The Tempest
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The Tempest (written c.1610-1612) by William Shakespeare
Contents |
Dramatis Personae (Persons represented)
- Alonso, King of Naples
- Sebastian, his brother
- Prospero, the right Duke of Milan
- Antonio, his brother, the usurping Duke of Milan
- Ferdinand, son to the King of Naples
- Miranda, daughter to Prospero
- Gonzalo, An Honest Old Counsellor
- Adrian, Lord
- Francisco,Lord
- Caliban, a savage and deformed Slave
- Trinculo, a Jester
- Stephano, a drunken Butler
- Master of a ship
- Boatswain
- Mariners
- Ariel, an airy Spirit
- Iris, presented by Spirits
- Ceres, presented by Spirits
- Juno, presented by Spirits
- Nymphs, presented by Spirits
- Reapers, presented by Spirits
- Other Spirits attending on Prospero
Act I, Scene 1
Antonio: Where is the master, boson?
Boatswain: Do you not hear him? You mar our labour; keep your cabins; you do assist the storm.
Gonzalo: Nay, good, be patient.
Boatswain: When the sea is. Hence! What cares these roarers for the name of king? To cabin! silence! Trouble us not.
Gonzalo: Good, yet remember whom thou hast aboard.
Boatswain: None that I more love than myself. You are counsellor; if you can command these elements to silence, and work the peace of the present, we will not hand a rope more. Use your authority; if you cannot, give thanks you have liv'd so long, and make yourself ready in your cabin for the mischance of the hour, if it so hap.
Gonzalo: I have great comfort from this fellow. Methinks he hath no drowning mark upon him; his complexion is perfect gallows. Stand fast, good Fate, to his hanging; make the rope of his destiny our cable, for our own doth little advantage. If he be not born to be hang'd, our case is miserable.
Antonio: Hang, cur; hang, you whoreson, insolent noisemaker; we are less afraid to be drown'd than thou art.
Gonzalo: I'll warrant him for drowning, though the ship were no stronger than a nutshell, and as leaky as an unstanched wench.
Gonzalo: Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea for an acre of barren ground-long heath, brown furze, any thing. The wills above be done, but I would fain die dry death.
Act I, Scene 2
Miranda: If by your art, my dearest father, you have Put the wild waters in this roar, allay them. The sky, it seems, would pour down stinking pitch, But that the sea, mounting to th' welkin's cheek, Dashes the fire out. O, I have suffered With those that I saw suffer! A brave vessel, Who had no doubt some noble creature in her, Dash'd all to pieces! O, the cry did knock Against my very heart! Poor souls, they perish'd. Had I been any god of power, I would Have sunk the sea within the earth or ere It should the good ship so have swallow'd and The fraughting souls within her.
Prospero: Be collected; No more amazement; tell your piteous heart There's no harm done.
Miranda: O, woe the day!
Prospero: No harm. I have done nothing but in care of thee, of thee, my dear one, thee, my daughter, who art ignorant of what thou art, nought knowing of whence I am, nor that I am more better than Prospero, master of a full poor cell, and thy no greater father.
Prospero: Wipe thou thine eyes; have comfort. The direful spectacle of the wreck, which touch'd the very virtue of compassion in thee, I have with such provision in mine art so safely ordered that there is no soul— no, not so much perdition as an hair betid to any creature in the vessel which thou heard'st cry, which thou saw'st sink. Sit down, for thou must now know farther.
Miranda: You have often Begun to tell me what I am; but stopp'd, And left me to a bootless inquisition, Concluding 'Stay; not yet.'
Prospero: The hour's now come; The very minute bids thee ope thine ear.
Prospero: Tell me, that hath kept with thy remembrance?
Miranda: 'Tis far off, And rather like a dream than an assurance that my remembrance warrants. Had I not four, or five, women once, that tended me?
Prospero: Thou hadst, and more, Miranda. But how is it that this lives in thy mind? What seest thou else In the dark backward and abysm of time?
Prospero: The government I cast upon my brother and to my state grew stranger, being transported and rapt in secret studies.
