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.

Gon. Sir, we were talking, that our garments seem now as fresh, as when we were at Tunis, at the mar riage of your daughter, who is now queen. Ant. And the rarest that e'er came there. Seb. 'Bate, I beseech you, widow Dido. Ant. 0, 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 fished 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. O 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; That would not bless our Europe with your daughter, But rather lose her to an African;

Where she, at least, is banish'd from your eye,
Who hath cause to wet the grief ou't.

Alon. Pr'ythee, peace.

[wise

Seb. You were kneel'd to, and impórtuned otherBy 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 I fear, for ever: Milan and Naples have [your son, More widows 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 time to speak it in: you rub the sore,
When you should bring the plaister.

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 plantation of this isle, my lord-
Ant. He'd sow it with nettle-seed.

Seb. Or docks, or mallows.

Gon. And were the king of it, what would I do?
Seb. 'Scape being drunk, for want of wine.
Gon. I' the commonwealth I would by contraries
Execute all things: for no kind of traffic
Would I admit; no name of magistrate;
Letters should not be known; 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 men 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 forgets the beginning.

Gon. All things in common nature should produce
Without sweat or endeavour: treason, felony,
Sword, pike, knife, gun, or need of any engine t,
Would 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?

[to me. Alon. Pr'ythee, no more; thou dost talk nothing 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. 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.

Enter ARIEL invisible, playing solemn Music, Seb. We would so, and then go a bat-fowling. Ant. Nay, good my lord, be not angry. Gon. No, I warrant you; I will not adventure my discretion so weakly. Will you laugh me asleep, for I am very heavy?

Ant. Go sleep, and hear us.

[All sleep but Alon. Seb. and Ant. Alon. What, all so soon asleep! I wish mine eyes Would, with themselves, shut up my thoughts: I find They are inclined to do so.

Seb. Please you, Sir,

Do not omit the heavy offer of it:

It seldom visits sorrow; when it doth,

It is a comforter.

Ant. We two, my lord,

Will guard your person, while you take your rest, And watch your safety.

Alon. Thank you: wond'rous heavy.

[Alonso sleeps.-Exit Ariel.

Seb. What a strange drowsiness possesses them? Ant. It is the quality o' the climate.

Seb. Why

Doth it not then our eye-lids sink? I find not
Myself disposed to sleep.

Ant. 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 ?-0, what might ?-No more :-
And yet methinks, I see it in thy face,

What thou shouldst be: the occasion speaks thee;
My strong imagination sees a crown
Dropping upon thy head,

Seb. What, art thou waking?

Ant. Do you not hear me speak?

Seb. 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

[and

With eyes wide open; standing, speaking, moving, And yet so fast asleep.

Ant. Noble Sebastian,

Thou let'st thy fortune sleep-die rather; wink'st Whiles thou art waking.

Seb. Thou dost snore distinctly;

There's meaning in thy snores.

Ant. I am more serious than my custom you

Must be so too, if heed me; which to do,
Trebles thee o'er.

Seb. Well; I am standing water.
Ant. I'll teach you how to flow.
Seb. Do so: to ebb,

Hereditary sloth instructs me.

Ant. O,

Ant. Then, tell me, Who's the next heir of Naples? Seb. Claribel.

Seb. 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.

Ant. A space whose every 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 seized 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?
Seb. Methinks, I do.

Ant. And how does your content

Tender your own good fortune?
Seb. I remember,

You did supplant your brother Prospero.
Ant. 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.
Seb. But, for your conscience-

Ant. Ay, Sir; where lies that? If it were 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; 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.

Seb. 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 pay'st;
And I the king shall love thee.

Gon. Heaveus keep him from these beasts!
For he is, sure, i' the island.
Alon. Lead away.

Ari. Prospero my lord shall know what I have
done :
[Aside.

So, king, go safely on to seek thy son. [Exeunt.
SCENE II.—Another part of the Island.
Enter CALIBAN, with a Burden of Wood.
A Noise of Thunder heard.

Cal. All the infections that the sun sucks up
From bogs, fens, flats, on Prosper fall, and make him
By inch-meal a disease! His spirits hear me,
And yet I needs niust curse. But they'll nor pinch, or
Fright me with urchin shows, pitch me i' the mire,
Nor lead me, like a fire-brand, in the dark
Out of my way, unless he bid them; but
For every triffe are they set upon me:
Sometimes like apes, that moe and chatter at me,
And after, bite me; then like hedge-hogs, which
Lie tumbling in my bare-foot way, and mount
Their pricks at my foot-fall: sometime am I
All wound with adders, who, with cloven tongues,
Do hiss me into madness :-Lo! Now! Lo!

