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Taken from the Complete Works of William Shakespeare

The Tempest

==========

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ

SCENE, The Sea, with a Ship: afterwards an uninhabited Island.

ACT II.

SCENE I.— Another part of the Island.

Enter ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO,

GONZALO, ADRIAN, FRANCISCO, and others.

By all of us; and the fair soul herself

Weigh’d, between lothness and obedience, at

Which end o’ the beam she’d bow. We have

lost your son,

I fear, for ever: Milan and Naples have

More windows in them of this business’ making,

Than we bring men to comfort them: the fault’s

Your own.

Alon. So is the dearest of the loss.

Gon.                                  My lord Sebastian,

The truth you speak doth lack some gentleness,

And tie to speak it in; you rub the sore,

When you should bring the plaster.

Seb.                                            Very well.

Ant.  And most chirurgeonly.

Gon. It is foul weather in us all, good sir,

When you are cloudy.

Seb.                         Foul weather?

Ant.                                               Very foul.

Gon. Had I a 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 con-

traries

Execute all things: for no kind of traffic

Would I admit; no name of magistrate;

Letters should not be known; no use of service,

Of riches, or of poverty; no contracts,

Successions; bound of land, tilth, vineyard, none:

No use of metal, corn, or wine, or oil:

No occupation; all me idle, all;

And women too; but innocent and pure:

No sovereignty:—

Seb.              And yet he would be king on ‘t.

Ant. The latter end of his commonwealth for-

gets the beginning.                 [duce

Gon. All things in common nature should pro-

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 its own kind, all foison, all abundance,

To feed my innocent people.

Seb. No marrying ‘mong his subjects?

Ant. None, man; all idle; whores and knaves.

Gon. I would with such perfection govern sir.

To excel the golden age.

Seb.                            Save his majesty!

Ant. Long live Gonzalo!

Gon.                 And, do you mark me, sir?—

Alon. Pr’ythee, no more: thou dost talk noth-

ing to me.

Gon. 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.

Ant. ‘Twas you we laugh’d at.

Gon. Who, in this kind of merry fooling, am

nothing to you: so you may continue, and

laugh at nothing still.

Ant. What a blow was there given!

Seb. An it had not fallen flat-long.

Gon. 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.

(On 7/28/14 - We will continue with “The Tempest)

The Tempest


Taken from the Complete Works of William Shakespeare

The Tempest

==========

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ

SCENE, The Sea, with a Ship: afterwards an uninhabited Island.

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

(So have we all) of joy; for our escape [cause        

Is common; every day, some sailor’s wife,

The masters of some merchant, and the mer-

chant,

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.

Alon.                                    Pr’ythee, peace.

Seb. He receives comfort like cold porridge.

Ant. The visitor will not give him o’er so.

Seb. Look, he’s winding up the watch of his

By and by it will strike.                         [wit;

Gon. Sir,—

Seb. One:—Tell.                             [offer’d

Gon. When every grief is entertain’d, that’s

Comes to the entertainer—

Seb. A dollar.

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. Fye, 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. Which of them, he, or Adrian, for a good

wager, first begins to crow?

Seb. The old cock.

Ant. The cockrel.

Seb. Done: the wager?

Ant. A laughter.

Seb. A match.

Adr. Though this island seem to be desert,—

Seb. Ha, ha, ha!

Ant. So, you’ve paid.

Adr. Uninhabitable, and almost inaccessible,—

Seb. Yet,—

Adr. Yet,—

Ant. He could not miss it.

Ar. It must needs be of subtle, tender, and

delicate temperance.

Ant. Temperance was a delicate wench

Seb. Ay, and a subtle; as he most

learnedly delivered.

Adr. The air breathes upon us here most

Seb. As if it had lungs, and rotten ones.

Ant. Or, as ’twere perfumed by a fen.

Gon. Here is everything advantageous to life.

Ant. True; save means to live.

Seb. Of that there’s none, or little.      [green!

