SCENE I. Before Prospero’s cell.
Enter Prospero, Ferdinand and Miranda.
PROSPERO.
If I have too austerely punish’d you,
Your compensation makes amends: for I
Have given you here a third of mine own life,
Or that for which I live; who once again
I tender to thy hand: all thy vexations
Were but my trials of thy love, and thou
Hast strangely stood the test: here, afore Heaven,
I ratify this my rich gift. O Ferdinand,
Do not smile at me that I boast her off,
For thou shalt find she will outstrip all praise,
And make it halt behind her.
FERDINAND.
I do believe it
Against an oracle.
PROSPERO.
Then, as my gift and thine own acquisition
Worthily purchas’d, take my daughter: but
If thou dost break her virgin knot before
All sanctimonious ceremonies may
With full and holy rite be minister’d,
No sweet aspersion shall the heavens let fall
To make this contract grow; but barren hate,
Sour-ey’d disdain, and discord shall bestrew
The union of your bed with weeds so loathly
That you shall hate it both: therefore take heed,
As Hymen’s lamps shall light you.
FERDINAND.
As I hope
For quiet days, fair issue, and long life,
With such love as ’tis now, the murkiest den,
The most opportune place, the strong’st suggestion
Our worser genius can, shall never melt
Mine honour into lust, to take away
The edge of that day’s celebration,
When I shall think, or Phoebus’ steeds are founder’d,
Or Night kept chain’d below.
PROSPERO.
Fairly spoke:
Sit, then, and talk with her, she is thine own.
What, Ariel! my industrious servant, Ariel!
Enter Ariel.
ARIEL.
What would my potent master? here I am.
PROSPERO.
Thou and thy meaner fellows your last service
Did worthily perform; and I must use you
In such another trick. Go bring the rabble,
O’er whom I give thee power, here to this place.
Incite them to quick motion; for I must
Bestow upon the eyes of this young couple
Some vanity of mine art: it is my promise,
And they expect it from me.
ARIEL.
Presently?
PROSPERO.
Ay, with a twink.
ARIEL.
Before you can say “Come” and “Go,”
And breathe twice, and cry “so, so,”
Each one, tripping on his toe,
Will be here with mop and mow.
Do you love me, master? no?
PROSPERO.
Dearly, my delicate Ariel. Do not approach
Till thou dost hear me call.
ARIEL.
Well, I conceive.
[_Exit._]
PROSPERO.
Look thou be true; do not give dalliance
Too much the rein: the strongest oaths are straw
To th’ fire i’ the blood: be more abstemious,
Or else good night your vow!
FERDINAND.
I warrant you, sir;
The white cold virgin snow upon my heart
Abates the ardour of my liver.
PROSPERO.
Well.
Now come, my Ariel! bring a corollary,
Rather than want a spirit: appear, and pertly.
No tongue! all eyes! be silent.
[_Soft music._]
A Masque. Enter Iris.
IRIS.
Ceres, most bounteous lady, thy rich leas
Of wheat, rye, barley, vetches, oats, and peas;
Thy turfy mountains, where live nibbling sheep,
And flat meads thatch’d with stover, them to keep;
Thy banks with pioned and twilled brims,
Which spongy April at thy hest betrims,
To make cold nymphs chaste crowns; and thy broom groves,
Whose shadow the dismissed bachelor loves,
Being lass-lorn; thy pole-clipt vineyard;
And thy sea-marge, sterile and rocky-hard,
Where thou thyself dost air: the Queen o’ th’ sky,
Whose wat’ry arch and messenger am I,
Bids thee leave these; and with her sovereign grace,
Here on this grass-plot, in this very place,
To come and sport; her peacocks fly amain:
Approach, rich Ceres, her to entertain.
Enter Ceres.
CERES.
Hail, many-colour’d messenger, that ne’er
Dost disobey the wife of Jupiter;
Who with thy saffron wings upon my flowers
Diffusest honey drops, refreshing showers;
And with each end of thy blue bow dost crown
My bosky acres and my unshrubb’d down,
Rich scarf to my proud earth; why hath thy queen
Summon’d me hither to this short-grass’d green?
IRIS.
A contract of true love to celebrate,
And some donation freely to estate
On the blest lovers.
CERES.