Prospero: I pray thee, mark me. I thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicated To closeness and the bettering of my mind with that which, but by being so retir'd, o'er-priz'd all popular rate, in my false brother Awak'd an evil nature; and my trust, Like a good parent, did beget of him A falsehood, in its contrary as great As my trust was; which had indeed no limit, A confidence sans bound.
Prospero: Me, poor man-my library was dukedom large enough-of temporal royalties he thinks me now incapable; confederates, So dry he was for sway, wi' th' King of Naples, to give him annual tribute, do him homage, subject his coronet to his crown, and bend the dukedom, yet unbow'd-alas, poor Milan!— to most ignoble stooping.
Miranda: How came we ashore?
Prospero: By Providence divine. Some food we had and some fresh water that a noble Neapolitan, Gonzalo, out of his charity, who being then appointed master of this design, did give us, with rich garments, linens, stuffs, and necessaries, which since have steaded much; so, of his gentleness, knowing I lov'd my books, he furnish'd me From mine own library with volumes that I prize above my dukedom.
Prospero: 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 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.
Ariel: All hail, great master! grave sir, hail! I come to answer thy best pleasure; be't to fly, to swim, to dive into the fire, to ride on the curl'd clouds. To thy strong bidding task Ariel and all his quality.
Ariel: Ferdinand, with hair up-staring-then like reeds, not hair— was the first man that leapt; cried 'Hell is empty, And all the devils are here.'
Prospero: Go make thyself like a nymph o' th' sea; be subject To no sight but thine and mine, invisible To every eyeball else. Go take this shape, And hither come in 't. Go, hence with diligence!
Caliban: As wicked dew as e'er my mother brush'd With raven's feather from unwholesome fen Drop on you both! A south-west blow on ye And blister you all o'er!
Prospero: For this, be sure, to-night thou shalt have cramps, Side-stitches that shall pen thy breath up; urchins Shall, for that vast of night that they may work, All exercise on thee; thou shalt be pinch'd As thick as honeycomb, each pinch more stinging Than bees that made 'em.
Caliban: I must eat my dinner. This island's mine, by Sycorax my mother, Which thou tak'st from me. When thou cam'st first, Thou strok'st me and made much of me, wouldst give me Water with berries in't, and teach me how To name the bigger light, and how the less, That burn by day and night; and then I lov'd thee, And show'd thee all the qualities o' th' isle, The fresh springs, brine-pits, barren place and fertile. Curs'd be I that did so! All the charms Of Sycorax, toads, beetles, bats, light on you! For I am all the subjects that you have, Which first was mine own king; and here you sty me In this hard rock, whiles you do keep from me The rest o' th' island.
Prospero: Thou most lying slave, Whom stripes may move, not kindness! I have us'd thee, Filth as thou art, with human care, and lodg'd thee In mine own cell, till thou didst seek to violate The honour of my child.
Caliban: O ho, O ho! Would't had been done. Thou didst prevent me; I had peopl'd else This isle with Calibans.
Miranda: Abhorred slave, Which any print of goodness wilt not take, Being capable of all ill! I pitied thee, Took pains to make thee speak, taught thee each hour One thing or other. When thou didst not, savage, Know thine own meaning, but wouldst gabble like A thing most brutish, I endow'd thy purposes With words that made them known. But thy vile race, Though thou didst learn, had that in't which good natures Could not abide to be with; therefore wast thou Deservedly confin'd into this rock, who hadst Deserv'd more than a prison.
Caliban: You taught me language, and my profit on't is, I know how to curse. The red plague rid you for learning me your language!
Caliban: I must obey. His art is of such pow'r, It would control my dam's god, Setebos, And make a vassal of him.
Ariel's Song
This famous passage is referenced in T. S. Eliot's The Waste Land
Come unto these yellow sands,
And then take hands;
Curtsied when you have and kiss'd,
The wild waves whist,
Foot it featly here and there,
And, sweet sprites, the burden bear.
Hark, hark! The watch dogs bark.
Hark, hark! I hear The strain of strutting chanticleer
Cry, Cock-a-diddle-dow.
Full fathom five thy father lies;
Of his bones are coral made;
Those are pearls that were his eyes;
Nothing of him that doth fade
But doth suffer a sea-change
Into something rich and strange.
Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell:
Hark! now I hear them-Ding-dong bell.
