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Master of a ship, Boatswain, and Mariners.

SCENE,-The sea, with a Ship: afterwards an uninhabited Island.

SCENE I.-On a Ship at Sea.

A Storm with Thunder and Lightning.

Enter a Ship-master and a Boatswain. Master Boatswain,

ACT I.

Boats. Here, master: What cheer? Master. Good: Speak to the mariners : fall to't yarely, or we run ourselves aground; bestir, bestir [Exit.

Enter Mariners.

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Gon. Good; yet remember whom thou hast aboard.

Boats. None that I more love than myself. You are a counsellor; if you can command these elements to silence, and work the peace of the present we will not hand a rope more; use your authority. If you cannot, give thanks you have lived so long, and make yourself ready in your cabin for the mischance of the hour, if it so hap.-Cheerly, good hearts.-Out of our way, I say. [Exit.

Gon. I have great comfort from this fellow : methinks he hath no drowning mark upon him; his complexion is perfect gallows. Stand fast, good fate, to his hanging! make the rope of his destiny our cable, for our own doth little advantage! if he be not born to be hanged our case is miserable. [Exeunt.

Re-enter Boatswain.

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For our case is as theirs.

Seb. I am out of patience.

Ant. We are merely cheated of our lives by drunkards.

This wide-chapped rascal; -'Would, thou might'st lie drowning,

The washing of ten tides!

Gon. He'll be hanged yet;

Though every drop of water swear against it,
And gape at wid'st to glut him.

[A confused noise within.] - Mercy on us! We split, we split! - Farewell, my wife and children! Farewell, brother! We split, we split, we split! Ant. Let's all sink with the king. [Exit. Seb. Let's take leave of him. [Exit. Gon. Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea for an acre of barren ground; long heath, brown furze, any thing: The wills above be done! but I would fain die a dry death. [Erit.

SCENE II.The Island: before the Cell of PROSPERO.

Enter PROSPERO and MIRANDA.

Mira. If by your art, my dearest father, you have Put the wild waters in this roar, allay them: The sky, it seems, would pour down stinking pitch, But that the sea, mounting to the welkin's cheek, Dashes the fire out. O, I have suffer'd With those that I saw suffer! a brave vessel, Who had no doubt some noble creatures in her, Dash'd all to pieces. O, the cry did knock Against my very heart! Poor souls! they perish'd. Had I been any god of power, I would Have sunk the sea within the earth, or e'er It should the good ship so have swallowed, and The freighting souls within her.

Pro.

Be collected; No more amazement: tell your piteous heart, There's no harm done.

Mira. Pro.

O, woe the day!

No harm.

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And rather like a dream than an assurance
That my remembrance warrants: Had I not
Four or five women once, that tended me?
Pro. Thou hadst, and more, Miranda: But how
is it,

That this lives in thy mind? What see'st thou else
In the dark backward and abysm of time?
If thou remember'st ought, ere thou cam'st here,
How thou cam'st here, thou may'st.
Mira.
But that I do not.
Pro. Twelve years since, Miranda, twelve years
since,

Thy father was the duke of Milan, and
A prince of power.

Mira.

Sir, are not you my father? Pro. Thy mother was a piece of virtue, and She said thou wast my daughter; and thy father Was duke of Milan; and his only heir A princess; no worse issued.

Mira.

O, the heavens ! What foul play had we, that we came from thence; Or blessed was't, we did?

Pro.

Both, both, my girl; By foul play, as thou say'st, were we heav'd thence; But blessedly holp hither.

Mira.

O, my heart bleeds To think o' the teen that I have turn'd you tc, Which is from my remembrance! Please you, fur

ther.

Pro. My brother, and thy uncle, call'd Antonio, —
I pray thee, mark me, that a brother should
Be so perfidious! -he whom, next thyself,
Of all the world I lov'd, and to him put
The manage of my state; as, at that time,
Through all the signiories it was the first,
And Prospero the prime duke; being so reputed
In dignity, and, for the liberal arts,
Without a parallel: those being all my study,
The government I cast upon my brother,

And to my state grew stranger, being transported,
And rapt in secret studies. Thy false uncle
Dost thou attend me?

