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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 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 , Of , my dear one, , my daughter, who Art ignorant of what art, nought knowing Of I am, nor that I am more better Than Prospero, master of a full poor cell, And no greater father.
MIRANDA
More to know Did never meddle with my thoughts.
PROSPERO
time I should inform farther. Lend hand, And pluck my magic garment from me.—So:
PROSPERO
Lie there my art. Wipe eyes; have comfort. The direful spectacle of the wrack, which touch’d The very virtue of compassion in , 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 heard’st cry, which saw’st sink. Sit down; For 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 ope ear; Obey, and be attentive. Canst remember A time before we came unto this cell? I do not think canst, for then wast not Out three years old.
MIRANDA
Certainly, sir, I can.
PROSPERO
By what? By any other house, or person? Of anything the image, tell me, that kept with remembrance.
MIRANDA
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
hadst, and more, Miranda. But how is it That this lives in mind? What seest else In the dark backward and abysm of time? If rememb’rest cam’st here, How cam’st here, mayst.
MIRANDA
But that I do not.
PROSPERO
Twelve year since, Miranda, twelve year since, father was the Duke of Milan, and A prince of power.
MIRANDA
Sir, are not you my father?
PROSPERO
mother was a piece of virtue, and She said wast my daughter. And father Was Duke of Milan, and his only heir And princess, no worse issued.
MIRANDA
O, the heavens! What foul play had we that we came from ? Or blessed was’t we did?
PROSPERO
Both, both, my girl. By foul play, as say’st, were we heav’d ; But blessedly holp .
MIRANDA
O, my heart bleeds To think o’ th’ teen that I have turn’d you to, Which is from my remembrance. Please you, farther.
PROSPERO
My brother and uncle, call’d Antonio— I pray , mark me, that a brother should Be so perfidious!—he whom next thyself Of all the world I lov’d, and to him put The manage of my state; as at that time Through all the signories it was the first, And Prospero the prime duke, being so reputed 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. false uncle— attend me?
MIRANDA
Sir, most heedfully.
PROSPERO
Being once perfected how to grant suits, How to deny them, who t’ advance, and who To trash for over-topping, new created The creatures that were mine, I say, or chang’d ’em, Or else new form’d ’em: having both the key Of officer and office, set all hearts i’ th’ state 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. attend’st not.
MIRANDA
O, good sir! I do.
PROSPERO
I pray , 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. He being thus lorded, Not only with what my revenue yielded, But what my power might else exact, like one Who having into truth, by telling of it, Made such a sinner of his memory, To credit his own lie, he did believe He was indeed the Duke; out o’ the substitution, And executing th’ outward face of royalty, With all prerogative. his ambition growing— hear?
MIRANDA
Your tale, sir, would cure deafness.
PROSPERO
To have no screen between this part he play’d And him he play’d it for, he needs will be 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, 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
O the heavens!
PROSPERO
Mark his condition, and the event; then tell me If this might be a brother.
MIRANDA
I should sin To think but nobly of my grandmother: Good wombs have borne bad sons.
PROSPERO
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’ th’ premises Of homage and I know not how much tribute, Should 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 th’ purpose, did Antonio open The gates of Milan; and, i’ th’ dead of darkness, The ministers for th’ purpose hurried Me and crying self.
MIRANDA
, for pity! I, not rememb’ring how I cried out then, Will cry it again: it is a hint That wrings mine eyes to ’t.
PROSPERO
Hear a little further, And then I’ll bring to the present business Which now’s upon us; without the which this story Were most impertinent.
MIRANDA
did they not That hour destroy us?
PROSPERO
Well demanded, : 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 prepared A rotten carcass of a butt, not rigg’d, Nor tackle, sail, nor mast; the very rats Instinctively have quit it. There they hoist us, To cry to th’ sea, that roar’d to us; to sigh To th’ winds, whose pity, sighing back again, Did us but loving wrong.
MIRANDA
, what trouble Was I then to you!
PROSPERO
O, a cherubin wast that did preserve me. smile, Infused with a fortitude from heaven, When I have deck’d the sea with drops full salt, Under my burden groan’d: which rais’d in me An undergoing stomach, to bear up Against what should ensue.