Tell me, heavenly bow,
If Venus or her son, as thou dost know,
Do now attend the queen? Since they did plot
The means that dusky Dis my daughter got,
Her and her blind boy’s scandal’d company
I have forsworn.
IRIS.
Of her society
Be not afraid. I met her deity
Cutting the clouds towards Paphos, and her son
Dove-drawn with her. Here thought they to have done
Some wanton charm upon this man and maid,
Whose vows are, that no bed-right shall be paid
Till Hymen’s torch be lighted; but in vain.
Mars’s hot minion is return’d again;
Her waspish-headed son has broke his arrows,
Swears he will shoot no more, but play with sparrows,
And be a boy right out.
CERES.
Highest queen of State,
Great Juno comes; I know her by her gait.
Enter Juno.
JUNO.
How does my bounteous sister? Go with me
To bless this twain, that they may prosperous be,
And honour’d in their issue.
[_They sing._]
JUNO.
_Honour, riches, marriage-blessing,
Long continuance, and increasing,
Hourly joys be still upon you!
Juno sings her blessings on you._
CERES.
_Earth’s increase, foison plenty,
Barns and garners never empty;
Vines with clust’ring bunches growing;
Plants with goodly burden bowing;
Spring come to you at the farthest
In the very end of harvest!
Scarcity and want shall shun you;
Ceres’ blessing so is on you._
FERDINAND.
This is a most majestic vision, and
Harmonious charmingly. May I be bold
To think these spirits?
PROSPERO.
Spirits, which by mine art
I have from their confines call’d to enact
My present fancies.
FERDINAND.
Let me live here ever.
So rare a wonder’d father and a wise,
Makes this place Paradise.
[_Juno and Ceres whisper, and send Iris on employment._]
PROSPERO.
Sweet now, silence!
Juno and Ceres whisper seriously,
There’s something else to do: hush, and be mute,
Or else our spell is marr’d.
IRIS.
You nymphs, call’d Naiads, of the windring brooks,
With your sedg’d crowns and ever-harmless looks,
Leave your crisp channels, and on this green land
Answer your summons; Juno does command.
Come, temperate nymphs, and help to celebrate
A contract of true love. Be not too late.
Enter certain Nymphs.
You sun-burn’d sicklemen, of August weary,
Come hither from the furrow, and be merry:
Make holiday: your rye-straw hats put on,
And these fresh nymphs encounter every one
In country footing.
Enter certain Reapers, properly habited: they join with the Nymphs in
a graceful dance; towards the end whereof Prospero starts suddenly,
and speaks; after which, to a strange, hollow, and confused noise,
they heavily vanish.
PROSPERO.
[_Aside._] I had forgot that foul conspiracy
Of the beast Caliban and his confederates
Against my life: the minute of their plot
Is almost come. [_To the Spirits._] Well done! avoid; no
more!
FERDINAND.
This is strange: your father’s in some passion
That works him strongly.
MIRANDA.
Never till this day
Saw I him touch’d with anger so distemper’d.
PROSPERO.
You do look, my son, in a mov’d sort,
As if you were dismay’d: be cheerful, sir:
Our revels now are ended. These our actors,
As I foretold you, were all spirits and
Are melted into air, into thin air:
And, like the baseless fabric of this vision,
The cloud-capp’d towers, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve,
And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,
Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff
As dreams are made on, and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep. Sir, I am vex’d:
Bear with my weakness; my old brain is troubled.
Be not disturb’d with my infirmity.
If you be pleas’d, retire into my cell
And there repose: a turn or two I’ll walk,
To still my beating mind.
FERDINAND, MIRANDA.
We wish your peace.
[_Exeunt._]
PROSPERO.
Come, with a thought. I thank thee, Ariel. Come!
Enter Ariel.
ARIEL.
Thy thoughts I cleave to. What’s thy pleasure?
PROSPERO.
Spirit,
We must prepare to meet with Caliban.
ARIEL.
Ay, my commander. When I presented Ceres,
I thought to have told thee of it; but I fear’d
Lest I might anger thee.
PROSPERO.
Say again, where didst thou leave these varlets?
ARIEL.
