Now does my project gather to a head:My charms crack not; my spirits obey; and timeGoes upright with his carriage. How’s the day?
Ariel.
On the sixth hour; at which time, my lord,You said our work should cease.
Prospero.
You said our work should cease. I did say so,When first I raised the tempest. Say, my spirit,How fares the king and ’s followers?
Ariel.
How fares the king and ’s followers? Confined togetherIn the same fashion as you gave in charge,Just as you left them; all prisoners, sir,
In the lime-grove which weather-fends your cell;They cannot budge till your release. The king,His brother and yours, abide all three distractedAnd the remainder mourning over them,Brimful of sorrow and dismay; but chieflyHim that you term’d, sir, “The good old lord, Gonzalo;”His tears run down his beard, like winter’s dropsFrom eaves of reeds. Your charm so strongly works ’emThat if you now beheld them, your affectionsWould become tender.
Prospero.
You said our work should cease. Dost thou think so, spirit?
Ariel.
Mine would, sir, were I human.
Prospero.
Mine would, sir, were I human. And mine shall,Hast thou, which art but air, a touch, a feelingOf their afflictions, and shall not myself,One of their kind, that relish all as sharply,Passion as they, be kindlier moved than thou art?Though with their high wrongs I am struck to the quick,Yet with my nobler reason ’gainst my furyDo I take part: the rarer action isIn virtue than in vengeance: they being penitent,The sole drift of my purpose doth extendNot a frown further. Go release them, Ariel:My charms I ’ll break, their senses I ’ll restore,And they shall be themselves.
Ariel.
And they shall be themselves. I'll fetch them, sir, [Exit.
Prospero.
Ye elves of hills, brooks, standing lakes and groves,And ye that on the sands with printless footDo chase the ebbing Neptune and do fly himWhen he comes back; you demi-puppets thatBy moonshine do the green sour ringlets make,Whereof the ewe not bites, and you whose pastimeIs to make midnight mushrooms, that rejoiceTo hear the solemn curfew; by whose aid,Weak masters though ye be, I have bedimm’dThe noontide sun, call’d forth the mutinous winds,And ’twixt the green sea-and the azured vaultSet roaring war: to the dread rattling thunderHave I given fire and rifted Jove’s stout oakWith his own bolt; the strong-based promontoryHave I made shake and by the spurs pluck’d upThe pine and cedar: graves at my commandHave waked their sleepers, oped, and let em forthBy my so potent art. But this rough magicI here abjure, and, when I have requiredSome heavenly music, which even now I do,To work mine end upon their senses thatThis airy charm is for, I ’ll break my staff,Bury it certain fathoms in the earth,And deeper than did ever plummet soundI ’ll drown my book.
[Solemn music.
Re-enterArielbefore: thenAlonso, with a frantic gesture, attended byGonzalo; SebastianandAntonioin like manner, attended byAdrianandFrancisco: they all enter the circle whichProsperohad made, and there stand charmed; whichProsperoobserving, speaks:
A solemn air and the best comforterTo an unsettled fancy cure thy brains,
Now useless, boil’d within thy skull! There stand,For you are spell-stopp’d.Holy Gonzalo, honourable man,Mine eyes, even sociable to the show of thine,Fall fellowly drops. The charm dissolves apace,And as the morning steals upon the night,Melting the darkness, so their rising sensesBegin to chase the ignorant fumes that mantleTheir clearer reason. O good Gonzalo,My true preserver, and a loyal sirTo him thou follow’st! I will pay thy gracesHome both in word and deed. Most cruellyDidst thou, Alonso, use me and my daughter:Thy brother was a furtherer in the act.Thou art pinch’d for ’t now, Sebastian, Flesh and blood,You, brother mine, that entertain’d ambition,Expell’d remorse and nature; who, with Sebastian,Whose inward pinches therefore are most strong,Would here have kill’d your king; I do forgive thee,Unnatural though thou art. Their understandingBegins to swell, and the approaching tideWill shortly fill the reasonable shoreThat now lies foul and muddy. Not one of themThat yet looks on me, or would know me: Ariel,Fetch me the hat and rapier in my cell:I will discase me, and myself presentAs I was sometime Milan: quickly, spirit;Thou shalt ere long be free.