Miranda: What is't? a spirit? Lord, how it looks about! Believe me, sir, It carries a brave form. But 'tis a spirit.
Prospero: No, wench; it eats and sleeps and hath such senses as we have, such. This gallant which thou seest was in the wreck; and but he's something stain'd with grief, that's beauty's canker, thou mightst call him a goodly person. He hath lost his fellows, And strays about to find 'em.
Miranda: I might call him A thing divine; for nothing natural I ever saw so noble.
Prospero: It goes on, I see, as my soul prompts it. Spirit, fine spirit! I'll free thee within two days for this.
Ferdinand: My prime request, Which I do last pronounce, is, O you wonder! If you be maid or no?
Miranda: No wonder, sir; But certainly a maid.
Ferdinand: My language? Heavens! I am the best of them that speak this speech, were I but where 'tis spoken.
Prospero: How? the best? What wert thou, if the King of Naples heard thee?
Ferdinand: A single thing, as I am now, that wonders to hear thee speak of Naples. He does hear me; And that he does I weep. Myself am Naples, Who with mine eyes, never since at ebb, beheld The King my father wreck'd.
Miranda: 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 inclin'd my way!
Ferdinand: O, if a virgin, and your affection not gone forth, I'll make you The Queen of Naples.
Prospero: They are both in either's pow'rs; but this swift busines I must uneasy make, lest too light winning Make the prize light.
Prospero: Thou think'st there is no more such shapes as he, Having seen but him and Caliban. Foolish wench! To th' most of men this is a Caliban, And they to him are angels.
Miranda: My affections Are then most humble; I have no ambition To see a goodlier man.
Ferdinand: 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 subdu'd, are but light to me, 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.
Act II, Scene 1
Gonzalo: 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, 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.
Gonzalo: Here is everything advantageous to life.
Antonio: True; save means to live.
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!
Act II, Scene 2
Caliban: All the infections that the sun sucks up From bogs, fens, flats, on Prospero 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.
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: Hast thou not dropp'd from heaven?
Stephano: Out o' th' moon, I do assure thee; I was the Man i' th' Moon, when time was.
Caliban: I have seen thee in her, and I do adore thee. My mistress show'd me thee, and thy dog and thy bush.
Stephano: Come, swear to that; kiss the book. I will furnish it anon with new contents. Swear. [CALIBAN drinks]
Trinculo: By this good light, this is a very shallow monster! I afeard of him! A very weak monster! The Man i' th' Moon! A most poor credulous monster! Well drawn, monster, in good sooth!
Caliban: I'll show thee every fertile inch o' th' island; and will kiss thy foot. I prithee be my god.
Trinculo: By this light, a most perfidious and drunken monster! When's god's asleep he'll rob his bottle.
Caliban: I'll kiss thy foot; I'll swear myself thy subject.
Stephano: Come on, then; down, and swear.
Trinculo: I shall laugh myself to death at this puppy-headed monster. A most scurvy monster!
Act III, Scene 1
Ferdinand: There be some sports are painful, and their labour delight in them sets off; some kinds of baseness are nobly undergone, and most poor matters point to rich ends. This my mean task would be as heavy to me as odious, but the mistress which I serve quickens what's dead, and makes my labours pleasures. O, she is ten times more gentle than her father's crabbed; and he's compos'd of harshness.
Miranda: If you'll sit down, I'll bear your logs the while; pray give me that; I'll carry it to the pile.
Ferdinand: No, precious creature; I had rather crack my sinews, break my back, than you should such dishonour undergo, while I sit lazy by.
Miranda: It would become me as well as it does you; and I should do it with much more ease; for my good will is to it, and yours it is against.
Ferdinand: Admir'd Miranda! What's dearest to the world! Full many a lady I have ey'd with best regard; and many a time th' harmony of their tongues hath into bondage brought my too diligent ear; for several virtues have I lik'd several women, never any with so full soul, but some defect in her did quarrel with the noblest grace she ow'd, and put it to the foil; but you, O you, so perfect and so peerless, are created 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.
Miranda: Do you love me?
Ferdinand: 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' th' world, Do love, prize, honour you.
Miranda: I am a fool to weep at what I am glad of.
Ferdinand: Wherefore weep you?
Miranda: 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.
