Ferdinand.
There be some sports are painful, but their labour
Delight in them sets off: some kinds of baseness
Are nobly undergone, and most poor matters
Point to rich ends. This my mean task wou'd be
As heavy to me, as 'tis 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 compos'd of harshness. I must move
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 ev'n refresh my labours,
^{b note}Least busie when I do it. Enter Miranda, and Prospero at a distance unseen.

Mira.
Alas, now pray you
Work not so hard; I would the lightning had
Burnt up those logs that thou'rt enjoin'd to pile:
Pray set it down, and rest you; when this burns
'Twill weep for having weary'd you: my father
Is hard at study, pray now rest your self,
He's safe for these three hours.

Fer.
O most dear mistress,
The sun will set before I shall discharge
What I must strive to do.

Mira.
If you'll sit down,
I'll bear your logs the while. Pray give me that,
I'll carry't to the pile.

Fer.
No, precious creature,
I'ad rather crack my sinews, break my back,
Than you should such dishonour undergo,
While I sit lazy by.

Mira.
It would become me
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.

Pro.
Poor worm! thou art infected,
This visitation shews it.

Mira.
You look wearily.

Fer.
No, noble mistress, 'tis fresh morning with me,
When you are by at night. I do beseech you,
(Chiefly that I might set it in my prayers)
What is your name?

Mira.
Miranda. O my father,
I've broke your hest, to say so.

Fer.
Admir'd Miranda!
Indeed the top of admiration, worth
What's dearest to the world; full many a lady
I've ey'd with best regard, and many a time
Th' harmony of their tongues hath into bondage
Brought my too diligent ear; for sev'ral virtues
Have I lik'd sev'ral women, never any
With so full soul, but some defect in her
Did quarrel with the noblest grace she ow'd,
And put it to the foil. But you, O you,
So perfect, and so peerless, are created
Of every creature's best.

Mira.
I do not know
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
I'm skilless of; but by my modesty,
(The jewel in my dower) I would not wish
Any companion in the world but you;
Nor can imagination form a shape,
Besides your self, to like of. But I prattle
Something too wildly, and my father's precepts
I do forget.

Fer.
I am, in my condition,
A Prince, Miranda; I do think a King;

(I would not so) and would no more endure
This wooden slavery, than I wou'd suffer
The flesh-flie 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.

Mira.
Do you love me?

Fer.
O heav'n, O earth, bear witness to this sound,
And crown what I profess with kind event,
If I speak true; if hollowly, invert
What best is boaded me, to mischief! I,
Beyond all limit of what else i' th' world,
Do love, prize, honour you.

Mira.
I am a fool
To weep at what I'm glad of.

Pro.
Fair encounter
Of two most rare affections! heav'ns rain grace
On that which breeds between 'em.

Fer.
Wherefore weep you?

Mira.
At mine unworthiness, that dare not offer
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 it self,
The bigger bulk it shews. Hence bashful cunning,
And prompt me plain and holy innocence.
I am your wife, if you will marry me;
If not, I'll die your maid: to be your fellow
You may deny me; but I'll be your servant,
Whether you will or no.

Fer.
My mistress, dearest,
And I thus humble ever.

Mira.
My husband then?

Fer.
Ay, with a heart so willing
As bondage e'er of freedom; here's my hand.

Mira.
And mine, with my heart in't; and now farewel
'Till half an hour hence.

Fer.
A thousand, thousand. [Exeunt.

Pro.
So glad of this as they, I cannot be,
Who are surpriz'd with all; but my rejoicing
At nothing can be more. I'll to my book,
For yet ere supper-time must I perform
Much business appertaining. [Exit. SCENE II. The other part of the Island. Enter Caliban, Stephano and Trinculo.

Ste.

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.

Trin.

Servant monster! the folly of this Island! they say there's but five upon this Isle; we are three of them, if the other two be brain'd like us, the state totters.

Ste.

Drink, servant monster, when I bid thee; thy eyes are almost set in thy head.

Trin.

Where should they be set else? he were a brave monster indeed if they were set in his tail.

Ste.

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.

Trin.

Your lieutenant, if you list, he's no standard.

Ste.

We'll not run, monsieur monster.

Trin.

Nor go neither; but you'll lye like dogs, and yet say nothing neither.

Ste.

