Must be so too, if heed me; which to do,
Trebles thee o'er.

Seb.

Well; I am standing water.

Ant. I'll teach you how to flow.

Seb.

Hereditary sloth instructs me.

Ant.

Do so: to ebb,

0,

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.

Seb.

Pr'ythee, say on: The setting of thine eye, and cheek, proclaim A matter from thee; and a birth, indeed, Which throes thee much to yield.

Thus, sir:

Ant. 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,

As he that sleeps here, swims.

Seb.

That he's undrowned.

Ant.

I have no hope

O, out of that no hope

What great hope have you! no hope, that way, is
Another way so high in hope, that even

Ambition cannot pierce a wink beyond,

But doubts discovery there. Will you grant, with me, That Ferdinand is drowned ?

Seb. Ant.

He's gone.

Then tell me,

Claribel.

Who's the next heir of Naples?

Seb.

Ant. 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' the moon's too slow,) till new-born chins
Be rough and razorable: she, 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.

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 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?
Seb. Methinks, I do.

Ant.

And how does your content

Tender your own good fortune?

Seb.

I remember,

You did supplant your brother Prospero.

True:

Ant.
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.
Seb. But, for your conscience-

Ant. Ay, sir; where lies that? if it were a kybe,
'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, e'er 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 forever: 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.

Thy case, dear friend,

Seb. 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 pay'st; And I the king shall love thee.

Ant.

Draw together:

And when I rear my hand, do you the like,
To fall it on Gonzalo.

Seb.

O, but one word.

[They converse apart.

Music. Re-enter ARIEL, invisible.

Ari. My master through his art foresees the danger That you, his friend, are in; and sends me forth,

For else his projects die, 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!

Ant. Then let us both be sudden.

Gon. Now, good angels, preserve the king.

[They awake. 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. 0, 'twas a din to fright a monster's ear;
To make an earthquake; sure it was the roar
Of a whole herd of lions.

Alon.
Heard you this, Gonzalo?
Gon. 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 verity: 'Best stand upon our guard;

Or that we quit this place: let's draw our weapons.
Alon. Lead off this ground; and let's make further search
For my poor son.

Gon.

Heavens keep him from these beasts!

For he is, sure, i' the island.

Alon.

Lead away.

Ari. Prospero my lord shall know what I have done:

So, king, go safely on to seek thy son.

[Aside. [Exeunt.

SCENE II.—Another Part of the Island.

Enter CALIBAN, with a burden of wood. A noise of thunder heard.

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,

And yet I needs must curse. But they'll nor pinch,
Fright me with urchin shows, pitch me i' the mire,
Nor lead me, like a firebrand, in the dark,
Out of my way, unless he bid them; but
For every trifle are they set upon me:
Sometimes like apes, that moe and chatter at me,
And after, bite me; then like hedge-hogs,, which
Lie tumbling in my barefoot way, and mount
Their pricks at my foot-fall; sometime am I
All wound with adders, who, with cloven tongues,
Do hiss me into madness:-Lo! now! lo!

Enter TRINCULO.

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.

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 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 fish-like 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 bedfellows. I will here shroud, till the dregs of the storm be past.

Enter STEPHANO, singing; a bottle in his hand.

Ste. 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.

The master, the swabber, the boatswain, and I,
The gunner, and his mate,

Loved Mall, Megg, 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:

[Drinks.

She loved not the savor 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.

[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 '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.

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 hath 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: