Gon. Therefore, my lord.

Alon. I pr'ythee, spare.

Gon. Well, I have done: But yet-
Seb. He will be talking.

Ant. Which of them, he, or Adrian, for a good

wager, first begins to crow!

Seb. The old cock.

Ant. The cockrel.

Seb. Done: the wager?

Ant. A laughter.

Seb. A match.

Adr. Though this island seem to be desert,

Ant. He could not miss it.

Adr. It must needs be of subtle, tender, and delicate temperance.

Ant. Temperance was a delicate wench.

Seb. Ay, and a subtle; as he most learnedly delivered.

Adr. The air breathes upon us here most sweetly.
Seb. As if it had lungs, and rotten ones.
Ant. Or, as 'twere perfumed by a fen.

Gon. Here is every thing advantageous to life.
Ant. True; save means to live.

Seb. Of that there's none, or little.

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!

your son,

Ant. The ground, indeed, is tawny.

Seb. With an eyes 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!

Adr. Widow Dido, said you? you make me study of that she was of Carthage, not of Tunis. Gon. This Tunis, sir, was Carthage. Adr. Carthage?

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. Sir, we were talking, that our garments scem now as fresh, as when we were at Tunis at the marriage of your daughter, who is now queen. Ant. And the rarest that e'er came there. Seb. 'Bate, I beseech you, widow Dido. Ant. 0, widow Dido; ay, widow Dido.

More widows in them of this business' making, Than we bring men to comfort them: The fault's Your own.

Alon. So is the dearest of the loss. Gon. 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. Seb.

Very well.

Ant. And most chirurgeonly. Gon. It is foul weather in us all, good sir, When you are cloudy.

Seb.

Ant.

Foul weather? Very foul. Gon. Had I a plantation of this isle, my lord,Ant. He'd sow it with nettle-seed. Seb. Or docks, or mallows. Gon. And were the king of it, what would I do? Seb. 'Scape being drunk for want of wine. Gon. I' the commonwealth I would by contraries Execute all things; for no kind of traffic Would I admit; no name of magistrate; Letters should not be known; no use of service, Of riches or of poverty; no contracts, Succession; bound of land, tilth, vineyard, none: No use of metal, corn, or wine, or oil: No occupation; all men idle, all; And women, too; but innocent and pure: No sovereignty: Seb. And yet he would be king on't. Ant. The latter end of his commonwealth forgets the begining.

Gon. All things in common nature should produce,

Without sweat or endeavor: 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.

Seb. No marrying 'mong his subjects?
Ant. None, man; all idle; whores and knaves.
Gon. I would with such perfection govern, sir,
To excel the golden age.

Seb.

'Save his majesty! Ant. Long live Gonzalo ! Gon. And, do you mark me, sir?Alon. Fry'thee, no more: thou dost talk nothing

to me.

Gon. I do well believe your highness; and did it

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,

Will guard your person, while you take your rest, And watch your safety.

Alon.

Thank you: wondrous heavy. [ALONSO sleeps. Exit ARIEL. Seb. What a strange drowsiness possesses them! Ant. It is the quality o' the climate. Seb. Why Doth it not then our eyelids sink? I find not Myself dispos'd to sleep.

Ant. Nor I; my spirits are nimble. They fell together all, as by consent; They dropp'd as by a thunder-stroke. What might, Worthy Sebastian-0, what might?—No more:And yet, methinks, I see it in thy face, What thou shouldst be: the occasion speaks thee;

Who's the next heir of Naples?
Seb.
Claribel.
Ant. 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' 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;
And, by that, destin'd to perform an act,
Whereof what's past is prologue; what to come,
In yours and my discharge.
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.

Ant. A space whose every cubit Seems to cry out, How shall that Claribel Measure us back to Naples ? - Keep in Tunis, And let Sebastian wake!- Say, this were death That now hath seiz'd 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
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?
Seb. Methinks I do.
Ant.
And how does your content
Tender your own good fortune?
Seb.
I remember,
You did supplant your brother Prospero.
Ant.
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-

True:

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.

Seh.
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.

Alon.

Ant. 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.
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 fur-
ther search

For my poor son.

Lead away.

Gon. Heavens keep him from these beasts! For he is, sure, i' the island. Alon. 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. Enter CALIBAN, with a burden of wood. A noise of thunder heard.

Cal. All the infections that the sun sucks up From bogs, fens, flats, on Prosper fall, and make him

By inch-meal a disease! His spirits hear me,
And yet I needs must curse. But they'll nor pinch,
Fright me with urchin shows, pitch me i' the mire,
Nor lead me, like a fire-brand, in the dark
Out of my way, unless he bid them; but
For every trifle are they set upon me:
Sometime like apes that moes and chatter at me,
And after, bite me; then like hedge-hogs, which
Lie tumbling in my bare foot-way, and mount
Their pricks at my foot-fall; 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,
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; 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 fish-like smell; a kind of, not of the newest, PoorJohn. A strange fish! Were I in England now, (as once I was,) and had but this fish painted, not a holiday-fool there but would give a piece of silver; there would this monster make a man: any strange beast there makes a man: when they will not give a doit to relieve a lame beggar, they will lay out ten to see a dead Indian. Legg'd like a man! and his fins like arms! Warm, o' my troth! I do now let loose my opinion, hold it no longer; this is no fish, but an islander, that hath lately suffer'd by a thunder-bolt. [Thunder.] Alas! the storm is coming 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 storm be past. Enter STEPHANO, singing; a bottle in his hand. Ste. I shall no more to sea, to sea, Here shall I die a-shore;

This is a very scurvy tune to sing at a man's funeral:

The master, the swabber, the boatswain, and I, The gunner, and his mate,

Lov'd Mall, Meg, and Marian, and Margery,
But none of us cared for Kate:

For she had a longue with a tang,
Would cry to a sailor, Go hang:

She lov'd not the savor of tar or of pitch,
Yet a tailor might scratch her where'er she did
itch:

Then to sea, boys, and let her go hang.

Make mouths. 1 A black jack of leather to hold beer. The frock of a peasant.

Cal. Do not torment me: O!

[Drinks.

Ste. What's the matter! Have we devils here? Do you put tricks upon us with savages, and men of Inde! Ha! I have not 'scap'd drowning, to be afeard now of your four legs; for it hath been said, As proper a man as ever went on four legs, cannot make him give ground: and it shall be said so again, while Stephano breathes at nostrils. Cal. The spirit torments me: ()!

Ste. This is some monster of the isle with four 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.

Cal. Do not torment me, pr'ythee; I'll bring my wood home faster.

Ste. 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 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.

Cal. Thou dost me yet but little hurt; thou wilt Anon, I know it by thy trembling: Now Prosper works upon thee.

Ste. Come on your ways: open your mouth; here is that which will give language to yon, cat; open your mouth: this will shake your shaking, can tell you, and that soundly you cannot tell who's your friend: open your chaps again.

Trin. I should know that voice: It should be But he is drowned; and these are devils: O! defend me!

Ste. Four legs, and two voices; a most delicate monster! His forward voice now is to speak well of his 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. Trin. Stephano!.

Ste. Doth thy other mouth call me? Mercy! mercy! this is a devil, and no monster! I will leave him; I have no long spoon.

Trin. Stephano!-- if thou beest Stephano, touch me, and speak to me; for I am Trinculo; - be not afeard, thy good friend Trinculo.

Ste. If thou beest Trineulo, come forth; I'll pull thee by the lesser legs: if any be Trinculo's legs, these are they. Thou art very Trinculo, indeed, How cam'st thou to be the siege of this moon-calf? Can he vent Trinculos?

Trin. 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 moon-calf's gaberdine, for fear of the storm: and art thou living, Stephano? O Stephano, two Neapolitans 'scaped!

Sie. Prythee, do not turn me about; my stomach is not constant.

Cal. These be fine things, an if they be not sprites. That's a brave god, and bears celestial liquor: I will kneel to him.

Ste. How didst thou 'scape? how cam'st thou hither 1 swear by this bottle, how thou cam st hither. I escaped upon a butt of sack, which the sailors heaved overboard, by this bottle! which I made of the bark of a tree, with mine own hands, since I was cast ashore.

Cal. I'll swear, upon that bottle, to be thy True subject; for the liquor is not earthly. Ste. Here; swear then how thou escap'dst. Trin. Swam a-shore, man, like a duck; I can swim like a duck, I'll be sworn.

Ste. Here, kiss the book: Though thou canst swim like a duck, thou art made like a goose. Trin. O Stephano, hast any more of this! Ste. The whole butt, man; my cellar is in a rock by the sea-side, where my wine is hid. How now, moon-calf! how does thine ague ?

Cal. Hast thou not dropped from heaven? Ste. Out o' the moon, I do assure thee: I was the man in the moon, when time was. • Stool.

