From me he got it. If thy greatness will Revenge it on him,-for I know thou darest, But this thing dare not,

Ste. That's most certain.

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

Cal. Yea, yea, my lord: I'll yield him thee asleep, Where thou mayst knock a nail into his head. Ari. Thou liest; 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 show Where the quick freshes are. [him Ste. Trinculo, run into no further danger: interrupt the monster one word further, and, by this hand, I'll turn my mercy out o' doors and make a stock-fish of thee.

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

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

Ste. Do I so? take thou that. [Beats Trin.] you like this, give me the lie another time.

As

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!

[farther off. Ste. Now, forward with your tale. Prithee, stand Cal. Beat him enough: after a little time I'll beat him too.

Ste.

Stand farther. Come, proceed.
Cal. Why, as I told thee, 't is a custom with him,
I'th' afternoon to sleep: there thou mayst 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 I. 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 nonpareil: I never saw a woman,
But only Sycorax my dam and she;
But she as far surpasseth Sycorax
As great'st does least.
Ste.

Is it so brave a lass?

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.
[ure:
Cal. Thou makest me merry; I am full of pleas-
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
Come on, Trinculo, let us sing.
Flout 'em and scout 'em

reason.

And scout 'em and flout 'em;
Thought is free.

Cal. That's not the tune.

[Sings.

Cal. Be not afeard; the isle is full of noises, [not. Sounds and sweet airs, that give delight and hurt Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments Will hum about mine ears, and sometime 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 show 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 destroyed.

[story. Ste. That shall be by and by: I remember the 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 pa-
I needs must rest me.
[tience,
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. [Aside to Seb.] I am right glad that he's so
out of hope.

Do not, for one repulse, forego the purpose
That you resolved to effect.

Seb. [Aside to Ant.] The next advantage Will we take throughly.

Ant. [Aside to Seb.] 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.

[Aside to Ant.] I say, to-night: no more. [Solemn and strange music. Alon. What harmony is this? My good friends, Gon. Marvellous sweet music! [hark! Enter several

Enter Prospero above, invisible.

strange Shapes, bringing in a banquet; they dance about it with gentle actions of salutation; and, inviting the King, &c. to eat, they depart.

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 't is true: travellers ne'er did lie, Though fools at home condemn 'em. If in Naples

Gon.

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

Pros.

[Aside] Praise in departing. Fran. They vanish'd strangely. Seb. No matter, since They have left their viands behind; for we have stomachs.

Will 't please you taste of what is here?
Alon.

Not I. Gon. Faith, sir, you need not fear. When we were boys,

Who would believe that there were mountaineers Dew-lapp'd like bulls, whose throats had hanging at 'em

Wallets of flesh? or that there were such men
Whose heads stood in their breasts? which now we
Each putter-out of five for one will bring us [find
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 to 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 you; and on this island Where man doth not inhabit; you 'mongst men Being most unfit to live. I have made you mad; And even with such-like valour men hang and Their proper selves. [drown [Alon., Seb., &c. draw their swords. 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 dowle 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 [from-
You and your ways; whose wraths to guard you
Which here, in this most desolate isle, else falls
Upon your heads-is nothing but heart-sorrow
And a clear life ensuing.

He vanishes in thunder; then, to soft music, enter the Shapes again, and dance, with mocks and mows, and carrying out the table.

Pros. Bravely the figure of this harpy hast thou Perform'd, my Ariel; a grace it had, devouring: Of my instruction hast thou nothing bated In what thou hadst to say: so, with good life And observation strange, my meaner ministers Their several kinds have done. My high charms And these mine enemies are all knit up [work In their distractions; they now are in my power; And in these fits I leave them, while I visit Young Ferdinand, whom they suppose is drown'd, And his and mine loved darling. [Exit above. Gon. I' the name of something holy, sir, why stand In this strange stare? [you

ACT

SCENE I.- Before Prospero's cell. Enter Prospero, Ferdinand, and Miranda. Pros. If I have too austerely punish'd you, Your compensation makes amends, for I Have given you here a thrid of mine own life, Or that for which I live; who once again I tender to thy hand: all thy vexations Were but my trials of thy love, and thou Hast strangely stood the test: here, afore Heaven, I ratify this my rich gift. O Ferdinand, Do not smile at me that I boast her off, For thou shalt find she will outstrip all praise And make it halt behind her. Fer.

Against an oracle.

I do believe it

Pros. Then, as my gift and thine own acquisition Worthily purchased, take my daughter: but

IV.