Gon. How lush and lusty the grass looks! how

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

dyed, than stained with sale 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  .resh

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 graced 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 raised the wall, and houses too.

Ant. What impossible matter will he make

easy next?

Seb. I think he will carry his island home in

his pocket, an 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 now as fresh as when we were at Tunis at

the 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.

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

Married my daughter there! for, coming thence,

My son is lost; and, in my rate, she too,

Who is so far from Italy removed,

I ne’er again shall see her. I thou mine heir

Of Naples and of Milan, what strange fish

Hath made his meal on thee!

Fran.                                 Sir, he may live;

I saw him beat the surges under him,

And ride upon their backs; he trod the water,

Whose enmity he flung aside, and breasted

The surge most swoln that met him; his bold

head

‘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,

As stooping to relieve him; I not doubt

He came alive to land.

Alon.                          No, no, he’s gone.

Seb. Sir, you may thank yourself for this great

loss;                              [daughter,

That would not bless our Europe with your

But rather lose her to an African;

Where she, at least, is banish’d from you eye,

Who hath cause to wet the grief on ‘t.

Alon.                                     Pr’ythee, peace.

Seb. You were kneel’d to, and importun’d

otherwise.

(On 7/27/14 - We will continue with “The Tempest)

The Tempest


Taken from the Complete Works of William Shakespeare

The Tempest

==========

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ

SCENE, The Sea, with a Ship: afterwards an uninhabited Island.

ACT I.

SCENE II.—The Island; before the Cell of 

                        PROSPERO.

Speak not to him; he’s a traitor.—Come.

I’ll manacle thy neck and feet together:

Sea-water shalt thou drink; thy food shall be

The fresh-brook muscles, wither’d roots, and

husks

Wherein the acorn cradled: Follow.

Fer.                                           No;

I will resist such entertainment, till

Mine enemy has more power.       [He draws.

Mira.                                     O dear father,

Make not too rash a trial of him, for

He’s gentle, and not fearful.

Pro.                                  What, I say,

My foot my tutor! Put thy sword up, traitor;

For I can here disarm thee with this stick,

And make thy weapon drop.

Mira.                               Beseech you, father!

Pro. Hence; hang not on my garments.

Mira.                                       Sir, have pity;

I’ll be his surety.

Pro.                     Silence! one word more

Shall make me chide thee, if not hate thee.

What!

An advocate for an imposter? hush!

Thou  think’st there are no more such shapes

as he,                               [wench!

Having seen but him and Caliban: Foolish

To the ost 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.

Fer.                                    So they are:

My spirits, as in a ream, 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

Behold this maid: all corners else o’ the earth

Let liberty make use of ; space enough

Have I, in such a prison.

Pro.                           It works:—Come on.—

Thou hast done well fine Ariel!—Follow me.—

[To FERD. and MIR.

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.

(On 7/26/14 - We will continue with “The Tempest)

The Tempest


Taken from the Complete Works of William Shakespeare

The Tempest

==========

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ

SCENE, The Sea, with a Ship: afterwards an uninhabited Island.

ACT I.

SCENE II.—The Island; before the Cell of 

                        PROSPERO.

Re-enter ARIEL invisible, playing and singing;

FERDINAND following him.

ARIEL’S SONG.

Come unto these yellow sands.

And then take hands:

Court’sied when you have, and kiss’d.

(The wild waves whist,)

Foot it featly here and there;

And sweet sprites, the burden bear.

Hark, hark!

Bur, Bowgh, wowgh,                  Dispersedly.

The watch-dogs bark:

Bur, Bowgh, wowgh,                  Dispersedly.

Hark, hark! I hear

The strain of strutting chanticlere

Cry, Cock-a-doodle-doo.

Fer.  Where should this music be? i’ the air,

or the earth?

It sounds no more:—and sure it waits upon

Some god of the island Sitting on a bank

Weeping again the king my father’s wrec,

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.

No, it begins again.

ARIEL sings.

Full fathom five thy father lies;

Of his bones are coral made;

Those are pearls that were his yes:

Nothing of him that doth fade,

But doth 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.