Moon-calf, speak once in thy life, if thou beest a good moon-calf.

Cal.

How does thy honour? let me lick thy shooe; I'll not serve him, he is not valiant.

Trin.

Thou liest, most ignorant monster, I am in case to justle a constable; why, thou debosh'd fish thou, was there ever man a coward that hath drunk so much sack as I to-day? wilt thou tell me a monstrous lie, being but half a fish and half a monster?

Cal.

Lo how he mocks me: wilt thou let him, my lord?

Trin.

Lord, quoth he! that a monster should be such a natural!

Cal.

Lo, lo, again; bite him to death, I pr'ythee.

Ste.

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.

Cal.

I thank my noble lord. Wilt thou be pleas'd to hearken once again to the suit I made to thee?

Ste.

Marry will I; kneel and repeat it; I will stand, and so shall Trinculo.

Cal.

As I told thee before, I am subject to a tyrant, a sorcerer, that by his cunning hath cheated me of the Island.

Ari.
Thou liest.

Cal.
Thou liest, thou jesting monkey thou;
I would my valiant master would destroy thee;
I do not lie.

Ste.

Trinculo, if you trouble him any more in's tale, by this hand I will supplant some of your teeth.

Trin.

Why, I said nothing.

Ste.

Mum then, and no more; proceed.

Cal.
I say, by sorcery he got this Isle,

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

Ste.
That's most certain.

Cal.
Thou shalt be lord of it, and I'll serve thee.

Ste.

How shall this be compast? canst thou bring me to the party?

Cal.
Yea, yea, my lord, I'll yield him thee asleep,
Where thou may'st knock a nail into his head.

Ari.
Thou liest, thou canst not.

Cal.
What a py'd ninny's this? thou scurvy patch!
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 shew him
Where the quick freshes are.

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 no further off.

Ste.

Didst thou not say he ly'd?

Ari.

Thou liest.

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

Trin.

I did not give thee 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.

Ste.

Now forward with your tale; pr'ythee stand further off.

Cal.
Beat him enough; after a little time
I'll beat him too.

Ste.
Stand further. Come, proceed.

Cal.
Why, as I told thee, 'tis a custom with him
I'th' afternoon to sleep; there thou may'st brain him,

Having first seiz'd 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; and 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 an house, he'll deck withal.
And that most deeply to consider, is
The beauty of his daughter; he himself
Calls her a non-pareil: I ne'er saw woman
But only Sycorax my dam, and she;
But she as far surpasses Sycorax
As greatest does the least.

Ste.
Is it so brave a lass?

Cal.
Ay, lord; she will become thy bed, I warrant,
And bring thee forth brave brood.

Ste.

Monster, I will kill this man: his daughter and I will be King and Queen, save our Graces: and Trinculo and thy self shall be Vice-Roys. Dost thou like the plot, Trinculo?

Trin.

Excellent.

Ste.

Give me thy hand; I am sorry I beat thee: but while thou liv'st keep a good tongue in thy head.

Cal.
Within this half hour will he be asleep;
Wilt thou destroy him then?

Ste.
Ay, on my honour.

Ari.
This will I tell my master.

Cal.
Thou mak'st me merry; I am full of pleasure;
Let us be jocund. Will you troul the catch
You taught me but while-ere?

Ste.

At thy request, monster, I will do reason, and reason: come on, Trinculo let us sing.

Flout 'em, and skout 'em; and skout 'em, and flout 'em; thought is free.

Cal.

That's not the tune.

Ste.

What is this same?

Trin.

This is the tune of our catch, plaid by the picture of no-body.

Ste.

If thou be'st a man, shew thy self in thy likeness; if thou be'st a devil, take't as thou list.

Trin.

O forgive me my sins!

Ste.

He that dies pays all debts: I defie thee. Mercy upon us!

Cal.

Art thou afraid?

Ste.

No, monster, not I.

Cal.
Be not afraid; the isle is full of noises,
Sounds, and sweet airs, that give delight, and hurt not.
Sometimes a thousand twanging instruments
Will hum about mine ears; and sometimes voices,
That if I then had wak'd after long sleep,
Will make me sleep again; and then in dreaming,
The clouds methought would open, and shew riches
Ready to drop upon me; when I wak'd
I cry'd to dream again.

Ste.

This will prove a brave kingdom to me, where I shall have my musick for nothing.

