The rest o' th' island.

Pros.

Thou most lying slave,

Whom stripes may move, not kindness! I have used thee,
Filth as thou art, with human care; and lodged thee
In mine own cell, till thou didst seek to violate

The honour of my child.

Cal. O ho, O ho! would 't had been done!
Thou didst prevent me; I had peopled else
This isle with Calibans.

Pros.

Abhorred slave,

Which any print of goodness wilt not take,
Being capable of all ill! I pitied thee,

Took pains to make thee speak, taught thee each hour
One thing or other : when thou didst not, savage,
Know thine own meaning, but wouldst gabble like
A thing most brutish, I endow'd thy purposes

With words that made them known.

But thy vile race,

Though thou didst learn, had that in 't which good natures Could not abide to be with; therefore wast thou

Deservedly confined into this rock,

Who hadst deserved more than a prison.

Cal. You taught me language; and my profit on 't
Is, I know how to curse. The red plague rid you
For learning me your language !

Pros.

Hag-seed, hence!
Fetch us in fuel; and be quick, thou'rt best,
To answer other business.

Shrug'st thou, malice

If thou neglect'st, or dost unwillingly

What I command, I'll rack thee with old cramps,
Fill all thy bones with aches, make thee roar,

That beasts shall tremble at thy din.

Cal.

No, pray thee.
[Aside] I must obey: his art is of such power,
It would control my dam's god, Setebos,
And make a vassal of him.

Pros.

So, slave! hence! [Exit Caliban.

Re-enter Ariel, invisible, playing and singing;
Ferdinand following.

Ariel's song.

Come unto these yellow sands,

And then take hands:

Courtsied when you have and kiss'd

The wild waves whist :

Foot it featly here and there ;

And, sweet sprites, the burthen bear.

Hark, hark!

Burthen [dispersedly]. Bow-wow.

Ari. The watch dogs bark:

Burthen [dispersedly]. Bow-wow.

Ari. Hark, hark! I hear

The strain of strutting chanticleer
Cry, Cock-a-diddle-dow.

Fer. Where should this music be? i' th' air or th' earth?
It sounds no more: and, sure, it waits upon
Some god o' th' island. Sittting on a bank,
Weeping again the king my father's wreck,
This music crept by me upon the waters,
Allaying both their fury and my passion
With its sweet air: thence I have follow'd it,
Or it hath drawn me rather. But 'tis gone.

No, it begins again.

Ariel sings.

Full fathom five thy father lies;
Of his bones are coral made;
Those are pearls that were his eyes:
Nothing of him that doth fade,

But doth suffer a sea-change
Into something rich and strange.
Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell:

Burthen: Ding-dong

Ari. Hark! now I hear them,-Ding-dong, bell.
Fer. The ditty does remember my drown'd father.
This is no mortal business, nor no sound
That the earth owes :-I hear it now above me.
Pros. The fringed curtains of thine eye advance,
And say what thou seest yond.
Mir.

What is 't? a spirit?

Lord, how it looks about! Believe me, sir,

It carries a brave form. But 'tis a spirit.

Pros. No, wench; it eats and sleeps and hath such senses
As we have, such. This gallant which thou seest

Was in the wreck; and, but he's something stain'd
With grief, that's beauty's canker, thou mightst call him
A goodly person: he hath lost his fellows,

And strays about to find 'em.

Mir.

I might call him

A thing divine; for nothing natural
I ever saw so noble.

Pros.

[Aside] It goes on, I see,

As my soul prompts it. Spirit, fine spirit! I'll free thee

Within two days for this.

Fer.

Most sure, the goddess

On whom these airs attend! Vouchsafe my prayer
May know if you remain upon this island;
And that you will some good instruction give
How I may bear me here: my prime request,
Which I do last pronounce, is, O you wonder!
If you be maid or no?

Mir.

But certainly a maid.

Fer.

No wonder, sir;

My language! heavens! I am the best of them that speak this speech, Were I but where 'tis spoken.

Pros.

How? the best?

What wert thou, if the King of Naples heard thee?
Fer. A single thing, as I am now, that wonders
To hear thee speak of Naples.

He does hear me ;

And that he does I weep: myself am Naples,
Who with mine eyes, never since at ebb, beheld
The king my father wreck'd.

