SEBASTIAN.
Well, sir, how relish you this treatment, pray?
Is not your gentle brother wond'rous kind,
In suff'ring us to pass the chilly night
Thus upon deck, whilst he lies warm below?

ANTHONIO.
O, kind indeed! as you say, wond'rous kind!
A precious sample of fraternal love!
To be dragg'd here at his imperious will,
And left to consort with these wretched slaves!
But, list! yon' mariner, who keeps the watch,
E'en now was singing; let's attend the lay:
It may compose, at least divert our thoughts.

MARINER SINGS.
WHEN the seaman quits the shore,
Let him think on home no more;
For, of those who tempt the main,
But a part see home again!

Some are wreck'd, some tempest-tost,
To the bottom plung'd and lost!
  Seamen, when you quit the shore,
  Think on home and friends no more!
When the raging tempests blow,
High we're mounted, dash'd down low!
'Mong'st the stars now, trembling, peep;
Now explore the yawning deep!
Some arise, some there remain,
Ne'er behold the light again!
  Seamen, when you quit the shore,
  Think on home and friends no more!
When the sea's with calmness crown'd,
And the heavens smile around:
Even then disease may rage,
Death alike snatch youth and age!
Warfare, famine, fire, and drought,
Millions to their end have brought!
  Seamen, when you quit the shore,
  Think on home and friends no more!

SEBASTIAN.
This artless ditty has more pow'r to sooth.
Then many an intricate, and labour'd strain.

ANTHONIO.
'Thas calm'd me for the present: let's repose! [They retire.

STEPHANO.

Well sung, i'faith! though it almost lull'd me asleep.—Come, Trinculo, have not you

finish'd the monster's muzzle yet? dispatch, or the day will break and wake him.

TRINCULO.

Wake him, quotha? an earthquake could not wake him—he swallow'd so much sack for his sleeping draught, that a thunder-clap would not rouse him: but, there—it's done at last; do you put it on! and, when we have made him fast, we may take a nap in safety.

STEPHANO.

On it goes, then;—for, I'm as drowsy as a dormouse:—come, bully-monster! hold up your chaps:—now we have caught you napping, we'll bind you over to your good behaviour.

CALIBAN. [asleep]

Ho! ho! 'tis heaven! and now I'm blest indeed!

STEPHANO.

By the mass, it's more than I am!—I told you how it would be, Trinculo; he's waking, and our labour is all in vain.

TRINCULO.

No, it's only the fumes of the wine, which he said would make him dream of heaven;—and he's now raving about it in his sleep.

STEPHANO.

Say you so? then hush! and let us hear his account of it.

CALIBAN.
Kiss me again, my star-eyed paragon!
Thy mouth's more sweet than luscious honey-bags!

STEPHANO.

Well said, mooncalf! I wish the monster be not grown loving.

CALIBAN.
Come with me, swan-skin! and I'll shew thee where
These nails have dug for Prosper a deep pit,
False-surfac'd quaintly with inviting herbs;
Within lurk adders, urchins, scorpions, toads!
That, if i' th' fall the tyrant be not kill'd,
By venom'd bites and stings he'll mad expire! [The Moon sets.

TRINCULO.

This may be a heavenly dream with savages; I never heard any thing so diabolical in all my life! but he's silent now;—snatch the opportunity, Stephano! and on with the muzzle:— deep pits! toads, adders, and scorpions! I sweat like one rid by the night-mare!

STEPHANO.

Now for it, then!—

TRINCULO.

Hold, hold, Stephano! yonder comes the devil, sure, in a thunder-cloud!

STEPHANO.

Mercy on us, so it is! what shall we do? where shall we run?

TRINCULO.

Into the steerage, if the sailors well let us; or else the cabin.

STEPHANO.
Any where, any where;—down, down! Exeunt Stephano, Trinculo, and Mariner. Sycorax descends.

SEBASTIAN.
I' th' name of all that's horrible, what's here?
Some fiend, Anthonio! shall we stand, or fly?

ANTHONIO.
Be it the devil himself I will not budge!
I wish to see and know him.—

SEBASTIAN.
Hark! 'twill speak.

SYCORAX.
'Scap'd from the lake of quenchless fire,
And its fell furies' restless ire,
At length I've found my long-lost boy!
But, in what state see I my joy?
A slave! and sleeping on the deck
Of a curst ship I must not wreck!
O, that I might! I'd bear my child
Aloft i'th' air;—with fury wild,
Flame, rive, and wreck the bark beneath!
Between a drown'd and fiery death,
The hesitating wretches view;
Then plunge to hell the burning crew!

CALIBAN. [waking]
O, Setebos! what a rare dream was this!
To kiss my mistress' honey-dropping lips,
And—day and night! do I yet sleep or wake?
Wing'd like a bat methinks I see my dam!
In dreams I've oft beheld thee, but ne'er thus;
Thou wilt not harm me, Sycorax?—lo, I kneel!

SYCORAX.
Fear not, my son! this very hour
Was Sycorax freed; a spirit of pow'r!
On earth to rule almost divine!
This watry element's not mine.

Then, if thou hate'st thy tyrant lord,
Unto thy mother's hest accord.
To drive him swiftly in my toil,
By force, or by some subtle guile,
The pilot cause steer straight for land;
There nothing can my power withstand!
A sorceress, at my bidding, there
E'en now his torments doth prepare:
And, to protect thee from annoy,
Invulnerable be, my joy! [The Sun rises]

ANTHONIO.
Hail, spirit of pow'r! all hail, dread Sycorax!
Deadly as thou, curst Prospero we hate!
Thy preternatural descent have seen,
Thy purpose heard, which we would gladly aid;
If thou disdain'st not, with thy son conjoin'd,
The unask'd help of such weak instruments!

SYCORAX.
Your proffer'd services please well,
Belov'd of Sycorax, and hell!
But I must hence;—the eye of day,
Too curious, 'gins to peer, and play
The spy upon our deeds of night!
See, where the garish lamp of light
No longer o'er th' horizon gleams,
But shoots down fervent, glowing beams,
As swift he heaven's steep hill climbs higher;

And makes beneath a sea of fire.
Quick drive the fated victim on!
Be careful friends! farewell, my son!
Thy mother now must cleave the air,
T' avoid the sun's detested glare!

SYCORAX SINGS.
Dusky demons, aid my flight,
From this eye-offending light!
Guide to where the wing'd-mouse flitters,
And the mealy screech-owls hoot,
O'er each baneful herb or root,
That all human joy embitters!
Dusky demons, aid my flight,
From this eye-offending light! Burthen, in the Air.
Hurry, hurry, aid her flight,
From this eye-offending light! Sycorax ascends, amidst Thunder, &c. and the Scene closes.

Next section