The Dramatic Works of William Shakespeare. With a Glossary

Caliban, a savage and deformed Slave.

Trinculo, a Jester.

Master of a Ship, Boatswain, and Mariners.
Miranda, Daughter to Prospero.
Ariel, an airy Spirit.

Iris,

Ceres, Juno,

Nymphs,

Reapers,

Spirits.

Other Spirits attending on Prospero.

SCENE, the Sea, with a Ship; afterwards an uninhabited Island.

ACT I.

SCENE I. On a Ship at Sea.

A Storm, with Thunder and Lightning.

Enter a Shipmaster and a Boatswain.

Mast. BOATSWAIN,

Boats. Here, master: what cheer? Mast. Good speak to the mariners: fall to't yarely, or we run ourselves aground: bestir, bestir. [Exit. Enter Mariners.

Boats. Heigh, my hearts; cheerly, cheerly, my hearts! yare, yare: take in the topsail: tend to the master's whistle.-Blow, till thou borst thy wind, if room enough!

Ant. Hang, cur, hang! you whoreson, insolent noise-maker, we are less afraid to be drowned than thou art.

Gon. I'll warrant him from drowning; though the Enter Alonso, Sebastian, Antonio, Ferdinand, Gon-ship were no stronger than a nut-shell, and as leaky as an unstanched wench.

zalo, and others.

Alon. Good boatswain, have care. Where's the

master? Play the men.

Boats. I pray now, keep below.

Ant. Where is the master, boatswain?

Boats. Do you not hear him? You mar our labour ! keep your cabins: you do assist the storm.

Gon. Nay, good, be patient.

Boats. When the sea is. Hence! What care these roarers for the name of king? To cabin silence: trouble us not.

Gon. Good; yet remember whom thou hast aboard. Boats. None that I more love than myself. You are a 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 lived so long, and make yourself ready in your cabin for the mischance of the hour, if it so hap.-Cheerly, good hearts.-Out of our way, I say. [Exit. Gon. 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 hanged, our case is miserable.

[Exeunt.

Boats. Lay her a-hold, a-hold; set her two courses; off to sea again, lay her off.

Ant. We are merely cheated of our lives by drunkards.

This wide-chapped rascal ;-'Would, thou might'st lie drowning, The washing of ten tides !

Gon.

He'll be hanged yet; Though every drop of water swear against it, And gape at wid'st to glat him. [A confused Noise within] Mercy on us!We split, we split! Farewell, my wife and children!-Farewell, brother !-We split, we split, we split.Ant. Let's all sink with the king. Seb. Let's take leave of him. Gon. 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 a dry death. [Exit.

[Exit. [Exit.

SCENE II. The Island: before the Cell of Prospero.

Enter Prospero and Miranda.

Mira. 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 the welkin's cheek,
Dashes the fire out. O, I have suffer'd
With those that I saw suffer! a brave vessel,
Who had no doubt some noble creatures 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 e'er
It should the good ship so have swallow'd, and
The freighting souls within her,
Pro.
Be collected;
No more amazement tell your piteous heart,
There's no harm done.

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 order'd, 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
For thou must now know further.
[down;
Mira.
You have often
Begun to tell me what I am; but stopp'd
And left me to a bootless inquisition;
Concluding, Stay, not yet.

Pro.

The hour's now come;

The very minute bids thee ope thine ear;
Obey, and be attentive. Canst thou remember
A time before we came unto this cell?

I do not think thou canst; for then theu wast not
Out three years old.

Mira.

Certainly, sir, I can.

Pro. By what? by any other house, or person?
Of any thing the image tell me, that
Hath kept with thy remembrance.
Mira.
"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?
Pro. 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?
If thou remember'st aught, ere thou cam'st here,
How thou cam'st here, thou may'st.
Mira.

But that I do not.

In dignity, and, for the liberal arts,
Without a parallel; those being all my study,
The government I cast upon my brother,
And to my state grew stranger, being transported,
And rapt in secret studies. Thy false uncle-
Dost thou attend me ?
Mira.

Sir, most heedfully.
Pro. Being once perfected how to grant suits,
How to deny them; whom to advance, and whom
To trash for over-topping; new created [them,
The creatures that were mine; I say, or chang'd
Or else new form'd them: having both the key
Of officer and office, set all hearts

To what tune pleas'd his ear; that now he was
The ivy which had hid my princely trunk,
And suck'd my verdure out on't.-Thou attend'st not:
I pray thee, mark me.

Mira.

O good sir, I do.

Pro. I thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicate
To closeness and the bettering of my mind
With that, which, but by being so retir'd,
O'erpriz'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. He being thus lorded,
Not only with what my revenue yielded,
But what my power might else exact,-like one,
Who having, unto truth, by telling of it,
Made such a sinner of his memory,

To credit his own lie,-he did believe
He was the duke; out of the substitution,
And executing the outward face of royalty,
With all prerogative:-Hence his ambition
Growing, Dost hear?

