The Tempest

Select or Print the text

Original text
Act II, Scene I
Enter Alonso, Sebastian, Anthonio, Gonzalo, Adrian,
Francisco, and others

Gonz.
Beseech you Sir, be merry; you haue cause,
(So haue we all) of ioy; for our escape
Is much beyond our losse; our hint of woe
Is common, euery day, some Saylors wife,
The Masters of some Merchant, and the Merchant
Haue iust our Theame of woe: But for the miracle,
(I meane our preseruation) few in millions
Can speake like vs: then wisely (good Sir) weigh
Our sorrow, with our comfort.

Alons.
Prethee peace.

Seb.
He receiues comfort like
cold porredge.

Ant.

The Visitor will not giue
him ore so.

Seb.
Looke, hee's winding vp the
watch of his wit, / By and by it will strike.

Gon.
Sir.

Seb.
One: Tell.

Gon.
When euery greefe is entertaind, / That's offer'd
comes to th' entertainer.

Seb.
A dollor.

Gon.
Dolour comes to him indeed, you haue spoken
truer then you purpos'd.

Seb.
You haue taken it wiselier then I meant you
should.

Gon.
Therefore my Lord.

Ant.
Fie, what a spend-thrift is he of his tongue.

Alon.
I pre-thee spare.

Gon.
Well, I haue done: But yet

Seb.
He will be talking.

Ant.
Which, of he, or Adrian, for a good wager,
First begins to crow?

Seb.
The old Cocke.

Ant.
The Cockrell.

Seb.
Done: The wager?

Ant.
A Laughter.

Seb.
A match.

Adr.
Though this Island seeme to be desert.

Seb.
Ha, ha, ha.

Ant.
So: you'r paid.

Adr.
Vninhabitable, and almost inaccessible.

Seb.
Yet

Adr.
Yet

Ant.
He could not misse't.

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

Ant.
Temperance was a delicate wench.

Seb.
I, and a subtle, as he most learnedly
deliuer'd.

Adr.
The ayre breathes vpon vs here most sweetly.

Seb.
As if it had Lungs, and rotten ones.

Ant.
Or, as 'twere perfum'd by a Fen.

Gon.
Heere is euery thing aduantageous to life.

Ant.
True, saue meanes to liue.

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

Gon.
How lush and lusty the grasse lookes? How
greene?

Ant.
The ground indeed is tawny.

Seb.
With an eye of greene in't.

Ant.
He misses not much.

Seb.
No: he doth but mistake the truth totally.

Gon.
But the rariety of it is, which is indeed almost
beyond credit.

Seb.
As many voucht rarieties are.

Gon.
That our Garments being (as they were)
drencht in the Sea, hold notwithstanding their
freshnesse and glosses, being rather new dy'de then
stain'd with salte water.

Ant.
If but one of his pockets could speake, would it
not say he lyes?

Seb.
I, or very falsely pocket vp his report.

Gon.
Me thinkes our garments are now as fresh as
when we put them on first in Affricke, at the marriage of
the kings faire daughter Claribel to the king of Tunis.

Seb.
'Twas a sweet marriage, and we prosper well
in our returne.

Adri.
Tunis was neuer grac'd before with such a
Paragon to their Queene.

Gon.
Not since widdow Dido's time.

Ant.
Widow? A pox o'that: how came that Widdow
in? Widdow Dido!

Seb.
What if he had said Widdower Aeneas too?
Good Lord, how you take it?

Adri.
Widdow Dido said you? You make me study of
that: She was of Carthage, not of Tunis.

Gon.
This Tunis Sir was Carthage.

Adri.
Carthage?

Gon.
I assure you Carthage.

Ant.
His word is more then the miraculous Harpe.

Seb.
He hath rais'd the wall, and houses too.

Ant.
What impossible matter wil he make easy
next?

Seb.
I thinke hee will carry this Island home in his
pocket, and giue it his sonne for an Apple.

Ant.
And sowing the kernels of it in the Sea, bring
forth more Islands.

Gon.
I.

Ant.
Why in good time.

Gon.
Sir, we were talking, that our garments
seeme now as fresh as when we were at Tunis at
the marriage of your daughter, who is now Queene.

Ant.
And the rarest that ere came there.

Seb.
Bate (I beseech you) widdow Dido.

