The Tempest by William Shakespeare (best adventure books to read .txt) 📕
Description
The Tempest, thought to be one of the last plays that Shakespeare wrote alone, begins with a storm which shipwrecks the king of Naples and his crew. We quickly learn that the tempest was not a natural occurence; it was created by Prospero, the usurped duke of Milan who is stranded on a nearby island, with the help of Ariel, a spirit in his service. The rest of the play explores the relationships between the shipwrecked crew, Prospero, his daughter Miranda, and a native of the island: a half human, half monster called Caliban.
Though this play is traditionally classified as a comedy, more modern scholarship, out of a desire to highlight the dramatic elements of some of Shakespeare’s comedies, created a genre subgroup called the “late romances.” The Tempest is included in that subgroup.
This Standard Ebooks production is based on William George Clark and William Aldis Wright’s 1887 Victoria edition, which is taken from the Globe edition.
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- Author: William Shakespeare
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Of every creature’s best! Miranda
I do not know
One of my sex; no woman’s face remember,
Save, from my glass, mine own; nor have I seen
More that I may call men than you, good friend,
And my dear father: how features are abroad,
I am skilless of; but, by my modesty,
The jewel in my dower, I would not wish
Any companion in the world but you,
Nor can imagination form a shape,
Besides yourself, to like of. But I prattle
Something too wildly and my father’s precepts
I therein do forget.
I am in my condition
A prince, Miranda; I do think, a king;
I would, not so!—and would no more endure
This wooden slavery than to suffer
The flesh-fly blow my mouth. Hear my soul speak:
The very instant that I saw you, did
My heart fly to your service; there resides,
To make me slave to it; and for your sake
Am I this patient log-man.
O heaven, O earth, bear witness to this sound
And crown what I profess with kind event
If I speak true! if hollowly, invert
What best is boded me to mischief! I
Beyond all limit of what else i’ the world
Do love, prize, honour you.
I am a fool
To weep at what I am glad of.
Fair encounter
Of two most rare affections! Heavens rain grace
On that which breeds between ’em!
At mine unworthiness that dare not offer
What I desire to give, and much less take
What I shall die to want. But this is trifling;
And all the more it seeks to hide itself,
The bigger bulk it shows. Hence, bashful cunning!
And prompt me, plain and holy innocence!
I am your wife, if you will marry me;
If not, I’ll die your maid: to be your fellow
You may deny me; but I’ll be your servant,
Whether you will or no.
My mistress, dearest;
And I thus humble ever.
Ay, with a heart as willing
As bondage e’er of freedom: here’s my hand.
And mine, with my heart in’t: and now farewell
Till half an hour hence.
So glad of this as they I cannot be,
Who are surprised withal; but my rejoicing
At nothing can be more. I’ll to my book,
For yet ere supper-time must I perform
Much business appertaining. Exit.
Another part of the island.
Enter Caliban, Stephano, and Trinculo. Stephano Tell not me; when the butt is out, we will drink water; not a drop before: therefore bear up, and board ’em. Servant-monster, drink to me. Trinculo Servant-monster! the folly of this island! They say there’s but five upon this isle: we are three of them; if th’ other two be brained like us, the state totters. Stephano Drink, servant-monster, when I bid thee: thy eyes are almost set in thy head. Trinculo Where should they be set else? he were a brave monster indeed, if they were set in his tail. Stephano My man-monster hath drown’d his tongue in sack: for my part, the sea cannot drown me; I swam, ere I could recover the shore, five and thirty leagues off and on. By this light, thou shalt be my lieutenant, monster, or my standard. Trinculo Your lieutenant, if you list; he’s no standard. Stephano We’ll not run, Monsieur Monster. Trinculo Nor go neither; but you’ll lie like dogs and yet say nothing neither. Stephano Moon-calf, speak once in thy life, if thou beest a good moon-calf. CalibanHow does thy honour? Let me lick thy shoe.
I’ll not serve him; he’s not valiant.
Thou liest, thou jesting monkey, thou:
I would my valiant master would destroy thee!
I do not lie.
I say, by sorcery he got this isle;
From me he got it. If thy greatness will
Revenge it on him—for I know thou darest,
But this thing dare not—
Yea, yea, my lord: I’ll yield him thee asleep,
Where thou mayst knock a nail into his head.
What a pied ninny’s this! Thou scurvy patch!
I do beseech thy greatness, give him blows
And take his bottle from him: when that’s gone
He shall drink nought but brine; for I’ll not show him
Where the quick freshes are.
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