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 yong’.

Mira.                               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 senses                          [seest,

As we have, such: This gallant, which thou

Was in the wreck: and but he’s something

stain’d                             [call him

With grief, that’s beauty’s canker, thou might’st

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 thee

Within two days for this.

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 maid or no?

Mira.                       No wonder, sir;

But certainly a maid.

Fer.                        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 Napes;

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,                                  [Aside.

If now ’twere fit to do’t:—At the first sight

They have changed 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 urgently?

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 inclined my way!

Fer.                             O, if a virgin,

And your affection not gone forth, I’ll make you

The queen of Naples

Pro.                      Soft, sir; one word more.—

They are both in either’s powers; but this swift

business

I must uneasy make, lest too light winning [Aside.

Make the prize light.—One word more; I charge

thee,

That thou attend e: thou dost here usurp

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 aman

Mira.  There’s nothing ill can dwell in such a

If the ill spirit have so fair an house, [temple:

Good things will strive to dwell with ‘t.

Pro.                                         Follow me.—

[To FERD.

(On 7/24/14 - We will continue with “The Tempest)

The Tempest


Taken from the Complete Works of William Shakespeare

The Tempest

==========

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ

SCENE, The Sea, with a Ship: afterwards an uninhabited Island.

ACT I.

SCENE II.—The Island; before the Cell of 

                        PROSPERO.

Awake, dear heart, awake! thou hast slept well;

Awake!

Mira. The strangeness of your story put

Heaviness in me.

Pro.                  Shake it off; Come on;

We’ll visit Caliban, my slave who never

Yields us kind answer.

Mira.                          ‘Tis a villain, sir,

I do not love to look on.

Pro.                              But, as ’tis,

We cannot miss him: he does make our fire,

Fetch in our wood; and serves in offices

That profit us. What ho! slave! Caliban!

Thou earth, thou! speak.

Cal. [Within] There’s wood enough within.

Pro. Come forth, I say; there’s other business

for thee:

Come forth, thou tortoise! when?

Re-enter ARIEL, like a water-nymph.

Fine apparition! My quaint Ariel.,

Hark in thine ear.

Ari.              My lord, it shall be done.        Exit.

Pro. Thou poisonous slave, got by the devil

himself

Upon thy wicked dam, come forth!

Enter CALIBAN.

Cal. As wicked dew as e’er my mother brush’d

With raven’s feather from unwholesome fen,

Drop on you both I a south-west blow on ye,

And blister you all o’er.

Pro. 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 honey-combs, each pinch more

stinging

Than bees that made them.

Cal.                                I must eat my dinner.

This island’s mine, by Sycorax my other,

Which thou tak’st from me. When thou camest

first,

Thou stok’dst me, and mad’st 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 shew’d; thee all the qualities o’ the isle,

The fresh springs, brine pits, barren place, and

fertile;

Cursed 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 of the island.

Pro.                             Thou most lying slave,

Whom stripes may move, not kindness: I have

[thee

Filth as thou art, with human care; and lodged

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.

Pro.                                Abhorred slave;

Which any print of goodness will not take,

Being capable of all ill! I pitied thee,

Took pains to make thee speak, taught thee

each hour                            [savage,

One thing or other: when thou didst not,

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,                     [good natures]

Though thou didst learn, had that in’t which

Could not abide to be with: therefore was thou

Deservedly confined into this rock,

Who hadst deserved 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 thou,

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,

Ar’d make a vassal of him.

Pro.                                  So, slave; hence!

[Exit CALIBAN.

(On 7/24/14 -  We will continue with “The Tempest)

The Tempest


Taken from the Complete Works of William Shakespeare

The Tempest

==========

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ

 

SCENE, The Sea, with a Ship: afterwards an uninhabited Island.

ACT I.

SCENE II.—The Island; before the Cell of 

                        PROSPERO.

Pro.                         Oh, was she so? I must,

Once in a month, recount what thou has been.

Which thou forget’st. This damn’d witch,

Sycorax,

For mischiefs manifold, and sorceries terrible

To enter human hearing, from Argier,

Thou know’st, was banished; for one thing she

did,

They would not take her life: Is not this true?

Ari.  Ay, sir.

Pro. This blear-eyed hag was hither brought

with child,                              [slave,

And here was left by the sailors: Thou, my

As thou report’st thyself, 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.

Into a cloven pine; within which rift

Imprison’d, thou didst painfully remain

Thour 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.

Enter ARIEL.

Ari. 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.

Pro.                              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 flamed amazement: Sometimes, I’d divide,

And burn in many places; on the top-mast,

The yards, and bowsprit, would I flame dis

tinctly,

Then meet and join: Jove’s lightnings, the

precursors

O’the dreadful thunder-claps, more momentary

And sight-out-running were not: The fire, and

cracks

Of sulphurous roaring, the most mighty Neptune

Seem’d to besiege, and make his bold waves

Yea, his dread trident shake.            [trember,

Pro.                                        My brave spirit I

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 afire with me: the king’s son, Ferdinand,

With hair up-staring (then like reeds, not hair),

Was the first man that leap’d; cried, Hell is

And all the devils are here!               [empty,

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 dispersed 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.

Pro.                                 Of the king’s ship,

The mariners, says, how thou hast disposed,

And all the rest o’ the fleet?

Ari.                                         Safely in harbour

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

Thou call’dst me up at midnight to fetch dew

From the still-vex’d Bermoothes, there she’s hid

The mariners all under hatches stow’d;

Whom, with a charm join’d to their suffer’d

labour,

I have left asleep: and for the rest o’ the fleet

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.

Pro. Dull thing, I say so; he, that Caliban,

Whom now I keep in service. Thou best know’st

What torment I did find thee in: thy groans

Did make wolves howl, and penetrate the breasts

Of every-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 thee that made gape

The pine, and let thee out.

Ari.                                  I thank thee, master.

Pro. If thou more murmur’st I will rend an

And peg thee in his knotty entrails, till (oak,

Thou hast howl’d away twelve winters.

Ari.                                          Pardon, master:

I will be correspondent to command,

And do my spriting gently.

Pro.                        Do so; and after two days

I will discharge thee.

Ari.                             That’s my noble master!

What shall I do? say what? what shall I do?

Pro. Go, make thyself like to a nymph o’ the

sea;

Be subject to no sight but mine; invisible

To every eye-ball else. Go, take this shape

And hither come in’t: hence, with diligence.

[Exit. ARIEL.

(On 7/23/14 -  We will continue with “The Tempest)

The Tempest


Taken from the Complete Works of William Shakespeare

The Tempest

==========

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ

 

SCENE, The Sea, with a Ship: afterwards an uninhabited Island.

ACT I.

SCENE II.—The Island; before the Cell of 

                        PROSPERO.

Enter ARIEL.

Ari. 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

Arie, and all his quality.

Pro.                             Hast thou, spirit,

Perform’d to point the king’s ship; now on the beak,

Now in the waist, the deck, in every cabin,

I flamed amazement; Sometimes, I’d divid,

And burn in many places; on the top-mast,

The yards, and bowsprit, would I flame dis-

tinctly,

Then meet and join: Jove’s lightnings, the

precursors

O’ the dreadful thunder-claps, more momentary

And sight-out-running were not: The fire, and

cracks

Of sulphurous roaring, the most mighty Neptune

Seem’d to besiege, and make his bold waves

Yea, his dread trident shake.            [tremble,

Pro.                                        My brave spirit I

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 afire with me: the king’s son, Ferdinand,

With hair up-staring (then like reeds, not hair),

Was the first man that leap’d; cried, Hell is

And all the devils are here!                 [empty,

Pro.                                  Why, that’s my spirit I

But was not this nigh shore?