Enter TRINCULO.

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

Trin. Here's neither bush nor shrub, to bear off any weather at all, and another storm brewing; I hear it sing i' the wind; yond' same black cloud, yond' huge one, looks like a foul bumbard that would shed his liquor. If it should thunder, as it did before, I know not where to hide my head: yond' same cloud cannot choose but fall by 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; a kind of, not of the newest, Poor-John. A strange fish! Were I in England now (as once I was), and had but this fish painted, not a holiday fool there but would give a piece of silver there would this monster make a man; any strange beast there makes a 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 sutler'd by a thunder-bolt. [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 bedfellows. I will here shroud, till the dregs of the storm be past. Enter STEPHANO, singing; a Bottle in his hand. Ste. I shall no more to sea, to sea, Here shall I die a-shore ;This is a very scurvy tune to sing at a man's funeral: Well here's my comfort. [Drinks

The master, the swabber, the boatswain and 1,
The gunner, and his mate,

Loved Mall, Meg, and Marian, and Margery,
But none of us cared for Kate:
For she had a tongue with a tang,
Would cry to a sailor, Go, hang:
She loved not the savour of tur nor of pitch,
Yet a tailor might scratch her where-e'er she did itch:
Then to sea, boys, and let her go hang.
This is a scurvy tune too: but here's my comfort.
[Drinks.

Cal. Do not torment me: 0!

Ste. What's the matter? Have we devils here? Do you put tricks upon us with savages, and men of Inde's Ha! I have not 'scaped 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.

Cal. The spirit torments me: 0!

Ste. This is some mouster 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 re- 1 cover 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.

Cal. Do not torment me, pry'thee: I'll bring my wood home faster.

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

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

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

Trin. I should know that voice: it should be-but he is drown'd and these are devils: O! defend me! Ste. 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.

Trin. Stephano,

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

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

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

Trin. I took him to be kill'd with a thunderstroke-But art thou not drown'd, Stephano? I hope now thou art 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 'scaped! Ste. Pr'ythee, do not turn me about; my stomach

is not constant.

Cal. These be fine things, an if they be not sprites. That's a brave god, and bears celestial liquor: I will kneel to him.

Ste. How didst thou 'scape? How cam'st thou hither? Swear by this bottle, how thou cam'st hither. I escaped upon a butt of sack, which the sailors heaved over-board, by this bottle! Which I made of the bark of a tree, with mine own hands, since I was cast ashore.

Cal. I'll swear upon that bottle, to be thy true subject; for the liquor is not earthly.

Ste. Here; swear then how thou escap'dst. Trin. Swam a-shore, man, like a duck; I can swim like a duck, I'll be sworn.

Ste. Here, kiss the book: though thou canst swim like a duck, thou art made like a goose.

Trin, O Stephano, hast any more of this? Ste. The whole butt, man; my cellar is in a rock by the sea-side, where my wine is hid, How now, mooncalf? How does thine ague?

Cal. Hast thou not dropp'd from heaven? Ste. Out o' the moon, I do assure thee: I was the man in the moon, when time was.

Cal. I have seen thee in her, and I do adore thee: my mistress shew'd me thee, thy dog and bush. Ste. Come, swear to that; kiss the book; I will furnish it anon with new contents: swear.

Trin. By this good light, this is a very shallow monster :-Iafeard of him?—A very weak monster: The man i the moon?-A most poor credulous monster:-Well drawn, monster, in good sooth. Cal. I'll shew thee every fertile inch o' the island; and kiss thy foot: I pr'ythee be my god.

Trin. By this light, a most perfidious and drunken monster; when his god's asleep, he'll rob his bottle. Cal. I'll kiss thy foot: I'll swear myself thy subject.

Ste. Come on then; down, and swear.

Trin. I shall laugh myself to death at this puppyheaded monster: a most scurvy monster! I could find in my heart to beat him,—

Ste. Come, kiss.

• Stool.

Trin. but that the poor monster's in drink: An abominable monster! [berries;

Cal. I'll shew thee the bost springs: I'll pluck thee 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 wond'rous man.

Trin. A most ridiculous monster: to make a won der of a poor drunkard.

Cal. I pr'ythee, let me bring thee where crabs grow;

And I with my long nails will dig thee pig-nnts:
Shew thee a jay's nest, and instruct thee how
To snare the nimble marmozet; I'll bring thee
To clustering filberds, and sometimes I'll get thee
Young sea-mells⚫ from the rock: wilt thou go with
me?

Ste. I pry'thee now, lead the way, without any more talking.-Trinculo, the king and all our conipany else being drown'd, we will inherit here. Here; bear my bottle. Fellow Trinculo, we'll fill him by and by again.

Cal. Farewell master ; farewell, farewell.
(Sings drunkenly
Trin. A howling monster; a drunken monster.
Cal. No more dams I'll make for fish ;
Nor fetch in firing

At requiring,

Nor scrape trencher, nor wash dish;
'Ban 'Ban, Ca-Caliban,

Has a new master-Get a new man.

Freedom, hey-day! Hey-day, freedom! Freedom, hey-day, freedom!

Ste. O brave monster! Lead the way! [Exeunt.

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 'tis 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 composed of harshness. I must remove
Some thousand of these logs, and pile them up,
Upon a sore injunction: my sweet mistress
Weeps when she sees me work; and says, such base-
Had ne'er like executor. I forget:
[ness
But these sweet thoughts do even refresh my la-
Most busy-less, when I do it.
[bours:

Enter MIRANDA; and PROSPERO at a distance.
Mira. 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.

Fer. O most dear mistress,

The sun will set, before I shall discharge
What I must strive to do.

Mira. If you'll sit down,

I'll bear your logs the while: pray, give me that; I'll carry it to the pile.

Fer. No, precious creature:

I had rather crack my sinews, break my back,
Than you should such dishonour undergo,
While I sit lazy by.

Mira. It would become me
As well as it does you and I should do it
With much more ease; for my good will is to it,
And yours against.

Pro. Poor worm! Thou art infected: This visitation shews it.

Mira. You look wearily.

Fer. No, noble mistress; 'tis fresh morning with When you are by at night. I do besceech you, [me, (Chiefly, that I might set it in my prayers,) What is your name?

Mira. Miranda :-O my father,

I have broke your hest to say so!
Fer. Admired Miranda!

Indeed the top of admiration; worth
What's dearest to the world! Full many a lady

I have eyed with best regard; and many a time
The harmony of their tongues hath into bondage
Brought my too diligent ear: for several virtues
Have I liked several women; never any
With so full soul, but soine defect in her
Did quarrel with the noblest grace she owed⚫,
And put it to the foil: but you, O you,
So perfect, and so peerless, are created
Of every creature's best.

Mira. I do not know

One of my sex; no woman's face remember,
Save, from my glass, mine own; nor have I seen
More that I may call men, than you, good friend,
And my dear father: how features are abroad,
I am skill-less of; but, by my inodesty,
(The jewel in my dower,) I would not wish
Any companion in the world but you;
Nor can imagination form a shape,
Besides yourself, to like of: but I prattle
Something too wildly, and my father's precepts
Therein forget.

Fer. I am, in my condition,

A prince, Miranda; I do think, a king;

(I would, not so!) And would no more endure
This wooden slavery, than I would suffer

The flesh-fly blow my mouth.-Hear my soul speak:
The very instant that I saw you, did
My heart fly to your service; there resides,
To make me slave to it; and, for your sake,
Am I this patient log-man.

Mira. Do you love me?

Fer. O heaven, O earth, bear witness to this sound, And crown what I profess with kind event,

If I speak true; if hollowly, invert

What best is boded me, to mischief! I,

Beyond all limit of what else t, i' the world,
Do love, prize, honour you.

Mira. I am a fool,

To weep at what I am glad of.

Pro. Fair encounter

Of two most rare affections! Heavens rain grace On that which breeds between them!

Fer. Wherefore weep you?

Mira. At mine unworthiness, that dare not offer What I desire to give; and much less take, What I shall die to want: but this is trifling; And all the more it seeks to hide itself,

The bigger bulk it shews. Hence, bashful cunning! And prompt me, plain and holy innocence!

I am your wife, if you will marry me;

If not, I'll die your maid: to be your fellow
You may deny me; but I'll be your servant,
Whether you will or no.

Fer. My mistress, dearest,

And I thus humble ever!

Mira. My husband then?

Fer. Ay, with a heart as willing

As bondage e'er of ireedom: here's my hand. Mira. And mine, with my heart in't: and now farewell,

Till half an hour hence.