If thou dost break her virgin-knot before
All sanctimonious ceremonies may
With full and holy rite be minister'd,
No sweet aspersion shall the heavens let fall
To make this contract grow; but barren hate,
Sour-eyed disdain and discord shall bestrew
The union of your bed with weeds so loathly
That you shall hate it both: therefore take heed,
As Hymen's lamps shall light you.
Fer.
As I hope

For quiet days, fair issue and long life,
With such love as 't is now, the murkiest den,
The most opportune place, the strong'st suggestion
Our worser genius can, shall never melt
Mine honour into lust, to take away

The edge of that day's celebration

When I shall think, or Phoebus' steeds are founder'd,
Or Night kept chain'd below.
Pros.

Fairly spoke.

Pros. Ay, with a twink.

Presently?

Ari. Before you can say 'come' and 'go,'
And breathe twice and cry 'so, so,'
Each one, tripping on his toe,
Will be here with mop and mow.
Do you love me, master? no?

Pros. Dearly, my delicate Ariel. Do not approach Till thou dost hear me call.

Ari. Well, I conceive. [Exit. Pros. Look thou be true; do not give dalliance Too much the rein: the strongest oaths are straw To the fire i' the blood: be more abstemious, Or else, good-night your vow! Fer.

I warrant you, sir; The white cold virgin snow upon my heart Abates the ardour of my liver.

Well.

Pros. Now come, my Ariel! bring a corollary, Rather than want a spirit: appear, and pertly! No tongue! all eyes! be silent. [Soft music.

Enter Iris.

Iris. Ceres, most bounteous lady, thy rich.leas Of wheat, rye, barley, vetches, oats and pease; Thy turfy mountains, where live nibbling sheep, And flat meads thatch'd with stover, them to keep; Thy banks with pioned and twilled brims, Which spongy April at thy hest betrims, [groves, To make cold nymphs chaste crowns; and thy broomWhose shadow the dismissed bachelor loves, Being lass-lorn; thy pole-clipt vineyard; And thy sea-marge, sterile and rocky-hard, Where thou thyself dost air;-the queen o' the sky, Whose watery arch and messenger am I, Bids thee leave these, and with her sovereign grace, Here on this grass-plot, in this very place, To come and sport: her peacocks fly amain: Approach, rich Ceres, her to entertain.

Juno. How does my bounteous sister? Go with me
To bless this twain, that they may prosperous be
And honour'd in their issue.
[They sing:

Juno. Honour, riches, marriage-blessing,
Long continuance, and increasing,
Hourly joys be still upon you!
Juno sings her blessings on you.

Cer. Earth's increase, foison plenty,
Barns and garners never empty,

Vines with clustering bunches growing,
Plants with goodly burthen bowing;
Spring come to you at the farthest
In the very end of harvest!

Scarcity and want shall shun you;
Ceres' blessing so is on you.

Fer. This is a most majestic vision, and
Harmonious charmingly. May I be bold
To think these spirits?
Pros.

Spirits, which by mine art
I have from their confines call'd to enact
My present fancies.

Fer.

Let me live here ever;
So rare a wonder'd father and a wife
Makes this place Paradise.

[Juno and Ceres whisper, and send
Iris on employment.
Sweet, now, silence!

Pros. Juno and Ceres whisper seriously; There's something else to do: hush, and be mute, Or else our spell is marr'd. [brooks,

Iris. You nymphs, call'd Naiads, of the windring With your sedged crowns and ever-harmless looks, Leave your crisp channels and on this green land Answer your summons; Juno does command: Come, temperate nymphs, and help to celebrate A contract of true love; be not too late.

Enter certain Nymphs.

You sunburnt sicklemen, of August weary,
Come hither from the furrow and be merry:
Make holiday; your rye-straw hats put on
And these fresh nymphs encounter every one
In country footing.

Enter certain Reapers, properly habited: they join with the Nymphs in a graceful dance; towards the end whereof Prospero starts suddenly, and speaks; after which, to a strange, hollow, and confused noise, they heavily vanish.

Pros. [Aside] I had forgot that foul conspiracy Of the beast Caliban and his confederates Against my life: the minute of their plot [no more! Is almost come. [To the Spirits.] Well done! avoid; Fer. This is strange: your father's in some passion That works him strongly.

Mir.

Never till this day Saw I him touch'd with anger so distemper'd. Pros. You do look, my son, in a moved sort, As if you were dismay'd: be cheerful, sir. Our revels now are ended. These our actors, As I foretold you, were all spirits and Are melted into air, into thin air: And, like the baseless fabric of this vision, The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces, The solemn temples, the great globe itself, Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve And, like this insubstantial pageant faded, Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff