THE Text of this Edition has been taken from the GLOBE

SHAKESPEARE, edited by WILLIAM GEORGE CLARK and

WILLIAM ALDIS WRIGHT. The obelus † was used by the Editors to mark passages which in their opinion had not been satisfactorily corrected. The Glossary is entirely new.

ACT I.

Gon. Nay, good, be patient.

Boats. When the sea is. Hence! SCENE I. On a ship at sea : a tempestuous noise of thunder and lightning What cares these roarers for the name of heard.

king? To cabin : silence ! trouble us not.

Gon. Good, yet remember whom thou Enter a Ship-Master and a Boatswain.

hast aboard. Mast. Boatswain !

Boats. None that I more love than Boats. Here, master : what cheer? myself. You are a counsellor; if you

Mast. Good, speak to the mariners : can command these elements to silence, fall to't, yarely, or we run ourselves and work the peace of the present, we aground: bestir, bestir.

[Exit. will not hand a rope more; use your

authority: if you cannot, give thanks Enter Mariners.

you have lived so long, and make yourBoats. Heigh, my hearts! cheerly, self ready in your cabin for the mischance cheerly, my hearts! yare, yare! Take of the hour, if it so hap. Cheerly, good in the topsail . Tend to the master's hearts ! Out of our way, I say. [Exit

. whistle. Blow, till thou burst thy wind, Gon. I have great comfort from this if room enough!

fellow: methinks he hath no drowning

mark upon him; his complexion is perEnter ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO,

fect gallows. Stand fast, good Fate, to FERDINAND, GONZALO, and others.

his hanging: make the rope of his destiny Alon. Good boatswain, have care. our cable, for our own doth little advanWhere's the master ? Play the men. tage. If he be not born to be hanged, Boats. I pray now, keep below. our case is miserable.

[Exeunt. Ant. Where is the master, boatswain ? Boats. Do you not hear him ? You

Re-enter Boatswain. mar our labour: keep your cabins: you

Boats. Down with the topmast ! yare ! do assist the storm.

lower, lower! Bring her to try with VOL. I.

B

you have

main-course. [A cry within.] A plague thing. The wills above be done! but I
upon this howling! they are louder than would fain die a dry death. [Exeunt.
the weather or our office.
Re-enter SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, and

SCENE II. The island. Before
GONZALO.

PROSPERO's cell.
Yet again! what do you here? Shall we

Enter PROSPERO and MIRANDA. give o'er and drown? Have you a mind Mir. If by your art, my dearest father, to sink?

Seb. A pox o' your throat, you bawl- Put the wild waters in this roar, allay ing, blasphemous, incharitable dog !

them. Boats. Work you then.

The sky, it seems, would pour down Ant. Hang, cur! hang, you whoreson, stinking pitch, insolent noisemaker! We are less afraid But that the sea, mounting to the welto be drowned than thou art.

kin's cheek, Gon. I'll warrant him for drowning; Dashes the fire out. O, I have suffer'd though the ship were no stronger than a With those that I saw suffer: a brave nutshell and as leaky as an unstanched vessel, wench.

Who had, no doubt, some noble creature Boats. Lay her a-hold, a-hold ! set her

in her, two courses off to sea again; lay her off. Dash'd all to pieces. O, the cry did

knock Enter Mariners wet.

Against my very heart. Poor souls, they Mariners. All lost! to prayers, to perish'd. prayers ! all lost !

Had I been any god of power, I would Boats. What, must our mouths be Have sunk the sea within the earth or ere cold?

It should the good ship so have swallow'd Gon. The king and prince at prayers !

and let's assist them,

The fraughting souls within her. For our case is as theirs.

Pros.

Be collected : Seb.

I'm out of patience. No more amazement: tell your piteous Ant. We are merely cheated of our heart lives by drunkards:

There's no harm done. This wide-chapp'd rascal — would thou Mir.

O, woe the day! mightst lie drowning

Pros.

No harm. The washing of ten tides !

I have done nothing but in care of thee, Gon.

He'll be hang'd yet, Of thee, my dear one, thee, my daughter, Though every drop of water swear against it

who And gape at widest to glut him.

Art ignorant of what thou art, nought [A confused noise within : Mercy on knowing

Of whence I am, nor that I am more "We split, we split !'— Farewell my better wife and children !'

Than Prospero, master of a full poor cell, 'Farewell, brother!'—'We split, we And thy no greater father. split, we split !']

Mir.

More to know Ant. Let's all sink with the king. Did never meddle with my thoughts. Seb. Let's take leave of him.

Pros.

'Tis time [Exeunt Ant. and Seb. I should inform thee farther. Lend thy Gon. Now would I give a thousand hand, furlongs of sea for an acre of barren And pluck my magic garment from me. ground, long heath, brown furze, any

So:

[Lays down his mantle.

:

us !

you, farther.

Lie there, my art. Wipe thou thine She said thou wast my daughter; and thy eyes; have comfort.

father The direful spectacle of the wreck, which Was Duke of Milan; and thou his only touch'd

heir The very virtue of compassion in thee, And princess no worse issued. I have with such provision in mine art Mir.