Mira.

Your tale, sir, would cure deafness.
Pro. To have no screen between this part he
And him he play'd it for, he needs will be [play'd,
Absolute Milan me, poor man my library
Was dukedom large enough; of temporal royalties
He thinks me now incapable: confederates
(So dry he was for sway) with the 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.

Mira.

O the heavens!
Pro. Mark his condition, and the event; then tell
If this might be a brother.
[me,
Mira.

I should sin
To think but nobly of my grandmother :
Good wombs have borne bad sons.

Pro.

Now the condition.
This king of Naples, being an enemy
To me inveterate, hearkens my brother's suit;
Which was, that he in lieu o'the premises,-
Of homage, and I know not how much tribute,--
Should presently extirpate me and mine
Out of the dukedom; and confer fair Milan,
With all the honours, on my brother: whereon
A treacherous army levied, one midnight
Fated to the purpose, did Antonio open
The gates of Milan; and i'the dead of darkness,
The ministers for the purpose hurried thence
Me, and thy crying self.
Mira.

Alack, for pity!
Pro. Twelve years since, Miranda, twelve years, not rememb'ring how I cried out then,
Thy father was the duke of Milan, and
Will cry it o'er again; it is a hint,
That wrings mine eyes.

[since,

A prince of power.
Mira.
Sir, are not you my father?
Pro. Thy mother was a piece of virtue, and
She said-thou wast my daughter; and thy father
Was duke of Milan; and his only heir
A princess;-no worse issued.
Mira.

O, the heavens↓

Pro.
Hear a little further,
And then I'll bring thee to the present business
Which now's upon us; without the which, this story
Were most impertinent.
Mira.

That hour destroy us?

Pro.

Wherefore did they not

Well demanded, wench;

My tale provokes that question. Dear, they durst not;
(So dear the love my people bore me) nor set
A mark so bloody on the business; but
With colours fairer painted their foul ends.
In few, they hurried us aboard a bark;
Bore us some leagues to sea; where they prepar'd
A rotten carcass of a boat, not rigg'd,
Nor tackle, sail, nor mast; the very rats
Instinctively had quit it: there they hoist us,
To cry to the sea that roar'd to us; to sigh
To the winds, whose pity, sighing back again,
Did us but loving wrong.

But ever see that man!

Pro.

'Would I might

Now I arise :-
Sit still, and hear the last of our sea-sorrow.
Here in this island we arriv'd; and here.
Have I, thy school-master, made thee more profit
Than other princes can, that have more time
For vainer hours, and tutors not so careful. [you, sir,
Mira. Heavens thank you for't! And now, I pray
(For still 'tis beating in my mind), your reason
For raising this sea-storm ?
Pro.
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 auspicions star; whose influence
If now I court not, but omit, my fortunes

Will ever after droop.-Here cease more questions;
Thou art inclin'd to sleep; 'tis a good dulness,
And give it way;-I know thou canst not choose.-
[Miranda sleeps.
Come away, servant, come: I am ready now;
Approach, my Ariel; come.

Hast thou, spirit,

Perform'd to point the tempest that I bade thee?
Ari. To every article.

I boarded the king's ship; now on the beak,
Now in the waist, the deck, in every cabin,
I flam'd amazement: sometimes, I'd divide,
And burn in many places; on the top-mast,
The yards, and bowsprit, would I flame distinctly;
Then meet, and join: Jove's lightnings, the precursors
O'the dreadful thunder-claps, more momentary
And sight outrunning were not the tire, and cracks
Of sulphurous roaring, the most mighty Neptune
Seem'd to besiege, and make his bold waves tremble;
Yea, his dread trident shake.

Pro.

My brave spirit! Who was so firm, so constant, that this coil Would not infect his reason? Ari. Not a soul But felt a fever of the mad, and play'd Some tricks of desperation: all, but mariners, Plung'd in the foaming brine, and quit the vessel, Then all a-fire with me: the king's son, Ferdinand, With hair up starting (then like reeds, not hair,) Was the first man that leap'd; cried, Hell is empty, And all the devils are here.

Pro. Why, that's my spirit! But was not this nigh shore? Ari. Close by, my master. Pro. But are they, Ariel, safe? Ari.

Not a hair perish'd, On their sustaining garments not a blemish, But fresher than before: and, as thou bad'st me, In troops I have dispers'd them 'bout the isle: The king's son have I landed by himself; Whom left cooling of the air with sighs, In an odd angle of the isle, and sitting, His arms in this sad knot.

Pro.

Of the king's ship, The mariners, say, how thou hast dispos'd, And all the rest o'the fleet?

Ari.

Safely in harbour

Is the king's ship; in the deep nook, where once

Pro. Thou hast Ari. Sir, in Argier.

Pro.

