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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 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


Taken from the Complete Works of William Shakespeare

The Tempest

==========

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ

 

ALONSO, King of Naples.                                      STEPHANO, a drunken Butler.

SEBASTIAN, his brother.                                        Master of a Ship, Boatswain, and Mariners.

PROSPERO, the rightful Duke of Milan.                MIRANDA, daughter to PROSPERO.

ANTONIO, his brother, the usurping Duke of         ARIEL, an airy Spirit.

Milan.                                                            IRIS, a Spirit.

FERDINAND, son to the King of Naples.                CERES, a Spirit.

GONZALO, an honest old Counsellor of Naples.   JUNO, a Spirit.

ADRIAN, a. Lord.                                                    Nymphis, a Spirit.

FRANCISCO, a Lord.                                              Reapers, a Spirit.

CALIBAN, a savage and deformed Slave.

TRINCULO, a Jester.

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.

Enter a Shipmaster and a Boatswain.

Master. Boatswain,—

Boats. Here, master: what cheer?

Master. Good: Speak to the mariners: fall to ‘t

yarley, or we run ourselves aground; bestir,

bestir.                                                  [Exit.

Enter Mariners.

Boats. Heigh, my hearts; cheerly, cheerly, my

hearts; yare, yare: take in the top-sail; ‘Tend

to the master’s whistle.—Blow till thou burst

thy wind, if room enough!

Enter ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO,

FERDINAND, GONZALO, and others.

Alon. Good Boatswain, have care. Where’s

the master? Play the me.

Boats. I pray now, keep below.

Ant. Where is the master, Boatswain?

Boats. Do you not bear him? You mar our

labour; keep your cabins: you do assist the

storm.

Gon. Nay, good, be patient.

Boats. When the sea is. Hence! What care

these roarers for the name of king? To cabin:

silence: trouble us not.

Gon. Good; yet remember whom thou hast

aboard.

Boats. None that I more love than myself.

You are a counsellor: if you can command

these elements to silence, and work the peace

of the present, we will not hand a rope more;

use your authority. If you cannot, give thanks

you have lived so long, and make yourself

ready in your cabin for the mischance of the

hour, if it so hap.—Cheerly, good hearts.—

Out of our way, I say.                          [Exit.

Gon.  I have great comfort from this fellow:

methinks he hath no drowning mark upon him;

his complexion is perfect gallows. Stand fast,

good fate, to his hanging! make the rope of his

destiny our cable, for our own doth little ad-

vantage! If he be not born to the hanged, our

case is miserable.                              [Exeunt.

(On 7/18/14 -  We will continue with “The Tempest)

The Tempest


Taken from the Complete Works of William Shakespeare

Merry Wives of Windsor

Act. V, Pg. 70-71

SCENE V. (cont’d)—Another part of the Park.

Enter SLENDER.

Slen. Who—ho! ho! father Page!

Page. Son! how now? how now, son? have you

dispatched?

Slen. Dispatched!—I’ll make the best in Glou-

cestershire know on’t; would I were hanged,

la else.

Page. Of what, son?

Slen. I came yonder at Eton to marry Mis-

tress Anne Page, and she’s a great lubberly

boy. If it had not been i’ the church I would

have swinged him, or he should have swinged

me. If I did not think it had been Anne Page,

would I might never stir, and ’tis a post-

master’s boy.

Page. Upon my life then you took the wrong.

Slen. What need you tell me that? I think so,

when I took a boy for a girl. If iI had been

married to him, for all he was in woman’s ap-

parel, I would not have had him.

Page. Why, this is your own folly. Did not I

tell you how you should know my daughter

by her garments?

Slen. I went to her in white and cried mum,

and she cried budget, as Anne and I had ap-

pointed; and yet it was not Anne, but a post-

master’s boy.

Eva. Jeshu! Master Slender, cannot you see

but marry boys?

Page. Oh, I am vexed at heart: what shall I do?

Mrs. Page. Good George, be not angry: I knew

of your purpose; turned my daughter into

green; and, indeed, she is now with the doctor

at the deanery, and there married.

Enter CAIUS.

Caius. Vere is Mistress Page? By gar, I am

cozened; I ha’ married un grarcon, a boy; un

paisan, by gar, a boy; it is not Anne Page: by

gar, I am cozened.

Mrs. Page. Why, did you take her in green?

Caius. Ay, by gar, and ’tis a boy:by gar, I’ll

raise all Windsor.                      [Exit CAIUS.

Ford. This is strange. Who hath got the right

Anne?

Page. My heart misgives me:—here comes

Master Fenton.

Enter FENTON and ANNE PAGE.

How now, Master Fenton?

Anne. Pardon, good father! good my mother,

pardon!

Page. Now, Mistress, how chance you went

not with Master Slender?

Mrs. Page. Why went you not with master

doctor, maid?

Fent. You do amaze her: Hear the truth of it.

In love, the heavens themselves do guide the

state;

Money buys lands, and wives are sold by fate.

Fal. I am glad, though you have ta’en a spe-

cial stand to strike at me, that your arrow hath

glanced.

Page. Well, what remedy? Fenton, heaven give

thee joy!

What cannot be eschewed must be embraced.

Fal. When night-dogs run all sorts of deer are

chased.

Eva. I will dance and eat plums at your

wedding.

Mrs. Page. Well, I will mse no further:—

Master Fenton,

Heaven give you many, many merry days!—

Good husband, let us every one go home,

And laugh this sport o’er by a country fire;

Sir John and all.

Ford. Let it be so:—Sir John.

To Master Brook you yet shall hold your word;

For he, to-night, shall lie with Mistress Ford.

[Exeunt.

The End

(On 7/17/14 - Join me for “The Tempest)

The Tempest