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.
[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.
What is't? a spirit?
Lord, how it looks about! Believe me, sir,
It carries a brave form:-But 'tis a spirit. [senses
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 him

A goodly person: he hath lost his fellows,
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;

Pro.
Silence one word more
Shall make me chide thee, if not hate thee. What!
An advocate for an impostor? hush!

Thou think'st there are no more such shapes as he,
Having seen but him and Caliban: Foolish wench!
To the most of men this is a Caliban,
And they to him are angels.

Mira.
My affections
Are then most humble; I have no ambition
To see a goodlier man.
Pro.

Come on; obey: [To Ferd.
Thy nerves are in their infancy again,
And have no vigour in them.

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, or this man's threats,
To whom I am subdued, are but light to me,
Might I but through my prison once a day
My language! heavens-Behold this maid: all corners else o'the earth
Let liberty make use of; space enough
Have 1 in such a prison.

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.
Pro.

Pro.

It works:-Come on.-
Thou hast done well, fine Ariel!-Follow me.-
[To Ferdinand and Miranda.
Hark, what thou else shalt do me. [To Ariel.
Mira.
Be of comfort;

My father's of a better nature, sir,
Than he appears by speech; this is unwonted,
Which now came from him.
Pro.

Thou shalt be as free
As mountain winds: but then exactly do
All points of my command.
Ari.

To the syllable.
Pro. Come, follow: speak not for him. [Exeunt.

ACT II.

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 Soft, sir: one word more.-Is much beyond our loss: Our hint of woe They are both in either's powers: but this swift Is common: every day, some sailor's wife, business 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.

I must uneasy make, lest too light winning [Aside.
Make the prize light.-One word more; I charge
That thou attend me: thou dost here usurp [thee,
The name thou ow'st 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.
Mira. There's nothing ill can dwell in such a

temple:

If the ill spirit have so fair an house,
Good things will strive to dwell with't.

Seb. A dollar.

Gon. When every grief is entertain'd, that's now as fresh, as when we were at Tunis at the Comes to the entertainer[offer'd, marriage of your daughter, who is now queen. Ant. And the rarest that e'er came there. Seb. 'Bate, I beseech you, widow Dido. 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.

Gon. Dolour comes to him, indeed; you have spoken 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 pr'ythee spare.

Gon. Well, I have done: But yet

Seb. He will be talking.

Ant. That sort was well fish'd 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

Ant. Which of them, he, or Adrian, for a good Married my daughter there! for, coming thence,

wager, first begins to crow?

Seb. The old cock.

Seb. Ha, ha, ha!

Ant. So, you've pay'd.

My son is lost; and, in my rate, she too,
Who is so far from Italy remov'd,

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!

I saw him beat the surges under him,

And ride upon their backs; he trod the water,
Whose enmity he flung aside, and breasted

Adr. Uninhabitable, and almost inaccessible,- The surge most swoln that met him: his bold head

Seb. Yet,

Adr. Yet

Ant. He could not miss it.

'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,

Adr. It must needs be of subtle, tender, and de- As stooping to relieve him: I doubt not, licate temperance.

Ant. Temperance was a delicate wench.

Seb. Aye, and a subtle; as he most learnedly delivered.

Adr. The air breathes upon us here most sweetly.
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.

He came alive to land.
Alon.

No, no, he's gone.

Seb. Sir, you may thank yourself for this great
loss
[ter,
That would not bless our Europe with your daugh-
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.
Alon.

Gon. How lush and lusty the grass looks? how By all of us; and the fair soul herself 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 vouch'd rarities are.

Gon. That our garments, being, as they were, drenched in the sea, hold, notwithstanding, their freshness, and glosses; being rather new dy'd, than stain'd 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 we put them on first in Africk, 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 grac'd 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 study
of that: She was of Carthage, not of Tunis.
Gon. This Tunis, sir, was Carthage.
Adr. Carthage?

Gon. I assure you, Carthage.

Ant. His word is more than the miraculous harp.
Seb. He hath rais'd 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 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.

Gon. Sir, we were talking, that our garments seem

Seb.

Ant.

Foul weather?

Very foul.
Gon. Had I plantation of this isle, my lord,-
Ant. He'd sow it with nettle-seed.
Seb.
Or docks, or mallows.
Gon. And were the king of it, What would I do?
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,
And use of service, none; contract, successions,
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.

O, but one word.
[They con erse apart.
Music. Re-enter Ariel, invisible.

Ari. 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! Arvake!

Ant. Then let us both be sudden.

Gon. Now, good angels, preserve the king!

[They wake.
Alon. Why, how now, ho! awake! Why are you
Wherefore this ghastly looking? [drawn?
Gon.
What's the matter?
Seh. Whiles we stood here securing your repose,
Even now, we heard a hollow burst of bellowing
Like bulls, or rather lions; did it not wake you?
It struck mine ear most terribly.

I heard nothing.

Alon.
Ant. 0, 'twas a din to fright a monster's ear;
To make an earthquake! sure it was the roar
Of a whole herd of lions.
Alon.

man when they will not give a doit to relieve a
lame beggar, they will lay out ten to see a dead In-
dian. Legg'd like a man! and his fins like arms !
Warm, o' my troth! I do now let loose my opinion,
hold it no longer; this is no fish, but an islander,
that hath lately suffered by a thunder-bolt. [Thun-
der.] Alas! the storm is come again: my best way
is to creep under his gaberdine; there is no other
shelter hereabout: Misery acquaints a man with
strange bedfellows. I will here shroud, till the
dregs of the storm be past.