Ant.
O Widdow Dido? I, Widdow Dido.

Gon.
Is not Sir my doublet as fresh as the first day
I wore it? I meane in a sort.

Ant.
That sort was well fish'd for.

Gon.
When I wore it at your daughters marriage.

Alon.
You cram these words into mine eares, against
the stomacke of my sense: would I had neuer
Married my daughter there: For comming thence
My sonne is lost, and (in my rate) she too,
Who is so farre from Italy remoued,
I ne're againe shall see her: O thou mine heire
Of Naples and of Millaine, what strange fish
Hath made his meale on thee?

Fran.
Sir he may liue,
I saw him beate the surges vnder him,
And ride vpon their backes; he trod the water
Whose enmity he flung aside: and brested
The surge most swolne that met him: his bold head
'Boue the contentious waues he kept, and oared
Himselfe with his good armes in lusty stroke
To th' shore; that ore his waue-worne basis bowed
As stooping to releeue him: I not doubt
He came aliue to Land.

Alon.
No, no, hee's gone.

Seb.
Sir you may thank your selfe for this great losse,
That would not blesse our Europe with your daughter,
But rather loose her to an Affrican,
Where she at least, is banish'd from your eye,
Who hath cause to wet the greefe on't.

Alon.
Pre-thee peace.

Seb.
You were kneel'd too, & importun'd otherwise
By all of vs: and the faire soule her selfe
Waigh'd betweene loathnesse, and obedience, at
Which end o'th' beame should bow: we haue lost your son,
I feare for euer: Millaine and Naples haue
Mo widdowes in them of this businesse making,
Then we bring men to comfort them:
The faults your owne.

Alon.
So is the deer'st oth' losse.

Gon.
My Lord Sebastian,
The truth you speake doth lacke some gentlenesse,
And time to speake it in: you rub the sore,
When you should bring the plaister.

Seb.
Very well.

Ant.
And most Chirurgeonly.

Gon.
It is foule weather in vs all, good Sir,
When you are cloudy.

Seb.
Fowle weather?

Ant.
Very foule.

Gon.
Had I plantation of this Isle my Lord.

Ant.
Hee'd sow't with Nettle-seed.

Seb.
Or dockes, or Mallowes.

Gon.
And were the King on't, what would I do?

Seb.

Scape being drunke, for
want of Wine.

Gon.
I'th' Commonwealth I would (by contraries)
Execute all things: For no kinde of Trafficke
Would I admit: No name of Magistrate:
Letters should not be knowne: Riches, pouerty,
And vse of seruice, none: Contract, Succession,
Borne, bound of Land, Tilth, Vineyard none:
No vse of Mettall, Corne, or Wine, or Oyle:
No occupation, all men idle, all:
And Women too, but innocent and pure:
No Soueraignty.

Seb.
Yet he would be King on't.

Ant.
The latter end of his
Common-wealth forgets the beginning.

Gon.
All things in common Nature should produce
Without sweat or endeuour: Treason, fellony,
Sword, Pike, Knife, Gun, or neede of any Engine
Would I not haue: but Nature should bring forth
Of it owne kinde, all foyzon, all abundance
To feed my innocent people.

Seb.
No marrying 'mong his
subiects?

Ant.

None (man) all idle; Whores
and knaues,

Gon.
I would with such perfection gouerne Sir:
T'Excell the Golden Age.

Seb.
'Saue his Maiesty.

Ant.
Long liue Gonzalo.

Gon.
And do you marke me, Sir?

Alon.
Pre-thee no more: thou dost talke nothing to me.

Gon.
I do well beleeue your Highnesse, and did it to
minister occasion to these Gentlemen, who are of such
sensible and nimble Lungs, that they alwayes vse to laugh
at nothing.

Ant.
'Twas you we laugh'd at.

Gon.
Who, in this kind of merry fooling am nothing
to you: so you may continue, and laugh at nothing still.

Ant.
What a blow was there giuen?

Seb.
And it had not falne flat-long.

Gon.
You are Gentlemen of braue mettal: you would
lift the Moone out of her spheare, if she would continue in
it fiue weekes without changing.
Enter Ariell playing solemne Musicke.

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 aduenture my
discretion so weakly: Will you laugh me asleepe, for I
am very heauy.

Ant.
Go sleepe, and heare vs.