Ari.                                   Close by, my master/

Pro.  But are thy, 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 dispersed them ’bout the isle;

The king’s son have I landed by himself;

Whom I left cooling of the air with sighs,

In and 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 disposed,

And all the rest o’ the fleet?

Ari.                                       Safely in harbour

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

Thou call’dst me up at midnight to fetch dew

From the still-vex’d Bermoothers, there she’s hid

The mariners all under hatches stow’d;

Whom, with a charm join’d to their suffer’d

labour,

I have left asleep: and for the rest o’ the fleet

Which I despersed, they all have met again;

And are upon the Mediterranean flote,

Bound sadly home for Naples;

Supposing that they saw the king’s ship wreck’d,

And his great person perish.

Pro.                                           Ariel, thy charge

Exactly is performed; but there’s more work:

What is the time o’ the day?

Ari.                                 Past the mid season.

Pro. At least two glasses: The time ‘twixt six

and now

Must by us both be spent most preciously.

Ari.   Is there more toil? Since thou dost give

me pains.

Let me remember thee what thou hast promis’d,

Which is not yet perform’d me.

Pro.                                   How now? moody?

What is’t thou canst demand?

Ari.                                            My liberty.

Pro.  Before the time be out? No more!

Ari.                                                  I pray thee

Remember, I have done thee worthy service;

Told thee no lies, made no mistakings, serv’d

Without or grudge or grumblings: thou didst

promise

To bate me a full year.

Pro.                             Dost thou forget

From what a torment I did free thee?

Ari.I                                                    No.

Pro. Thou dost; 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’ the earth,

When it is bak’d with frost.

Ari.                                       I do not, sir.

Pro. Thou liest, malignant thing! Hast thou

               forgot                                  [envy,

The  foul witch, Sycorax, who with age and

Was grown into a hoop? hast thou forgot her?

Ari. No, sir.               

Pro.              Thou hast: Where was she born?

speak; tell me.

Ari. Sir, in Argier.

 

(On 7/22/14 -  We will continue with “The Tempest)

The Tempest


Taken from the Complete Works of William Shakespeare

The Tempest

==========

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ

 

SCENE, The Sea, with a Ship: afterwards an uninhabited Island.

ACT I.

SCENE II.—The Island; before the Cell of 

                        PROSPERO.

Mira.                          O good sir, I do.

Pro. I thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicate

To closeness, and the battering of my mind

With that, which, but by being so retired,

O’er-prized all popular rate, in my false brother

Awaked 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

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) with the king of Naples,

To give him annual tribute, do him homage;

Subject his coronet to his crown, and bend

The dukedom, yet unbowed, (alas, poor Milan!)

To most ignoble stooping.

Mira.                                 I the heavens!

Pro. Mark his condition, and the even; then

If this might be a brother.                  [tell 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!

I, not rememb’ring how I cried out then,

Will cry it o’er again: it is a hint,

That wrings mine eyes to ‘t.

Pro.                                  Hear a little further,

And then I’ll bring thee to the present business

Which now’s upon us; without the which, this

Were most impertinent.                        [story

Mira.                           Wherefore did they not,

That hour, destroy us?

Pro.                             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.

Mira.                             Alack! what trouble

Was I then to you!

Pro.                          I! a cherubim

Thou wast, that did preserve me! Thou didst

smile,

Infused with a fortitude from heaven,

When I have deck’d the sea with drops full salt;

Under my burden groan’d; which raised in me

An undergoing stomach, to bear up

Against what should ensue.

Mira.                               How came we ashore?

Pro. By Providence divine.

Some food we had, an 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 love my books, he furnish’d me,

From my own library, with volumes that

I prize above my dukedom.

Mira.                                Would I might

But ever see that man!

Pro.                         Now I arise:—

Sit still, and hear the last of our sea-sorrow.

Here in this island we arrived; and here

Have I, thy schoolmaster, made thee more profit

Than other princes can, that have more time

For vainer hours, and tutors not so careful.