I told you, sir, they were red-hot with drinking;
So full of valour that they smote the air
For breathing in their faces; beat the ground
For kissing of their feet; yet always bending
Towards their project. Then I beat my tabor;
At which, like unback’d colts, they prick’d their ears,
Advanc’d their eyelids, lifted up their noses
As they smelt music: so I charm’d their ears,
That calf-like they my lowing follow’d through
Tooth’d briers, sharp furzes, pricking goss, and thorns,
Which enter’d their frail shins: at last I left them
I’ th’ filthy-mantled pool beyond your cell,
There dancing up to th’ chins, that the foul lake
O’erstunk their feet.
PROSPERO.
This was well done, my bird.
Thy shape invisible retain thou still:
The trumpery in my house, go bring it hither
For stale to catch these thieves.
ARIEL.
I go, I go.
[_Exit._]
PROSPERO.
A devil, a born devil, on whose nature
Nurture can never stick; on whom my pains,
Humanely taken, all, all lost, quite lost;
And as with age his body uglier grows,
So his mind cankers. I will plague them all,
Even to roaring.
Re-enter Ariel, loaden with glistering apparel, &c.
Come, hang them on this line.
Prospero and Ariel remain invisible. Enter Caliban, Stephano and
Trinculo all wet.
CALIBAN.
Pray you, tread softly, that the blind mole may not
Hear a foot fall: we now are near his cell.
STEPHANO.
Monster, your fairy, which you say is a harmless fairy, has done little
better than played the Jack with us.
TRINCULO.
Monster, I do smell all horse-piss; at which my nose is in great
indignation.
STEPHANO.
So is mine. Do you hear, monster? If I should take a displeasure
against you, look you,—
TRINCULO.
Thou wert but a lost monster.
CALIBAN.
Good my lord, give me thy favour still.
Be patient, for the prize I’ll bring thee to
Shall hoodwink this mischance: therefore speak softly.
All’s hush’d as midnight yet.
TRINCULO.
Ay, but to lose our bottles in the pool!
STEPHANO.
There is not only disgrace and dishonour in that, monster, but an
infinite loss.
TRINCULO.
That’s more to me than my wetting: yet this is your harmless fairy,
monster.
STEPHANO.
I will fetch off my bottle, though I be o’er ears for my labour.
CALIBAN.
Prithee, my King, be quiet. Seest thou here,
This is the mouth o’ th’ cell: no noise, and enter.
Do that good mischief which may make this island
Thine own for ever, and I, thy Caliban,
For aye thy foot-licker.
STEPHANO.
Give me thy hand. I do begin to have bloody thoughts.
TRINCULO.
O King Stephano! O peer! O worthy Stephano!
Look what a wardrobe here is for thee!
CALIBAN.
Let it alone, thou fool; it is but trash.
TRINCULO.
O, ho, monster! we know what belongs to a frippery. O King Stephano!
STEPHANO.
Put off that gown, Trinculo; by this hand, I’ll have that gown.
TRINCULO.
Thy Grace shall have it.
CALIBAN.
The dropsy drown this fool! What do you mean
To dote thus on such luggage? Let’t alone,
And do the murder first. If he awake,
From toe to crown he’ll fill our skins with pinches,
Make us strange stuff.
STEPHANO.
Be you quiet, monster. Mistress line, is not this my jerkin? Now is the
jerkin under the line: now, jerkin, you are like to lose your hair, and
prove a bald jerkin.
TRINCULO.
Do, do: we steal by line and level, an’t like your Grace.
STEPHANO.
I thank thee for that jest. Here’s a garment for ’t: wit shall not go
unrewarded while I am King of this country. “Steal by line and level,”
is an excellent pass of pate. There’s another garment for ’t.
TRINCULO.
Monster, come, put some lime upon your fingers, and away with the rest.
CALIBAN.
I will have none on’t. We shall lose our time,
And all be turn’d to barnacles, or to apes
With foreheads villainous low.
STEPHANO.
Monster, lay-to your fingers: help to bear this away where my hogshead
of wine is, or I’ll turn you out of my kingdom. Go to, carry this.
TRINCULO.
And this.
STEPHANO.
Ay, and this.
A noise of hunters heard. Enter divers Spirits, in shape of dogs and
hounds, and hunt them about; Prospero and Ariel setting them on.
PROSPERO.
Hey, Mountain, hey!
ARIEL.
Silver! there it goes, Silver!
PROSPERO.
Fury, Fury! There, Tyrant, there! hark, hark!
[_Caliban, Stephano and Trinculo are driven out._]
Go, charge my goblins that they grind their joints
With dry convulsions; shorten up their sinews
With aged cramps, and more pinch-spotted make them
Than pard, or cat o’ mountain.
ARIEL.
Hark, they roar.
PROSPERO.
Let them be hunted soundly. At this hour
Lies at my mercy all mine enemies.
Shortly shall all my labours end, and thou
Shalt have the air at freedom. For a little
Follow, and do me service.
[_Exeunt._]
ACT V
SCENE I. Before the cell of Prospero.
Enter Prospero in his magic robes, and Ariel.
PROSPERO.
Now does my project gather to a head:
My charms crack not; my spirits obey, and time
Goes upright with his carriage. How’s the day?
ARIEL.
On the sixth hour; at which time, my lord,
You said our work should cease.
PROSPERO.
I did say so,
When first I rais’d the tempest. Say, my spirit,
How fares the King and ’s followers?
ARIEL.
Confin’d together
In the same fashion as you gave in charge,
Just as you left them; all prisoners, sir,
In the line grove which weather-fends your cell;
They cannot budge till your release. The King,
His brother, and yours, abide all three distracted,
And the remainder mourning over them,
Brimful of sorrow and dismay; but chiefly
Him you term’d, sir, “the good old lord, Gonzalo”.
His tears run down his beard, like winter’s drops
From eaves of reeds; your charm so strongly works ’em,
That if you now beheld them, your affections
Would become tender.
PROSPERO.
Dost thou think so, spirit?
ARIEL.
Mine would, sir, were I human.
PROSPERO.
And mine shall.
Hast thou, which art but air, a touch, a feeling
Of their afflictions, and shall not myself,
One of their kind, that relish all as sharply
Passion as they, be kindlier mov’d than thou art?
Though with their high wrongs I am struck to th’ quick,
Yet with my nobler reason ’gainst my fury
Do I take part: the rarer action is
In virtue than in vengeance: they being penitent,
The sole drift of my purpose doth extend
Not a frown further. Go release them, Ariel.
My charms I’ll break, their senses I’ll restore,
And they shall be themselves.
ARIEL.
I’ll fetch them, sir.
[_Exit._]
PROSPERO.
Ye elves of hills, brooks, standing lakes, and
groves;
And ye that on the sands with printless foot
Do chase the ebbing Neptune, and do fly him
When he comes back; you demi-puppets that
By moonshine do the green sour ringlets make,
Whereof the ewe not bites; and you whose pastime
Is to make midnight mushrooms, that rejoice
To hear the solemn curfew; by whose aid,
Weak masters though ye be, I have bedimm’d
The noontide sun, call’d forth the mutinous winds,
And ’twixt the green sea and the azur’d vault
Set roaring war: to the dread rattling thunder
Have I given fire, and rifted Jove’s stout oak
With his own bolt; the strong-bas’d promontory
Have I made shake, and by the spurs pluck’d up
The pine and cedar: graves at my command
Have wak’d their sleepers, op’d, and let ’em forth
By my so potent art. But this rough magic
I here abjure; and, when I have requir’d
Some heavenly music,—which even now I do,—
To work mine end upon their senses that
This airy charm is for, I’ll break my staff,
Bury it certain fathoms in the earth,
And deeper than did ever plummet sound
I’ll drown my book.
[_Solemn music._]
Re-enter Ariel: after him, Alonso with a frantic gesture, attended by
Gonzalo, Sebastian and Antonio in like manner, attended by Adrian and
Francisco: they all enter the circle which Prospero had made, and
there stand charmed; which Prospero observing, speaks.
A solemn air, and the best comforter
To an unsettled fancy, cure thy brains,
Now useless, boil’d within thy skull! There stand,
For you are spell-stopp’d.
Holy Gonzalo, honourable man,
Mine eyes, e’en sociable to the show of thine,
Fall fellowly drops. The charm dissolves apace;
And as the morning steals upon the night,
Melting the darkness, so their rising senses
Begin to chase the ignorant fumes that mantle
Their clearer reason. O good Gonzalo!
My true preserver, and a loyal sir
To him thou follow’st, I will pay thy graces
Home, both in word and deed. Most cruelly
Didst thou, Alonso, use me and my daughter:
Thy brother was a furtherer in the act.
