Are then most humble; I have no ambition

So they are:

To see a goodlier man.
Pro.
Come on; obey: [To FERD.
Thy nerves are in their infancy again,
And have no vigour in them.
Fer.
My spirits, as in a dream, are all bound up. 85)
My father's loss, the weakness which I feel,
The wreck of all my friends, or this man's threats,
To whom I am subdued, are but light to me, 86)
Might I but through my prison once a day
Behold this maid: all corners else o'the earth
Let liberty make use of; space enough
Have I, in such a prison.

Pro. It works: Come on.

-

Thou hast done well, fine Ariel! Follow me.FERD. and MIRA.

[To

Hark, what thou else shalt do me. Mira.

[To ARIEL. Be of comfort;

My father's of a better nature, sir,
Than he appears by speech; this is unwonted,
Which now came from him.

Pro.

Thou shalt be as free As mountain winds; but then exactly do All points of my command. Ari.

To the syllable. Pro. Come, follow: speak not for him.

ACT II.

[Exeunt.

SCENE I. Another part of the Island. Enter ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, GONZALO, ADRIAN, FRANCISCO, and others.

Gon. 'Beseech you, sir, be merry: you have cause (So have we all) of joy; for our escape Is much beyond our loss: Our hint of woe 1) Is common; every day, some sailor's wife, The masters of some merchant, 2) and the merchant, Have just our theme of woe: but for the miracle, 3) mean our preservation, few in millions

Can speak like us: then wisely, good sir, weigh Our sorrow with our comfort.

Alon.

Pr'ythee, peace. Seb. He receives comfort like cold porridge. Ant. The visitor ") will not give him o'er so. Seb. Look, he's winding up the watch of his wit; By and by it will strike.

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. Fye, what a spendthrift is he of his tongue!
Alon. I pr'ythee spare.

Gon. Well, I have done: But yet
Seb. He will be talking.

Ant. Which of them, he, or Adrian, for a good wager, first begins to crow?

Seb. The old cock.

Ant. The cockrel.

Seb. Done: the wager? Ant. A laughter.

Seb. A match.

Adr. Though this island seem to be desert, Seb. Ha, ha, ha!

Ant. So, you've pay’d. 5)

Adr. Uninhabitable, and almost inaccessible, Seb. Yet,

Adr. Yet

Ant. He could not miss it.

Adr. It must needs be of subtle, tender, and delicate temperance. ')

Ant. Temperance was a delicate wench. 7)

Seb. Ay, and a subtle; as he most learnedly delivered.

Adr. The air breathes upon us here most sweetly.
Seb. As if it had lungs, and rotten ones.
Ant. Or, as 'twere perfumed by a fen.

Gon. Here is every thing advantageous to life.

Ant. True; save means to live.

Seb. Of that there's none, or little.

Gon. How lush ) and lusty the grass looks? how green?

Ant. The ground, indeed, is tawny.

Seb. With an eye of green in't. 9)

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 speak, 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 Africk, at the marriage of the king's fair daughter Claribel 10) to the king of Tunis.

Seb. 'Twas a sweet marriage, and we prosper 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. Widow? a pox o'that! How came that widow in? Widow Dido! 11)

Seb. What if he had said, widower Eneas 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. Adr. Carthage?

Gon. I assure yon, Carthage.

Ant. His word is more than the miraculous harp. 12) Seb. He hath rais'd the wall, and houses too. Ant. What impossible matter will he make easy next? Seb. I think he will carry this island home in his pocket, and give it his son for an apple.

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. Ant. O, widow Dido; ay, 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, against
The stomach of my sense: 13) 'Would I had never
Married my daughter there! for, coming thence,
My son is lost; and, in my rate, she too,
Who is so far from Italy remov'd,

I ne'er again shall see her. O thou mine heir
Of Naples and of Milan, what strange fish
Hath made his meal on thee!
Fran.

Sir, he may live;
I saw him beat the surges under him,
And ride upon their backs; he trod the water,
Whose enmity he flung aside, and breasted
The surge most swoln that met him; his bold head
'Bove the contentious waves he kept, and oar'd
Himself with his good arms in lusty stroke

To the shore, that o'er his wave-worn basis bow'd,
As stooping to relieve him; I not doubt,
He came alive to land.
Alon.

No, no, he's gone.

Seb.

Ant. And most chirurgeonly.

Very well.

Gon. It is foul weather in us all, good sir,

When you are cloudy.

Seb.

Ant.

Foul weather?

Very foul.

Gon. Had I plantation of this isle, my lord,
Ant. He'd sow it with nettle-seed.
Seb.
Or docks, or mallows.
Gon. And were the king of it, What would I do?
Seb. 'Scape being drunk, for want of wine.
Gon. I'the commonwealth I would by contraries
Execute all things: for no kind of traffick
Would I admit; no name of magistrate;

Letters should not be known; 16 no use of service,
Of riches or of poverty; no contracts,
Successions; bound of land, tilth, vineyard, none:
No use of metal, corn, or wine, or oil;
No occupation; all men idle, all;

And women too; but innocent and pure:
No sovereignty:

Seb.
And yet he would be king on't.
Ant. The latter end of his commonwealth forgets
the beginning. 17)

Gon. All things in common nature should produce,
Without sweat or endeavour: treason, felony,
Sword, pike, knife, gun, or need of any engine, 18)
Would I not have; but nature should bring forth,
Of its own kind, all foizon, 19) all abundance,
To feed my innocent people.

Seb. No marrying 'mong his subjects?
Ant. None, man: all idle; whores, and knaves.
Gon. I would with such perfection govern, sir,
To excel the golden age.
Seb.

'Save his majesty!

Ant. Long live Gonzalo! Gon. And, do you mark me, sir? Alon. Pr'ythee, no more: thou dost talk nothing to me. 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?
Seb. An it had not fallen flat-long.

Gon. You are gentlemen of brave mettle: you would lift the moon out of her sphere, if she would continue in it five weeks without changing.

Enter ARIEL invisible, playing solemn musick. 20) Seb. We would so, and then go a bat-fowling. Ant. Nay, good my lord, be not angry. Gon. No, I 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:
It seldom visits sorrow; when it doth,
It is a comforter.
Ant.

We two, my lord,

Will guard your person, while you take your rest,
And watch your safety.
Alon.

Thank you: wondrous heavy. -
[ALONZO sleeps. Exit ARIEL.
Seb. What a strange drowsiness possesses them!
Ant. It is the quality o'the climate.
Seb.
Doth it not then our eyelids sink? I find not
Myself dispos'd to sleep.

Why

Ant. Nor I; my spirits are nimble. They fell together all, as by consent; They dropp'd, as by a thunder-stroke. What might, Worthy Sebastian? — O, what might? -- No more: — And yet, methinks, I see it in thy face, What thou should'st be: the occasion speaks thee; and My strong imagination sees a crown Dropping upon thy head. Seb.

What, art thou waking? Ant. Do you not hear me speak? Seb.

I do; and surely,

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 fire-brand, 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 41) and chatter at me, And after, bite me; then like hedge-hogs, which Lie tumbling in my bare-foot way, and mount Their pricks 42) at my foot-fall; sometimes am I All wound with adders, 43) 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 44) 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 chuse 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, 45) not a holiday fool there but would give a piece of silver: there would this monster make a man; 4) 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 thunder-bolt. [Thunder.] Alas! the storm is come again: my best way is to creep under his gaberdine; 47) 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 dye a-shore; -

This is a very scurvy tune to sing at a man's funeral:
Well, here's my comfort.

[Drinks. The master, the swabber, the boatswain, and I, The gunner, and his mate,

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:
She lov'd not the savour of tar nor of pitch,
Yet a tailor might scratch her where-e'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, 48) 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 49) 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; 5") Now Prosper works upon thee.

Ste. Come on your ways; open your mouth: here is that which will give language to you, cat; 51) 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! His forward voice 52) now is to speak well of his friend; his backward voice is to utter foul speeches, and to detract. If all the wine in my bottle will recover him, I will help his ague: Come, Amen! 53) I will pour some in thy other mouth. Trin. Stephano,

Trin. Stephano!

Ste. Doth thy other mouth call me? Mercy! mercy! This a devil, and no monster: I will leave him; I have no long spoon. 54) if thou beest Stephano, touch me, and speak to me; for I am Trinculo; be not afeard, thy good friend Trinculo. Ste. If thou beest Trinculo, come forth; I'll pull 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 mooncalf? 55) Can he vent Trinculos?

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:

I will kneel to him.

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 over-board, by this bottle! which I made of the bark of a tree, with mine own hands, since I was cast a-shore.

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. 56) 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?