All the
infections
that the sun sucks up
From bogs, fens, flats, on Prosper fall, and make him
By inch-meal a disease!
From bogs, fens, flats, on Prosper fall, and make him
By inch-meal a disease!
Shakespeare
SEBASTIAN. Foul weather?
ANTONIO. Very foul.
GONZALO. Had I plantation of this isle, my lord-
ANTONIO. He'd sow 't with nettle-seed.
SEBASTIAN. Or docks, or mallows.
GONZALO. And were the king on't, what would I do?
SEBASTIAN. Scape being drunk for want of wine.
GONZALO. I' th' 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, 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-
SEBASTIAN. Yet he would be king on't.
ANTONIO. The latter end of his commonwealth forgets the
beginning.
GONZALO. All things in common nature should produce
Without sweat or endeavour. Treason, felony,
Sword, pike, knife, gun, or need of any engine,
Would I not have; but nature should bring forth,
Of it own kind, all foison, all abundance,
To feed my innocent people.
SEBASTIAN. No marrying 'mong his subjects?
ANTONIO. None, man; all idle; whores and knaves.
GONZALO. I would with such perfection govern, sir,
T' excel the golden age.
SEBASTIAN. Save his Majesty!
ANTONIO. Long live Gonzalo!
GONZALO. And-do you mark me, sir?
ALONSO. Prithee, no more; thou dost talk nothing to me.
GONZALO. 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.
ANTONIO. 'Twas you we laugh'd at.
GONZALO. Who in this kind of merry fooling am nothing to
you; so you may continue, and laugh at nothing still.
ANTONIO. What a blow was there given!
SEBASTIAN. An it had not fall'n flat-long.
GONZALO. 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.
Enter ARIEL, invisible, playing solemn music
SEBASTIAN. We would so, and then go a-bat-fowling.
ANTONIO. Nay, good my lord, be not angry.
GONZALO. No, I warrant you; I will not adventure my
discretion so weakly. Will you laugh me asleep, for I am
very heavy?
ANTONIO. Go sleep, and hear us.
[All sleep but ALONSO, SEBASTIAN and ANTONIO]
ALONSO. What, all so soon asleep! I wish mine eyes
Would, with themselves, shut up my thoughts; I find
They are inclin'd to do so.
SEBASTIAN. Please you, sir,
Do not omit the heavy offer of it:
It seldom visits sorrow; when it doth,
It is a comforter.
ANTONIO. We two, my lord,
Will guard your person while you take your rest,
And watch your safety.
ALONSO. Thank you-wondrous heavy!
[ALONSO sleeps. Exit ARIEL]
SEBASTIAN. What a strange drowsiness possesses them!
ANTONIO. It is the quality o' th' climate.
SEBASTIAN. Why
Doth it not then our eyelids sink? I find not
Myself dispos'd to sleep.
ANTONIO. 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,
What thou shouldst be; th' occasion speaks thee; and
My strong imagination sees a crown
Dropping upon thy head.
SEBASTIAN. What, art thou waking?
ANTONIO. Do you not hear me speak?
SEBASTIAN. I do; and surely
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, moving,
And yet so fast asleep.
ANTONIO. Noble Sebastian,
Thou let'st thy fortune sleep-die rather; wink'st
Whiles thou art waking.
SEBASTIAN. Thou dost snore distinctly;
There's meaning in thy snores.
ANTONIO. I am more serious than my custom; you
Must be so too, if heed me; which to do
Trebles thee o'er.
SEBASTIAN. Well, I am standing water.
ANTONIO. I'll teach you how to flow.
SEBASTIAN. Do so: to ebb,
Hereditary sloth instructs me.
ANTONIO. O,
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.
SEBASTIAN. Prithee say on.
The setting of thine eye and cheek proclaim
A matter from thee; and a birth, indeed,
Which throes thee much to yield.
ANTONIO. Thus, sir:
Although this lord of weak remembrance, this
Who shall be of as little memory
When he is earth'd, hath here almost persuaded-
For he's a spirit of persuasion, only
Professes to persuade-the King his son's alive,
'Tis as impossible that he's undrown'd
As he that sleeps here swims.
SEBASTIAN. I have no hope
That he's undrown'd.
ANTONIO. O, out of that 'no hope'
What great hope have you! No hope that way is
Another way so high a hope, that even
Ambition cannot pierce a wink beyond,
But doubt discovery there. Will you grant with me
That Ferdinand is drown'd?
