SCENE I. Another part of the Island. ACT II. Enter ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, GONZALO, Gon. 'Beseech you, sir, be merry: you have cause Alon. Pr'ythee, peace! Gon. Sir, Seb. One: Tell. Gon. When every grief is entertain'd, that's offer'd, Comes to the entertainer. Seb. A dollar. Gon. Dolour comes to him, indeed; you have spoken truer than you purposed. 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! Gon. Well, I have done: But yet Seb. He will be talking. 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 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. 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. 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. Gon. I assure you, Carthage. Ant. His word is more than the miraculous harp. Ant. Which of them, he, or Adrian, for a good his pocket, and give it his son for an apple. Seb. I think, he will carry this island home in wager, first begins to crow? Seb. The old cock. Ant. The cockrel. Seb. Done: the wager? Ant. A laughter. Seb. A match. Ant. And, sowing the kernels of it in the sea, bring forth more islands. Gon. Ay? Ant. Why, in good time. Gon. 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. Ant. And the rarest that e'er came there. Seb. 'Bate, I beseech you, widow Dido. Gon. Is not, sir, my doublet as fresh as the first day I wore it? I mean, in a sort. Ant. That sort was well fish'd for. Gon. When I wore it at your daughter's marriage? Alon. You cram these words into mine ears The stomach of my sense: 'Would I had never Gon. 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. 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 given ! 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, 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 inclin'd to do so. Seb. Please you, sir, Do not omit the heavy offer of it: True: And, look, how well my garments sit upon me; Ant. Ay, sir; where lies that? if it were a kybe, If he were that which now he's like; whom I, Seb. Thy case, dear friend, as thou got'st Milan, Shall be my precedent; Draw together: O, but one word! [They converse apart. Music. Re-enter ARIEL, invisible. Ari. My master through his art foresees the danger That these, his friends, are in; and sends me forth, Then, tell me, (For else his project dies,) to keep them living. [Sings in GONZALO's ear. Claribel. Can have no note, unless the sun were post, 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 Ant. And how does your content Tender your own good fortune? 6 A bird of the jackdaw kind. While you here do snoring lie, His time doth take: If of life you keep a care, Ant. Then let us both be sudden. Alon. Why, how now, ho! awake! Why are you drawn? Wherefore this ghastly looking? Gon. What's the matter? Seb. Whiles we stood here securing your repose, Even now, we heard a hollow burst of bellowing Like bulls, or rather lions; did it not wake you? It struck mine ear most terribly. Alon. I heard nothing. 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. SCENE II.-Another part of the Island. 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, Enter TRINCULO. Here comes a spirit of his; and to torment me, Trin. Here's neither bush nor shrub, to bear off any weather at all, and another storm brewing; I hear it sing i'the wind: yond' same black cloud, yond' huge one, looks like a foul bumbard 8 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 holidayfool 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 suffered by a thunderbolt. [Thunder.] Alas! the storm is come again: my best way is to creep under his gaberdine 9; 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. Lov'd Mall, Meg, and Marian, and Margery, But none of us car'd for Kate: For she had a tongue with a tang, Would cry to a sailor, Go hang : Then to sea, boys, and let her go hang. This is a scurvy tune too: But here's my comfort. [Drinks. Cal. Do not torment me: O! 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: O! 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 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 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! If all the wine in my bottle will recover him, I will help his ague: Come, 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 afcard, thy good friend Trinculo. Ste. If thou beest Trinculo, come forth; I'll puil 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? 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 'scap'd! Ste. Pr'ythee, 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: Ste. How did'st 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 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. 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. monster: 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 - Well drawn, monster, in good sooth. Cal. I'll show thee every fertile inch o' the island: 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. I'll fish for thee, and get thee wood enough. 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; Shew 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 3 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. Cal. No more dams I'll make for fish; At requiring, Nor scrape trenchering, 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. [Exeunde ACT III. SCENE I.- Before Prospero's Cell. Enter FERDINAND, bearing a log. 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; Fer. There be some sports are painful; but their He's safe for these three hours. labour 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 labours 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 éxecutor. I forget: But these sweet thoughts do even refresh my labours; Most busy-less, when I do it. 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! Fer. O most dear mistress, The sun will set, before I shall discharge What I must strive to do. |