THE TEMPEST. Actus Primus. Scena Prima. A Ship at Sea. A tempeftuous noife of Thunder and Lightning heard: Enter a Ship-mafter, and a Botefwaine. B Mafter. Ote-fwaine ! Botef. Heere, Mafter! What cheere? Maft. Good, Speake to th' Mariners! fall to't, yarely, or we run our felues a ground. Beftirre! bestirre! [Exit. 5 Enter Mariners. Botef. Heigh my hearts, cheerely! cheerely, my harts! yare, yare! Take in the toppe-fale! Tend to th❜Mafters whistle! Blow till thou burst thy winde, if roome enough! Enter ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, ANTHONIO, FERdinando, GONZALO, and others. Alon. Good Botefwaine, haue care! Where's the Master > Play the men! Botef. I pray now, keepe below! ΙΟ 12 3. to't] too't F. Botef. Do you not heare him? You marre our labour! Keepe your Cabines! you do assist the storme. Gonz. Nay, good, be patient! 15 Hence! what cares these roarers for the name of King? To Cabine! Silence! Trouble vs not! Gon. Good, yet remember whom thou haft aboord. 19 Botef. None that I more loue then my felfe. You are a Counsellor: if you can command these Elements to filence, and worke the peace of the present, wee will not hand a rope more: vse your authoritie! If you cannot, giue thankes you haue liu'd fo long, and make your felfe readie in your [24 Cabine for the mifchance of the houre, if it fo hap. ¶Cheerely, good hearts! ¶ Out of our way, I fay! [Exit. Gon. I haue great comfort from this fellow: methinks he hath no drowning marke vpon him; his complexion is [28 perfect Gallowes. Stand faft, good Fate, to his hanging! make the rope of his destiny our cable, for our owne doth little aduantage! If he be not borne to bee hang'd, our cafe is miferable! [Exeunt. 32 Re-enter Botefwaine. Botef. Downe with the top-Maft! Yare! Lower, lower! Bring her to Try with Maine-courfe! [A cry within.] A plague vpon this howling! they are lowder then the weather, or our office! 36 Re-enter SEBASTIAN, ANTHONIO, & GONZALO. Yet againe? What! Do you heere? Shal we giue ore and drowne? Haue you a minde to finke? Sebaf. A poxe o'your throat, you bawling, blafphemous, incharitable Dog! Botef. Worke you then! 40 Anth. Hang cur! hang! You whorefon infolent Noyfemaker! we are leffe afraid to be drownde, then thou art. 43 Gonz. I'le warrant him for drowning, though the Ship were no ftronger then a Nutt-fhell, and as leaky as an vnftanched wench. 32. Exeunt] Exit F. 36-7. Re-enter..] Enter.. F (after 'plague A cry within. 1. 35). Botef. Lay her a hold, a hold! fet her two courses off to Sea againe! lay her off! Enter Mariners, wet. Mari. All loft! To prayers, to prayers! All loft! Botef. What! muft our mouths be cold? 48 [Exeunt. Gonz. The King, and Prince, at prayers! let's affift them, For our cafe is as theirs. Sebaf. I'am out of patience. 52 An. We are meerly cheated of our liues by drunkards! This wide-chopt-rafcall: would thou mightft lye drowning The washing of ten Tides! Hee'l be hang'd yet, Gonz. And gape at widft to glut him. 2 Mar. We split! we split! 3 Mar. 4 Mar. Farewell, brother! 5 Mar. 56 [A confufed noyfe within. Mercy on vs! Farewell my wife, and children! We split, we split, we split! бо [Exeunt all but Gonz. Anth. Let's all finke with' King! Seb. Let's take leaue of him! Gonz. Now would I giue a thousand furlongs of Sea, for an Acre of barren ground, Long heath, Browne firrs, any thing. The Wills aboue be done! but I would faine dye a dry death. [Exit. 65 Actus Primus. Scena Secunda. The Sea-Cliffes. Enter PROSPERO and MIRANDA. Mira. If by your Art (my deerest father) you haue The skye (it feemes) would powre down ftinking pitch, Dashes the fire out. Oh! I haue fuffered 61. Exeunt...] Exit F. 1 firrs = furze. With thofe that I saw suffer! A braue vessell (Who had, no doubt, some noble creature in her) Haue funcke the Sea within the Earth, or ere It should the good Ship fo haue swallow'd, and Prof. Mira. Prof. 12 16 I haue done nothing, but in care of thee (Of thee, my deere one! thee, my daughter!) who Of whence I am; nor that I am more better Mira. More to know, Did neuer medle with my thoughts. 20 'Tis time I fhould informe thee farther! Lend thy hand, 24 [Throws down his Mantle. ¶ Lye there, my Art! ¶Wipe thou thine eyes! haue comfort! The direfull spectacle of the wracke, which touch'd The very vertue of compaffion in thee, I haue (with fuch prouifion in mine Art) 28 So fafely ordered, that there is no foule, No, not fo much perdition as an hayre, Betid to any creature in the veffell 31 Which thou heardft cry, which thou faw'ft finke. Sit downe! For thou must now know farther. |