Mira.

Sir, most heedfully. Pro. Being once perfected how to grant suits,

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O good sir, I do.

Pro. I thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicate To closeness, and the bettering of my mind With that, which, but by being so retired, O'er-priz'd all popular rate, in my false brother Awak'd an evil nature: and my trust, Like a good parent, did beget of him A falsehood, in its contrary as great As my trust was; which had, indeed, no limit, A confidence sans bound. He being thus lorded, Not only with what my revenue yielded, But what my power might else exact, Who having, unto truth, by telling of it, Made such a sinner of his memory, To credit his own lie,- he did believe He was the duke; out of the substitution, And executing the outward face of royalty, With all prerogative: - Hence his ambition Growing, Dost hear?

Mira.

like one,

Your tale, sir, would cure deafness. Pro. To have no screen between this part he play'd,

And him he play'd it for, he needs will be
Absolute Milan: Me, poor man!--my library
Was dukedom large enough; of temporal royalties
He thinks me now incapable: confederates
(So dry he was for sway) with the king of Naples,
To give him annual tribute, do him homage;
Subject his coronet to his crown, and bend
The dukedom, yet unbow'd, (alas, poor Milan !)
To most ignoble stooping.

Mira.

O the heavens!

Pro. Mark his condition, and the event; then tell me,

If this might be a brother.

I should sin

Mira.
To think but nobly of my grandmother :
Good wombs have borne bad sons.

Pro.
Now the condition.
This king of Naples, being an enemy
To me inveterate, hearkens my brother's suit;
Which was, that he in lieu o' the premises, -
Of homage, and I know not how much tribute, -
Should presently extirpate me and mine
Out of the dukedom; and confer fair Milan,
With all the honours, on my brother: Whereon,
A treacherous army levied, one midnight
Fated to the purpose, did Antonio open
The gates of Milan; and, i' the dead of darkness,
The ministers for the purpose hurried thence
Me, and thy crying self.

Mira.

Alack, for pity! I, not rememb'ring how I cry'd out then, Will cry it o'er again: it is a hint,

That wrings mine eyes.

Pro.

Hear a little further,

And then I'll bring thee to the present business Which now's upon us; without the which, this story Were most impertinent.

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My tale provokes that question. Dear, they durst

not;

(So dear the love my people bore me) nor set
A mark so bloody on the business; but
With colours fairer painted their foul ends.
In few, they hurried us aboard a bark;
Bore us some leagues to sea; where they prepar'd
A rotten carcase of a boat, not rigg'd,
Nor tackle, sail, nor mast; the very rats
Instinctively had quit it: there they hoist us,
To cry to the sea that roar'd to us; to sigh
To the winds, whose pity, sighing back again,
Did us but loving wrong.

Mira.

Was I then to you!

Pro.

Alack! what trouble

O! a cherubim

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Sit still, and hear the last of our sea-sorrow.
Here in this island we arrived; and here
Have I, thy school-master, made thee more profit
Than other princes can, that have more time
For vainer hours, and tutors not so careful.
Mira. Heavens thank you for't! And now, 1
pray you, sir,

(For still 'tis beating in my mind,) your reason
For raising this sea-storm?

Pro. Know thus far forth... By accident most strange, bountiful fortune, Now my dear lady, hath mine enemies Brought to this shore: and by my prescience

I find my zenith doth depend upon

A most auspicious star; whose influence

now I court not, but omit, my fortunes Will ever after droop. Here cease more questions, Thou art inclin'd to sleep; 'tis a good dulness, And give it way; - I know thou can'st not choose... [MIRANDA Sleep Come away, servant, come: I am ready now; Approach, my Ariel; come.

Enter ARIEL

Ari. All hail, great master! grave sir, hail! I

come

To answer thy best pleasure; be't to fly,

To swim, to dive into the fire, to ride
On the curl'd clouds; to thy strong bidding, task
Ariel, and all his quality.

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Of sulphurous roaring, the most mighty Neptune
Seem'd to besiege, and make his bold waves tremble,
Yea, his dread trident shake.

