The Complete Works of William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare (moboreader .TXT) 📕

When he is earth’d, 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 undrown’d As he that sleeps here swims.

SEBASTIAN. I have no hope

That he’s undrown’d.

ANTONIO. O, out of that ‘no hope’

What great hope have you! No hope that way is Another way so high a hope, that even Ambition cannot pierce a wink beyond, But doubt discovery there. Will you grant with me That Ferdinand is drown’d?

SEBASTIAN. He’s gone.

ANTONIO. Then tell me,

Who’s the next heir of Naples?

SEBASTIAN. Claribel.

ANTONIO. 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’ th’ Moon’s too slow, till newborn chins Be rough and razorable; she that from whom We all were sea-swallow’d, 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.

SEBASTIAN. 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.

ANTONIO. A space whose ev’ry 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 seiz’d 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?

SEBASTIAN. Methinks I do.

ANTONIO. And how does your content

Tender your own good fortune?

SEBASTIAN. I remember

You did supplant your brother Prospero.

ANTONIO. True.

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.

SEBASTIAN. But, for your conscience—

ANTONIO. Ay, sir; where lies that? If ‘twere a kibe, ‘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, ere 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 for ever; 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.

SEBASTIAN. Thy case, dear friend,

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 payest; And I the King shall love thee.

ANTONIO. Draw together;

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

SEBASTIAN. O, but one word. [They talk apart]

Re-enter ARIEL, invisible, with music and song ARIEL. My master through his art foresees the danger That you, his friend, are in; and sends me forth-For else his project dies-to keep them living.

[Sings in GONZALO’S ear]

While you here do snoring lie,

Open-ey’d conspiracy

His time doth take.

If of life you keep a care,

Shake off slumber, and beware.

Awake, awake!

ANTONIO. Then let us both be sudden.

GONZALO. Now, good angels

Preserve the King! [They wake]

ALONSO. Why, how now?-Ho, awake!-Why are you drawn?

Wherefore this ghastly looking?

GONZALO. What’s the matter?

SEBASTIAN. Whiles we stood here securing your repose, Even now, we heard a hollow burst of bellowing Like bulls, or rather lions; did’t not wake you?

It struck mine ear most terribly.

ALONSO. I heard nothing.

ANTONIO. O, ‘twas a din to fright a monster’s ear, To make an earthquake! Sure it was the roar Of a whole herd of lions.

ALONSO. Heard you this, Gonzalo?

GONZALO. Upon mine honour, sir, I heard a humming, And that a strange one too, which did awake me; I shak’d you, sir, and cried; as mine eyes open’d, I saw their weapons drawn-there was a noise, That’s verily. ‘Tis best we stand upon our guard, Or that we quit this place. Let’s draw our weapons.

ALONSO. Lead off this ground; and let’s make further search

For my poor son.

GONZALO. Heavens keep him from these beasts!

For he is, sure, i’ th’ island.

ALONSO. Lead away.

ARIEL. Prospero my lord shall know what I have done; So, King, go safely on to seek thy son. Exeunt

SCENE 2

Another part of the island

Enter CALIBAN, with a burden of wood. A noise of thunder heard CALIBAN. 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’ th’ mire, Nor lead me, like a firebrand, in the dark Out of my way, unless he bid ‘em; but For every trifle are they set upon me; Sometime like apes that mow and chatter at me, And after bite me; then like hedgehogs which Lie tumbling in my barefoot way, and mount Their pricks at my footfall; sometime am I All wound with adders, who with cloven tongues Do hiss me into madness.

Enter TRINCULO

Lo, now, lo!

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.

TRINCULO. Here’s neither bush nor shrub to bear off any weather at all, and another storm brewing; I hear it sing i’ th’ wind. Yond same black cloud, yond huge one, looks like a foul bombard 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; 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. 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 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 STEPHANO. 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. [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’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]

CALIBAN. Do not torment me. O!

STEPHANO. What’s the matter? Have we devils here? Do you put tricks upon ‘s with savages and men of Ind? 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.

CALIBAN. The spirit torments me. O!

STEPHANO. 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.

CALIBAN. Do not torment me, prithee; I’ll bring my wood home faster.

STEPHANO. 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 for him; he shall pay for him that hath him, and that soundly.

CALIBAN. Thou dost me yet but little hurt; thou wilt anon, I know it by thy trembling; now Prosper works upon thee.

STEPHANO. Come on your ways; open your mouth; here is that which will give language to you, cat. 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.

TRINCULO. I should know that voice; it should be-but he is drown’d; and these are devils. O, defend me!

STEPHANO. Four legs and two voices; a most delicate monster!

His forward voice, 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! I will pour some in thy other mouth.

TRINCULO. Stephano!

STEPHANO. Doth thy other mouth call me? Mercy, mercy!

This is a devil, and no monster; I will leave him; I have no long spoon.

TRINCULO. Stephano! If thou beest Stephano, touch me, and speak to me; for I am Trinculo-be not afeard-thy good friend Trinculo.

STEPHANO. If thou beest Trinculo, come forth; I’ll pull the 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 moon-calf? Can he vent Trinculos?

TRINCULO. I took him to be kill’d with a thunderstroke.

But art thou not drown’d, Stephano? I hope now thou are not drown’d. 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!

STEPHANO. Prithee, do not turn me about; my stomach is not constant.

CALIBAN. [Aside] These be fine things, an if they be not sprites.

That’s a brave god, and bears celestial liquor.

I will kneel to him.

STEPHANO. How didst thou scape? How cam’st thou hither?

Swear by this bottle how thou cam’st hither-I escap’d upon a butt of sack, which the sailors heaved o’erboard-by this bottle, which I made of the bark of a tree, with mine own hands, since I was cast ashore.

CALIBAN. I’ll swear upon that bottle to be thy true subject, for the liquor is not earthly.

STEPHANO. Here; swear then how thou escap’dst.

TRINCULO. Swum ashore, man, like a duck; I can swim like a duck, I’ll be sworn.

STEPHANO. [Passing the bottle] Here, kiss the book. Though thou canst swim like