MASTER		of a ship
BOATSWAIN
MARINERS
MIRANDA		daughter to Prospero
ARIEL		an airy spirit

The Tempest

1.1 A tempestuous noise of thunder and lightning heard; enter a Shipmaster and a Boatswain.

MASTER     Boatswain!
BOATSWAIN     Here master. What cheer?
MASTER     Good, speak to th’ mariners. Fall to’t yarely
or we run ourselves aground. Bestir, bestir!     Exit.
Enter Mariners.
BOATSWAIN     Heigh, my hearts; cheerly, cheerly, my	5
hearts! Yare! Yare! Take in the topsail. Tend to the
master’s whistle! [to the storm] Blow till thou burst thy
wind, if room enough.
Enter ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, FERDINAND, GONZALO     and others.
ALONSO     Good boatswain, have care. Where’s the
master? Play the men!	10
BOATSWAIN     I pray now, keep below!
ANTONIO     Where is the master, boatswain?
BOATSWAIN     Do you not hear him? You mar our labour.
Keep your cabins! You do assist the storm.
GONZALO     Nay, good, be patient.	15
BOATSWAIN     When the sea is! Hence. What cares these
roarers for the name of king? To cabin! Silence!
Trouble us not.
GONZALO     Good, yet remember whom thou hast aboard.
BOATSWAIN     None that I more love than myself. You are	20
a councillor; 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 and make yourself
ready in your cabin for the mischance of the hour, if it	25
so hap. – Cheerly, good hearts. – Out of our way, I say!     Exit.
GONZALO     I have great comfort from this fellow.
Methinks he hath no drowning mark upon him – his
complexion is perfect gallows. Stand fast, good fate, to
his hanging; make the rope of his destiny our cable, for	30
our own doth little advantage. If he be not born to be
hanged, our case is miserable.     Exit.
Enter Boatswain.
BOATSWAIN     Down with the topmast! Yare! Lower,
lower! Bring her to try with main course. [A cry
within.] A plague upon this howling. They are louder	35
than the weather or our office.
Enter SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO and GONZALO.
Yet again? What do you here? Shall we give o’er and
drown? Have you a mind to sink?
SEBASTIAN     A pox o’your throat, you bawling,
blasphemous, incharitable dog.	40
BOATSWAIN     Work you, then.
ANTONIO     Hang, cur! Hang, you whoreson, insolent
noise-maker! We are less afraid to be drowned than
thou art.
GONZALO     I’ll warrant him for drowning, though the	45
ship were no stronger than a nutshell and as leaky as
an unstanched wench.
BOATSWAIN     Lay her a-hold, a-hold! Set her two courses
off to sea again! Lay her off!
Enter Mariners, wet.
MARINERS     All lost! To prayers, to prayers! All lost!	50
BOATSWAIN     What, must our mouths be cold?
GONZALO     The King and prince at prayers, let’s assist
them, for our case is as theirs.
SEBASTIAN     I’m out of patience.
ANTONIO     We are merely cheated of our lives by	55
drunkards. This wide-chopped rascal – would thou
mightst lie drowning the washing of ten tides!
GONZALO     He’ll be hanged yet, though every drop of
water swear against it and gape at widest to glut him.
[A confused noise within] Mercy on us! – We split, we	60
split! – Farewell my wife and children! – Farewell
brother! – We split, we split, we split!
ANTONIO     Let’s all sink wi’th’ King.
SEBASTIAN     Let’s take leave of him.     Exit with Antonio.
GONZALO     Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea	65
for an acre of barren ground – long heath, brown
furze, anything. The wills above be done, but I would
fain die a dry death.     Exit.

1.2 Enter PROSPERO and MIRANDA.

MIRANDA     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 th’ welkin’s cheek,
Dashes the fire out. O, I have suffered	5
With those that I saw suffer – a brave vessel
(Who had no doubt some noble creature in her)
Dashed all to pieces. O, the cry did knock
Against my very heart! Poor souls, they perished.
Had I been any god of power, I would	10
Have sunk the sea within the earth or ere
It should the good ship so have swallowed and
The fraughting souls within her.
PROSPERO     Be collected;
No more amazement. Tell your piteous heart
There’s no harm done.
MIRANDA     O woe the day.
PROSPERO     No harm!	15
I have done nothing but in care of thee,
Of thee, my dear one, thee my daughter, who
Art ignorant of what thou art, naught knowing
Of whence I am, nor that I am more better
Than Prospero, master of a full poor cell,	20
And thy no greater father.
MIRANDA     More to know
Did never meddle with my thoughts.
PROSPERO     ’Tis time
I should inform thee further. Lend thy hand
And pluck my magic garment from me. So,
Lie there my art. Wipe thou thine eyes, have comfort;	25
The direful spectacle of the wreck which touched
The very virtue of compassion in thee,
I have with such provision in mine art
So safely ordered, that there is no soul –
No, not so much perdition as an hair,	30
Betid to any creature in the vessel
Which thou heard’st cry, which thou sawst sink.
Sit down,
For thou must now know further.
MIRANDA     You have often
Begun to tell me what I am, but stopped
And left me to a bootless inquisition,	35
Concluding, ‘Stay, not yet’.
PROSPERO     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	40
Out three years old.
MIRANDA     Certainly, sir, I can.
PROSPERO     By what? By any other house or person?
Of any thing the image, tell me, that
Hath kept with thy remembrance.
MIRANDA     ’Tis far off,
And rather like a dream than an assurance	45
That my remembrance warrants. Had I not
Four or five women once, that tended me?
PROSPERO
Thou hadst, and more, Miranda. But how is it
That this lives in thy mind? What seest thou else
In the dark backward and abysm of time?	50
If thou rememb’rest aught ere thou cam’st here,
How thou cam’st here thou mayst.
MIRANDA     But that I do not.
PROSPERO     Twelve year since, Miranda, twelve year since,
Thy father was the Duke of Milan and
A prince of power.
MIRANDA     Sir, are not you my father?	55
PROSPERO     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
And princess, no worse issued.
MIRANDA     O, the heavens!
What foul play had we that we came from thence?	60
Or blessed wast we did?
PROSPERO     Both, both, my girl.
By foul play, as thou sayst, were we heaved thence,
But blessedly holp hither.