Arielsings and helps to aitire him.
Where the bee sucks, there suck I:In a cowslip’s bell I lie;There I couch when owls do cry.On the bat’s back I do flyAfter summer merrily.Merrily, merrily shall I live nowUnder the blossom that hangs on the bough.
Prospero.
Why, that’s my dainty Ariel! I shall miss thee;But yet thou shalt have freedom: so, so, so.To the king’s ship, invisible as thou art:There shalt thou find the mariners asleepUnder the hatches; the master and the boatswainBeing awake, enforce them to this place,And presently, I prithee.
Ariel.
I drink the air before me, and returnOr ere your pulse twice beat.
[Exit.
Gonzalo.
All torment, trouble, wonder and amazementInhabits here; some heavenly power guide usOut of this fearful country!
Prospero.
Out of this fearful country! Behold, sir king,The wronged Duke of Milan, Prospero:For more assurance that a living princeDoes now speak to thee, I embrace thy body;And to thee and thy company I bidA hearty welcome.
Alonso.
A hearty welcome. Whether thou be’st he or no,Or some enchanted trifle to abuse me,As late I have been, I not know: thy pulse
Beats as of flesh and blood; and, since I saw thee,The affliction of my mind amends, with which,I fear, a madness held me: this must crave,An if this be at all, a most strange story.Thy dukedom I resign and do entreatThou pardon me my wrongs. But how should ProsperoBe living and be here?
Prospero.
Be living and be here? First, noble friend,Let me embrace thine age, whose honour cannotBe measured or confined.
Gonzalo.
Be measured or confined. Whether this beOr be not, I ’ll not swear.
Prospero.
Or be not, I ’ll not swear. You do yet tasteSome subtilties o’ the isle, that will not let youBelieve things certain. Welcome, my friends all![Aside toSebastianandAntonio.] But you, my braceof lords, were I so minded,There could pluck his highness’ frown upon youAnd justify you traitors: at this timeI will tell no tales.
Sebastian.
[Aside.] The devil speaks in him.
Prospero.
[Aside.] The devil speaks in him. No.For you, most wicked sir, whom to call brotherWould even infect my mouth, I do forgive
19
You demi-puppets that By moonshine do the green sour ringlets makeV. i. 36.
Thy rankest fault; all of them; and requireMy dukedom of thee, which perforce, I know,Thou must restore.
Alonso.
Thou must restore. If thou be’st Prospero,Give us particulars of thy preservation;How thou hast met us here, who three hours sinceWere wreck’d upon this shore; where I have lost—How sharp the point of this remembrance is!—My dear son Ferdinand.
Prospero.
My dear son Ferdinand. I am woe for ’t, sir.
Alonso.
Irreparable is the loss, and patienceSays it is past her cure.
Prospero.
Says it is past her cure. I rather thinkYou have not sought her help, of whose soft graceFor the like loss I have her sovereign aidAnd rest myself content.
Alonso.
And rest myself content. You the like loss!
Prospero.
As great to me as late; and, supportableTo make the dear loss, have I means much weakerThan you may call to comfort you, for IHave lost my daughter.
Alonso.
Have lost my daughter. A daughter?O heavens, that they were living both in Naples,The king and queen there! that they were, I wishMyself were mudded in that oozy bedWhere my son lies. When did you lose your daughter?
Prospero.
In this last tempest. I perceive, these lordsAt this encounter do so much admireThat they devour their reason and scarce thinkTheir eyes do offices of truth, their wordsAre natural breath: but, howsoe’er you haveBeen justled from your senses, know for certainThat I am Prospero and that very dukeWhich was thrust forth of Milan, who most strangelyUpon this shore, where you were wreck’d, was landed,To be the lord on ’t. No more yet of this;For ’tis a chronicle of day by day,Not a relation for a breakfast norBefitting this first meeting. Welcome, sir;This cell ’s my court: here have I few attendants,And subjects none abroad: pray you, look in.My dukedom since you have given me again,I will requite you with as good a thing;At least bring forth a wonder, to content yeAs much as me my dukedom,
Sweet lord, you play me false. No, my dear’st love,I would not for the world.
Miranda.
Yes, for a score of kingdoms you should wrangle,And I would call it fair play.
Alonso.
And I would call it fair play. If this proveA vision of the Island, one dear sonShall I twice lose.
Sebastian.
Shall I twice lose. A most high miracle!
Ferdinand.
Though the seas threaten, they are merciful;I have cursed them without cause.
[Kneels.
Alonso.
I have cursed them without cause. Now all the blessingsOf a glad father compass thee about!Arise, and say how thou camest here.
Miranda.
Arise, and say how thou camest here. O, wonder!How many goodly creatures are there here!How beauteous mankind is! O brave new world,That has such people in ’t!
Prospero.
That has such people in ’t! ’Tis new to thee.
Alonso.
What is this maid with whom thou wast at play?Your eld’st acquaintance cannot be three hours:Is she the goddess that hath sever’d us,And brought us thus together?
Ferdinand.
And brought us thus together? Sir, she is mortal;But by immortal Providence she’s mine:I chose her when I could not ask my fatherFor his advice, nor thought I had one. SheIs daughter to this famous Duke of Milan,Of whom so often I have heard renown,But never saw before; of whom I haveReceived a second life; and second fatherThis lady makes him to me.
Alonso.
This lady makes him to me. I am hers:But, O, how oddly will it sound that IMust ask my child forgiveness!
Prospero.
Must ask my child forgiveness! There, sir, stop:Let us not burthen our remembrance withA heaviness that ’s gone.
Gonzalo.
A heaviness that ’s gone. I have inly wept,Or should have spoke ere this. Look down, you gods,And on this couple drop a blessed crown!For it is you that have chalk’d forth the wayWhich brought us hither.
Alonso.
I say, Amen, Gonzalo!
Gonzalo.
Was Milan thrust from Milan, that his issueShould become kings of Naples? O, rejoiceBeyond a common joy, and set it downWith gold on lasting pillars: In one voyageDid Claribel her husband find at TunisAnd Ferdinand, her brother, found a wifeWhere he himself was lost, Prospero his dukedomIn a poor isle and all of us ourselvesWhen no man was his own.
Alonso.
[ToFerdinandandMiranda.] Give me your hands:Let grief and sorrow still embrace his heart,That doth not wish you joy!
Gonzalo.
Be it so! Amen!
Re-enterAriel, with theMasterandBoatswain amazedly following.
O, look, sir, look, sir! here is more of us:I prophesied, if a gallows were on. land,This fellow could not drown. Now, blasphemy,‘That swear’st grace o’erboard, not an oath on shore?Hast thou no mouth by land? What is the news?
Boatswain.
The best news is, that we have safely foundOur king and company; the next, our ship—
Which, but three glasses since, we gave out split,—Is tight and yare and bravely rigg’d as whenWe first put out to sea.
Ariel.
[Aside to Prospero.] Sir, all this serviceHave I done since I went.
Prospero.
Have I done since I went. [Aside to Ariel.] My tricksy spirit!
Alonso.
These are not natural events; they strengthenFrom strange to stranger. Say, how came you hither?
Boatswain.
If I did think, sir, I were well awake,I 'ld strive to tel! you. We were dead of sleep,And—how we know not—all clapp’d under hatches;Where but even now with strange and several noisesOf roaring, shrieking, howling, jingling chains,And more diversity of sounds, all horrible,We were awaked; straightway, at liberty;Where we, in all her trim, freshly beheldOur royal, good and gallant ship, our masterCapering to eye her; on a trice, so please you,Even in a dream, were we divided from themAnd were brought moping hither
Ariel.
[Aside to Prospero.] Was’t well done?
Prospero.
[Aside to Ariel.] Bravely, my diligence. Thou shalt be free.
20
Merrily, merrily shall I live nowUnder the blossom that hangs on the boughV. i. 93.
Alonso.
This is as strange a maze as e’er men trod;And there is in this business more than natureWas ever conduct of: some oracleMust rectify our knowledge.
Prospero.