Pro.
My brave spirit!
Who was so firm, so constant, that this coil

Would not infect his reason?

Ari.
Not a soul
But felt a fever of the mad, and play'd
Some tricks of desperation: All, but mariners,
Plung'd in the foaming brine, and quit the vessel,
Then all a-fire with me: the king's son, Ferdinand,
With hair up-staring (then like reeds, not hair,)
Was the first man that leap'd; cried, Hell is empty,
And all the devils are here.

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Is the king's ship; in the deep nook, where once
Thou call'dst me up at midnight to fetch dew
From the still-vex'd Bermoothes, there she's hid:
The mariners all under hatches stow'd;
Whom, with a charm join'd to their suffer'd labour,
I have left asleep and for the rest o' the fleet,
Which I dispers'd, they all have met again;
And are upon the Mediterranean flote,
Bound sadly home for Naples;

Supposing that they saw the king's ship wreck'd,
And his great person perish.

Prv.

Ariel, thy charge Exactly is perform'd; but there's more work: What is the time o' the day?

Ar.

Past the mid season.

Pro. At least two glasses: The time 'twixt six

and now,

Must by us both be spent most preciously.

Told thee no lies, made no mistakings, serv'd
Without or grudge, or grumblings: thou didst

promise

To bate me a full year.

Pro.

Dost thou forget

No.

From what a torment I did free thee?
Ari.

Pro. Thou dost; and think'st
It much to tread the ooze of the salt deep;
To run upon the sharp wind of the north;
To do me business in the veins o' the earth,
When it is bak'd with frost

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Once in a month, recount what thou hast been,
Which thou forget'st. This damn'd witch, Sycorax,
For mischiefs manifold, and sorceries terrible
To enter human hearing, from Argier,
Thou know'st, was banish'd; for one thing she did,
They would not take her life: Is not this true?
Ari. Ay, sir.

Pro. This blue-ey'd hag was hither brought with
child,

And here was left by the sailors: Thou, my slave,
As thou report'st thyself, wast then her servant:
And, for thou wast a spirit too delicate
To act her earthy and abhorr'd commands,
Refusing her grand hests, she did confine thee,
By help of her more potent ministers,
And in her most unmitigable rage,
Into a cloven pine; within which rift
Imprison'd, thou did'st painfully remain
A dozen years; within which space she died,
And left thee there; where thou did'st vent thy

groans,

As fast as mill-wheels strike: Then was this island,
(Save for the son that she did litter here,

A freckled whelp, hag-born,) not honour'd with
A human shape.

Ari.

Yes; Caliban her son.
Pro. Dull thing, I say so; he, that Caliban,
Whom now I keep in service. Thou best know'st
What torment I did find thee in: thy groans
Did make wolves howl, and penetrate the breasts
Of ever-angry bears; it was a torment
To lay upon the damn'd, which Sycorax
Could not again undo; it was mine art,
When I arriv'd, and heard thee, that made gapo
The pine, and let thee out.

Ari.
I thank thee, master.
Pro. If thou more murmur'st, I will rend an oak,
And peg thee in his knotty entrails, till

Ari. Is there more toil? Since thou dost give Thou hast howl'd away twelve winters.

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Re-enter ARIEL invisible, playing and singing;
FERDINAND following him.
ARIEL'S Song.

Come unto these yellow sands,

And then take hands:

Court'sied when you have, and kiss'd,

(The wild waves whist,)

Foot it featly here and there;

And, sweet sprites, the burden bear.
Hark, hark!

Bur. Bowgh, wowgh.

The watch-dogs bark:

Bur. Bowgh, wowgh.

Hark, hark! I hear

The strain of strutting chanticlere
Cry, Cock-a-doodle-doo.

[dispersedly.

[dispersedly.

Fer. Where should this musick be? i' the air, or

the earth?

It sounds no more: -and sure it waits upon Some god of the island. Sitting on a bank This misick crept by me upon the waters; Weeping again the king my father's wreck, 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:

Hark! now I hear them,—ding-dong, bell.

[Burden, ding-dong.

Fer. The ditty does remember my drown'd fa

ther :

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