Alon.
What, all so soone asleepe? I wish mine eyes
Would (with themselues) shut vp my thoughts, I finde
they are inclin'd to do so.

Seb.
Please you Sir,
Do not omit the heauy offer of it:
It sildome 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.
Thanke you: Wondrous heauy.

Seb.
What a strange drowsines possesses them?

Ant.
It is the quality o'th' Clymate.

Seb.
Why
Doth it not then our eye-lids sinke? I finde
Not my selfe dispos'd to sleep.

Ant.
Nor I, my spirits are nimble:
They fell together all, as by consent
They dropt, as by a Thunder-stroke: what might
Worthy Sebastian? O, what might? no more:
And yet, me thinkes I see it in thy face,
What thou should'st be: th' occasion speaks thee, and
My strong imagination see's a Crowne
Dropping vpon thy head.

Seb.
What? art thou waking?

Ant.
Do you not heare me speake?

Seb.
I do, and surely
It is a sleepy Language; and thou speak'st
Out of thy sleepe: What is it thou didst say?
This is a strange repose, to be asleepe
With eyes wide open: standing, speaking, mouing:
And yet so fast asleepe.

Ant.
Noble Sebastian,
Thou let'st thy fortune sleepe: die rather: wink'st
Whiles thou art waking.

Seb.
Thou do'st snore distinctly,
There's meaning in thy snores.

Ant.
I am more serious then my custome: you
Must be so too, if heed me: which to do,
Trebbles thee o're.

Seb.
Well: I am standing water.

Ant.
Ile teach you how to flow.

Seb.
Do so: to ebbe
Hereditary Sloth instructs me.

Ant.
O!
If you but knew how you the purpose cherish
Whiles thus you mocke it: how in stripping it
You more inuest it: ebbing men, indeed
(Most often) do so neere the bottome run
By their owne feare, or sloth.

Seb.
'Pre-thee say on,
The setting of thine eye, and cheeke proclaime
A matter from thee; and a birth, indeed,
Which throwes thee much to yeeld.

Ant.
Thus Sir:
Although this Lord of weake remembrance; this
Who shall be of as little memory
When he is earth'd, hath here almost perswaded
(For hee's a Spirit of perswasion, onely
Professes to perswade) the King his sonne's aliue,
'Tis as impossible that hee's vndrown'd,
As he that sleepes heere, swims.

Seb.
I haue no hope
That hee's vndrown'd.

Ant.
O, out of that no hope,
What great hope haue you? No hope that way, Is
Another way so high a hope, that euen
Ambition cannot pierce a winke beyond
But doubt discouery there. Will you grant with me
That Ferdinand is drown'd.

Seb.
He's gone.

Ant.
Then tell me,
who's the next heire of Naples?

Seb.
Claribell.

Ant.
She that is Queene of Tunis: she that dwels
Ten leagues beyond mans life: she that from Naples
Can haue no note, vnlesse the Sun were post:
The Man i'th Moone's too slow, till new-borne chinnes
Be rough, and Razor-able: She that from whom
We all were sea-swallow'd, though some cast againe,
(And by that destiny) to performe an act
Whereof, what's past is Prologue; what to come
In yours, and my discharge.

Seb.
What stuffe is this?
How say you?
'Tis true my brothers daughter's Queene of Tunis,
So is she heyre of Naples, 'twixt which Regions
There is some space.

Ant.
A space, whose eu'ry cubit
Seemes to cry out, how shall that Claribell
Measure vs backe to Naples? keepe in Tunis,
And let Sebastian wake. Say, this were death
That now hath seiz'd them, why they were no worse
Then now they are: There be that can rule Naples
As well as he that sleepes: Lords, that can prate
As amply, and vnnecessarily
As this Gonzallo: I my selfe could make
A Chough of as deepe chat: O, that you bore
The minde that I do; what a sleepe were this
For your aduancement? Do you vnderstand me?

Seb.
Me thinkes I do.

Ant.
And how do's your content
Tender your owne good fortune?

Seb.
I remember
You did supplant your Brother Prospero.

Ant.
True:
And looke how well my Garments sit vpon me,
Much feater then before: My Brothers seruants
Were then my fellowes, now they are my men.

Seb.
But for your conscience.