Must rectify our knowledge. Sir, my liege,Do not infest your mind with beating onThe strangeness of this business; at pick’d leisureWhich shalt be shortly, single I ’ll resolve you,Which to you shall seem probable, of everyThese happen’d accidents; till when, be cheerfulAnd think of each thing well. [Aside to Ariel.] Come hither, spirit:Set Caliban and his companions free;Untie the spell. [ExitAriel.] How fares my gracious sir? There are yet missing of your companySome few odd lads that you remember not.
Re-enterAriel, driving inCaliban, StephanoandTrinculo, in their stolen apparel.
Stephano.
Every man shift for all the rest, and let no man take care for himself; for all is but fortune. Coragio, bully-monster, coragio!
Trinculo.
If these be true spies which I wear in my head, here's a goodly sight.
Caliban.
O Setebos, these be brave spirits indeed!How fine my master is! I am afraidHe will chastise me.
Sebastian.
He will chastise me. Ha, ha!What things are these, my lord Antonio?Will money buy ’em?
Antonio,
Will money buy ’em? Very like; one of themIs a plain fish, and, no doubt, marketable.
Prospero.
Mark but the badges of these men, my lords,Then say if they be true. This mis-shapen knave,His mother was a witch, and one so strongThat could control the moon, make flows and ebbs,And deal in her command without her power.These three have robb’d me; and this demi-devil—For he’s a bastard one—had plotted with themTo take my life. Two of these fellows youMust know and own; this thing of darkness IAcknowledge mine.
Caliban.
Acknowledge mine. I shall be pinch’d to death.
Alonso.
Is not this Stephano, my drunken butler?
Sebastian.
He is drunk now: where had he wine?
Alonso.
And Trinculo is reeling ripe: where should theyFind this grand liquor that hath gilded ’em?How camest thou in this pickle?
Trinculo.
I have been in such a pickle since I saw you last that, I fear me, will never out of my bones: I shall not fear fly-blowing.
Sebastian.
Why, how now, Stephano!
Stephano.
O, touch me not; I am not Stephano, but a cramp.
Prospero.
You ’ld be king o’ the isle, sirrah?
Stephano.
I should have been a sore one then.
Alonso.
This is a strange thing as e’er I look’d on.
[Pointing to Caliban.
Prospero.
He is as disproportion’d in his mannersAs in his shape. Go, sirrah, to my cell;Take with you your companions; as you look:To have my pardon, trim it handsomely.
Caliban.
Ay, that I will; and Ill be wise hereafterAnd seek for grace. What a thrice-double assWas I, to take this drunkard for a godAnd worship this dull fool!
Prospero.
And worship this dull fool! Go to; away!
Alonso.
Hence, and bestow your luggage where you found it.
Sebastian.
Or stole it, rather. [ExeuntCaliban, Stephano, andTrinculo.
Prospero.
Sir, I invite your highness and your trainTo my poor cell, where you shall take your restFor this one night; which, part of it, I ‘ll wasteWith such discourse as, I not doubt, shall make itGo quick away; the story of my lifeAnd the particular accidents gone bySince I came to this isle: and in the mornI ‘ll bring you to your ship and so to Naples,Where I have hope to see the nuptialOf these our dear-beloved solemnized;And thence retire me to my Milan, whereEvery third thought shall be my grave.
Alonso.
Every third thought shall be my grave. I longTo hear the story of your life, which mustTake the ear strangely.
Prospero.
Take the ear strangely.I 'll deliver all;And promise you calm seas, auspicious galesAnd sail so expeditious that shall catchYour royal fleet far off. [Aside toAriel.] My Ariel, chick,That is thy charge: then to the elementsBe free, and fare thou well! Please you, draw near.
[Exeunt.
EPILOGUE.
Spoken by Prospero.
Now my charms are all o’erthrown,And what strength I have’s mine own,Which is most faint: now, ’tis true,I must be here confined by you,Or sent to Naples. Let me not,Since I have my dukedom gotAnd pardon’d the deceiver, dwellIn this bare island by your spell;But release me from my bandsWith the help of your good hands:Gentle breath of yours my sailsMust fill, or else my project fails,Which was to please. Now I wantSpirits to enforce, art to enchant,And my ending is despair,Unless I be relieved by prayer,Which pierces so that it assaultsMercy itself and frees all faults.As you from crimes would pardon’d be,Let your indulgence set me free.
