The Tempest by William Shakespeare (classic romance novels txt) 📕
Mir. Would I might But ever see that man!
Pros. Now I arise: [Resumes his mantle. Sit still, and hear the last of our sea-sorrow. 170 Here in this island we arrived; and here Have I, thy schoolmaster, made thee more profit Than other princesses can, that have more time For vainer hours, and tutors not so careful.
Mir. Heavens thank you for't! And now, I pray you, sir, 175 For still 'tis beating in my mind, your reason For raising this sea-storm?
Pros. 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 180 I find my zenith doth depend upon A most auspicious star, whose influence If now I court not, but omit, my fortunes Will ever after droop. Here cease more questions: Thou art inclined to sleep; 'tis a good dulness, 185 And give it way: I know thou canst not choose
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480 To the most of men this is a Caliban,
And they to him are angels.
Mir.
My affections
Are, then, most humble; I have no ambition
To see a goodlier man.
Pros.
Come on; obey:
Thy nerves are in their infancy again,
And have no vigour in them.
Fer.
485 So they are:
My spirits, as in a dream, are all bound up.
My father’s loss, the weakness which I feel,
The wreck of all my friends, nor this man’s threats,
To whom I am subdued, are but light to me,
490 Might I but through my prison once a day
Behold this maid: all corners else o’ th’ earth
Let liberty make use of; space enough
Have I in such a prison.
Pros. [Aside]
It works. [To Fer.] Come on.
Thou hast done well, fine Ariel! [To Fer.] Follow me.
[To Ari.] Hark what thou else shalt do me.
Mir.
495 Be of comfort;
My father’s of a better nature, sir,
Than he appears by speech: this is unwonted
Which now came from him.
Pros.
Thou shalt be as free
As mountain winds: but then exactly do
All points of my command.
Ari.
I. 2. 500 To the syllable.
Pros. Come, follow. Speak not for him. Exeunt.
ACT II. II. 1 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
Is common; every day, some sailor’s wife,
5 The masters of some merchant, and the merchant,
Have just our theme of woe; but for the miracle,
I mean our preservation, few in millions
Can speak like us: then wisely, good sir, weigh
Our sorrow with our comfort.
Alon.
Prithee, peace.
10 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,—
15 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 20 truer than you purposed.
Seb. You have taken it wiselier than I meant you should.
Gon. Therefore, my lord,—
Ant. Fie, what a spendthrift is he of his tongue!
Alon. I prithee, spare.
II. 1. 25 Gon. Well, I have done: but yet,—
Seb. He will be talking.
Ant. Which, of he or Adrian, for a good wager, first begins to crow?
Seb. The old cock.
30 Ant. The cockerel.
Seb. Done. The wager?
Ant. A laughter.
Seb. A match!
Adr. Though this island seem to be desert,—
35 Seb. Ha, ha, ha!—So, you’re paid.
Adr. Uninhabitable, and almost inaccessible,—
Seb. Yet,—
Adr. Yet,—
Ant. He could not miss’t.
40 Adr. It must needs be of subtle, tender and delicate temperance.
Ant. Temperance was a delicate wench.
Seb. Ay, and a subtle; as he most learnedly delivered.
Adr. The air breathes upon us here most sweetly.
45 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.
II. 1. 50 Gon. How lush and lusty the grass looks! how green!
Ant. The ground, indeed, is tawny.
Seb. With an eye of green in’t.
Ant. He misses not much.
Seb. No; he doth but mistake the truth totally.
55 Gon. But the rarity of it is,—which is indeed almost beyond credit,—
Seb. As many vouched rarities are.
Gon. That our garments, being, as they were, drenched in the sea, hold, notwithstanding, their freshness and glosses, 60 being rather new-dyed than stained 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 65 we put them on first in Afric, at the marriage of the king’s fair daughter Claribel 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 70 to their queen.
Gon. Not since widow Dido’s time.
Ant. Widow! a pox o’ that! How came that widow in? widow Dido!
Seb. What if he had said ‘widower Æneas’ too? Good II. 1. 75 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?
80 Gon. I assure you, Carthage.
Seb. His word is more than the miraculous harp; he hath raised 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 85 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.
90 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.
95 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 fished for.
Gon. When I wore it at your daughter’s marriage?
II. 1. 100 Alon. You cram these words into mine ears against
The stomach of my sense. 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 removed
105 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.
110 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,
115 As stooping to relieve him: I not doubt
He came alive to land.
Alon.
No, no, he’s gone.
Seb. Sir, you may thank yourself for this great loss,
That would not bless our Europe with your daughter,
But rather lose her to an African;
120 Where she, at least, is banish’d from your eye,
Who hath cause to wet the grief on’t.
Alon.
Prithee, peace.
Seb. You were kneel’d to, and importuned otherwise,
By all of us; and the fair soul herself
Weigh’d between loathness and obedience, at
II. 1. 125 Which end o’ the beam should bow. We have lost your son,
I fear, for ever: Milan and Naples have
More widows in them of this business’ making
Than we bring men to comfort them:
The fault’s your own.
Alon.
So is the dear’st o’ the loss.
130 Gon. My lord Sebastian,
The truth you speak doth lack some gentleness,
And time to speak it in: you rub the sore,
When you should bring the plaster.
Seb.
Very well.
Ant. And most chirurgeonly.
135 Gon. It is foul weather in us all, good sir,
When you are cloudy.
Seb.
Foul weather?
Ant.
Very foul.
Gon. Had I plantation of this isle, my lord,—
Ant. He’ld sow’t with nettle-seed.
Seb.
Or docks, or mallows.
Gon. And were the king on’t, what would I do?
140 Seb. ’Scape being drunk for want of wine.
Gon. I’ the commonwealth I would by contraries
Execute all things; for no kind of traffic
Would I admit; no name of magistrate;
Letters should not be known; riches, poverty,
145 And use of service, none; contract, succession,
Bourn, 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;
II. 1. 150 No sovereignty;—
Seb.
Yet he would be king on’t.
Ant. The latter end of his commonwealth forgets the beginning.
Gon. All things in common nature should produce
Without sweat or endeavour: treason, felony,
155 Sword, pike, knife, gun, or need of any engine,
Would I not have; but nature should bring forth,
Of its own kind, all foison, all abundance,
To feed my innocent people.
Seb. No marrying ’mong his subjects?
160 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. Prithee, no more: thou dost talk nothing to me.
165 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 laughed at.
Gon. Who in this kind of merry fooling am nothing to 170 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 II. 1. 175 five weeks without changing.
Enter Ariel (invisible) playing solemn music.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 180 heavy?
Ant. Go sleep, and hear us.
All sleep except 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 inclined to do so.
Seb.
Please you, sir,
185 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.
Alonso sleeps. Exit Ariel.
190 Seb. What a strange drowsiness possesses them!
Ant. It is the quality o’ the climate.
Seb.
Why
Doth it not then our eyelids sink? I find not
Myself disposed to sleep.
Ant.
Nor I; my spirits are nimble.
They fell together all, as by consent;
195 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 shouldst be: the occasion speaks thee; and
My strong imagination sees a crown
Dropping upon thy head.
Seb.
II. 1. 200 What, art thou waking?
Ant. Do you not hear me speak?
Seb.
I do; and surely
It is a sleepy language, and thou speak’st
Out of thy sleep. What is it thou didst say?
This is a strange repose, to be asleep
205 With eyes wide open; standing, speaking, moving,
And yet so fast asleep.
Ant.
Noble Sebastian,
Thou
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