Mir.

Alack, for mercy!

Fer. Yes, faith, and all his lords; the Duke of Milan

And his brave son being twain.

Pros.

[Aside] The Duke of Milan

And his more braver daughter could control thee,

If now 'twere fit to do 't.

They have changed eyes.

I'll set thee free for this.

At the first sight.

Delicate Ariel,

[To Fer.] A word, good sir;

I fear you have done yourself some wrong: a word.

Mir. Why speaks my father so ungently?

This

Is the third man that e'er I saw; the first
That e'er I sigh'd for: pity move my father
To be inclined my way!

And your affection not gone forth, I'll make you
The queen of Naples.

Pros.

Soft, sir! one word more.

[Aside] They are both in either's powers: but this swift business
I must uneasy make, lest too light winning

Make the prize light. [To Fer.] One word more; I charge thee
That thou attend me: thou dost here usurp

The name thou owest not; and hast put thyself

Upon this island as a spy, to win it

From me, the lord on 't.

Fer.

No, as I am a man.

0

0

Mir. There's nothing ill can dwell in such a temple:
If the ill spirit have so fair a house,
Good things will strive to dwell with 't.
Pros.

Speak not you for him; he's a traitor.

Follow me.

Come ;

I'll manacle thy neck and feet together:
Sea-water shalt thou drink; thy food shall be
The fresh-brook muscles, wither'd roots, and husks
Wherein the acorn cradled. Follow.

Fer.

I will resist such entertainment till

Mine enemy has more power.

Mir.

No;

[Draws, and is charmed from moving. O dear father,

Make not too rash a trial of him, for
He's gentle, and not fearful.

Pros.

What! I say,

My foot my tutor? Put thy sword up, traitor r;

Who makest a show, but darest not strike, thy conscience Is so possess'd with guilt: come from thy ward;

For I can here disarm thee with this stick

And make thy weapon drop.

Mir.

Pros. Hence! hang not on my garments.

Mir.

I'll be his surety.

Pros.

Beseech you, father

Sir, have pity;

Silence! one word more

Shall make me chide thee, if not hate thee. What !
An advocate for an impostor! hush!

Thou think'st there is no more such shapes as he,
Having seen but him and Caliban: foolish wench!
To the most of men this is a Caliban,

And they to him are angels.

Mir.

My affections

Are, then, most humble; I have no ambition

To see a goodlier man.

Pros.

Come on; obey:

So they are:

Thy nerves are in their infancy again,
And have no vigour in them.

Fer.

My spirits, as in a dream, are all bound up.

My father's loss, the weakness which I feel,
The wreck of all my friends, nor this man's threats,
To whom I am subdued, are but light to me,

Might I but through my prison once a day

Behold this maid: all corners else o' th' earth
Let liberty make use of; space enough

Have I in such a prison.

Pros.

[Aside] It works. [To Fer.] Come on. Thou hast done well, fine Ariel! [To Fer.] Follow me. [To Ari.] Hark what thou else shalt do me

Mir.

Be of comfort;

My father's of a better nature, sir,
Than he appears by speech: this is unwonted
Which now came from him.

Thou shalt be as free

Pros.
As mountain winds: but then exactly do
All points of my command.

Ari.

To the syllable.

Pros. Come, follow. Speak not for him.

ACT II-SCENE I

Another part of the island.

Enter Alonso, Sebastian, Antonio, Gonzalo,
Adrian, Francisco, and others.

Gon. 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.

Alon.

Prithee, peace.

Seb. He receives comfort like cold porridge.
Ant. The visitor will not give him o'er so.

[Exeunt.

[will strike.

Seb. Look, he's winding up the watch of his wit; by and by it

Gon. Sir,

Seb. One: tell.

[entertainerGon. When every grief is entertain'd that's offer'd, Comes to the Seb. A dollar.

[you purposed.

Gon. Dolour comes to him, indeed: you have spoken truer than Seb. You have taken it wiselier than I meant you should.

Gon. Therefore, my lord,

Ant. Fie, what a spendthrift is he of his tongue!

Alon. I prithee, spare.

Gon. Well, I have done: but yet,—

Seb. He will be talking.