MIRANDA     O, my heart bleeds
To think o’th’ teen that I have turned you to,
Which is from my remembrance. Please you, farther.	65
PROSPERO     My brother and thy uncle, called Antonio –
I pray thee mark me, that a brother should
Be so perfidious – he, whom next thyself
Of all the world I loved, and to him put
The manage of my state, as at that time	70
Through all the signories it was the first,
And Prospero the prime Duke, being so reputed
In dignity, and for the liberal arts
Without a parallel; those being all my study,
The government I cast upon my brother	75
And to my state grew stranger, being transported
And rapt in secret studies. Thy false uncle –
Dost thou attend me?
MIRANDA     Sir, most heedfully.
PROSPERO     Being once perfected how to grant suits,
How to deny them, who t’advance and who	80
To trash for overtopping, new created
The creatures that were mine, I say, or changed ’em,
Or else new formed ’em; having both the key
Of officer and office, set all hearts i’th’ state
To what tune pleased his ear, that now he was	85
The ivy which had hid my princely trunk
And sucked my verdure out on’t. Thou attend’st not!
MIRANDA     O, good sir, I do.
PROSPERO     I pray thee, mark me.
I thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicated
To closeness and the bettering of my mind	90
With that which, but by being so retired,
O’er-prized all popular rate, in my false brother
Awaked an evil nature, and my trust,
Like a good parent, did beget of him
A falsehood in its contrary as great	95
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 into truth by telling of it,	100
Made such a sinner of his memory
To credit his own lie, he did believe
He was indeed the duke, out o’th’ substitution
And executing th’outward face of royalty
With all prerogative. Hence his ambition growing –	105
Dost thou hear?
MIRANDA     Your tale, sir, would cure deafness.
PROSPERO
To have no screen between this part he played
And him he played it for, he needs will be
Absolute Milan. Me, poor man, my library
Was dukedom large enough. Of temporal royalties	110
He thinks me now incapable; confederates,
So dry he was for sway, wi’th’ King of Naples
To give him annual tribute, do him homage,
Subject his coronet to his crown, and bend
The dukedom yet unbowed (alas, poor Milan)	115
To most ignoble stooping.
MIRANDA     O, the heavens!
PROSPERO
Mark his condition and th’event, then tell me
If this might be a brother.
MIRANDA     I should sin
To think but nobly of my grandmother;
Good wombs have borne bad sons.
PROSPERO     Now the condition.	120
This King of Naples, being an enemy
To me inveterate, hearkens my brother’s suit,
Which was that he, in lieu o’th’ premises
Of homage, and I know not how much tribute,
Should presently extirpate me and mine	125
Out of the dukedom and confer fair Milan,
With all the honours, on my brother. Whereon –
A treacherous army levied – one midnight
Fated to th’ purpose did Antonio open
The gates of Milan and i’th’ dead of darkness	130
The ministers for th’ purpose hurried thence
Me and thy crying self.
MIRANDA     Alack, for pity.
I, not rememb’ring how I cried out then,
Will cry it o’er again. It is a hint
That wrings mine eyes to’t.
PROSPERO     Hear a little further,	135
And then I’ll bring thee to the present business
Which now’s upon’s, without the which this story
Were most impertinent.
MIRANDA     Wherefore did they not
That hour destroy us?
PROSPERO     Well demanded, wench:
My tale provokes that question. Dear, they durst not,	140
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 prepared	145
A rotten carcass of a butt, not rigged,
Nor tackle, sail, nor mast – the very rats
Instinctively have quit it. There they hoist us
To cry to th’ sea that roared to us, to sigh
To th’ winds, whose pity, sighing back again,	150
Did us but loving wrong.
MIRANDA     Alack, what trouble
Was I then to you?
PROSPERO     O, a cherubin
Thou wast that did preserve me. Thou didst smile,
Infused with a fortitude from heaven,
When I have decked the sea with drops full salt,	155
Under my burden groaned, which raised in me
An undergoing stomach to bear up
Against what should ensue.
MIRANDA     How came we ashore?
PROSPERO     By providence divine.
Some food we had, and some fresh water, that	160
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 gentleness,	165
Knowing I loved my books, he furnished me
From mine own library with volumes that
I prize above my dukedom.
MIRANDA     Would I might
But ever see that man!
PROSPERO     Now I arise.
Sit still and hear the last of our sea-sorrow.	170
Here in this island we arrived, and here
Have I, thy schoolmaster, made thee more profit
Than other princes can that have more time
For vainer hours, and tutors not so careful.
MIRANDA
Heavens thank you for’t. And now I pray you, sir,	175
For still ’tis beating in my mind, your reason
For raising this sea-storm?
PROSPERO     Know thus far forth:
By accident most strange, bountiful fortune
(Now, my dear lady) hath mine enemies
Brought to this shore; and by my prescience	180
I find my zenith doth depend upon
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 inclined to sleep; ’tis a good dullness,	185
And give it way. I know thou canst not choose.
[to Ariel] Come away, servant, come; I am ready now.
Approach, my Ariel. Come.
Enter ARIEL.
ARIEL     All hail, great master; grave sir, hail! I come
To answer thy best pleasure, be’t to fly,	190
To swim, to dive into the fire, to ride
On the curled clouds. To thy strong bidding, task
Ariel and all his quality.
PROSPERO     Hast thou, spirit,
Performed to point the tempest that I bade thee?
ARIEL     To every article.	195
I boarded the King’s ship: now on the beak,
Now in the waist, the deck, in every cabin
I flamed amazement. Sometime I’d divide
And burn in many places – on the topmast,
The yards and bowsprit would I flame distinctly,	200
Then meet and join. Jove’s lightning, the precursors
O’th’ dreadful thunderclaps, more momentary
And sight-outrunning were not; the fire and cracks
Of sulphurous roaring, the most mighty Neptune
Seem to besiege and make his bold waves tremble,	205
Yea, his dread trident shake.
PROSPERO     My brave spirit,
Who was so firm, so constant, that this coil
Would not infect his reason?
ARIEL     Not a soul
But felt a fever of the mad and played
Some tricks of desperation. All but mariners	210
Plunged in the foaming brine and quit the vessel;
Then all afire with me, the King’s son Ferdinand,
With hair up-staring (then like reeds, not hair),
Was the first man that leapt, cried ‘Hell is empty,
And all the devils are here’.