Thou art pinch’d for ’t now, Sebastian. Flesh and blood,
You, brother mine, that entertain’d ambition,
Expell’d remorse and nature, who, with Sebastian,—
Whose inward pinches therefore are most strong,
Would here have kill’d your King; I do forgive thee,
Unnatural though thou art. Their understanding
Begins to swell, and the approaching tide
Will shortly fill the reasonable shores
That now lie foul and muddy. Not one of them
That yet looks on me, or would know me. Ariel,
Fetch me the hat and rapier in my cell.
[_Exit Ariel._]
I will discase me, and myself present
As I was sometime Milan. Quickly, spirit;
Thou shalt ere long be free.
Ariel re-enters, singing, and helps to attire Prospero.
ARIEL
_Where the bee sucks, there suck I:
In a cowslip’s bell I lie;
There I couch when owls do cry.
On the bat’s back I do fly
After summer merrily.
Merrily, merrily shall I live now
Under the blossom that hangs on the bough._
PROSPERO.
Why, that’s my dainty Ariel! I shall miss thee;
But yet thou shalt have freedom; so, so, so.
To the King’s ship, invisible as thou art:
There shalt thou find the mariners asleep
Under the hatches; the master and the boatswain
Being awake, enforce them to this place,
And presently, I prithee.
ARIEL.
I drink the air before me, and return
Or ere your pulse twice beat.
[_Exit._]
GONZALO.
All torment, trouble, wonder and amazement
Inhabits here. Some heavenly power guide us
Out of this fearful country!
PROSPERO.
Behold, sir King,
The wronged Duke of Milan, Prospero.
For more assurance that a living prince
Does now speak to thee, I embrace thy body;
And to thee and thy company I bid
A hearty welcome.
ALONSO.
Whe’er thou be’st he or no,
Or some enchanted trifle to abuse me,
As late I have been, I not know: thy pulse
Beats, as of flesh and blood; and, since I saw thee,
Th’ affliction of my mind amends, with which,
I fear, a madness held me: this must crave,
An if this be at all, a most strange story.
Thy dukedom I resign, and do entreat
Thou pardon me my wrongs. But how should Prospero
Be living and be here?
PROSPERO.
First, noble friend,
Let me embrace thine age, whose honour cannot
Be measur’d or confin’d.
GONZALO.
Whether this be
Or be not, I’ll not swear.
PROSPERO.
You do yet taste
Some subtleties o’ the isle, that will not let you
Believe things certain. Welcome, my friends all.
[_Aside to Sebastian and Antonio._] But you, my brace of lords, were I
so minded,
I here could pluck his highness’ frown upon you,
And justify you traitors: at this time
I will tell no tales.
SEBASTIAN.
[_Aside._] The devil speaks in him.
PROSPERO.
No.
For you, most wicked sir, whom to call brother
Would even infect my mouth, I do forgive
Thy rankest fault, all of them; and require
My dukedom of thee, which perforce I know
Thou must restore.
ALONSO.
If thou beest Prospero,
Give us particulars of thy preservation;
How thou hast met us here, whom three hours since
Were wrack’d upon this shore; where I have lost,—
How sharp the point of this remembrance is!—
My dear son Ferdinand.
PROSPERO.
I am woe for ’t, sir.
ALONSO.
Irreparable is the loss, and patience
Says it is past her cure.
PROSPERO.
I rather think
You have not sought her help, of whose soft grace,
For the like loss I have her sovereign aid,
And rest myself content.
ALONSO.
You the like loss!
PROSPERO.
As great to me, as late; and, supportable
To make the dear loss, have I means much weaker
Than you may call to comfort you, for I
Have lost my daughter.
ALONSO.
A daughter?
O heavens, that they were living both in Naples,
The King and Queen there! That they were, I wish
Myself were mudded in that oozy bed
Where my son lies. When did you lose your daughter?
PROSPERO.
In this last tempest. I perceive, these lords
At this encounter do so much admire
That they devour their reason, and scarce think
Their eyes do offices of truth, their words
Are natural breath; but, howsoe’er you have
Been justled from your senses, know for certain
That I am Prospero, and that very duke
Which was thrust forth of Milan; who most strangely
Upon this shore, where you were wrack’d, was landed
To be the lord on’t. No more yet of this;
For ’tis a chronicle of day by day,
Not a relation for a breakfast nor
Befitting this first meeting. Welcome, sir.
This cell’s my court: here have I few attendants,
And subjects none abroad: pray you, look in.