Ferdinand: My mistress, dearest; And I thus humble ever.
Miranda: My husband, then?
Ferdinand: Ay, with a heart as willing As bondage e'er of freedom. Here's my hand.
Miranda: And mine, with my heart in't.
Act III, Scene 2
Caliban: How does thy honour? Let me lick thy shoe. I'll not serve him; he is not valiant.
Caliban: As I told thee before, I am subject to a tyrant, sorcerer, that by his cunning hath cheated me of the island.
Ariel: Thou liest.
Caliban: Thou liest, thou jesting monkey, thou; I would my valiant master would destroy thee. I do not lie.
Caliban: Why, as I told thee, 'tis a custom with him I' th' afternoon to sleep; there thou mayst brain him, Having first seiz'd his books; or with a log Batter his skull, or paunch him with a stake, Or cut his wezand with thy knife. Remember first to possess his books; for without them he's but a sot, as I am, nor hath not one spirit to command; they all do hate him as rootedly as I. Burn but his books. He has brave utensils-for so he calls them— Which, when he has a house, he'll deck withal. And that most deeply to consider is the beauty of his daughter; he himself calls her a nonpareil. I never saw a woman but only sycorax my dam and she; but she as far surpasseth sycorax as great'st does least.
Stephano: Flout 'em and scout 'em,
And scout 'em and flout 'em; Thought is free.
Caliban: Be not afeard. The isle is full of noises, Sounds, and sweet airs, that give delight, and hurt not. Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments will hum about mine ears; and sometimes voices, that, if I then had wak'd after long sleep, will make me sleep again; and then, in dreaming, the clouds methought would open and show riches ready to drop upon me, that, when I wak'd, I cried to dream again.
Act III, Scene 3
Gonzalo: By'r lakin, I can go no further, sir; My old bones ache. Here's a maze trod, indeed, Through forth-rights and meanders! By your patience, I needs must rest me.
Alonso: Give us kind keepers, heavens! What were these?
Sebastian: A living drollery. Now I will believe that there are unicorns; that in Arabia there is one tree, the phoenix' throne, one phoenix at this hour reigning-there.
Antonio: I'll believe both; And what does else want credit, come to me, And I'll be sworn 'tis true; travellers ne'er did lie, Though fools at home condemn 'em.
Alonso: I will stand to, and feed, Although my last; no matter, since I feel the best is past.
Ariel: You are three men of sin, whom Destiny, that hath to instrument this lower world and what is in't, the never-surfeited sea hath caus'd to belch up you; and on this island where man doth not inhabit— you 'mongst men being most unfit to live. I have made you mad; and even with such-like valour men hang and drown their proper selves. [Alonso, Sebastian etc., draw their swords] You fools! I and my fellows are ministers of Fate; the elements Of whom your swords are temper'd may as well wound the loud winds, or with bemock'd-at stabs kill the still-closing waters, as diminish one dowle that's in my plume; my fellow-ministers are like invulnerable. If you could hurt, your swords are now too massy for your strengths and will not be uplifted.
Prospero: My high charms work, And these mine enemies are all knit up In their distractions. They now are in my pow'r; and in these fits I leave them, while I visit Young Ferdinand, whom they suppose is drown'd, and his and mine lov'd darling.
Alonso: O, it is monstrous, monstrous! Methought the billows spoke, and told me of it; The winds did sing it to me; and the thunder, That deep and dreadful organ-pipe, pronounc'd The name of Prospero; it did bass my trespass. Therefore my son i' th' ooze is bedded; and I'll seek him deeper than e'er plummet sounded, and with him there lie mudded.
Act IV, Scene 1
Prospero: If I have too austerely punish'd you, Your compensation makes amends; for have given you here a third of mine own life, or that for which I live; who once again I tender to thy hand. All thy vexations were but my trials of thy love, and thou hast strangely stood the test; here, afore heaven, I ratify this my rich gift. O Ferdinand! Do not smile at me that I boast her off, for thou shalt find she will outstrip all praise, and make it halt behind her.
Ferdinand: I do believe it against an oracle.
Ferdinand: As I hope For quiet days, fair issue, and long life, with such love as 'tis now, the murkiest den, the most opportune place, the strong'st suggestion our worser genius can, shall never melt mine honour into lust, to take away the edge of that day's celebration, when I shall think or Phoebus' steeds are founder'd or Night kept chain'd below.