PROSPERO     Why, that’s my spirit!	215
But was not this nigh shore?
ARIEL     Close by, my master.
PROSPERO     But are they, Ariel, safe?
ARIEL     Not a hair perished;
On their sustaining garments not a blemish,
But fresher than before; and, as thou bad’st me,
In troops I have dispersed them ’bout the isle.	220
The King’s son have I landed by himself,
Whom I left cooling of the air with sighs,
In an odd angle of the isle, and sitting,
His arms in this sad knot.
PROSPERO     Of the King’s ship,
The mariners, say how thou hast disposed,	225
And all the rest o’th’ fleet?
ARIEL     Safely in harbour
Is the King’s ship, in the deep nook where once
Thou called’st me up at midnight to fetch dew
From the still-vexed Bermudas; there she’s hid,
The mariners all under hatches stowed,	230
Who, with a charm joined to their suffered labour,
I have left asleep. And for the rest o’th’ fleet,
Which I dispersed, they all have met again,
And are upon the Mediterranean float,
Bound sadly home for Naples,	235
Supposing that they saw the King’s ship wrecked
And his great person perish.
PROSPERO     Ariel, thy charge
Exactly is performed; but there’s more work.
What is the time o’th’ day?
ARIEL     Past the mid-season.
PROSPERO
At least two glasses. The time ’twixt six and now	240
Must by us both be spent most preciously.
ARIEL
Is there more toil? Since thou dost give me pains,
Let me remember thee what thou hast promised,
Which is not yet performed me.
PROSPERO     How now? Moody?
What is’t thou canst demand?
ARIEL     My liberty.	245
PROSPERO     Before the time be out? No more!
ARIEL     I prithee
Remember I have done thee worthy service,
Told thee no lies, made thee no mistakings, served
Without or grudge or grumblings. Thou did promise
To bate me a full year.
PROSPERO     Dost thou forget	250
From what a torment I did free thee?
ARIEL     No.
PROSPERO
Thou dost, and think’st it much to tread the ooze
Of the salt deep,
To run upon the sharp wind of the north,
To do me business in the veins o’th’ earth	255
When it is baked with frost.
ARIEL     I do not, sir.
PROSPERO
Thou liest, malignant thing; hast thou forgot
The foul witch Sycorax, who with age and envy
Was grown into a hoop? Hast thou forgot her?
ARIEL     No, sir.
PROSPERO     Thou hast! Where was she born? Speak; tell
me.	260
ARIEL     Sir, in Algiers.
PROSPERO     O, was she so? I must
Once in a month recount what thou hast been,
Which thou forget’st. This damned witch Sycorax,
For mischiefs manifold and sorceries terrible
To enter human hearing, from Algiers,	265
Thou knowst, was banished. For one thing she did
They would not take her life; is not this true?
ARIEL     Ay, sir.
PROSPERO
This blue-eyed hag was hither brought with child,
And here was left by th’ sailors. Thou, my slave,	270
As thou report’st thyself, was then her servant,
And – for thou wast a spirit too delicate
To act her earthy and abhorred commands,
Refusing her grand hests – she did confine thee,
By help of her more potent ministers	275
And in her most unmitigable rage,
Into a cloven pine, within which rift
Imprisoned thou didst painfully remain
A dozen years, within which space she died
And left thee there, where thou didst vent thy groans	280
As fast as millwheels strike. Then was this island
(Save for the son that she did litter here,
A freckled whelp, hag-born) not honoured with
A human shape.
ARIEL     Yes, Caliban, her son.
PROSPERO     Dull thing, I say so – he, that Caliban,	285
Whom now I keep in service. Thou best knowst
What torment I did find thee in: thy groans
Did make wolves howl and penetrate the breasts
Of ever-angry bears. It was a torment
To lay upon the damned, which Sycorax	290
Could not again undo. It was mine art,
When I arrived and heard thee, that made gape
The pine and let thee out.
ARIEL     I thank thee, master.
PROSPERO     If thou more murmur’st, I will rend an oak
And peg thee in his knotty entrails till	295
Thou hast howled away twelve winters.
ARIEL     Pardon, master,
I will be correspondent to command
And do my spriting gently.
PROSPERO     Do so, and after two days
I will discharge thee.
ARIEL     That’s my noble master.	300
What shall I do? Say what? What shall I do?
PROSPERO     Go make thyself like a nymph o’th’ sea;
Be subject to no sight but thine and mine, invisible
To every eyeball else. Go take this shape
And hither come in’t. Go! Hence with diligence.	305
Exit Ariel.
[to Miranda] Awake, dear heart, awake; thou hast slept
well.
Awake.
MIRANDA     The strangeness of your story put
Heaviness in me.
PROSPERO     Shake it off. Come on,
We’ll visit Caliban, my slave, who never
Yields us kind answer.
MIRANDA     ’Tis a villain, sir,	310
I do not love to look on.
PROSPERO     But as ’tis,
We cannot miss him; he does make our fire,
Fetch in our wood, and serves in offices
That profit us. – What ho, slave! Caliban,
Thou earth, thou: speak!
CALIBAN [within]     There’s wood enough within.	315
PROSPERO
Come forth I say, there’s other business for thee.
Come, thou tortoise, when?
Enter ARIEL, like a water nymph.
Fine apparition, my quaint Ariel,
Hark in thine ear.
ARIEL     My lord, it shall be done.     Exit.
PROSPERO
Thou poisonous slave, got by the devil himself	320
Upon thy wicked dam; come forth!
Enter CALIBAN.
CALIBAN     As wicked dew as ere my mother brushed
With raven’s feather from unwholesome fen
Drop on you both. A southwest blow on ye
And blister you all o’er.	325
PROSPERO
For this, be sure, tonight thou shalt have cramps,
Side-stitches, that shall pen thy breath up; urchins
Shall forth at vast of night that they may work
All exercise on thee; thou shalt be pinched
As thick as honeycomb, each pinch more stinging	330
Than bees that made ’em.
CALIBAN     I must eat my dinner.