SCENE II.-Another part of the Island. Enter STEPHANO and TRINCULO; CALIBAN following with a Bottle.

Ste. Tell not me;-when the butt is out, we will drink water; not a drop before: therefore bear up, and board 'em servant-monster, drink to me.

Trin. Servant-monster? The folly of this Island! They say, there's but five upon this isle: we are three of them; if the other two be brain'd like us, the state totters.

Ste. Drink, servant-monster, when I bid thee; thy eyes are almost set in thy head.

Trin. Where should they be set else? He were a brave monster indeed, if they were set in his tail. Ste. My man-monster hath drown'd his tongue in sack for my part, the sea cannot drown me: I swam, ere I could recover the shore, five and thirty Jeagues, off and on, by this light.-Thou shalt be my lieutenant, monster, or my standard.

Trin. Your lieutenant, if you list; he's no standard. Ste. We'll not run, monsieur monster. + Whatsoever.

• Owned.

Trin. Nor go nolther: but you'll lie, like dogs; and yet say nothing neither.

Ste. Moon-calf, speak once in thy life, if thou beest a good moon-calf.

Cal. How does thy honour? Let me lick thy shoe: I'll not serve him, he is not valiant.

Trin. Thou liest, most ignorant monster; I am in case to justle a constable: why, thou debosh'd fish thou, was there ever man a coward, that hath drunk so much sack as I to-day? Wilt thou tell a monstrous lie, being but half a fish, and half a monster?

Cal. Lo, how he mocks me! Wilt thou let him, my lord?

Trin. Lord, quoth he!-That a monster should be such a natural!

Cal. Thou shalt be lord of it, and I'll serve thee. Ste. How now shall this be compass'd? Caust thou bring me to the party?

Cal. Yea, yea, my ford; I'll yield him thee asleep, Where thou may'st knock a nail into his head. Ari. Thou hest, thou canst not.

(patch,

Cal. What a pied ninny's this! Thou scurvy I do beseech thy greatness, give him blows, And take his bottle from him: when that's gone, He shall drink nought but brine; for I'll not slew him Where the quick freshes Į are.

Ste. Trinculo, run into no further danger: interrupt the monster one word further, and, by this hand, I'll turn my mercy out of doors, and make a stock-fish of thee.

Trin. Why, what did I? I did nothing; I'll go further off.

Ste. Didst thou not say, he lied?
Ari. Thou liest.

Ste. Do I so? Take thou that. [Strikes him.] As you like this, give me the lie another time.

Trin. I did not give the lie:-Out o' your wits, and hearing too?-A pox o' your bottle! This can sack, and drinking do.-A murrain on your monster, and the devil take your fingers!

Cal. Ha, ha, ha!

Ste. Now, forward with your tale. Pr'ythee stand further off.

Cal. Beat him enough: after a little time, I'll beat him too.

Ste. Stand further.-Come, proceed.

Cal. Why, as I told thee, 'tis a custom with him I' the afternoon to sleep: there thou may'st brain him,

Having first seized his books; or with a log
Batter his skull, or paunch him with a stake,
Or cut his wezand with thy knife: remember,
First to possess his books; for without them
He's but a sot, as I am, nor hath not
One spirit to command: they all do hate him,
As rootedly as 1: burn but his books;
He has brave utensils, (for so he calls them,)
Which, when he has a house, he'll deck withal.
And that most deeply to consider, is
The beauty of his daughter; he himself
Calls her a non-pareil: I ne'er saw woman,
But only Sycorax my dam, and she;

Ste. Give me thy hand; I am sorry I beat thee: but, while thou livest, keep a good tongue in thy head.

Cal. Within this half hour will he be asleep; Wilt thou destroy him then?

Ste. Ay, on mine honour.

Ari. This will I tell my master.

Cal. Thou makest me merry: I am full of pleasure; Let us be jocund: Will you troll the catch You taught me but while-ere?

Ste. At thy request, monster, I will do reason, any reason: come on, Trinculo, let us sing. [Sings. Flout 'em and skout'em; and skout 'em, and flout

Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments
Will hum about mine ears: and sometimes voices,
That, if I then had waked after long sleep,
Will make me sleep again: and then, in dreaming,
The clouds, methought, would open, and shew riches
Ready to drop upon me; that, when I waked,
I cried to dream again.

Ste. This will prove a brave kingdom to me,
Where I shall have my music for nothing.
Cal. When Prospero is destroy'd.