Ariel: Before you can say 'come' and 'go,' And breathe twice, and cry 'so, so,' Each one, tripping on his toe, Will be here with mop and mow. Do you love me, master? No?
Prospero: Dearly, my delicate Ariel. Do not approach Till thou dost hear me call.
Prospero: Look thou be true; do not give dalliance too much the rein; the strongest oaths are straw to th' fire i' th' blood. Be more abstemious, Or else good night your vow!
Ceres: Hail, many-coloured messenger, that ne'er dost disobey the wife of Jupiter; Who, with thy saffron wings, upon my flow'rs diffusest honey drops, refreshing show'rs; And with each end of thy blue bow dost crown my bosky acres and my unshrubb'd down, rich scarf to my proud earth-why hath thy Queen summon'd me hither to this short-grass'd green?
Iris: A contract of true love to celebrate, And some donation freely to estate On the blest lovers.
Ferdinand: This is a most majestic vision, and Harmonious charmingly. May I be bold To think these spirits?
Prospero: Spirits, which by mine art I have from their confines call'd to enact My present fancies.
Ferdinand: Let me live here ever; so rare a wond'red father and a wise makes this place Paradise.
Prospero: You do look, my son, in a mov'd sort, as if you were dismay'd; be cheerful, sir. Our revels now are ended. These our actors, as I foretold you, were all spirits, and are melted into air, into thin air; and, like the baseless fabric of this vision, the cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces, the solemn temples, the great globe itself, yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve, and, like this insubstantial pageant faded, leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff as dreams are made on; and our little life Is rounded with a sleep.
Prospero: A devil, a born devil, on whose nature nurture can never stick; on whom my pains, humanely taken, all, all lost, quite lost; and as with age his body uglier grows, so his mind cankers.
Caliban: Pray you, tread softly, that the blind mole may not Hear a foot fall; we now are near his cell.
Stephano: Monster, your fairy, which you say is a harmless fairy, has done little better than play'd the Jack with us.
Trinculo: Monster, I do smell all horse-piss at which my nose is in great indignation.
Stephano: So is mine. Do you hear, monster? If I should take a displeasure against you, look you—
Trinculo: Thou wert but a lost monster.
Caliban: The dropsy drown this fool! What do you mean To dote thus on such luggage? Let 't alone, And do the murder first. If he awake, from toe to crown he'll fill our skins with pinches; make us strange stuff.
Prospero: Let them be hunted soundly. At this hour Lies at my mercy all mine enemies. Shortly shall all my labours end, and thou shalt have the air at freedom; for a little follow, and do me service.
Act V, Scene 1
Prospero: Now does my project gather to a head; My charms crack not, my spirits obey; and time goes upright with his carriage. How's the day?
Ariel: On the sixth hour; at which time, my lord, you said our work should cease.
Ariel:Your charm so strongly works 'em That if you now beheld them your affections Would become tender.
Prospero: Dost thou think so, spirit?
Ariel: Mine would, sir, were I human.
Prospero: And mine shall. Hast thou, which art but air, a touch, a feeling of their afflictions, and shall not myself, one of their kind, that relish all as sharply, passion as they, be kindlier mov'd than thou art? Though with their high wrongs I am struck to th' quick, yet with my nobler reason 'gainst my fury do I take part; the rarer action is In virtue than in vengeance; they being penitent, the sole drift of my purpose doth extend not a frown further. Go release them, Ariel; My charms I'll break, their senses I'll restore, and they shall be themselves.
Prospero: Ye elves of hills, brooks, standing lakes, and groves; And ye that on the sands with printless foot do chase the ebbing Neptune, and do fly him when he comes back; you demi-puppets that by moonshine do the green sour ringlets make, whereof the ewe not bites; and you whose pastime Is to make midnight mushrooms, that rejoice to hear the solemn curfew; by whose aid— Weak masters though ye be-I have be-dimm'd the noontide sun, call'd forth the mutinous winds, And 'twixt the green sea and the azur'd vault Set roaring war. To the dread rattling thunder Have I given fire, and rifted Jove's stout oak With his own bolt; the strong-bas'd promontory Have I made shake, and by the spurs pluck'd up The pine and cedar. Graves at my command Have wak'd their sleepers, op'd, and let 'em forth, By my so potent art. But this rough magic I here abjure; and, when I have requir'd Some heavenly music-which even now I do— To work mine end upon their senses that This airy charm is for, I'll break my staff, Bury it certain fathoms in the earth, And deeper than did ever plummet sound I'll drown my book.