Mira. Heavens thank you for’t! And now, I

pray you, sir,

(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 auspicious star; whose influence

If now I court not, but omit, my fortunes

Will ever after droop.—Here cease more ques-

tions,

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.

 

(On 7/21/14 -  We will continue with “The Tempest)

The Tempest


Taken from the Complete Works of William Shakespeare

The Tempest

==========

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ

 

SCENE, The Sea, with a Ship: afterwards an uninhabited Island.

ACT I.

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. I, 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 swallowed, and

The freighting souls within her.

Pro.                                            Be collected’

No more amazement; tell your piteous heart,

There’s no harm done.

Mira.                         O, woe the day!

Pro.                                                    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

Thank Prospero, master of a full poor cell,

And thy no greater father.

Mira.                               More to know

Did never meddle with my thoughts.

Pro.                                             ‘Tis time

I should inform thee further. Lend thy hand,

And pluck my magic garment from me.—So;

[Lays down his mantle.

Lie there my art.—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 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 down;

For thou must now now further.

Mira.                                     You have often

Begun to tell me what I am; but stopped,

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?       [not

I do not think thou canst; for then thou wast

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 wit 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 tende me?

Pro. Thou hadst, and more, Miranda: But how

is it,                                              [else

That this lives in thy mind? What seest thou

In the dark backward and abysm of time?

If thou remember’st aught, ere thou cam’st here,

How thou cam’st here, thou mayst.

Mira.                         But that I do not.

Pro. Twelve years since, Miranda, twelve years

since,

Thy father was the Duke of Milan, and

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.                                     I, the heavens!

What foul play had we that we came from thence;

Or blessed was’t, we did?

Pro.                                  Both, both, my girl;

By foul play as thou say’st, were we heaved

thence;

But blessedly holp hither.

Mira.                                O, my heart bleeds

To think o’ the teen that I have turn’d you to,

Which is from my remembrance! Please, you,

further.

Pro. My brother, and thy uncle, call’d An-

tonio—

I pray thee, mark me,—that a brother should

Be so perfidious!–he whom, next thyself,

Of all the world I loved, and to him put

The manage of my state; as, at that time

Through all the signiories it was the first,

And Prospero the prime duke; being so reputed

In dignity, and, for the lieral 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

The creatures that were mine; I say, or chang’d

them,

Or else new form’d them; having both the key

Of officer and office, set all hearts

To what tune pleased 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.

(On 7/20/14 -  We will continue with “The Tempest)

The Tempest


Taken from the Complete Works of William Shakespeare

The Tempest

==========

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ

 

SCENE, The Sea, with a Ship: afterwards an uninhabited Island.

ACT I.

SCENE I.—On a Ship at Sea.—A Storm,

with Thunder and Lightening.

                    Re-enter Boatswain.

Boats. Down with the top-mast; yare; lower,

lower; bring her to try with main-course. A

cry within.] A plague upon this howling! They

are louder than the weather, or our office.—

Re-enter SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, and GONZALO.

Yet again? what do you hear? Shall we give

o’er, and drown? Have you a mind to sink?

Seb. A pox o’ your throat! you bawling, blas-

phemous, incharitable dog!

Boats. Work you, then.

Ant. Hang, cur, hang! you whoreson, insolent

noise-maker, we are less afraid to be drowned

that thou art.

Gon. I’ll warrant him from drowning; though

the ship were no stronger than a nut-shell, and

as leaky as an unstanch’d wench.

Boats. Lay her a-hold: set her two

courses; off to sea again, lay her off.

Enter Mariners, wet.

Mar. All lost! to prayers, to prayers! all lost!

[Exeunt.

Boats. What, must our mouths be cold?

Gon. The king and prince at prayers! let us

assist them,

For our case is as theirs.

Seb. I am out of patience.

Ant. We are merely cheated of our lives by

drunkards.---

This wide-chapp'd rascal' --- Would thou

mightst 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 glut 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.               [Exit.

Seb. Let’s take leave of him.                   [Exit.

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.

(On 7/19/14 -  We will continue with “The Tempest)

The Tempest