The Tempest (Rackham)/Act 3
ACT THE THIRD.
SCENE I.
Before Prospero’s cell.
Enter Ferdinand, bearing a log.
Ferdinand.
Delight in them sets off: some kinds of baseness
Are nobly undergone and most poor matters
Point to rich ends. This my mean task
Would be as heavy to me as odious, but
The mistress which I serve quickens what ’s dead
And makes my labours pleasures: O, she is
Ten times more gentle than her father ’s crabbed,
And he ’s composed of harshness. I must remove
Some thousands of these logs and pile them up,
Upon a sore injunction: my sweet mistress
Weeps when she sees me work, and says, such baseness
Had never like executor. I forget:
But these sweet thoughts do even refresh my labours,
Most busiest, when I do it.
Enter Miranda; and Prospero at a distance, unseen.
Miranda.
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,
’T will weep for having wearied you. My father
Is hard at study; pray now, rest yourself;
He ’s safe for these three hours.
Ferdinand.
The sun will set before I shall discharge
What I must strive to do.
Miranda.
Ill bear your logs the while: pray, give me that;
I'll carry it to the pile.
Ferdinand.
I had rather crack my sinews, break my back,
Than you should such dishonour undergo,
While I sit lazy by.
Miranda.
As well as it does you: and I should do it
With much more ease; for my good will is to it,
And yours it is against.
Prospero.
This visitation shows it.
Miranda.
This visitation shows it. You look wearily.
Ferdinand.
When you are by at night. I do beseech you—
Chiefly that I might set it in my prayers—
What is your name?
Miranda.
I have broke your hest to say so!
Ferdinand.
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 some 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!
Miranda.
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,
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
I therein do forget.
Ferdinand.
A prince, Miranda; I do think, a king;
I would, not so!—and would no more endure
This wooden slavery than to 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.
Miranda.
Ferdinand.
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 i’ the world
Do love, prize, honour you.
Miranda.
To weep at what I am glad of.
Prospero.
Of two most rare affections! Heavens rain grace
On that which breeds between ‘em!
Ferdinand.
Miranda.
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 shows. Hence, bashful cunning!
And prompt me, plain and holy innocence!
I am your wife, if you will marry me;
If not, I die your maid: to be your fellow
You may deny me; but I ’ll be your servant,
Whether you will or no.
Ferdinand.
And I thus humble ever.
Miranda.
And I thus humble ever. My husband, then?
Ferdinand.
As bondage e’er of freedom: here ’s my hand.
Miranda.
Till half an hour hence.
Ferdinand.
[Exeunt Ferdinand and Miranda severally.
Prospero.
Who are surprised withal; but my rejoicing
At nothing can be more. I ’ll to my book,
For yet ere supper-time must I perform
Much business appertaining.
SCENE II.
Another part of the island.
Enter Caliban, Stephano, and Trinculo.
Stephano.
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.
Trinculo.
Servant-monster! the folly of this island! They say there ’s but five upon this isle: we are three of them; if th’ other two be brained like us, the state totters.
Stephano.
Drink, servant-monster, when I bid thee: thy eyes are almost set in thy head.
Trinculo.
Where should they be set else? he were a brave monster indeed, if they were set in his tail.
Stephano.
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 leagues off and on. By this light, thou shalt be my lieutenant, monster, or my standard.
Trinculo.
Your lieutenant, if you list; he ’s no standard.
Stephano.
We ’ll not run, Monsieur Monster.
Trinculo.
Nor go neither; but you’ll lie like dogs and yet say nothing neither.
Stephano.
Moon-calf, speak once in thy life, if thou beest a good moon-calf.
Caliban.
How does thy honour? Let me lick thy shoe. Ill not serve him; he’s not valiant.
Trinculo.
Thou liest, most ignorant monster: I am in case to justle a constable. Why, thou deboshed 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?
Caliban.
Lo, how he mocks me! wilt thou let him, my lord?
Trinculo.
“Lord” quoth he! That a monster should be such a natural!
Caliban.
Lo, lo, again! bite him to death, I prithee.
Stephano.
Trinculo, keep a good tongue in your head: if you prove a mutineer,—the next tree! The poor monster’s my subject and he shall not suffer indignity.
Caliban.
I thank my noble lord. Wilt thou be pleased to hearken once again to the suit I made to thee?
Stephano.
Marry, will I; kneel and repeat it; I will stand, and so shall Trinculo.
Enter Ariel, invisible.
Caliban.
As I told thee before, I am subject to a tyrant, a sorcerer, that by his cunning hath cheated me of the island.
Ariel.
Thou liest.
Caliban.
I would my valiant master would destroy thee!
I do not lie.
Stephano.
Trinculo, if you trouble him any more in ’s tale, by this hand, I will supplant some of your teeth.
Trinculo.
Why, I said nothing.
Stephano.
Mum, then, and no more. Proceed.
Caliban.
From me he got it. If thy greatness will
Revenge it on him,—for I know thou darest,
But this thing dare not,—
Stephano.
That ’s most certain.
Caliban.
Thou shalt be lord of it and I ’ll serve thee.
Stephano.
How now shall this be compassed? Canst thou bring me to the party?
Caliban.
Where thou mayst knock a nail into his head.
Ariel.
Thou liest; thou canst not.
Caliban.
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 him
Where the quick freshes are.
Stephano.
Trinculo, run into no further danger: interrupt the monster
Trinculo.
Why, what did I? I did nothing. I ’ll go farther off.
Stephano.
Didst thou not say he lied?