O the heavens ! So safely ordered that there is no soul- What foul play had we, that we came No, not so much perdition as an hair

from thence ? Betid to any creature in the vessel

Or blessed was't we did ? Which thou heard'st cry, which thou Pros.

Both, both, my girl : saw'st sink. Sit down;

By foul play, as thou say’st, were we For thou must now know farther.

heaved thence, Mir.

You have often But blessedly holp hither. Begun to tell me what I am, but stopp'd Mir.

O, my heart bleeds And left me to a bootless inquisition, To think o' the teen that I have turn'd Concluding 'Stay: not yet.'

you to, Pros.

The hour's now come; Which is from my remembrance! Please The very minute bids thee ope thine ear;

Pros. My brother and thy uncle, call’d Obey and be attentive. Canst thou Antonioremember

I pray thee, mark me—that a brother A time before we came unto this cell ?

should I do not think thou canst, for then thou Be so perfidious !—he whom next thyself wast not

Of all the world I loved and to him put Out three years old.

The manage of my state; as at that time Mir.

Certainly, sir, I can. Through all the signories it was the first Pros. By what? by any other house or And Prospero the prime duke, being so person?

reputed Of any thing the image tell me that In dignity, and for the liberal arts Hath kept with thy remembrance. Without a parallel; those being all my Mir.

'Tis far off

study, And rather like a dream than an assurance The government I cast upon my brother That my remembrance warrants. Had I And to my state grew stranger, being not

transported Four or five women once that tended me? And rapt in secret studies. Thy false Pros. Thou hadst, and more,

Miranda. uncle-
But how is it

Dost thou attend me?
That this lives in thy mind? What seest Mir.

Sir, most heedfully. thou else

Pros. Being once perfected how to In the dark backward and abysm of time?

grant suits, If thou remember'st aught ere thou camest How to deny them, who to advance and here,

who How thou camest here thou mayst. To trash for over-topping, new created Mir.

But that I do not. The creatures that were mine, I say, or Pros. Twelve year since, Miranda, changed 'em, twelve year since,

Or else new form'd 'em; having both the Thy father was the Duke of Milan and key A prince of power.

Of officer and office, set all hearts i’ the Mir. Sir, are not you my father ? state Pros. Thy mother was a piece of virtue, To what tune pleased his ear; that now and

one

a

The ivy which had hid my princely trunk, Pros. Mark his condition and the And suck'd my verdure out on't. Thou event; then tell me attend'st not.

If this might be a brother. Mir. O, good sir, I do.

Mir.

I should sin Pros.

I pray thee, mark me. To think but nobly of my grandmother : I, thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedi- Good wombs have borne bad sons. cated

Pros.

Now the condition. To closeness and the bettering of my mind | This King of Naples, being an enemy With that which, but by being so retired, To me inveterate, hearkens my brother's O’er-prized all popular rate, in my false suit; brother

Which was, that he, in lieu o' the Awaked an evil nature; and my trust,

premises Like a good parent, did beget of him Of homage and I know not how much A falsehood in its contrary as great

tribute, As my trust was; which had indeed no Should presently extirpate me and mine limit,

Out of the dukedom and confer fair Milan A confidence sans bound. He being thus with all the honours on my brother : lorded,

whereon, Not only with what my revenue yielded, A treacherous army levied, one midnight But what my power might else exact, like Fated to the purpose did Antonio open

The gates of Milan, and, i' the dead of +Who having into truth, by telling of it, darkness, Made such a sinner of his memory, The ministers for the purpose hurried To credit his own lie, he did believe

thence He was indeed the duke; out o’ the sub- Me and thy crying self. stitution,

Mir.

Alack, for pity! And executing the outward face of royalty, I, not remembering how I cried out With all prerogative: hence his ambition then, growing

Will cry it o'er again: it is a hint Dost thou hear ?

That wrings mine eyes to’t. Mir. Your tale, sir, would cure deaf- Pros.

Hear a little further

And then I'll bring thee to the present Pros. To have no screen between this business part he play'd

Which now's upon's; without the which And him he play'd it for, he needs will be Absolute Milan. Me, poor man, my Were most impertinent. library

Mir.

Wherefore did they not Was dukedom large enough: of temporal That hour destroy us? royalties

Pros. Well demanded, wench: He thinks me now incapable; con- My tale provokes that question.. Dear, federates

they durst not, So dry he was for sway—wi’ the King of So dear the love my people bore me, nor Naples

set To give him annual tribute, do him A mark so bloody on the business, but homage,

With colours fairer painted their foul Subject his coronet to his crown and ends. bend

In few, they hurried us aboard a bark, The dukedom yet unbow'd—alas, poor Bore us some leagues to sea; where they Milan !

prepared To most ignoble stooping.

A rotten carcass of a boat, not rigg'd, Mir.

O the heavens! | Nor tackle, sail, nor mast; the very rats

a

ness.

this story