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.
MIRANDA
Would I might But ever see that man!
PROSPERO
Now I arise. Sit still, and hear the last of our sea-sorrow. Here in this island we arriv’d; and here Have I, schoolmaster, made more profit Than other princes can, that have more time For vainer hours, and tutors not so careful.
MIRANDA
Heavens thank you for ’t! And now, I pray you, sir, For still beating in my mind, your reason For raising this sea-storm?
PROSPERO
Know thus far forth. By accident most strange, bountiful Fortune, Now my dear lady, mine enemies Brought to this shore; and by my prescience I find my zenith depend upon A most auspicious star, whose influence If now I court not but omit, my fortunes Will ever after droop. Here cease more questions; art inclin’d to sleep; a good dulness, And give it way. I know canst not choose.
PROSPERO
Come away, servant, come! I am ready now. Approach, my Ariel. Come!
ARIEL
All hail, great master! grave sir, hail! I come To answer best pleasure; be’t to fly, To swim, to dive into the fire, to ride On the curl’d clouds, to strong bidding task Ariel and all his quality.
PROSPERO
, spirit, Perform’d to point the tempest that I bade ?
ARIEL
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; sometime I’d divide, And burn in many places; on the topmast, The yards, and bowsprit, would I flame distinctly, Then meet and join. Jove’s lightning, the precursors O’ th’ dreadful thunder-claps, more momentary And sight-outrunning were not: the fire and cracks Of sulphurous roaring the most mighty Neptune Seem to besiege and make his bold waves tremble, Yea, his dread trident shake.
PROSPERO
My brave spirit! Who was so firm, so constant, that this coil Would not infect his reason?
ARIEL
Not a soul But felt a fever of the mad, and play’d Some tricks of desperation. All but mariners Plunged in the foaming brine and quit the vessel, Then all afire with me: the King’s son, 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
Why, that’s my spirit! But was not this nigh shore?
ARIEL
Close by, my master.
PROSPERO
But are they, Ariel, safe?
ARIEL
Not a hair perish’d; On their sustaining garments not a blemish, But fresher than before: and, as bad’st me, In troops I have dispers’d them ’bout the isle. The King’s son have I landed by himself, Whom I left cooling of the air with sighs In an odd angle of the isle, and sitting, His arms in this sad knot.
PROSPERO
Of the King’s ship The mariners, say how dispos’d, And all the rest o’ th’ fleet?
ARIEL
Safely in harbour Is the King’s ship; in the deep nook, where once call’dst me up at midnight to fetch dew From the still-vex’d Bermoothes; there she’s hid: The mariners all under hatches stowed; Who, with a charm join’d to their suff’red labour, I have left asleep: and for the rest o’ th’ fleet, Which I dispers’d, they all have met again, And are upon the Mediterranean flote Bound sadly home for Naples, Supposing that they saw the King’s ship wrack’d, And his great person perish.
PROSPERO
Ariel, charge Exactly is perform’d; but there’s more work. What is the time o’ th’ day?
ARIEL
Past the mid season.
PROSPERO
At least two glasses. The time ’twixt six and now Must by us both be spent most preciously.
ARIEL
Is there more toil? Since give me pains, Let me remember what promis’d, Which is not yet perform’d me.
PROSPERO
How now! moody? What is’t canst demand?
ARIEL
My liberty.
PROSPERO
Before the time be out? No more!
ARIEL
I , Remember I have done worthy service; Told no lies, made no mistakings, serv’d Without or grudge or grumblings: promise To bate me a full year.
PROSPERO
forget From what a torment I did free ?
ARIEL
No.
PROSPERO
, and think’st it much to tread the ooze Of the salt deep, To run upon the sharp wind of the north, To do me business in the veins o’ th’ earth When it is bak’d with frost.
ARIEL
I do not, sir.
PROSPERO
liest, malignant thing! forgot The foul witch Sycorax, who with age and envy Was grown into a hoop? forgot her?
ARIEL
No, sir.