Ariel.
Thou liest.
Stephano.
Do I so? take thou that. [Beats Trinculo.] As you like this, give me the lie another time.
Trinculo.
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!
Caliban.
Ha, ha, ha!
Stephano.
Now, forward with your tale. Prithee, stand farther off.
Caliban.
I ’ll beat him too.
Stephano.
Stand farther. Come, proceed.
Caliban.
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.
Stephano.
As great’st does least. Is it so brave a lass?
Caliban.
And bring thee forth brave brood.
Stephano.
Monster, I will kill this man: his daughter and I will be king and queen,—save our graces!—and Trinculo and thyself shall be viceroys. Dost thou like the plot, Trinculo?
Trinculo.
Excellent.
Stephano.
Give me thy hand: I am sorry I beat thee; but, while thou livest, keep a good tongue in thy head.
Caliban.
Wilt thou destroy him then?
Stephano.
Wilt thou destroy him then? Ay, on mine honour.
Ariel.
This will I tel] my master.
Caliban.
Let us be jocund: will you troll the catch
You taught me but while-ere?
Stephano.
At thy request, monster, I will do reason, any reason. Come on, Trinculo, let us sing.
And scout ’em and flout ’em;
Thought is free.
Caliban.
That ’s not the tune.
[Ariel plays the tune on a tabor and pipe.
Stephano.
What is this same?
14
Enter several strange Shapes, bringing in a banquet . . . inviting the King, etc., to eat.
Trinculo.
This is the tune of our catch, played by the picture of Nobody.
Stephano.
If thou beest a man, show thyself in thy likeness: if thou beest a devil, take ’t as thou list.
Trinculo.
O, forgive me my sins!
Stephano.
He that dies pays all debts: I defy thee. Mercy upon us!
Caliban.
Art thou afeard?
Stephano.
No, monster, not I.
Caliban.
Sounds and sweet airs, that give delight and hurt not.
Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments
Will hum about mine ears, and sometime voices
That, if 1 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.
Stephano.
This will prove a brave kingdom to me, where I shall have my music for nothing.
Caliban.
When Prospero is destroyed.
Stephano.
That shall be by and by: I remember the story.
Trinculo.
The sound is going away; let ’s follow it, and after do our work.
Stephano.
Lead, monster; we ’ll follow. I would I could see this taborer; he lays it on.
Trinculo.
Wilt come? I ’ll follow, Stephano.
SCENE III.
Another part of the island.
Enter Alonso, Sebastian, Antonio, Gonzalo, Adrian,
Francisco, and others.
Gonzalo.
My old bones ache: here ’s a maze trod indeed
Through forth-rights and meanders! By your patience,
I needs must rest me.
Alonso.
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
Whom thus we stray to find, and the sea mocks
Our frustrate search on land. Well, let him go.
Antonio.
Do not, for one repulse, forego the purpose
That you resolved to effect.
Sebastian.
Will we take throughly.
Antonio.
For, now they are oppress’d with travel, they
Will not, nor cannot, use such vigilance
As when they are fresh.
Sebastian.
As when they are fresh. [Aside to Antonio.]I say, to-night: no more.
[Solemn and strange music.
Alonso.
What harmony is this? My good friends, hark!
Gonzalo.
Marvellous sweet music!
Alonso.
Give us kind keepers; heavens! What were these?
Sebastian.
That there are unicorns, that in Arabia
There is one tree, the phœnix’ throne, one phœnix
At this hour reigning there.
Antonio.
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 ’em.
Gonzalo.
I should report this now, would they believe me?
If I should say, I saw such islanders—
For, certes, 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 shall find
Many, nay, almost any.
Prospero.
Thou hast said well; for some of you there present
Are worse than devils.
Alonso.
Such shapes, such gesture and such sound, expressing,
Although they want the use of tongue, a kind
Of excellent dumb discourse.
Prospero.
Of excellent dumb discourse. [Aside.]Praise in departing.
Francisco.
They vanish’d strangely.
Sebastian.
They have left their viands behind; for we have stomachs.
Will ’t please you taste of what is here?
Alonso.
Will ’t please you taste of what is here? Not I.
Gonzalo.
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 find
Each putter-out of five for one will bring us
Good warrant of.
Alonso.
Although my last: no matter, since I feel
The best is past. Brother, my lord the duke,
Stand to and do as we.
Ariel.
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 drown
Their proper selves.
[Alonso, Sebastian, etc., draw their swords.
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 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
You and your ways; whose wraths to guard you from—
Which here, in this most desolate isle, else falls
Upon your heads—is nothing but heart-sorrow
And a clear life ensuing.
Prospero.
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 work
And these mine enemies are all knit up
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.
Gonzalo.
In this strange stare?
Alonso.
Methought the billows spoke and told me of it;
The winds did sing it to me, and the thunder,
That deep and dreadful organ-pipe, pronounced
The name of Prosper: it did bass my trespass.
Therefore my son i’ the oose is bedded, and
Ill seek him deeper than e’er plummet sounded
And with him there lie mudded.
Sebastian.
I ’ll fight their legions o’er.
Antonio.
I ’ll fight their legions o’er. I ’ll be thy second.
[Exeunt Sebastian and Antonio.
Gonzalo.
Like poison given to work a great time after,
Now ’gins to bite the spirits, I do beseech you
That are of suppler joints, follow them swiftly
And hinder them from what this ecstasy
May now provoke them to.
Adrian.
May now provoke them to. Follow, I pray you.
[Exeunt.