Ant.
I Sir: where lies that? If 'twere a kybe
'Twould put me to my slipper: But I feele not
This Deity in my bosome: 'Twentie consciences
That stand 'twixt me, and Millaine, candied be they,
And melt ere they mollest: Heere lies your Brother,
No better then the earth he lies vpon,
If he were that which now hee's like (that's dead)
Whom I with this obedient steele (three inches of it)
Can lay to bed for euer: whiles you doing thus,
To the perpetuall winke for aye might put
This ancient morsell: this Sir Prudence, who
Should not vpbraid our course: for all the rest
They'l take suggestion, as a Cat laps milke,
They'l tell the clocke, to any businesse that
We say befits the houre.

Seb.
Thy case, deere Friend
Shall be my president: As thou got'st Millaine,
I'le come by Naples: Draw thy sword, one stroke
Shall free thee from the tribute which thou paiest,
And I the King shall loue thee.

Ant.
Draw together:
And when I reare my hand, do you the like
To fall it on Gonzalo.

Seb.
O, but one word.
Enter Ariell with Musicke and Song.

Ariel.
My Master through his Art foresees the danger
That you (his friend) are in, and sends me forth
(For else his proiect dies) to keepe them liuing.
Sings in Gonzaloes eare.
While you here do snoaring lie,
Open-ey'd Conspiracie
His time doth take:
If of Life you keepe a care,
Shake off slumber and beware.
Awake, awake.

Ant.
Then let vs both be sodaine.

Gon.
Now, good Angels
preserue the King.


Alo.
Why how now hoa; awake? why are you drawn?
Wherefore this ghastly looking?

Gon.
What's the matter?

Seb.
Whiles we stood here securing your repose,
(Euen now) we heard a hollow burst of bellowing
Like Buls, or rather Lyons, did't not wake you?
It strooke mine eare most terribly.

Alo.
I heard nothing.

Ant.
O, 'twas a din to fright a Monsters eare;
To make an earthquake: sure it was the roare
Of a whole heard of Lyons.

Alo.
Heard you this Gonzalo?

Gon.
Vpon mine honour, Sir, I heard a humming,
(And that a strange one too) which did awake me:
I shak'd you Sir, and cride: as mine eyes opend,
I saw their weapons drawne: there was a noyse,
That's verily: 'tis best we stand vpon our guard;
Or that we quit this place: let's draw our weapons.

Alo.
Lead off this ground & let's make further search
For my poore sonne.

Gon.
Heauens keepe him from these Beasts:
For he is sure i'th Island.

Alo.
Lead away.

Ariell.
Prospero my Lord, shall know what I haue done.
So (King) goe safely on to seeke thy Son.
Exeunt.
Original text
Act II, Scene II
Enter Caliban, with a burthen of Wood (a noyse of
Thunder heard.

Cal.
All the infections that the Sunne suckes vp
From Bogs, Fens, Flats, on Prosper fall, and make him
By ynch-meale a disease: his Spirits heare me,
And yet I needes must curse. But they'll nor pinch,
Fright me with Vrchyn-shewes, pitch me i'th mire,
Nor lead me like a fire-brand, in the darke
Out of my way, vnlesse he bid 'em; but
For euery trifle, are they set vpon me,
Sometime like Apes, that moe and chatter at me,
And after bite me: then like Hedg-hogs, which
Lye tumbling in my bare-foote way, and mount
Their pricks at my foot-fall: sometime am I
All wound with Adders, who with clouen tongues
Doe hisse me into madnesse:
Enter Trinculo.
Lo, now Lo,
Here comes a Spirit of his, and to torment me
For bringing wood in slowly: I'le fall flat,
Perchance he will not minde me.

Tri.
Here's neither bush, nor shrub to beare off
any weather at all: and another Storme brewing, I heare it
sing ith' winde: yond same blacke cloud, yond huge one,
lookes like a foule bumbard that would shed his licquor: if
it should thunder, as it did before, I know not where to
hide my head: yond same cloud cannot choose but fall
by paile-fuls. What haue we here, a man, or a fish? dead
or aliue? a fish, hee smels like a fish: a very ancient and
fish-like smell: a kinde of, not of the newest poore-Iohn:
a strange fish: were I in England now (as once I was)
and had but this fish painted; not a holiday-foole there but
would giue a peece of siluer: there, would this Monster,
make a man: any strange beast there, makes a man:
when they will not giue a doit to relieue a lame Begger,
they will lay out ten to see a dead Indian: Leg'd like a
man; and his Finnes like Armes: warme o'my troth: I doe
now let loose my opinion; hold it no longer; this is no
fish, but an Islander, that hath lately suffered by a
Thunderbolt:
Alas, the storme is come againe: my best way is to creepe
vnder his Gaberdine: there is no other shelter hereabout:
Misery acquaints a man with strange bedfellowes: I
will here shrowd till the dregges of the storme be past.
Enter Stephano singing.