PROSPERO
. Where was she born? Speak; tell me.
ARIEL
Sir, in Argier.
PROSPERO
O, was she so? I must Once in a month recount what been, Which forget’st. This damn’d witch Sycorax, For mischiefs manifold, and sorceries terrible To enter human hearing, from Argier, know’st, was banish’d: for one thing she did They would not take her life. Is not this true?
ARIEL
Ay, sir.
PROSPERO
This blue-ey’d hag was brought with child, And here was left by th’ sailors. , my slave, As report’st thyself, wast then her servant; And, for wast a spirit too delicate To act her earthy and abhorr’d commands, Refusing her grand hests, she did confine , By help of her more potent ministers, And in her most unmitigable rage, Into a cloven pine; within which rift Imprison’d, painfully remain A dozen years; within which space she died, And left there, where vent groans As fast as mill-wheels strike. Then was this island— Save for the son that she did litter here, A freckl’d whelp, hag-born—not honour’d with A human shape.
ARIEL
Yes, Caliban her son.
PROSPERO
Dull thing, I say so; he, that Caliban, Whom now I keep in service. best know’st What torment I did find in; groans Did make wolves howl, and penetrate the breasts Of ever-angry bears: it was a torment To lay upon the damn’d, which Sycorax Could not again undo; it was mine art, When I arriv’d and heard , that made gape The pine, and let out.
ARIEL
I thank , master.
PROSPERO
If more murmur’st, I will rend an oak And peg in his knotty entrails till howl’d away twelve winters.
ARIEL
Pardon, master: I will be correspondent to command, And do my spriting gently.
PROSPERO
Do so; and after two days I will discharge .
ARIEL
That’s my noble master! What shall I do? Say what? What shall I do?
PROSPERO
Go make thyself like a nymph o’ th’ sea. Be subject To no sight but and mine; invisible To every eyeball else. Go, take this shape, And come in ’t. Go, with diligence!
PROSPERO
Awake, dear heart, awake! slept well; Awake!
MIRANDA
The strangeness of your story put Heaviness in me.
PROSPERO
Shake it off. Come on; We’ll visit Caliban my slave, who never Yields us kind answer.
MIRANDA
a villain, sir, I do not love to look on.
PROSPERO
But as , We cannot miss him: he does make our fire, Fetch in our wood; and serves in offices That profit us. What ho! slave! Caliban! earth, ! Speak.
CALIBAN
There’s wood enough within.
PROSPERO
Come forth, I say; there’s other business for . Come, tortoise! when?
PROSPERO
Fine apparition! My quaint Ariel, Hark in ear.
ARIEL
My lord, it shall be done.
PROSPERO
poisonous slave, got by the devil himself Upon wicked dam, come forth!
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 , And blister you all !
PROSPERO
For this, be sure, tonight have cramps, Side-stitches that shall pen breath up; urchins Shall forth at vast of night that they may work All exercise on . be pinch’d As thick as honeycomb, each pinch more stinging Than bees that made them.
CALIBAN
I must eat my dinner. This island’s mine, by Sycorax my mother, Which tak’st from me. When cam’st first, strok’st me and made much of me; 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 , And show’d 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
most lying slave, Whom stripes may move, not kindness! I have us’d , Filth as art, with human care, and lodg’d In mine own cell, till seek to violate The honour of my child.
CALIBAN
Oh ho! Oh ho! Would ’t had been done! prevent me; I had peopled else This isle with Calibans.
PROSPERO
Abhorred slave, Which any print of goodness wilt not take, Being capable of all ill! I pitied , Took pains to make speak, taught each hour One thing or other: when not, savage, Know own meaning, but gabble like A thing most brutish, I endow’d purposes With words that made them known. But vile race, Though learn, had that in ’t which good natures Could not abide to be with; therefore wast 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!
PROSPERO
Hag-seed, ! Fetch us in fuel; and be quick, ’rt best, To answer other business. Shrug’st , malice? If neglect’st, or unwillingly What I command, I’ll rack with old cramps, Fill all bones with aches, make roar, That beasts shall tremble at din.