My dukedom since you have given me again,
I will requite you with as good a thing;
At least bring forth a wonder, to content ye
As much as me my dukedom.
Here Prospero discovers Ferdinand and Miranda playing at chess.
MIRANDA.
Sweet lord, you play me false.
FERDINAND.
No, my dearest love,
I would not for the world.
MIRANDA.
Yes, for a score of kingdoms you should wrangle,
And I would call it fair play.
ALONSO.
If this prove
A vision of the island, one dear son
Shall I twice lose.
SEBASTIAN.
A most high miracle!
FERDINAND.
Though the seas threaten, they are merciful.
I have curs’d them without cause.
[_Kneels to Alonso._]
ALONSO.
Now all the blessings
Of a glad father compass thee about!
Arise, and say how thou cam’st here.
MIRANDA.
O, wonder!
How many goodly creatures are there here!
How beauteous mankind is! O brave new world
That has such people in ’t!
PROSPERO.
’Tis new to thee.
ALONSO.
What is this maid, with whom thou wast at play?
Your eld’st acquaintance cannot be three hours:
Is she the goddess that hath sever’d us,
And brought us thus together?
FERDINAND.
Sir, she is mortal;
But by immortal Providence she’s mine.
I chose her when I could not ask my father
For his advice, nor thought I had one. She
Is daughter to this famous Duke of Milan,
Of whom so often I have heard renown,
But never saw before; of whom I have
Receiv’d a second life; and second father
This lady makes him to me.
ALONSO.
I am hers:
But, O, how oddly will it sound that I
Must ask my child forgiveness!
PROSPERO.
There, sir, stop:
Let us not burden our remembrances with
A heaviness that’s gone.
GONZALO.
I have inly wept,
Or should have spoke ere this. Look down, you gods,
And on this couple drop a blessed crown;
For it is you that have chalk’d forth the way
Which brought us hither.
ALONSO.
I say, Amen, Gonzalo!
GONZALO.
Was Milan thrust from Milan, that his issue
Should become Kings of Naples? O, rejoice
Beyond a common joy, and set it down
With gold on lasting pillars: in one voyage
Did Claribel her husband find at Tunis,
And Ferdinand, her brother, found a wife
Where he himself was lost; Prospero his dukedom
In a poor isle; and all of us ourselves,
When no man was his own.
ALONSO.
[_To Ferdinand and Miranda._] Give me your hands:
Let grief and sorrow still embrace his heart
That doth not wish you joy!
GONZALO.
Be it so. Amen!
Re-enter Ariel with the Master and Boatswain amazedly following.
O look, sir, look, sir! Here are more of us.
I prophesied, if a gallows were on land,
This fellow could not drown. Now, blasphemy,
That swear’st grace o’erboard, not an oath on shore?
Hast thou no mouth by land? What is the news?
BOATSWAIN.
The best news is that we have safely found
Our King and company. The next, our ship,—
Which but three glasses since, we gave out split,
Is tight and yare, and bravely rigg’d as when
We first put out to sea.
ARIEL.
[_Aside to Prospero._] Sir, all this service
Have I done since I went.
PROSPERO.
[_Aside to Ariel._] My tricksy spirit!
ALONSO.
These are not natural events; they strengthen
From strange to stranger. Say, how came you hither?
BOATSWAIN.
If I did think, sir, I were well awake,
I’d strive to tell you. We were dead of sleep,
And,—how, we know not,—all clapp’d under hatches,
Where, but even now, with strange and several noises
Of roaring, shrieking, howling, jingling chains,
And mo diversity of sounds, all horrible,
We were awak’d; straightway, at liberty:
Where we, in all her trim, freshly beheld
Our royal, good, and gallant ship; our master
Cap’ring to eye her. On a trice, so please you,
Even in a dream, were we divided from them,
And were brought moping hither.
ARIEL.
[_Aside to Prospero._] Was’t well done?
PROSPERO.
[_Aside to Ariel._] Bravely, my diligence. Thou shalt be free.
ALONSO.
This is as strange a maze as e’er men trod;
And there is in this business more than nature
Was ever conduct of: some oracle
Must rectify our knowledge.
PROSPERO.