This island’s mine by Sycorax, my mother,
Which thou tak’st from me. When thou cam’st first
Thou strok’st me and made much of me; wouldst
give me
Water with berries in’t, and teach me how	335
To name the bigger light and how the less
That burn by day and night. And then I loved thee
And showed thee all the qualities o’th’ isle:
The fresh springs, brine pits, barren place and fertile.
Cursed be I that did so! All the charms	340
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 o’th’ island.
PROSPERO     Thou most lying slave,	345
Whom stripes may move, not kindness; I have used thee
(Filth as thou art) with humane care and lodged thee
In mine own cell, till thou didst seek to violate
The honour of my child.
CALIBAN     O ho, O ho! Would’t had been done;	350
Thou didst prevent me, I had peopled else
This isle with Calibans.
MIRANDA     Abhorred slave,
Which any print of goodness wilt not take,
Being capable of all ill; I pitied thee,
Took pains to make thee speak, taught thee each hour	355
One thing or other. When thou didst not, savage,
Know thine own meaning, but wouldst gabble like
A thing most brutish, I endowed thy purposes With
words that made them known. But thy vile race
(Though thou didst learn) had that in’t which good natures	360
Could not abide to be with; therefore wast thou
Deservedly confined into this rock,
Who hadst deserved more than a prison.
CALIBAN     You taught me language, and my profit on’t
Is I know how to curse. The red plague rid you	365
For learning me your language.
PROSPERO     Hag-seed, hence:
Fetch us in fuel, and be quick – thou’rt 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,	370
Fill all thy bones with aches, make thee roar,
That beasts shall tremble at thy din.
CALIBAN     No, pray thee.
[aside] I must obey; his art is of such power
It would control my dam’s god Setebos,
And make a vassal of him.
PROSPERO     So, slave, hence.	375
Exit Caliban.
Enter FERDINAND, and ARIEL, invisible, playing and singing.
ARIEL     [Sings.]
Come unto these yellow sands, And then take hands;
And then take hands;
Curtsied when you have, and kissed The wild waves whist;
The wild waves whist;
Foot it featly here and there,	380
And sweet sprites bear
The burden.
[Burden dispersedly]
SPIRITS     Hark, hark! Bow-wow,
The watch dogs bark, bow-wow.
ARIEL     Hark hark, I hear,	385
The strain of strutting chanticleer
Cry cock a diddle dow.
FERDINAND
Where should this music be? I’th’ air, or th’earth?
It sounds no more, and sure it waits upon
Some god o’th’ island. Sitting on a bank,	390
Weeping again the King my father’s wreck,
This music crept by me upon the waters,
Allaying both their fury and my passion
With its sweet air. Thence I have followed it
(Or it hath drawn me, rather) but ’tis gone.	395
No, it begins again.
ARIEL     [Sings.]
Full fathom five thy father lies,
Of his bones are coral made;
Those are pearls that were his eyes,
Nothing of him that doth fade	400
But doth suffer a sea-change
Into something rich and strange.
Sea nymphs hourly ring his knell.
SPIRITS     Ding dong.
ARIEL     Hark, now I hear them.
SPIRITS     Ding dong bell.	405
FERDINAND
The ditty does remember my drowned father;
This is no mortal business nor no sound
That the earth owes. I hear it now above me.
PROSPERO     [to Miranda]
The fringed curtains of thine eye advance, And say what thou seest yond.
And say what thou seest yond.
MIRANDA     What is’t, a spirit?	410
Lord, how it looks about. Believe me, sir,
It carries a brave form. But ’tis a spirit.
PROSPERO
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 stained	415
With grief (that’s beauty’s canker) thou mightst call him
A goodly person. He hath lost his fellows
And strays about to find ’em.
MIRANDA     I might call him
A thing divine, for nothing natural I ever saw so noble.
PROSPERO     [aside] It goes on, I see,	420
As my soul prompts it. [to Ariel] Spirit, fine spirit,
I’ll free thee
Within two days for this.
FERDINAND     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	425
How I may bear me here. My prime request,
Which I do last pronounce, is (O, you wonder!)
If you be maid or no?
MIRANDA     No wonder, sir,
But certainly a maid.
FERDINAND     My language? Heavens!
I am the best of them that speak this speech,	430
Were I but where ’tis spoken.
PROSPERO     How? The best?
What wert thou if the King of Naples heard thee?
FERDINAND     A single thing, as I am now, that wonders
To hear thee speak of Naples. He does hear me,
And that he does, I weep. Myself am Naples,	435
Who, with mine eyes, never since at ebb, beheld
The King my father wrecked.
MIRANDA     Alack, for mercy!
FERDINAND
Yes, faith, and all his lords – the Duke of Milan
And his brave son being twain.
PROSPERO [aside]     The Duke of Milan
And his more braver daughter could control thee	440
If now ’twere fit to do’t. At the first sight
They have changed eyes. [to Ariel] Delicate Ariel,
I’ll set thee free for this. [to Ferdinand] A word, good sir;
I fear you have done yourself some wrong. A word.
MIRANDA [aside]
Why speaks my father so ungently? This	445
Is the third man that e’er I saw, the first
That e’er I sighed for. Pity move my father
To be inclined my way.
FERDINAND     O, if a virgin,
And your affection not gone forth, I’ll make you
The Queen of Naples.
PROSPERO     Soft, sir, one word more.	450
[aside] They are both in either’s powers, but this
swift business
I must uneasy make, lest too light winning
Make the prize light. [to Ferdinand] One word more.
I charge thee
That thou attend me. Thou dost here usurp
The name thou ow’st not and hast put thyself	455
Upon this island as a spy, to win it
From me, the lord on’t.
FERDINAND     No, as I am a man.
MIRANDA
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.
PROSPERO [to Ferdinand]      Follow me. –	460
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 mussels, withered roots, and husks
Wherein the acorn cradled. Follow!
FERDINAND     No,	465
I will resist such entertainment till
Mine enemy has more power.
[He draws and is charmed from moving.]
MIRANDA     O dear father,
Make not too rash a trial of him, for
He’s gentle and not fearful.
PROSPERO     What, I say,
My foot my tutor? Put thy sword up, traitor,	470
Who mak’st a show but dar’st not strike, thy conscience
Is so possessed with guilt. Come from thy ward,
For I can here disarm thee with this stick
And make thy weapon drop.
MIRANDA     Beseech you, father –
PROSPERO     Hence; hang not on my garments.
MIRANDA     Sir, have pity;	475
I’ll be his surety.
PROSPERO     Silence! One word more
Shall make me chide thee, if not hate thee. What,
An advocate for an impostor? Hush.
Thou think’st there is no more such shapes as he,
Having seen but him and Caliban. Foolish wench,	480
To th’ most of men, this is a Caliban,
And they to him are angels.
MIRANDA     My affections
Are then most humble. I have no ambition
To see a goodlier man.
PROSPERO     [to Ferdinand] Come on, obey:
Thy nerves are in their infancy again	485
And have no vigour in them.
FERDINAND     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, nor this man’s threats
(To whom I am subdued) are but light to me,	490
Might I but through my prison once a day
Behold this maid. All corners else o’th’ earth
Let liberty make use of; space enough
Have I in such a prison.
PROSPERO     [aside] It works. [to Ferdinand] Come on. –
Thou hast done well, fine Ariel. – Follow me; –	495
Hark what thou else shalt do me.
MIRANDA     [to Ferdinand] Be of comfort;
My father’s of a better nature, sir,
Than he appears by speech. This is unwonted
Which now came from him.
PROSPERO     [to Ariel] Thou shalt be as free
As mountain winds, but then exactly do	500
All points of my command.
ARIEL     To th’ syllable.
PROSPERO     [to Ferdinand]
Come, follow; – speak not for him.
Exeunt.

2.1 Enter ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, GONZALO, ADRIAN, FRANCISCO and others.

GONZALO     Beseech you, sir, be merry. You have cause
(So have we all) of joy, for our escape
Is much beyond our loss. Our hint of woe
Is common: every day some sailor’s wife,
The masters of some merchant, and the merchant,	5
Have just our theme of woe. But for the miracle,
I mean our preservation, few in millions
Can speak like us. Then wisely, good sir, weigh
Our sorrow with our comfort.
ALONSO     Prithee, peace.
SEBASTIAN     [to Antonio] He receives comfort like cold	10
porridge.
ANTONIO     [to Sebastian] The visitor will not give him
o’er so.
SEBASTIAN     Look, he’s winding up the watch of his wit;
by and by it will strike –	15
GONZALO     [to Alonso] Sir –
SEBASTIAN     One. Tell.
GONZALO     When every grief is entertained that’s
offered, comes to th’entertainer –
SEBASTIAN     A dollar.	20
GONZALO     Dolour comes to him, indeed. You have
spoken truer than you purposed.
SEBASTIAN     You have taken it wiselier than I meant you
should.
GONZALO     Therefore, my lord –	25
ANTONIO     Fie, what a spendthrift is he of his tongue!
ALONSO     I prithee, spare.
GONZALO     Well, I have done; but yet –
SEBASTIAN     He will be talking.
ANTONIO     Which, of he or Adrian, for a good wager,	30
first begins to crow?
SEBASTIAN     The old cock.
ANTONIO     The cockerel.
SEBASTIAN     Done! The wager?
ANTONIO     A laughter.	35
SEBASTIAN     A match!
ADRIAN     Though this island seem to be desert –
ANTONIO     Ha, ha, ha.
SEBASTIAN     So, you’re paid.
ADRIAN     Uninhabitable and almost inaccessible –	40
SEBASTIAN     Yet –
ADRIAN     Yet –
ANTONIO     He could not miss’t.
ADRIAN     It must needs be of subtle, tender and delicate
temperance.	45
ANTONIO     Temperance was a delicate wench.
SEBASTIAN     Ay, and a subtle, as he most learnedly
delivered.
ADRIAN     The air breathes upon us here most sweetly.
SEBASTIAN     As if it had lungs, and rotten ones.	50
ANTONIO     Or, as ’twere perfumed by a fen.
GONZALO     Here is everything advantageous to life.
ANTONIO     True, save means to live.
SEBASTIAN     Of that there’s none, or little.
GONZALO     How lush and lusty the grass looks! How green!	55
ANTONIO     The ground indeed is tawny.
SEBASTIAN     With an eye of green in’t.
ANTONIO     He misses not much.
SEBASTIAN     No; he doth but mistake the truth totally.
GONZALO     But the rarity of it is, which is indeed almost	60
beyond credit –
SEBASTIAN     As many vouched rarities are.
GONZALO     That our garments being, as they were,
drenched in the sea, hold notwithstanding their
freshness and gloss, being rather new-dyed than	65
stained with salt water.
ANTONIO     If but one of his pockets could speak, would it
not say he lies?
SEBASTIAN     Ay, or very falsely pocket up his report.
GONZALO     Methinks our garments are now as fresh as	70
when we put them on first in Africa, at the marriage of
the King’s fair daughter Claribel to the King of Tunis.
SEBASTIAN     ’Twas a sweet marriage, and we prosper
well in our return.
ADRIAN     Tunis was never graced before with such a	75
paragon to their queen.
GONZALO     Not since widow Dido’s time.
ANTONIO     Widow? A pox o’that. How came that widow
in? Widow Dido!
SEBASTIAN     What if he had said widower Aeneas too?	80
Good lord, how you take it!
ADRIAN     Widow Dido, said you? You make me study of
that. She was of Carthage, not of Tunis.
GONZALO     This Tunis, sir, was Carthage.
ADRIAN     Carthage?	85
GONZALO     I assure you, Carthage.
ANTONIO     His word is more than the miraculous harp.
SEBASTIAN     He hath raised the wall, and houses too.
ANTONIO     What impossible matter will he make easy
next?	90
SEBASTIAN     I think he will carry this island home in his
pocket and give it his son for an apple.
ANTONIO     And sowing the kernels of it in the sea, bring
forth more islands!
GONZALO     I –	95
ANTONIO     Why, in good time.
GONZALO     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.
ANTONIO     And the rarest that e’er came there.	100
SEBASTIAN     Bate, I beseech you, widow Dido.
ANTONIO     O, widow Dido? Ay, widow Dido.
GONZALO     Is not, sir, my doublet as fresh as the first
day I wore it? I mean, in a sort.
ANTONIO     That sort was well fished for.	105
GONZALO     When I wore it at your daughter’s marriage.
ALONSO     You cram these words into mine ears, against
The stomach of my sense. Would I had never
Married my daughter there, for coming thence
My son is lost and (in my rate) she too,	110
Who is so far from Italy removed
I ne’er again shall see her. O thou mine heir
Of Naples and of Milan, what strange fish
Hath made his meal on thee?
FRANCISCO     Sir, he may live.
I saw him beat the surges under him	115
And ride upon their backs. He trod the water,
Whose enmity he flung aside, and breasted
The surge most swoll’n that met him. His bold head
’Bove the contentious waves he kept and oared
Himself with his good arms in lusty stroke	120
To th’ shore, that o’er his wave-worn basis bowed,
As stooping to relieve him. I not doubt
He came alive to land.
ALONSO     No, no, he’s gone.
SEBASTIAN
Sir, you may thank yourself for this great loss,
That would not bless our Europe with your daughter	125
But rather loose her to an African,
Where she at least is banished from your eye,
Who hath cause to wet the grief on’t.
ALONSO     Prithee, peace.
SEBASTIAN
You were kneeled to and importuned otherwise
By all of us, and the fair soul herself	130
Weighed between loathness and obedience, at
Which end o’th’ beam should bow. We have lost your son,
I fear, for ever. Milan and Naples have
More widows in them of this business’ making
Than we bring men to comfort them.	135
The fault’s your own.
ALONSO     So is the dear’st o’th’ loss.
GONZALO     My lord Sebastian,
The truth you speak doth lack some gentleness,
And time to speak it in. You rub the sore
When you should bring the plaster.	140
SEBASTIAN     Very well.
ANTONIO     And most chirurgeonly!
GONZALO     It is foul weather in us all, good sir,
When you are cloudy.
SEBASTIAN     Foul weather?
ANTONIO     Very foul.
GONZALO     Had I plantation of this isle, my lord –
ANTONIO     He’d sow’t with nettle-seed.
SEBASTIAN     Or docks, or mallows.	145
GONZALO     And were the king on’t, what would I do?
SEBASTIAN     ’Scape being drunk, for want of wine.
GONZALO     I’th’ commonwealth I would by contraries
Execute all things, for no kind of traffic
Would I admit; no name of magistrate;	150
Letters should not be known; riches, poverty
And use of service, none; contract, succession,
Bourn, bound of land, tilth, vineyard – none;
No use of metal, corn, or wine or oil;
No occupation, all men idle, all;	155
And women, too, but innocent and pure;
No sovereignty –
SEBASTIAN     Yet he would be king on’t.
ANTONIO     The latter end of his commonwealth forgets
the beginning.
GONZALO
All things in common nature should produce	160
Without sweat or endeavour; treason, felony,
Sword, pike, knife, gun, or need of any engine
Would I not have; but nature should bring forth
Of its own kind all foison, all abundance,
To feed my innocent people.	165
SEBASTIAN     No marrying ’mong his subjects?
ANTONIO     None, man, all idle – whores and knaves.
GONZALO     I would with such perfection govern, sir,
T’excel the Golden Age.
SEBASTIAN     ’Save his majesty!
ANTONIO     Long live Gonzalo!	170

GONZALO     And – do you mark me, sir? –
ALONSO     Prithee, no more.
Thou dost talk nothing to me.
GONZALO     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	175
laugh at nothing.
ANTONIO     ’Twas you we laughed at.
GONZALO     Who, in this kind of merry fooling, am
nothing to you, so you may continue and laugh at
nothing still.	180
ANTONIO     What a blow was there given!
SEBASTIAN     An it had not fallen flat-long.
GONZALO     You are gentlemen of brave mettle. You
would lift the moon out of her sphere, if she would
continue in it five weeks without changing.	185
Enter ARIEL playing solemn music.
SEBASTIAN     We would so, and then go a bat-fowling.
ANTONIO     Nay, good my lord, be not angry.
GONZALO     No, I warrant you, I will not adventure my
discretion so weakly. Will you laugh me asleep, for I
am very heavy.	190
ANTONIO     Go sleep, and hear us.
[All sleep except Alonso, Sebastian and Antonio.]
ALONSO     What, all so soon asleep? I wish mine eyes
Would, with themselves, shut up my thoughts. I find
They are inclined to do so.
SEBASTIAN     Please you, sir,
Do not omit the heavy offer of it.	195
It seldom visits sorrow; when it doth,
It is a comforter.
ANTONIO     We two, my lord,
Will guard your person while you take your rest,
And watch your safety.
ALONSO     Thank you. Wondrous heavy.
[Alonso sleeps. Exit Ariel.]
SEBASTIAN     What a strange drowsiness possesses them!	200
ANTONIO     It is the quality o’th’ climate.
SEBASTIAN     Why
Doth it not then our eyelids sink? I find not
Myself disposed to sleep.
ANTONIO     Nor I. My spirits are nimble.
They fell together all, as by consent;
They dropped, as by a thunderstroke. What might,	205
Worthy Sebastian, O, what might –? No more;
And yet, methinks I see it in thy face
What thou shouldst be. Th’occasion speaks thee, and
My strong imagination sees a crown
Dropping upon thy head.
SEBASTIAN     What, art thou waking?	210
ANTONIO     Do you not hear me speak?
SEBASTIAN     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,	215
And yet so fast asleep.
ANTONIO     Noble Sebastian,
Thou let’st thy fortune sleep – die rather; wink’st
Whiles thou art waking.
SEBASTIAN     Thou dost snore distinctly.	220
There’s meaning in thy snores.
ANTONIO     I am more serious than my custom. You
Must be so too, if heed me, which to do
Trebles thee o’er.
SEBASTIAN     Well, I am standing water.
ANTONIO     I’ll teach you how to flow.
SEBASTIAN     Do so. To ebb
Hereditary sloth instructs me.
ANTONIO     O,
If you but knew how you the purpose cherish	225
Whiles thus you mock it, how in stripping it
You more invest it. Ebbing men, indeed,
Most often do so near the bottom run
By their own fear or sloth.
SEBASTIAN     Prithee, say on;
The setting of thine eye and cheek proclaim	230
A matter from thee, and a birth, indeed,
Which throes thee much to yield.
ANTONIO     Thus, sir:
Although this lord of weak remembrance – this
Who shall be of as little memory
When he is earthed – hath here almost persuaded	235
(For he’s a spirit of persuasion, only
Professes to persuade) the King his son’s alive,
’Tis as impossible that he’s undrowned
As he that sleeps here swims.
SEBASTIAN     I have no hope
That he’s undrowned.
ANTONIO     O, out of that ‘no hope’,	240
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 doubt discovery there. Will you grant with me
That Ferdinand is drowned?
SEBASTIAN     He’s gone.
ANTONIO     Then tell me,	245
Who’s the next heir of Naples?
SEBASTIAN     Claribel.
ANTONIO     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’th’ moon’s too slow – till newborn chins	250
Be rough and razorable; she that from whom
We all were sea-swallowed, though some cast again,
And by that destiny to perform an act
Whereof what’s past is prologue, what to come
In yours and my discharge!	255
SEBASTIAN     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.
ANTONIO     A space whose every cubit
Seems to cry out, ‘How shall that Claribel	260
Measure us back to Naples? Keep in Tunis,
And let Sebastian wake.’ Say this were death
That now hath seized them; why, they were no worse
Than now they are. There be that can rule Naples
As well as he that sleeps; lords that can prate	265
As amply and unnecessarily
As this Gonzalo. I myself could make
A chough of as deep chat. O that you bore
The mind that I do! What a sleep were this
For your advancement! Do you understand me?	270
SEBASTIAN     Methinks I do.
ANTONIO     And how does your content
Tender your own good fortune?
SEBASTIAN     I remember
You did supplant your brother Prospero.
ANTONIO     True:
And look how well my garments sit upon me
Much feater than before. My brother’s servants	275
Were then my fellows; now they are my men.
SEBASTIAN     But for your conscience?
ANTONIO     Ay, sir, where lies that? If ’twere a kibe
’Twould put me to my slipper, but I feel not
This deity in my bosom. Twenty consciences	280
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 (that’s dead)
Whom I with this obedient steel – three inches of it –	285
Can lay to bed forever (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;	290
They’ll tell the clock to any business that
We say befits the hour.
SEBASTIAN     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 payest,	295
And I the king shall love thee.
ANTONIO     Draw together,
And when I rear my hand, do you the like
To fall it on Gonzalo.
SEBASTIAN     O, but one word –
Enter ARIEL with music and song.
ARIEL
My master through his art foresees the danger
That you, his friend, are in, and sends me forth	300
(For else his project dies) to keep them living.
[Sings in Gonzalo’s ear.]
While you here do snoring lie,
Open-eyed conspiracy
His time doth take.
If of life you keep a care,
Shake off slumber and beware.	305
Awake, awake!
ANTONIO     Then let us both be sudden.
GONZALO     [Wakes.]
Now, good angels preserve the King!
ALONSO     [Wakes.]
Why, how now, ho! Awake! Why are you drawn?
Wherefore this ghastly looking?	310
GONZALO     What’s the matter?
SEBASTIAN     Whiles we stood here securing your repose,
Even now we heard a hollow burst of bellowing,
Like bulls, or rather lions. Did’t not wake you?
It struck mine ear most terribly.
ALONSO     I heard nothing.	315
ANTONIO     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.
ALONSO     Heard you this, Gonzalo?
GONZALO     Upon mine honour, sir, I heard a humming,
And that a strange one too, which did awake me.	320
I shaked you, sir, and cried. As mine eyes opened,
I saw their weapons drawn. There was a noise,
That’s verily. ’Tis best we stand upon our guard,
Or that we quit this place. Let’s draw our weapons.
ALONSO
Lead off this ground, and let’s make further search	325
For my poor son.
GONZALO     Heavens keep him from these beasts,
For he is, sure, i’th’ island.
ALONSO     Lead away.
ARIEL     Prospero, my lord, shall know what I have done;
So, King, go safely on to seek thy son.     Exeunt.

2.2 Enter CALIBAN, with a burden of wood; a noise of thunder heard.

CALIBAN     All the infections that the sun sucks up
From bogs, fens, flats, on Prosper fall, and make him
By inchmeal 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’th’ mire,	5
Nor lead me, like a firebrand in the dark,
Out of my way unless he bid ’em. But
For every trifle are they set upon me:
Sometime like apes that mow and chatter at me
And after bite me, then like hedgehogs which	10
Lie tumbling in my barefoot way and mount
Their pricks at my footfall. Sometime am I
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	15
For bringing wood in slowly. I’ll fall flat;
Perchance he will not mind me.
TRINCULO     Here’s neither bush nor shrub to bear off any
weather at all, and another storm brewing; I hear it sing
i’th’ wind. Yond same black cloud, yond huge one,	20
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. [Sees Caliban.] What have we here, a man
or a fish? Dead or alive? A fish: he smells like a fish, a	25
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 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	30
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. Legged like a man and his fins like
arms! Warm, o’my troth! I do now let loose my
opinion, hold it no longer: this is no fish, but an	35
islander that hath lately suffered by a thunderbolt.
Alas, the storm is come again. My best way is to creep
under his gaberdine; there is no other shelter
hereabout. Misery acquaints a man with strange
bedfellows! I will here shroud till the dregs of the	40
storm be past.
Enter STEPHANO singing.
STEPHANO     I shall no more to sea, to sea,
Here shall I die ashore.
This is a very scurvy tune to sing at a man’s funeral.
Well, here’s my comfort. [Drinks and then sings.]	45
The master, the swabber, the boatswain and I;
The gunner and his mate,
Loved Mall, Meg, and Marian, and Margery,
But none of us cared for Kate.
For she had a tongue with a tang,	50
Would cry to a sailor, ‘Go hang!’
She loved not the savour of tar nor of pitch,
Yet a tailor might scratch her where’er she did itch.
Then to sea, boys, and let her go hang!
This is a scurvy tune too, but here’s my comfort.	55
[Drinks.]
CALIBAN     Do not torment me! O!
STEPHANO     What’s the matter? Have we devils here? Do
you put tricks upon’s with savages and men of Ind?