• India.

Cal. I have seen thee in her, and I do adore thee; My mistress showed me thee, thy dog and bush. Ste. Come, swear to that; kiss the book: I will furnish it anon with new contents: swear.

Trin. By this good light, this is a very shallow monster:-I afeard of him?-a very weak monster: The man i' the moon?-a most poor credulous monster:- Well drawn, monster, in good sooth.

Cal. I'll show thee every fertile inch o' the island; And kiss thy foot: I pr'ythee, be my god..

Trin. By this light, a most perfidious and drunkén monster; when his god's asleep, he'll rob his bottle.

Cal. I'll kiss thy foot; I'll swear myself thy subject.

Ste. Come on, then; down and swear.

Trin. I shall laugh myself to death at this puppyheaded monster: A most scurvy monster! I could find in my heart to beat him,

Ste. Come, kiss.

Trin. but that the poor monster's in drink. An abominable monster!

Cal. 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!

I'll bear him no more sticks, but follow thee, Thou wondrous man.

Trin. A most ridiculous monster! to make a wonder of a poor drunkard.

Cal. I pr'ythee, let me bring thee where crabs grow;

And I with my long nails will dig thee pig-nuts;
Show thee a jay's nest, and instruct thee how
To snare the nimble marmozet; I'll bring thee
To clust ring filberds, and sometimes I'll get thee
Young sea-mells from the rock: Wilt thou go
with me?

Ste. I pr'ythee 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.

Cal. Farewell, master; farewell, farewell.
[Sings drunkenly.
Trin. A howling monster; a drunken monster.
Cal. No more dams I'll make for fish;
Nor fetch in firing

At requiring,

Nor scrape trenching, nor wash dish,
'Ban Ban, Ca - Caliban

Has a new master-Get a new man.

Freedom, hey-day! hey-day, freedom! freedom, hey-day, freedom!

Ste. O brave monster! lead the way.

[Exeunt.

Delight in them sets off; some kinds of baseness
Are nobly undergone; and most poor matters
Point to rich ends. This my mean task would be
As heavy to me, as 'tis odious; but
The mistress, which I serve, quickens what's dead,
And makes my labors pleasures: O, she is
Ten times more gentle than her father's crabbed;
And he's composed of harshness. I must remove
Some thousands of these logs, and pile them up,
Upon a sore injunction: My sweet mistress
Weeps when she sees me work; and says, such

baseness

Had ne'er like executor. I forget:

Mira.

Miranda:-O my father,

I have broke your hests to say so!
Fer.
Admir'd Miranda!
Indeed, the top of admiration; worth
What's dearest to the world! Full many a lady
I have ey'd with best regard; and many a time
The harmony of their tongues hath into bondage
Brought my too diligent ear: for several virtues
Have I lik'd several women; never any
With so full soul, but some defect in her
Did quarrel with the noblest grace she ow'd1,
And put it to the foil: But you, () you,
So perfect, and so peerless, are created
Of every creature's best.
Mira.

I do not know

Enter MIRANDA; and PROSPERO at a distance.

Mira. Alas, now! pray you Work not so hard: I would the lightning had Burnt up those logs, that you are enjoin'd to pile! Pray set it down, and rest you: when this burns, "Twill weep for having wearied you: My father Is hard at study; pray now rest yourself; He's safe for these three hours.

Fer. O most dear mistress, The sun will set, before I shall discharge What I must strive to do.

I am skill-less of; but, by my modesty,
(The jewel in my dower,) I would not wish
Any companion in the world but you;
Nor can imagination form a shape,
Besides yourself, to like of; but I prattle
Something too wildly, and my father's precepts
Therein forget.

Fer.

I am, in my condition, A prince, Miranda; I do think, a king; (I would, not so!) and would no more endure This wooden slavery, than I would suffer The flesh-fly blow my mouth. Hear my soul speak;

The very instant that I saw you, did

My heart fly to your service; there resides, To make me slave to it; and, for your sake, Am I this patient log-man.

Mira.

Do you love me?

Fer. O heaven, O earth, bear witness to this sound,

And crown what I profess with kind event,
If I speak true! if hollowly, invert
What best is boded me, to mischief! 1,
Beyond all limit of what else i' the world,
Do love, prize, honor you.
Mira.

I am a fool,
To weep at what I am glad of.
Pro.

Fair encounter
Of two most rare affections! Heavens rain grace
On that which breeds between them!
Fer.