Enter Stephano, singing; a bottle in his hand.
Ste. I shall no more to sea, to sea,
Here shall I die a-shore -
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-e'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.

Cal. Do not torment me: O!
Ste. What's the matter? Have we devils here?
Do you put tricks upon us with savages, and men
of Inde? Ha! I have not 'scap'd drowning, to be
afeard now of your four legs; for it hath been said,
As proper a man as ever went on four legs, cannot
make him give ground: and it shall be said so a-
gain, while Stephano breathes at nostrils.
Cal. The spirit torments me: 0!

Heard you this, Gonzalo ? Gon. Upon mine honour, sir, I heard a humming, And that a strange one too, which did awake me: I shak'd you, sir, and cry'd; as mine eyes open'd, I saw their weapons drawn:-there was a noise, That's verity: "Tis best we stand upon our guard: Or that we quit this place: let's draw our weapons. Alon. Lead off this ground; and let's make further For my poor son. [search Gon. Heavens keep him from these beasts! Ste. This is some monster of the isle, with four For he is, sure, i' th' island. legs; who hath got, as I take it, an ague: Where Alon. Lead away. [done: the devil should he learn our language? I will Ari. Prospero, my lord, shall know what I have give him some relief, if it be but for that: If I can [Aside. recover him, and keep him tame, and get to NaSo, king, go safely on to seek thy son. [Exeunt. ples with him, he's a present for any emperor that ever trod on neat's-leather.

SCENE II. Another Part of the Island.
Enter Caliban, with a Burden of wood.
A noise of Thunder heard.

Cal. All the infections that the sun sucks up
From bogs, fens, flats, on Prosper 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 fire-brand, in the dark
Out of my way, unless he bid them; but
For every trifle are they set upon me:
Sometimes like apes, that moe and chatter at me,
And after, bite me; then like hedge-hogs, which
Lie tumbling in my bare-foot way, and mount
Their pricks at my foot-fall; sometime am I
All wound with adders, who, with cloven tongues,
Do hiss me into madness :-Lo! now! lo!

Enter Trinculo.

Here comes a spirit of his; and to torment me, For bringing wood in slowly I'll fall flat; Perchance, he will not mind me.

Cal. Do not torment me, pr'ythee;
I'll bring my wood home faster.

Ste. He's in his fit now; and does not talk after the wisest. He shall taste of my bottle: if he have never drunk wine afore, it will go near to remove his fit: if I can recover him, and keep him tame, I will not take too much for him: he shai! pay for him that hath him, and that soundly.

Cal. Thou dost me yet but little hurt; thou wilt
Anon, I know it by thy trembling.
Now Prosper works upon thee.

Ste. Come on your ways; open your mouth; here is that which will give language to you, cat; open your mouth: this will shake your shaking, I can tell you, and that soundly: you cannot tell who's your friend; open your chaps again.

Trin. I should know that voice: It should beBut he is drowned; and these are devils: O! defend me !

Trin. Stephano,

Ste. Doth thy other mouth call me? Mercy! mercy! This is a devil, and no monster: I will leave him; I have no long spoon.

Ste. Four legs, and two voices; a most delicate monster! His forward voice now is to speak wel! of his friend: his backward voice is to utter foul speeches, and to detract. If all the wine in my botTrin. Here's neither bush nor shrub, to bear off tle will recover him, I will help his ague: Come, any weather at all, and another storm brewing: I--Amen! I will pour some in thy other mouth. hear it sing i' th' wind: yond' same black cloud, yond' huge one, looks like a foul bumbard that would shed his liquor. If it should thunder, as it did before, I know not where to hide my head: yond' same cloud cannot choose but fall by pail. fuls. What have we here? a man or a fish? Dead or alive? A fish: he smells like a fish; a very ancient and fish-like smell; a kind of, not of the newest, Poor-John. A strange fish! Were I in England now, (as once I was,) and had but this fish painted, not a holiday fool there but would give a piece of silver: there would this monster make a man; any strange beast there makes a

Trin. Stephano !-if thou beest Stephano, touch me, and speak to me; for I am Trinculo;-be not afeard, thy good friend Trinculo.

Ste. If thou beest Trinculo, come forth; I'll pull thee by the lesser legs: if any be Trinculo's legs, these are they. Thou art very Trinculo, indeed: How cam'st thou to be the siege of this moon-calf? Can he vent Trinculos ?

Trin. I took him to be killed with a thunder

Ste. How didst thou 'scape? How cam'st thou | Delight in them sets off: some kinds of baseness hither? swear by this bottle, how thou cam'st hi- Are nobly undergone; and most poor matters ther. I escaped upon a butt of sack, which the sai-Point to rich ends. This my mean task lors heaved over-board, by this bottle! which I made of the bark of a tree, with mine own hands, since I was cast ashore.

Trin. By this good light, this is a very shallow monster :-I afeard of him ?-a very weak monIf you'll sit down, ster :-The man i' the moon? a most poor credu- I'll bear your logs the while: Pray, give me that: lous monster :-Well drawn, monster, in good sooth. I'll carry it to the pile. Cal. I'll shew thee every fertile inch o'th' island; No, precious creature: And I will kiss thy foot. I pr'ythee, be my god. I had rather crack my sinews, break my back,.. Trin. By this light, a most perfidious and drunk-Than you should such dishonour undergo, en monster; when his god's asleep, he'll rob his While I sit lazy by.