Ha! I have not ’scaped drowning to be afeard now of
your four legs; for it hath been said, ‘As proper a man	60
as ever went on four legs cannot make him give
ground’. And it shall be said so again while Stephano
breathes at’ nostrils.
CALIBAN     The spirit torments me! O!
STEPHANO     This is some monster of the isle, with four	65
legs, who hath got, as I take it, an ague. Where the devil
should he learn our language? I will give him some
relief, if it be but for that. If I can recover him and keep
him tame, and get to Naples with him, he’s a present for
any emperor that ever trod on neat’s leather.	70
CALIBAN     Do not torment me, prithee. I’ll bring my
wood home faster.
STEPHANO     He’s in his fit now and does not talk after the
wisest. He shall taste of my bottle; if he have never
drunk wine afore, it will go near to remove his fit. If I	75
can recover him and keep him tame, I will not take too
much for him! He shall pay for him that hath him, and
that soundly.
CALIBAN     Thou dost me yet but little hurt. Thou wilt
anon, I know it by thy trembling. Now Prosper works	80
upon thee.
STEPHANO     Come on your ways; open your mouth. Here
is that which will give language to you, cat. Open your
mouth! This will shake your shaking, I can tell you,
and that soundly. [Pours into Caliban’s mouth.] You	85
cannot tell who’s your friend. Open your chaps again.
TRINCULO     I should know that voice. It should be – but
he is drowned, and these are devils. O, defend me!
STEPHANO     Four legs and two voices – a most delicate
monster! His forward voice now is to speak well of his	90
friend; his backward voice is to utter foul speeches and
to detract. If all the wine in my bottle will recover him,
I will help his ague. Come. Amen! I will pour some in
thy other mouth.
TRINCULO     Stephano!	95
STEPHANO     Doth thy other mouth call me? Mercy,
mercy! This is a devil and no monster. I will leave him;
I have no long spoon.
TRINCULO     Stephano? If thou be’st Stephano, touch me
and speak to me, for I am Trinculo! Be not afeard – thy	100
good friend Trinculo.
STEPHANO     If thou be’st Trinculo, come forth. I’ll pull
thee by the lesser legs. If any be Trinculo’s legs, these
are they. [Pulls him from under the cloak.] Thou art very
Trinculo indeed! How cam’st thou to be the siege of	105
this mooncalf? Can he vent Trinculos?
TRINCULO     I took him to be killed with a thunderstroke.
But art thou not drowned, Stephano? I hope now thou
art not drowned. Is the storm overblown? I hid me
under the dead mooncalf’s gaberdine for fear of the	110
storm. And art thou living, Stephano? O Stephano,
two Neapolitans ’scaped?
STEPHANO     Prithee, do not turn me about; my stomach
is not constant.
CALIBAN
These be fine things, an if they be not sprites;	115
That’s a brave god and bears celestial liquor.
I will kneel to him.
STEPHANO     How didst thou scape? How cam’st thou
hither? Swear by this bottle how thou cam’st hither. I
escaped upon a butt of sack, which the sailors heaved	120
o’erboard – by this bottle, which I made of the bark of
a tree with mine own hands since I was cast ashore.
CALIBAN     I’ll swear upon that bottle to be thy true
subject, for the liquor is not earthly.
STEPHANO     Here, swear then how thou escaped’st.	125
TRINCULO     Swum ashore, man, like a duck. I can swim
like a duck, I’ll be sworn.
STEPHANO     Here, kiss the book. [Trinculo drinks.]
Though thou canst swim like a duck, thou art made
like a goose.	130
TRINCULO     O Stephano, hast any more of this?
STEPHANO     The whole butt, man. My cellar is in a rock
by th’ seaside, where my wine is hid. How now,
mooncalf, how does thine ague?
CALIBAN     Hast thou not dropped from heaven?	135
STEPHANO     Out o’th’ moon, I do assure thee. I was the
man i’th’ moon when time was.
CALIBAN
I have seen thee in her, and I do adore thee!
My mistress showed me thee, and thy dog and thy
bush.
STEPHANO     Come, swear to that. Kiss the book. I will	140
furnish it anon with new contents. Swear!
[Caliban drinks.]
TRINCULO     By this good light, this is a very shallow
monster. I afeard of him? A very weak monster. The
man i’th’ moon? A most poor credulous monster! Well
drawn, monster, in good sooth.	145
CALIBAN     I’ll show thee every fertile inch o’th’ island,
And I will kiss thy foot. I prithee, be my god.
TRINCULO     By this light, a most perfidious and drunken
monster; when’s god’s asleep, he’ll rob his bottle.
CALIBAN     I’ll kiss thy foot. I’ll swear myself thy subject.	150
STEPHANO     Come on, then, down and swear.
TRINCULO     I shall laugh myself to death at this puppy-
headed monster. A most scurvy monster. I could find
in my heart to beat him –
STEPHANO     Come, kiss.	155
TRINCULO     But that the poor monster’s in drink. An
abominable monster!
CALIBAN
I’ll show thee the best springs; I’ll pluck thee berries;
I’ll fish for thee, and get thee wood enough.
A plague upon the tyrant that I serve!	160
I’ll bear him no more sticks but follow thee,
Thou wondrous man.
TRINCULO     A most ridiculous monster – to make a
wonder of a poor drunkard!
CALIBAN     I prithee, let me bring thee where crabs grow,	165
And I with my long nails will dig thee pignuts,
Show thee a jay’s nest, and instruct thee how
To snare the nimble marmoset. I’ll bring thee
To clust’ring filberts, and sometimes I’ll get thee
Young scamels from the rock. Wilt thou go with me?	170
STEPHANO     I prithee, now, lead the way without any more
talking. Trinculo, the King and all our company else
being drowned, we will inherit here. Here, bear my
bottle. Fellow Trinculo, we’ll fill him by and by again.
CALIBAN     [Sings drunkenly.]
Farewell, master; farewell, farewell!	175
TRINCULO     A howling monster, a drunken monster!
CALIBAN     No more dams I’ll make for fish,
Nor fetch in firing at requiring,
Nor scrape trenchering, nor wash dish.
Ban’ ban’ Ca-caliban,	180
Has a new master, get a new man.
Freedom, high-day; high-day freedom; freedom high-
day, freedom.
STEPHANO     O brave monster, lead the way. Exeunt.