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Read books online » Drama » The Tempest by William Shakespeare (ebook reader color screen TXT) 📖

Book online «The Tempest by William Shakespeare (ebook reader color screen TXT) 📖». Author William Shakespeare



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href="@public@vhost@g@gutenberg@html@files@23042@23042-h@23042-h-8.htm.html#appI_2_273" id="lineI_2_273" tag="{http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml}a">earthy and abhorr’d commands,

Refusing her grand hests, she did confine thee,

I. 2. 275 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

A dozen years; within which space she died,

280 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.

285 Pros. 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 ever-angry bears: it was a torment

290 To lay upon the damn’d, which Sycorax

Could not again undo: it was mine art,

When I arrived and heard thee, that made gape

The pine, and let thee out.

Ari.

I thank thee, master.

Pros. If thou more murmur’st, I will rend an oak,

295 And peg thee in his knotty entrails, till

Thou hast howl’d away twelve winters.

Ari.

Pardon, master:

I will be correspondent to command,

And do my spiriting gently.

Pros.

Do so; and after two days

I will discharge thee.

Ari.

That’s my noble master!

I. 2. 300 What shall I do? say what; what shall I do?

Pros. Go make thyself like a nymph o’ the sea:

Be subject to no sight but thine and mine; invisible

To every eyeball else. Go take this shape,

And hither come in’t: go, hence with diligence! Exit Ariel.

305 Awake, dear heart, awake! thou hast slept well;

Awake!

Mir.

The strangeness of your story put

Heaviness in me.

Pros.

Shake it off. Come on;

We’ll visit Caliban my slave, who never

Yields us kind answer.

Mir.

’Tis a villain, sir,

I do not love to look on.

Pros.

310 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.

315 Pros. Come forth, I say! there’s other business for thee:

Come, 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.

Pros. Thou poisonous slave, got by the devil himself

320 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! a south-west blow on ye

And blister you all o’er!

I. 2. 325 Pros. 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 honeycomb, each pinch more stinging

Than bees that made ’em.

Cal.

330 I must eat my dinner.

This island’s mine, by Sycorax my mother,

Which thou takest from me. When thou camest first,

Thou strokedst me, and madest much of me; wouldst give me

Water with berries in’t; and teach me how

335 To name the bigger light, and how the less,

That burn by day and night: and then I loved thee,

And show’d thee all the qualities o’ th’ isle,

The fresh springs, brine-pits, barren place and fertile:

Curs’d be I that did so! All the charms

340 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 o’ th’ island.

Pros.

Thou most lying slave,

345 Whom stripes may move, not kindness! I have used thee,

Filth as thou art, with human care; and lodged thee

In mine own cell, till thou didst seek to violate

The honour of my child.

Cal. O ho, O ho! would ’t had been done!

I. 2. 350 Thou didst prevent me; I had peopled else

This isle with Calibans.

Pros.

Abhorred slave,

Which any print of goodness wilt not take,

Being capable of all ill! I pitied thee,

Took pains to make thee speak, taught thee each hour

355 One thing or other: when thou didst not, savage,

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,

Though thou didst learn, had that in’t which good natures

360 Could not abide to be with; therefore wast 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!

Pros.

365 Hag-seed, hence!

Fetch us in fuel; and be quick, thou’rt 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,

370 Fill all thy bones with aches, make thee roar,

That beasts shall tremble at thy din.

Cal.

No, pray thee.

[Aside] I must obey: his art is of such power,

It would control my dam’s god, Setebos,

And make a vassal of him.

Pros.

So, slave; hence! Exit Caliban.

Re-enter Ariel, invisible, playing and singing; Ferdinand following. Ariel’s song.

I. 2. 375 Come unto these yellow sands,

And then take hands:

Courtsied when you have and kiss’d

The wild waves whist:

Foot it featly here and there;

380 And, sweet sprites, the burthen bear.

Burthen [dispersedly]. Hark, hark!

Bow-wow.

The watch-dogs bark:

Bow-wow.

Ari. Hark, hark! I hear

385 The strain of strutting chanticleer

Cry, Cock-a-diddle-dow.

Fer. Where should this music be? i’ th’ air or th’ earth?

It sounds no more: and, sure, it waits upon

Some god o’ th’ island. Sitting on a bank,

390 Weeping again the king my father’s wreck,

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.

395 No, it begins again.

Ariel sings.

Full fathom five thy father lies;

Of his bones are coral made;

Those are pearls that were his eyes:

Nothing of him that doth fade,

I. 2. 400 But doth suffer a sea-change

Into something rich and strange.

Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell:

Burthen: Ding-dong.

Ari. Hark! now I hear them,—Ding-dong, bell.

405 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.

Pros. The fringed curtains of thine eye advance,

And say what thou seest yond.

Mir.

What is’t? a spirit?

410 Lord, how it looks about! Believe me, sir,

It carries a brave form. But ’tis a spirit.

Pros. No, wench; it eats and sleeps and hath such senses

As we have, such. This gallant which thou seest

Was in the wreck; and, but he’s something stain’d

415 With grief, that’s beauty’s canker, thou mightst call him

A goodly person: he hath lost his fellows,

And strays about to find ’em.

Mir.

I might call him

A thing divine; for nothing natural

I ever saw so noble.

Pros. [Aside]

It goes on, I see,

420 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

I. 2. 425 How I may bear me here: my prime request,

Which I do last pronounce, is, O you wonder!

If you be maid or no?

Mir.

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.

Pros.

430 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 Naples,

435 Who with mine eyes, never since at ebb, beheld

The king my father wreck’d.

Mir.

Alack, for mercy!

Fer. Yes, faith, and all his lords; the Duke of Milan

And his brave son being twain.

Pros. [Aside]

The Duke of Milan

And his more braver daughter could control thee,

440 If now ’twere fit to do’t. At the first sight

They have changed eyes. Delicate Ariel,

I’ll set thee free for this. [To Fer.] A word, good sir;

I fear you have done yourself some wrong: a word.

Mir. Why speaks my father so ungently? This

445 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.

Pros.

Soft, sir! one word more.

I. 2. 450 [Aside] They are both in either’s powers: but this swift business

I must uneasy make, lest too light winning

Make the prize light. [To Fer.] One word more; I charge thee

That thou attend me: thou dost here usurp

The name thou owest not; and hast put thyself

455 Upon this island as a spy, to win it

From me, the lord on’t.

Fer.

No, as I am a man.

Mir. There’s nothing ill can dwell in such a temple:

If the ill spirit have so fair a house,

Good things will strive to dwell with’t.

Pros.

Follow me.

460 Speak not you for 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;

465 I will resist such entertainment till

Mine enemy has more power. Draws, and is charmed from moving.

Mir.

O dear father,

Make not too rash a trial of him, for

He’s gentle, and not fearful.

Pros.

What! I say,

My foot my tutor? Put thy sword up, traitor;

470 Who makest a show, but darest not strike, thy conscience

Is so possess’d with guilt: come from thy ward;

For I can here disarm thee with this stick

And make thy weapon drop.

Mir.

Beseech you, father.

Pros. Hence! hang not on my garments.

Mir.

Sir, have pity;

I’ll be his surety.

Pros.

I. 2. 475 Silence! one word more

Shall make me chide thee, if not hate thee. What!

An advocate for an impostor! hush!

Thou think’st there is no more such shapes as he,

Having

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