Cal.

When Prospero is destroy'd.

Ste.

That shall be by and by: I remember the story.

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.

SCENE III. Changes again. Enter Alonso, Sebastian, Anthonio, Gonzalo, Adrian, Francisco, &c.

Gon.
By'r lakin, I can go no further, Sir,
My old bones ake: here's a maze trod indeed
Through forth-rights and meanders: by your patience,
I needs must rest me.

Alon.
Old lord, I cannot blame thee,
Who am my self attach'd with weariness
To th' dulling of my spirits: sit down and rest.
Ev'n here I will put off my hope, and keep it
No longer for my flatt'rer: he is drown'd,
Whom thus we stray to find, and the sea mocks
Our frustrate search on land. Well, let him go.

Ant.
I am right glad that's he so out of hope.
Do not, for one repulse, forego the purpose
That you resolv'd t'effect.

Seb.
The next advantage
Will we take throughly.

Ant.
Let it be to-night;
For, now they are oppress'd with travel, they
Will not nor cannot use such Vigilance
As when they're fresh.

Seb.
I say to-night: no more. Solemn and strange Musick, and Prospero on the top invisible. Enter several strange shapes, bringing in a banquet; and dance about it with gentle actions of salutation, and inviting the King, &c. to eat, they depart.

Alon.
What harmony is this? my good friends, hark!

Gon.
Marvellous sweet musick!

Alon.
Give us kind keepers, heaven; what are these?

Seb.
A living drollery. Now I will believe
That there are unicorns; that in Arabia
There is one tree the phœnix throne, one phœnix
At this hour reigning there.

Ant.
I'll believe both:
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.

Gon.
If in Naples
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 tho' 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.

Pro.
Honest lord,
Thou hast said well; for some of you there present
Are worse than devils.

Alon.
I cannot too much muse,
Such shapes, such gesture, and such sound, expressing
(Although they want the use of tongue) a kind
Of excellent dumb discourse.

Pro.
Praise in departing.

Fran.
They vanish'd strangely.

Seb.
No matter, since
They've 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-lapt 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.

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. SCENE IV. Thunder and lightning. Enter Ariel like a harpy, claps his wings upon the table, and with a queint 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 caus'd to belch you up; and on this Island,
Where man doth not inhabit, you 'mongst men
Being most unfit to live: I have made you mad;
And ev'n with such like valour men hang and drown
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 bemockt-at stabs
Kill the still-closing waters, as diminish
One ^{f note}down that's in my plume: my fellow-ministers
Are like invulnerable. If you could hurt,
Your swords are now too massie for your strengths,
And will not be up-lifted. But remember,
(For that's my business to you) that you three

From Milan did supplant good Prospero:
Expos'd unto the sea, (which hath requit it)
Him and his innocent child: for which foul deed
The powers delaying, not forgetting, have
Incens'd the seas and shores, yea, all the creatures,
Against your peace: thee of thy son, Alonso,
They have bereft; and do pronounce by me,
Ling'ring 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's-sorrow,
And a clear life ensuing. He vanishes in thunder: then, to soft musick, Enter the shapes again, and dance with mocks and mowes, and carrying out the table.

Pro.
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 work,
And these, mine enemies, are all knit up
In their distractions: they are in my power;
And in these fits I leave them, whilst I visit
Young Ferdinand, whom they suppose is drown'd,
And his and my lov'd darling.

Gon.
I' th' name of something holy, Sir, why stand you
In this strange stare?

Alon.
O, it is monstrous! monstrous!
&plquo;Methought the billows spoke, and told me of it;
&plquo;The winds did sing it to me, and the thunder

&plquo;That deep and dreadful organ-pipe, pronounc'd
&plquo;The name of Prosper: it did base my trespass.
Therefore my son i'th' ooze is bedded; and
I'll seek him deeper than e'er plummet sounded,
And with him there lye mudded. [Exit.

Seb.
But one fiend at a time,
I'll fight their legions o'er.

Ant.
I'll be thy second. [Exeunt.

Gon.
All three of them are desp'rate; their great guilt,
Like poison giv'n to work a great time after,
Now 'gins to bite the spirits. I beseech you
That are of suppler joints, follow them swiftly,
And hinder them from what this ecstasie
May now provoke them to.

Adri.
Follow, I pray you. [Exeunt.

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