Sir, my liege,
Do not infest your mind with beating on
The strangeness of this business. At pick’d leisure,
Which shall be shortly, single I’ll resolve you,
Which to you shall seem probable, of every
These happen’d accidents; till when, be cheerful
And think of each thing well. [_Aside to Ariel._] Come hither, spirit;
Set Caliban and his companions free;
Untie the spell.
[_Exit Ariel._]
How fares my gracious sir?
There are yet missing of your company
Some few odd lads that you remember not.
Re-enter Ariel driving in Caliban, Stephano and Trinculo in their
stolen apparel.
STEPHANO.
Every man shift for all the rest, and let no man take care for himself,
for all is but fortune.—Coragio! bully-monster, coragio!
TRINCULO.
If these be true spies which I wear in my head, here’s a goodly sight.
CALIBAN.
O Setebos, these be brave spirits indeed.
How fine my master is! I am afraid
He will chastise me.
SEBASTIAN.
Ha, ha!
What things are these, my lord Antonio?
Will money buy them?
ANTONIO.
Very like; one of them
Is a plain fish, and, no doubt, marketable.
PROSPERO.
Mark but the badges of these men, my lords,
Then say if they be true. This mis-shapen knave,
His mother was a witch; and one so strong
That could control the moon, make flows and ebbs,
And deal in her command without her power.
These three have robb’d me; and this demi-devil,
For he’s a bastard one, had plotted with them
To take my life. Two of these fellows you
Must know and own; this thing of darkness I
Acknowledge mine.
CALIBAN.
I shall be pinch’d to death.
ALONSO.
Is not this Stephano, my drunken butler?
SEBASTIAN.
He is drunk now: where had he wine?
ALONSO.
And Trinculo is reeling-ripe: where should they
Find this grand liquor that hath gilded ’em?
How cam’st thou in this pickle?
TRINCULO.
I have been in such a pickle since I saw you last that, I fear me, will
never out of my bones. I shall not fear fly-blowing.
SEBASTIAN.
Why, how now, Stephano!
STEPHANO.
O! touch me not. I am not Stephano, but a cramp.
PROSPERO.
You’d be King o’ the isle, sirrah?
STEPHANO.
I should have been a sore one, then.
ALONSO.
This is as strange a thing as e’er I look’d on.
[_Pointing to Caliban._]
PROSPERO.
He is as disproportioned in his manners
As in his shape. Go, sirrah, to my cell;
Take with you your companions. As you look
To have my pardon, trim it handsomely.
CALIBAN.
Ay, that I will; and I’ll be wise hereafter,
And seek for grace. What a thrice-double ass
Was I, to take this drunkard for a god,
And worship this dull fool!
PROSPERO.
Go to; away!
ALONSO.
Hence, and bestow your luggage where you found it.
SEBASTIAN.
Or stole it, rather.
[_Exeunt Caliban, Stephano and Trinculo._]
PROSPERO.
Sir, I invite your Highness and your train
To my poor cell, where you shall take your rest
For this one night; which, part of it, I’ll waste
With such discourse as, I not doubt, shall make it
Go quick away: the story of my life
And the particular accidents gone by
Since I came to this isle: and in the morn
I’ll bring you to your ship, and so to Naples,
Where I have hope to see the nuptial
Of these our dear-belov’d solemnized;
And thence retire me to my Milan, where
Every third thought shall be my grave.
ALONSO.
I long
To hear the story of your life, which must
Take the ear strangely.
PROSPERO.
I’ll deliver all;
And promise you calm seas, auspicious gales,
And sail so expeditious that shall catch
Your royal fleet far off. [_Aside to Ariel._] My Ariel,
chick,
That is thy charge: then to the elements
Be free, and fare thou well! Please you, draw near.
[_Exeunt._]
EPILOGUE
PROSPERO.
Now my charms are all o’erthrown,
And what strength I have’s mine own,
Which is most faint. Now ’tis true,
I must be here confin’d by you,
Or sent to Naples. Let me not,
Since I have my dukedom got,
And pardon’d the deceiver, dwell
In this bare island by your spell,
But release me from my bands
With the help of your good hands.
Gentle breath of yours my sails
Must fill, or else my project fails,
Which was to please. Now I want
Spirits to enforce, art to enchant;
And my ending is despair,
Unless I be reliev’d by prayer,
Which pierces so that it assaults
Mercy itself, and frees all faults.
As you from crimes would pardon’d be,
Let your indulgence set me free.
[_Exit._]