SEBASTIAN. He's gone.
ANTONIO. Then tell me,
Who's the next heir of Naples?
SEBASTIAN. Claribel.
ANTONIO. She that is Queen of Tunis; she that dwells
Ten leagues beyond man's life; she that from Naples
Can have no note, unless the sun were post,
The Man i' th' 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,
And by that destiny, to perform an act
Whereof what's past is prologue, what to come
In yours and my discharge.
SEBASTIAN. What stuff is this! How say you?
'Tis true, my brother's daughter's Queen of Tunis;
So is she heir of Naples; 'twixt which regions
There is some space.
ANTONIO. A space whose ev'ry cubit
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 seiz'd them; why, they were no 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?
SEBASTIAN. Methinks I do.
ANTONIO. And how does your content
Tender your own good fortune?
SEBASTIAN. I remember
You did supplant your brother Prospero.
ANTONIO. 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.
SEBASTIAN. But, for your conscience-
ANTONIO. Ay, sir; where lies that? If 'twere a kibe,
'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 of it,
Can lay to bed for ever; 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,
They'll take suggestion as a cat laps milk;
They'll tell the clock to any business that
We say befits the hour.
SEBASTIAN. Thy case, dear friend,
Shall be my precedent; as thou got'st Milan,
I'll come by Naples. Draw thy sword. One stroke
Shall free thee from the tribute which thou payest;
And I the King shall love thee.
ANTONIO. Draw together;
And when I rear my hand, do you the like,
To fall it on Gonzalo.
SEBASTIAN. O, but one word. [They talk apart]
Re-enter ARIEL, invisible, with music and song
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!
ANTONIO. Then let us both be sudden.
GONZALO. Now, good angels
Preserve the King! [They wake]
ALONSO. Why, how now? -Ho, awake! -Why are you drawn?
Wherefore this ghastly looking?
GONZALO. What's the matter?
SEBASTIAN. 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.
ALONSO. I heard nothing.
ANTONIO. O, 'twas a din to fright a monster's ear,
To make an earthquake! Sure it was the roar
Of a whole herd of lions.
ALONSO. Heard you this, Gonzalo?
GONZALO. Upon mine honour, sir, I heard a humming,
And that a strange one too, which did awake me;
I shak'd you, sir, and cried; as mine eyes open'd,
I saw their weapons drawn-there was a noise,
That's verily. 'Tis best we stand upon our guard,
Or that we quit this place. Let's draw our weapons.
ALONSO. Lead off this ground; and let's make further
search
For my poor son.
GONZALO. Heavens keep him from these beasts!
For he is, sure, i' th' island.
ALONSO. Lead away.
ARIEL. Prospero my lord shall know what I have done;
So, King, go safely on to seek thy son. Exeunt
SCENE 2
Another part of the island
Enter CALIBAN, with a burden of wood. A noise of thunder heard
CALIBAN.
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 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.
Enter TRINCULO
Lo, now, lo!
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.
TRINCULO. Here's neither bush nor shrub to bear off any
weather at all, and another storm brewing; I hear it
sing i' th' wind. Yond same black cloud, yond huge one,
looks like a foul bombard 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
pailfuls. 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; 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 man; when
they will not give a doit to relieve a lame beggar, they
will lay out ten to see a dead Indian. 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
thunderbolt. [Thunder] 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 bed-fellows. I will here shroud till the dregs
of the storm be past.
Enter STEPHANO singing; a bottle in his hand
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. Do not torment me. O!
STEPHANO. What's the matter? Have we devils here? Do you
put tricks upon 's with savages and men of Ind? 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 again, while Stephano breathes at
nostrils.
CALIBAN. The spirit torments me. O!
STEPHANO. This is some monster of the isle with four legs,
who hath got, as I take it, an ague. Where the devil
should he learn our language? I will give him some
relief, if it be but for that. If I can recover him, and
keep him tame, and get to Naples with him, he's a
present for any emperor that ever trod on neat's
leather.
CALIBAN. Do not torment me, prithee; I'll bring my wood
home faster.
STEPHANO. 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 shall pay for him that hath him,
and that soundly.
CALIBAN. Thou dost me yet but little hurt; thou wilt anon,
I know it by thy trembling; now Prosper works upon thee.
STEPHANO. 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.
TRINCULO. I should know that voice; it should be-but he is
drown'd; and these are devils. O, defend me!