CALIBAN
No, pray . I must obey. His art is of such power, It would control my dam’s god, Setebos, And make a vassal of him.
PROSPERO
So, slave, !
PROSPERO
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 bear The burden. Hark, hark! Burden dispersedly. Bow-wow. The watch dogs bark. Bow-wow. Hark, hark! I hear The strain of strutting chanticleer Cry cock-a-diddle-dow.
FERDINAND
Where should this music be? i’ th’ air or th’ earth? It sounds no more; and sure it waits upon Some god o’ th’ island. Sitting on a bank, Weeping again the King my father’s wrack, This music crept by me upon the waters, Allaying both their fury and my passion With its sweet air: I have follow’d it, Or it drawn me rather,—but gone. No, it begins again.
ARIEL
Full fathom five father lies. Of his bones are coral made. Those are pearls that were his eyes. Nothing of him that fade But suffer a sea-change Into something rich and strange. Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell: Burden: Ding-dong. Hark! now I hear them: ding-dong, bell.
FERDINAND
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.
PROSPERO
The fringed curtains of eye advance, And say what seest yond.
MIRANDA
What is’t? a spirit? Lord, how it looks about! Believe me, sir, It carries a brave form. But a spirit.
PROSPERO
No, ; it eats and sleeps and such senses As we have, such. This gallant which seest Was in the wrack; and, but he’s something stain’d With grief,—that’s beauty’s canker,—thou mightst call him A goodly person: he 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 Within two days for this.
FERDINAND
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 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 spoken.
PROSPERO
How! the best? What wert , if the King of Naples heard ?
FERDINAND
A single thing, as I am now, that wonders To hear 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 wrack’d.
MIRANDA
, for mercy!
FERDINAND
Yes, faith, and all his lords, the Duke of Milan, And his brave son being twain.
PROSPERO
The Duke of Milan And his more braver daughter could control , If now ’twere fit to do’t. At the first sight They have changed eyes. Delicate Ariel, I’ll set free for this. A word, good sir. I fear you have done yourself some wrong: a word.
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
Soft, sir; one word more. They are both in either’s powers. But this swift business I must uneasy make, lest too light winning Make the prize light. One word more. I charge That attend me. here usurp The name ow’st not; and put thyself Upon this island as a spy, to win it From me, the lord on ’t.
FERDINAND
No, as I am a man.
MIRANDA
There’s nothing ill can dwell in such a temple: If the ill spirit have so fair a house, Good things will strive to dwell with ’t.
PROSPERO
Follow me.— Speak not you for him; he’s a traitor. Come; I’ll manacle neck and feet together: Sea-water drink; food shall be The fresh-brook mussels, wither’d roots, and husks Wherein the acorn cradled. Follow.
FERDINAND
No; I will resist such entertainment till Mine enemy has more power.
MIRANDA
O dear father! Make not too rash a trial of him, for He’s gentle, and not fearful.
PROSPERO
What! I say, My foot my tutor? Put sword up, traitor; Who mak’st a show, but dar’st not strike, conscience Is so possess’d with guilt: come from ward, For I can here disarm with this stick And make weapon drop.
MIRANDA
Beseech you, father!
PROSPERO
! Hang not on my garments.
MIRANDA
Sir, have pity; I’ll be his surety.
PROSPERO
Silence! One word more Shall make me chide , if not hate . What! An advocate for an impostor? hush! think’st there is no more such shapes as he, Having seen but him and Caliban: foolish ! 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.
PROSPERO
Come on; obey: nerves are in their infancy again, And have no vigour in them.
FERDINAND
So they are: My spirits, as in a dream, are all bound up. My father’s loss, the weakness which I feel, The wrack 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 Behold this maid: all corners else o’ th’ earth Let liberty make use of; space enough Have I in such a prison.
PROSPERO
It works. Come on. done well, fine Ariel! Follow me. Hark what else do me.
MIRANDA
Be of comfort; My father’s of a better nature, sir, Than he appears by speech: this is unwonted Which now came from him.
PROSPERO
be as free As mountain winds; but then exactly do All points of my command.