Ste.
I shall no more to sea, to sea,
here shall I dye ashore.
This is a very scuruy tune to sing at a mans / Funerall:
well, here's my comfort.
Drinkes. Sings.
The Master, the Swabber, the Boate-swaine & I;
The Gunner, and his Mate
Lou'd Mall, Meg, and Marrian, and Margerie,
But none of vs car'd for Kate.
For she had a tongue with a tang,
Would cry to a Sailor goe hang:
She lou'd not the sauour of Tar nor of Pitch,
Yet a Tailor might scratch her where ere she did itch.
Then to Sea Boyes, and let her goe hang.
This is a scuruy tune too: But here's my comfort.
drinks.

Cal.
Doe not torment me: oh.

Ste.
What's the matter? Haue we diuels here? Doe
you put trickes vpon's with Saluages, and Men of Inde? ha?
I haue not scap'd drowning, to be afeard now of your
foure legges: for it hath bin said; as proper a man as
euer went on foure legs, cannot make him giue ground:
and it shall be said so againe, while Stephano breathes at'
nostrils.

Cal.
The Spirit torments me: oh.

Ste.
This is some Monster of the Isle, with foure
legs; who hath got (as I take it) an Ague: where the diuell
should he learne our language? I will giue him some
reliefe if it be but for that: if I can recouer him, and keepe
him tame, and get to Naples with him, he's a Present
for any Emperour that euer trod on Neates-leather.

Cal.
Doe not torment me 'prethee: I'le bring my wood
home faster.

Ste.
He's in his fit now; and doe's not talke after the
wisest; hee shall taste of my Bottle: if hee haue neuer
drunke wine afore, it will goe neere to remoue his Fit: if I
can recouer him, and keepe him tame, I will not take too
much for him; hee shall pay for him that hath him, and
that soundly.

Cal.
Thou do'st me yet but little hurt; thou wilt
anon, I know it by thy trembling: Now Prosper workes
vpon thee.

Ste.
Come on your wayes: open your mouth: here
is that which will giue language to you Cat; open your
mouth; this will shake your shaking, I can tell you, and
that soundly: you cannot tell
who's your friend; open your chaps againe.

Tri.
I should know that voyce: It should be, But
hee is dround; and these are diuels; O defend me.

Ste.
Foure legges and two voyces; a most delicate
Monster: his forward voyce now is to speake well of his
friend; his backward voice, is to vtter foule speeches, and
to detract: if all the wine in my bottle will recouer him,
I will helpe his Ague: Come: Amen, I
will poure some in thy other mouth.

Tri.
Stephano.

Ste.
Doth thy other mouth call me? Mercy,
mercy: This is a diuell, and no Monster: I will leaue him,
I haue no long Spoone.

Tri.
Stephano: if thou beest Stephano, touch me,
and speake to me: for I am Trinculo; be not afeard,
thy good friend Trinculo.

Ste.
If thou bee'st Trinculo: come forth: I'le pull
thee by the lesser legges: if any be Trinculo's legges, these
are they: Thou art very Trinculo indeede: how cam'st
thou to be the siege of this Moone-calfe? Can he vent
Trinculo's?

Tri.
I tooke him to be kil'd with a thunder-strok;
but art thou not dround Stephano: I hope now thou
art not dround: Is the Storme ouer-blowne? I hid mee
vnder the dead Moone-Calfes Gaberdine, for feare of the
Storme: And art thou liuing Stephano? O Stephano, two
Neapolitanes scap'd?

Ste.
'Prethee doe not turne me about, my stomacke is
not constant.

Cal.

These be fine things, and if they be not sprights:
that's a braue God, and beares Celestiall liquor:
I will kneele to him.

Ste.
How did'st thou scape? How cam'st thou
hither? Sweare by this Bottle how thou cam'st hither: I
escap'd vpon a But of Sacke, which the Saylors heaued
o'reboord, by this Bottle which I made of the barke of a
Tree, with mine owne hands, since I was cast a'shore.

Cal.
I'le sweare vpon that Bottle, to be thy true subiect,
for the liquor is not earthly.

St.
Heere: sweare then how thou escap'dst.

Tri.
Swom ashore (man) like a Ducke: I can swim
like a Ducke i'le be sworne.

Ste.
Here, kisse the Booke.
Though thou canst swim like a Ducke, thou art made like
a Goose.

Tri.
O Stephano, ha'st any more of this?

Ste.
The whole But (man) my Cellar is in a rocke
by th' sea-side, where my Wine is hid: How now Moone-Calfe,
how do's thine Ague?

Cal.
Ha'st thou not dropt from heauen?

Ste.
Out o'th Moone I doe assure thee. I was the
Man ith' Moone, when time was.

Cal.
I haue seene thee in her: and I doe adore thee: / My
Mistris shew'd me thee, and thy Dog, and thy Bush.

Ste.
Come, sweare to that: kisse the Booke: I will
furnish it anon with new Contents: Sweare.

Tri.
By this good light, this is a very shallow
Monster: I afeard of him? a very weake Monster: / The
Man ith' Moone? A most poore creadulous Monster:
Well drawne Monster, in good sooth.

Cal.
Ile shew thee euery fertill ynch o'th Island: and
I will kisse thy foote: I prethee be my god.

Tri.
By this light, a most perfidious, and drunken
Monster, when's god's a sleepe he'll rob his Bottle.

Cal.
Ile kisse thy foot, Ile sweare my selfe thy Subiect.

Ste.
Come on then: downe and sweare.

Tri.
I shall laugh my selfe to death at this puppi-headed
Monster: a most scuruie Monster: I could finde in
my heart to beate him.

Ste.
Come, kisse.

Tri.
But that the poore Monster's in drinke: An
abhominable Monster.

Cal.
I'le shew thee the best Springs: I'le plucke thee / Berries:
I'le fish for thee; and get thee wood enough.
A plague vpon the Tyrant that I serue;
I'le beare him no more Stickes, but follow thee,
thou wondrous man.

Tri.
A most rediculous Monster, to make a wonder
of a poore drunkard.

Cal.
I 'prethee let me bring thee where Crabs grow;
and I with my long nayles will digge thee pig-nuts;
show thee a Iayes nest, and instruct thee how
to snare the nimble Marmazet: I'le bring thee
to clustring Philbirts, and sometimes I'le get thee
young Scamels from the Rocke: Wilt thou goe with me?

Ste.
I pre'thee now lead the way without any more
talking. Trinculo, the King, and all our company else
being dround, wee will inherit here: Here; beare my
Bottle: Fellow Trinculo; we'll fill him by and by againe.
Caliban Sings drunkenly.
Farewell Master; farewell, farewell.

Tri.
A howling Monster: a drunken Monster.

Cal.
No more dams I'le make for fish,
Nor fetch in firing,
at requiring,
Nor scrape trenchering, nor wash dish,
Ban' ban' Cacalyban
Has a new Master, get a new Man.
Freedome, high-day, high-day freedome, freedome
high-day, freedome.

Ste
O braue Monster; lead the way.
Exeunt.
Modern text
Act II, Scene I
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,
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
(aside to Antonio)
He receives comfort like
cold porridge.

ANTONIO
(aside to Sebastian)
The visitor will not give
him o'er so.

SEBASTIAN (aside to Antonio)
(aside to Antonio)
Look, he's winding up the
watch of his wit. By and by it will strike.

GONZALO
Sir –

SEBASTIAN
One: tell.

GONZALO
When every grief is entertained that's offered,
Comes to th' entertainer –

SEBASTIAN
A dollar.

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
(to Alonso)
Therefore, my lord –

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,
first begins to crow?

SEBASTIAN
The old cock.

ANTONIO
The cockerel.

SEBASTIAN
Done. The wager?

ANTONIO
A laughter.

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 –

SEBASTIAN
Yet –

ADRIAN
Yet –

ANTONIO
He could not miss't.

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

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.

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!

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
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 glosses, being rather new-dyed than
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
when we put them on first in Afric, 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
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?
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?

