But certainly a maid.

Fer

No wonder, sir;

My language! heavens!
I am the best of them that speak this speech,
Were I but where 'tis spoken.
Pres.
How? the best? 430
What wert thou, if the King of Naples heard thee?
Fer. A single thing, as I am now, that wonders
To hear thee speak of Naples. He does hear me;
And that he does 1 weep: myself am Naples,
Who with mine eyes, never since at ebb, beheld
The king my father wreck'd.

Mir.
Alack, for mercy!
Fer. Yes, faith, and all his lords; the Duke
of Milan

And his brave son being twain.
Pros.
[Aside] The Duke of Milan
And his more braver daughter could control thee,
If now 'twere fit to do't. At the first sight 440
They have changed eyes. Delicate Ariel,
I'll set thee free for this. [To Fer.] A word,
good sir;
[word.

I fear you have done yourself some wrong: a
Mir. Why speaks my father so ungently? This
Is the third man that e'er I saw, the first
That e'er I sigh'd for: pity move my father
To be inclined my way!

Fer.

O, if a virgin,

And
your affection not gone forth, I'll make you
The Queen of Naples.
Pros.

Soft, sir, one word more. [Aside] They are both in either's powers; but this swift business

450

I must uneasy make, lest too light winning Make the prize light. [To Fer.] One word more; I charge thee

That thou attend me: thou dost here usurp
The name thou owest not; and hast put thyself
Upon this island as a spy, to win it
From me, the lord on't.

Fer.

No. as I am a man.

[Draws, and is charmed from moving. Mir. O dear father, Make not too rash a trial of him, for He's gentle and not fearful. What! I say,

Pros.

My foot my tutor? Put thy sword up, traitor;
Who makest a show but darest not strike, thy
conscience
470
Is so possess'd with guilt: come from thy ward,
For I can here disarm thee with this stick
And make thy weapon drop.
Mir.
Beseech you, father.
Pros. Hence! hang not on my garments.
Mir.
Sir, have pity;
I'll be his surety.
Pros.
Silence! one word more
Shall make me chide thee, if not hate thee. What!
An advocate for an impostor! Hush! [he,
Thou think'st there is no more such shapes as
Having seen but him and Caliban: foolish wench!
To the most of men this is a Caliban,
And they to him are angels.

480

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 vigor in them.
Fer.
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.
Might I but through my prison once a day 490
Behold this maid: all corners else o' the 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.
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.

To the syllable. 500 Pros. Come, follow. Speak not for him. [Exeunt.

ACT II.

SCENE I. Another part of the island.

Enter ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, GON-
ZALO, ADRIAN, FRANCISCO, and others.
Gon. Beseech you, sir, be merry, you have

cause,

Gon. Sir,

Seb. One: tell.

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!

Seb. What if he had said 'widower Æneas' too? Good Lord, how you take it!

Adr. Widow Dido,' said you? you make me

offer'd,

Gon. This Tunis, sir, was Carthage.
Adr. Carthage?

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

Alon. I prithee, spare.

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.

Ant. The cockerel,

Seb. Done. The wager?

Ant. A laughter.

Seb. A match!

30

Aut. 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.

50

Seb. As if it had lungs and rotten ones.
Ant. Or as 'twere perfumed by a fen.
Gon. Here is everything 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.

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 vouched rarities are.

Gon. That our garments, being, as they were, drenched in the sea, hold notwithstanding their freshness and glosses, being rather newdved than stained with salt water. Ant. If but one of his pockets would speak, would it not say he lies?

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. 100 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?

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

110

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

121

'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. 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;
Where she at least is banish'd from your eye,
Who hath cause to wet the grief on't.
A lon.

Prithee, peace.

By all of us, and the fair soul herself
Weigh'd between loathness and obedience, at 130
Which end o' the beam should bow. We have
lost your son,

I fear, forever; Milan and Naples have
More widows in them of this business' making
Then we bring men to comfort them:
The fault's your own.
Alon.

So is the dear'st o' the loss.
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.

140

Ant. And most chirurgeonly.
Gon. It is foul weather in us all, good sir,

When you are cloudy.

Seb.

Foul weather?

Execute all things; for no kind of traffic
Would I admit; no name of magistrate:
Letters should not be known; riches, poverty,
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;
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 endeavor; treason, felony, 160
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? Ant. None, man: all idle: whores and knaves. Gon. I would with such perfection govern, sir, To excel the golden age. Seb. God save his majesty! Ant. Long live Gonzalo! Gon. And, do you mark me, sir? Alon. Prithee, no more: thou dost talk nothing to me. 171 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 you: so you may continue and laugh at nothing still.

180

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.

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

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 Seb. What a strange drowsiness possesses them!

Ant. It is the quality o' the climate. Seb. Why 200 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;
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
(and
What thou shouldst be; the occasion speaks thee,
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

211

ling,

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
With eyes wide open: standing, speaking, mov-
And yet so fast asleep.
Noble Sebastian,
Thou let'st thy fortune sleep-die, rather, wink'st
Whiles thou art waking.

Ant.

Seb. Thou dost snore distinctly; There's meaning in thy snores.

Ant. I am more serious than my custom; you Must be so too, if heed me; which to do 220 Trebles thee o'er.

Seb.
Well, I am standing water.
Ant. I'll teach you how to flow.
Seb.
Do so: to ebb

Hereditary sloth instructs me.
Ant.

If you but knew how you the purpose cherish
Whiles thus you mock it! how, in stripping it,
You more invest it! Ebbing men, indeed,
Most often do so near the bottom run
By their own fear or sloth.

Can have no note, unless the sun were postThe man i'the 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,

251

And by that destiny to perform an act
Whereof what's past is prologue, what to come
In yours and my discharge.

Seb. What stuff is this! how say you? 'Tis true, my brother's daughter'sQueen of Tunis; So is she heir of Naples: 'twixt which regions There is some space. Ant. Α space whose cubit every 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 seized them; why, they were no 261

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?

Seb. Methinks I do.
Ant.

And how does Tender your own good fortune?

Seb.

your content

I remember

You did supplant your brother Prospero. Ant.

270

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. Seb. But, for your conscience?

Ant. Ay, sir; where lies that? if'twere a kibe,

281

"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 ofit,
Can lay to bed forever; 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

Gon. Preserve the king.

[They wake. Alon. Why, how now? ho, awake! Why are you drawn? Wherefore this ghastly looking? Gon.

What's the matter? Seb. 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. I heard nothing. Ant. O, 'twas a din to fright a monster's ear, To make an earthquake! sure it was the roar

Alon.

Of a whole herd of lions.

A*