[tell me. where was she born? speak;

O, was she so? I must,
Once in a month, recount what thou hast been,
Which thou forget'st. This damn'd witch, Sycorax,
For mischiefs manifold, and sorceries terrible
To enter human hearing, from Argier,

Thoa know'st, was banish'd; for one thing she did,
They would not take her life. Is not this true?
Ari. Ay, sir.

[child,

Pro. This blue-ey'd hag was hither brought with
And here was left by the sailors. Thou, my slave,
As thou report'st thyelf, wast then her servant:
And, for thou wast a spirit too delicate
To act her earthy and abhorr'd commands,
Refusing her grand hests, she did confine thee,
By help of her more potent ministers,
And in her most unmitigable rage,
Iuto a cloven pine; within which rift
Imprison'd, thou didst painfully remain

A dozen years; within which space she died,
And left thee there; where thou didst vent thy groans,
As fast as mill-wheels strike: then was this island
(Save for the son that she did litter here,

A freckled whelp, hag-born), not honour'd with
A human shape.

Ari.

Yes; Caliban, her son.

Fer. Where should this music be? i'the air, or the It sounds no more and sure, it waits upon (earth? Some god of the island. Sitting on a bank, Weeping again the king my father's wreck, This music crept by me upon the waters; Allaying both their fury, and my passion, With its sweet air: thence I have follow'd it, Or it hath drawn me rather :-But 'tis gone. it begins again.

My lord, it shall be done. [Exit. Pro. Thou poisonous slave, got by the devil him-No, Upon thy wicked dam, come forth!

Enter Caliban.

[self

Cal. As wicked dew as e'er my mother brush'd With raven's feather from anwholesome fen, Drop on you both! a south-west blow on ye, And blister you all o'er !

[cramps,

Pro. For this, be sure, to-night thou shalt have 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 honey-combs, each pinch more stinging Than bees that made them.

Cal. I must eat my dinner. This island's mine, by Sycorax my mother, Which thou tak 'st from me. When thou camest first, Thou strok'dst me, and mad'st much of me; wouldst Water with berries in't; and teach me how [give me To name the bigger light, and how the less, That burn by day and night: and then I lov'd thee, And shew'd thee all the qualities o'the isle, The fresh springs, brine pits, barren place, and fertile; Cursed be 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 of the island.

Pro.
Thou most lying slave, [thee,
Whom stripes may move, not kindness; I have us'd
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.

Cal. O ho, O ho!-'would it had been done!
Thou didst prevent me; I had peopled else
This isle with Calibans.

Could not abide to be with; therefore wast thou
Deservedly confin'd into this rock,

Who hadst deserv'd more than a prison.

Cal. 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!

Pro. Hag-seed, hence! Fetch us in fuel; and be quick, thou wert best, To answer other business. Shrug'st thon, malice ? If thou neglect'st, or dost unwillingly What I command, I'll rack thee with old cramps; Fill all thy bones with aches: make thee roar, That beasts shall tremble at thy din.

Cal.

No, pray thee !I must obey his art is of such power, [Aside. It would control my dam's god, Setebos, And make a vassal of him. Pro. So, slave: hence! [Exit Caliban.

Ariel sings. Full fathom five thy father lies; Of his bones are coral made; Those are pearls that were his eyes; Nothing of him that doth jade, 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. [Burden, ding-dong. Fer. The ditty does remember my drown'd father:This is no mortal business, nor no sound That the earth owes:-I hear it now above me. Pro. The fringed curtains of thine eye advance, And say, what thou seest yond'. Mira.

[senses

What is't a spirit! Lord, how it looks about! Believe me, sir, It carries a brave form :-But 'tis a spirit. Pro. No, wench; it eats and sleeps, and hath such 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 might'st call A goodly person he hath lost his fellows, [him And strays about to find them. Mira. I might call him A thing divine: for nothing natural I ever saw so noble. Pro. It goes on, [Aside. As my soul prompts it--Spirit, fine spirit! I'll free Within two days for this. [thee Fer. Most sure, the goddess On whom these airs attend !-Vouchsafe my prayer May know if you remain upon this island ; And that you will some good instruction give, How I may bear me here: my prime request, Which I do last pronounce, is, O you wonder! If you be made, or no?

Mira.

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.
Pro.

How the best?
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, I weep: myself am Naples;
Who with mine eyes, ne'er since at ebb, beheld
The king my father wreck'd.
Mira.
Alack, for mercy!
Fer. Yes, faith, and all his lords; the duke of
And his brave son, being twain.
[Milan,
Pro.
The duke of Milan,
And his more braver daughter, could control thee,
If now 'twere fit to do't.-At the first sight [Aside.
They have chang'd eyes :-Delicate Ariel,

I'll set thee free for this!-A word, good sir;

I fear, you have done yourself some wrong: a word.
Mira. 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!

Fer.

O, if a virgin, And your affection not gone forth, I'll make you The queen of Naples.

« السابقة متابعة »

كتب