Ste. That shall be by and by: I remember the

story.

Trin. The sound is going away: let's follow it, and after, do our work.

Ste. Lead, monster; we'll follow.-I would, I could see this taborer: he lays it on. Trin. Wilt come? I'll follow, Stephano. [Exeunt.

SCENE III.-Another part of the Island. Enter ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, GONZALO, ADRIAN, FRANCISCO, and others.

Gon. By'r lakin, I can go no further, Sir; My old bones ache: here's a maze trod, indeed, Through forth-rights, and meanders! By your patience,

I needs must rest me.

Alon. Old lord, I cannot blame thee, Who am myself attach'd with weariness, To the dulling of my spirits: sit down, and rest. Even here I will put off my hope, and keep it No longer for my flatterer: he is drown'd, Whom thus we stray to find; and the sea mocks Our frustrate search on land; Well, let him go. Ant. I am right glad that he's so out of hope. [Aside to Sebastian. Do not, for one repulse, forego the purpose That you resolved to effect.

Seb. The next advantage

Will we take thoroughly.

Ant. Let it be to-night;

For, now they are oppress'd with travel, they
Will not, nor cannot, use such vigilance,
As when they are fresh.

Seb. I say, to-night: no more.

Solemn and strange music; and PROSPERO above, invisible. Enter several strange Shapes, bringing in a banquet; they dance about it with gentle actions of salutation; and, inviting the king, &c. to eat, they depart.

• Our Lady.

Alon. What harmony is this? My good friends, Gon. Marvellous sweet music! (hark;

Alon. Give us kind keepers, heavens! What were these?

Seb. A living drollery: now I will believe, That there are unicorns; that, in Arabia There is one tree, the phoenix' throne; one phoenix At this hour reigning there.

Ant. I'll believe both;

And what does else want credit, come to me,
And I'll be sworn 'tis true: travellers ne'er did lie,
Though fools at home condemn them.
Gon. If in Naples

I should report this now, would they believe me?
If I should say, I saw such islanders,

(For, certest, these are people of the island,)
Who, though they are of monstrous shape, yet,
note,

Their manners are more gentle-kind, than of
Our human generation you should find
Many, nay, almost any.

Pro. Honest lord,

Thou hast said well; for some of
Are worse than devils.

Alon. I cannot too much muset, Such shapes, such gesture, and such sound, express (Although they want the use of tongue,) a kind

Of excellent dumb discourse.
Pro. Praise in departing.

Fran. They vanish'd strangely.
Seb. No matter, since

you there present,

[Aside.

[ing

{Aside.

They have left their viands behind; for we have stomachs.

Will't please you taste of what is here?

Alon. Not I.

Who would believe that there were mountaineers,
Dew-lapp'd like bulls, whose throats had hanging
at them
Wallets of flesh? Or that there were such men,
Whose heads stood in their breasts? Which now we
find,

Each putter-out on five for one, will bring us
Good warrant of.

Alon. I will stand to, and feed,
Although my last: no matter, since I feel
The best is past:-Brother, my lord the duke,
Stand too, and do as we.

Thunder and lightning.—Enter ARIEL, like a harpy, claps his wings upon the table, and, with a quaint device, the banquet vanishes.

Ari. You are three men of sin, whom destiny (That hath to instrument this lower world, And what is in't) the never surfeited sea Hath caused to belch up; and on this island Where man doth not inhabit; you 'mongst men Being most unfit to live. I have made you mad; [Seeing Alon. Seb., &c. draw their swords. And even with such like valour, men hang and drown

Their proper selves. You fools! I and my fellows Are ministers of fate; the elements

Of whom your swords are temper'd, may as well
Wound the loud winds, or with bemock'd-at stabs
Kill the still-closing waters, as diminish

One dowles that's in my plume; my fellow ministers
Are like invulnerable: if you could hurt,
Your swords are now too massy for your strengths,
And will not be uplifted: but, remember,
(For that's my business to you,) that you three
From Milan did supplant good Prospero;
Exposed unto the sea, which hath requit it,
Him, and his innocent child: for which foul deed
The powers, delaying, not forgetting, have
Incensed the seas and shores, yea, all the creatures
Against your peace: thee, of thy son, Alonso,
They have bereft; and do pronounce by me,
Lingering perdition (worse than any death
Can be at once,) shall step by step attend
You, and your ways; whose wraths to guard you