Ariel sings: Where the bee sucks, there lurk I;
In a cowslip's bell I lie;
There I couch when owls do cry.
On the bat's back I do fly
After summer merrily.
Merrily, merrily shall I live now
Under the blossom that hangs on the bough.
Prospero: Why, that's my dainty Ariel! I shall miss thee; But yet thou shalt have freedom. So, so, so.
Prospero: For more assurance that a living prince Does now speak to thee, I embrace thy body; And to thee and thy company I bid A hearty welcome.
Alonso: Whe'er thou be'st he or no, Or some enchanted trifle to abuse me, As late I have been, I not know. Thy pulse Beats, as of flesh and blood; and, since I saw thee, Th' affliction of my mind amends, with which, I fear, a madness held me. This must crave— An if this be at all-a most strange story. Thy dukedom I resign, and do entreat Thou pardon me my wrongs. But how should Prospero Be living and be here?
Prospero: I rather think You have not sought her help, of whose soft grace For the like loss I have her sovereign aid, And rest myself content.
Alonso: You the like loss!
Prospero: As great to me as late; and, supportable To make the dear loss, have I means much weaker Than you may call to comfort you, for I Have lost my daughter.
Alonso: A daughter! O heavens, that they were living both in Naples, The King and Queen there! That they were, I wish Myself were mudded in that oozy bed Where my son lies. When did you lose your daughter?
Prospero: In this last tempest.
Miranda: O, wonder! How many goodly creatures are there here! How beauteous mankind is! O brave new world That has such people in't!
- It is this statement by Miranda which provided Aldous Huxley the title of his dystopian novel, Brave New World, in which he has "The Savage" quote this passage.
Gonzalo: I have inly wept, Or should have spoke ere this. Look down, you gods, and on this couple drop a blessed crown; for it is you that have chalk'd forth the way which brought us hither
Alonso: These are not natural events; they strengthen From strange to stranger.
Alonso: This is as strange a maze as e'er men trod; And there is in this business more than nature Was ever conduct of. Some oracle must rectify our knowledge.
Prospero: He is as disproportioned in his manners As in his shape. Go, sirrah, to my cell; Take with you your companions; as you look To have my pardon, trim it handsomely.
Caliban: Ay, that I will; and I'll be wise hereafter, And seek for grace. What a thrice-double ass was I to take this drunkard for a god, and worship this dull fool!
Prospero: Sir, I invite your Highness and your train To my poor cell, where you shall take your rest For this one night; which, part of it, I'll waste with such discourse as, I not doubt, shall make it go quick away-the story of my life, and the particular accidents gone by since I came to this isle. And in the morn I'll bring you to your ship, and so to Naples, Where I have hope to see the nuptial Of these our dear-belov'd solemnized, And thence retire me to my Milan, where every third thought shall be my grave.
Alonso: I long To hear the story of your life, which must Take the ear strangely.
Prospero: I'll deliver all; And promise you calm seas, auspicious gales, And sail so expeditious that shall catch Your royal fleet far off. [Aside to Ariel] My Ariel, chick, That is thy charge. Then to the elements Be free, and fare thou well!-Please you, draw near.
Epilogue
Prospero: Now my charms are all o'erthrown, and what strength I have's mine own, which is most faint. Now 'tis true, I must be here confin'd by you, or sent to Naples. Let me not, since I have my dukedom got, and pardon'd the deceiver, dwell In this bare island by your spell; But release me from my bands with the help of your good hands. Gentle breath of yours my sails must fill, or else my project fails, which was to please. Now I want Spirits to enforce, art to enchant; And my ending is despair Unless I be reliev'd by prayer, which pierces so that it assaults mercy itself, and frees all faults. As you from crimes would pardon'd be, Let your indulgence set me free.