STEPHANO. Four legs and two voices; a most delicate monster!
His forward voice, now, is to speak well of his
friend; his backward voice is to utter foul speeches and
to detract. If all the wine in my bottle will recover
him, I will help his ague. Come-Amen! I will pour some
in thy other mouth.
TRINCULO. Stephano!
STEPHANO. Doth thy other mouth call me? Mercy, mercy!
This is a devil, and no monster; I will leave him; I
have no long spoon.
TRINCULO. Stephano! If thou beest Stephano, touch me, and
speak to me; for I am Trinculo-be not afeard-thy good
friend Trinculo.
STEPHANO. If thou beest Trinculo, come forth; I'll pull
the 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?
TRINCULO. I took him to be kill'd with a thunderstroke.
But art thou not drown'd, Stephano? I hope now thou are
not drown'd. Is the storm overblown? I hid me under the
dead moon-calf's gaberdine for fear of the storm. And
art thou living, Stephano? O Stephano, two Neapolitans
scap'd!
STEPHANO. Prithee, do not turn me about; my stomach is not
constant.
CALIBAN. [Aside] These be fine things, an if they be not
sprites.
That's a brave god, and bears celestial liquor.
I will kneel to him.
STEPHANO. How didst thou scape? How cam'st thou hither?
Swear by this bottle how thou cam'st hither-I escap'd
upon a butt of sack, which the sailors heaved o'erboard-
by this bottle, which I made of the bark of a tree, with
mine own hands, since I was cast ashore.
CALIBAN. I'll swear upon that bottle to be thy true
subject, for the liquor is not earthly.
STEPHANO. Here; swear then how thou escap'dst.
TRINCULO. Swum ashore, man, like a duck; I can swim like
a duck, I'll be sworn.
STEPHANO. [Passing the bottle] Here, kiss the book. Though
thou canst swim like a duck, thou art made like a
goose.
TRINCULO. O Stephano, hast any more of this?
STEPHANO. The whole butt, man; my cellar is in a rock by
th' seaside, where my wine is hid. How now, moon-calf!
How does thine ague?
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! I could find in
my heart to beat him-
STEPHANO. Come, kiss.
TRINCULO. But that the poor monster's in drink. An
abominable monster!
CALIBAN. I'll show thee the best springs; I'll pluck thee
berries;
I'll fish for thee, and get thee wood enough.
A plague upon the tyrant that I serve!
I'll bear him no more sticks, but follow thee,
Thou wondrous man.
TRINCULO. A most ridiculous monster, to make a wonder of
a poor drunkard!
CALIBAN. I prithee let me bring thee where crabs grow;
And I with my long nails will dig thee pig-nuts;
Show thee a jay's nest, and instruct thee how
To snare the nimble marmoset; I'll bring thee
To clust'ring filberts, and sometimes I'll get thee
Young scamels from the rock. Wilt thou go with me?
STEPHANO. I prithee now, lead the way without any more
talking. Trinculo, the King and all our company else
being drown'd, we will inherit here. Here, bear my bottle.
Fellow Trinculo, we'll fill him by and by again.
CALIBAN. [Sings drunkenly] Farewell, master; farewell,
farewell!
TRINCULO. A howling monster; a drunken monster!
CALIBAN. No more dams I'll make for fish;
Nor fetch in firing
At requiring,
Nor scrape trenchering, nor wash dish.
'Ban 'Ban, Ca-Caliban,
Has a new master-Get a new man.
Freedom, high-day! high-day, freedom! freedom, high-
day, freedom!
STEPHANO. O brave monster! Lead the way. Exeunt
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ACT III. SCENE 1
Before PROSPERO'S cell
Enter FERDINAND, hearing a log
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. I must remove
Some thousands of these logs, and pile them up,
Upon a sore injunction; my sweet mistress
Weeps when she sees me work, and says such baseness
Had never like executor. I forget;
But these sweet thoughts do even refresh my labours,
Most busy, least when I do it.
Enter MIRANDA; and PROSPERO at a distance, unseen
MIRANDA. Alas, now; pray you,
Work not so hard; I would the lightning had
Burnt up those logs that you are enjoin'd to pile.
Pray, set it down and rest you; when this burns,
'Twill weep for having wearied you. My father
Is hard at study; pray, now, rest yourself;
He's safe for these three hours.
FERDINAND. O most dear mistress,
The sun will set before I shall discharge
What I must strive to do.
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.