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?

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
Ay.

ANTONIO
Why, in good time.

GONZALO
(to Alonso)
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.

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.

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,
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,
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
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,
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
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.
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.

SEBASTIAN
Very well.

ANTONIO
And most chirugeonly.

GONZALO
(to Alonso)
It is foul weather in us all, good sir,
When you are cloudy.

SEBASTIAN
(aside to Antonio)
Foul weather?

ANTONIO
(aside to Sebastian)
Very foul.

GONZALO
Had I plantation of this isle, my lord –

ANTONIO
(aside to Sebastian)
He'd sow't with nettle-seed.

SEBASTIAN
(aside to Antonio)
Or docks, or mallows.

GONZALO
And were the king on't, what would I do?

SEBASTIAN
(aside to Antonio)
'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.
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,
And women too, but innocent and pure.
No sovereignty –

SEBASTIAN
(aside to Antonio)
Yet he would be king on't.

ANTONIO
(aside to Sebastian)
The latter end of his
commonwealth forgets the beginning.

GONZALO
All things in common nature should produce
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 it own kind all foison, all abundance,
To feed my innocent people.

SEBASTIAN
(aside to Antonio)
No marrying 'mong his
subjects?

ANTONIO
(aside to Sebastian)
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!

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 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.

ANTONIO
What a blow was there given!

SEBASTIAN
An it had not fall'n 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.
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?

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.
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!

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,
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?

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,
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.
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
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
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 –
For he's a spirit of persuasion, only
Professes to persuade – the King his son's alive,
'Tis as impossible that he's undrowned
And he that sleeps here swims.

SEBASTIAN
I have no hope
That he's undrowned.

ANTONIO
O, out of that no hope
What great hope have you! No hope that way is
Another way so high a hope that even
Ambition cannot pierce a wink beyond,
But doubt discovery there. Will you grant with me
That Ferdinand is drowned?

SEBASTIAN
He's gone.

ANTONIO
Then, tell me,
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 new-born chins
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.

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 ev'ry 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 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
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?

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
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
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,
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.

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,
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 –
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.
Awake, awake!

ANTONIO
Then let us both be sudden.

GONZALO
(awakes)
Now, good angels
Preserve the King!
The others awake

ALONSO
Why, how now? – Ho, awake! – Why are you drawn?
Wherefore this ghastly looking?

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.

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.
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
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
Modern text
Act II, Scene II
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 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'th' mire,
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
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.
Enter Trinculo
Lo, now, lo!
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.

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,
looks like a foul bombard that would shed his liquor. If
it should thunder as it did before, I know not where to
hide my head. Yond same cloud cannot choose but fall
by pailfuls. What have we here? A man or a fish? Dead
or alive? A fish! He smells like a fish; a very ancient and
fishlike smell; a kind of not-of-the-newest poor-John.
A strange fish! Were I in England now, as once I was,
and had but this fish painted, not a 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. 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 islander that hath lately suffered by a
thunderbolt.
Thunder
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 bed-fellows. I
will here shroud till the dregs of the storm be past.
Enter Stephano, singing, a bottle in his hand

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.
He drinks and then sings
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,
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.
He drinks

CALIBAN
Do not torment me! Oh!

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 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
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.

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
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
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. (He gives Caliban wine) You 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
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! (Caliban drinks) Amen! I
will pour some in thy other mouth.

TRINCULO
Stephano!

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 beest Stephano, touch me
and speak to me; for I am Trinculo – be not afeard –
thy good friend Trinculo.

STEPHANO
If thou beest Trinculo, 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 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
storm. And art thou living, Stephano? O Stephano, two
Neapolitans 'scaped?

STEPHANO
Prithee, do not turn me about. My stomach is
not constant.

CALIBAN
(aside)
These be fine things, an if they be not sprites.
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
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.

TRINCULO
Swum ashore, man, like a duck. I can swim
like a duck, I'll be sworn.

STEPHANO
Here, kiss the book. (He gives him wine)
Though thou canst swim like a duck, thou art made like
a goose.

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?

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
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!

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.

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.

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!
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;
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?

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

CALIBAN
Farewell, master! Farewell, farewell!

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, Cacaliban
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
SHAKESPEARE'S WORDS © 2018 DAVID CRYSTAL & BEN CRYSTAL