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The Tempest (Folio 1, 1623)

Author: William Shakespeare
Editors: Brent Whitted, Paul Yachnin
Peer Reviewed
8
The Tempest.
875Ant. We two my Lord, will guard your person,
While you take your rest, and watch your safety.
Alon. Thanke you: Wondrous heauy.
Seb. What a strange drowsines possesses them?
Ant. It is the quality o'th'Clymate.
880Seb. Why
Doth it not then our eye-lids sinke? I finde
Not my selfe dispos'd to sleep.
Ant. Nor I, my spirits are nimble:
They fell together all, as by consent
885They dropt, as by a Thunder-stroke: what might
Worthy Sebastian? O, what might? no more:
And yet, me thinkes I see it in thy face,
What thou should'st be: th'occasion speaks thee, and
My strong imagination see's a Crowne
890Dropping vpon thy head.
Seb. What? art thou waking?
Ant. Do you not heare me speake?
Seb. I do, and surely
It is a sleepy Language; and thou speak'st
895Out of thy sleepe: What is it thou didst say?
This is a strange repose, to be asleepe
With eyes wide open: standing, speaking, mouing:
And yet so fast asleepe.
Ant. Noble Sebastian,
900Thou let'st thy fortune sleepe: die rather: wink'st
Whiles thou art waking.
Seb. Thou do'st snore distinctly,
There's meaning in thy snores.
Ant. I am more serious then my custome: you
905Must be so too, if heed me: which to do,
Trebbles thee o're.
Seb. Well: I am standing water.
Ant. Ile teach you how to flow.
Seb. Do so: to ebbe
910Hereditary Sloth instructs me.
Ant. O!
If you but knew how you the purpose cherish
Whiles thus you mocke it: how in stripping it
You more inuest it: ebbing men, indeed
915(Most often) do so neere the bottome run
By their owne feare, or sloth.
Seb. 'Pre-thee say on,
The setting of thine eye, and cheeke proclaime
A matter from thee; and a birth, indeed,
920Which throwes thee much to yeeld.
Ant. Thus Sir:
Although this Lord of weake remembrance; this
Who shall be of as little memory
When he is earth'd, hath here almost perswaded
925(For hee's a Spirit of perswasion, onely
Professes to perswade) the King his sonne's aliue,
'Tis as impossible that hee's vndrown'd,
As he that sleepes heere, swims.
Seb. I haue no hope
930That hee's vndrown'd.
Ant. O, out of that no hope,
What great hope haue you? No hope that way, Is
Another way so high a hope, that euen
Ambition cannot pierce a winke beyond
935But doubt discouery there. Will you grant with me
That Ferdinand is drown'd.
Seb. He's gone.
Ant. Then tell me, who's the next heire of Naples?
Seb. Claribell.
940Ant. She that is Queene of Tunis: she that dwels

Ten leagues beyond mans life: she that from Naples
Can haue no note, vnlesse the Sun were post:
The Man i'th Moone's too slow, till new-borne chinnes
Be rough, and Razor-able: She that from whom
945We all were sea-swallow'd, though some cast againe,
(And by that destiny) to performe an act
Whereof, what's past is Prologue; what to come
In yours, and my discharge.
Seb. What stuffe is this? How say you?
950'Tis true my brothers daughter's Queene of Tunis,
So is she heyre of Naples, 'twixt which Regions
There is some space.
Ant. A space, whose eu'ry cubit
Seemes to cry out, how shall that Claribell
955Measure vs backe to Naples? keepe in Tunis,
And let Sebastian wake. Say, this were death
That now hath seiz'd them, why they were no worse
Then now they are: There be that can rule Naples
As well as he that sleepes: Lords, that can prate
960As amply, and vnnecessarily
As this Gonzallo: I my selfe could make
A Chough of as deepe chat: O, that you bore
The minde that I do; what a sleepe were this
For your aduancement? Do you vnderstand me?
965Seb. Me thinkes I do.
Ant. And how do's your content
Tender your owne good fortune?
Seb. I remember
You did supplant your Brothet Prospero.
970Ant. True:
And looke how well my Garments sit vpon me,
Much feater then before: My Brothers seruants
Were then my fellowes, now they are my men.
Seb. But for your conscience.
975Ant. I Sir: where lies that? If 'twere a kybe
'Twould put me to my slipper: But I feele not
This Deity in my bosome: 'Twentie consciences
That stand 'twixt me, and Millaine, candied be they,
And melt ere they mollest: Heere lies your Brother,
980No better then the earth he lies vpon,
If he were that which now hee's like (that's dead)
Whom I with this obedient steele (three inches of it)
Can lay to bed for euer: whiles you doing thus,
To the perpetuall winke for aye might put
985This ancient morsell: this Sir Prudence, who
Should not vpbraid our course: for all the rest
They'l take suggestion, as a Cat laps milke,
They'l tell the clocke, to any businesse that
We say befits the houre.
990Seb. Thy case, deere Friend
Shall be my president: As thou got'st Millaine,
I'le come by Naples: Draw thy sword, one stroke
Shall free thee from the tribute which thou paiest,
And I the King shall loue thee.
995Ant. Draw together:
And when I reare my hand, do you the like
To fall it on Gonzalo.
Seb. O, but one word.
Enter Ariell with Musicke and Song.
1000Ariel. My Master through his Art foresees the danger
That you (his friend) are in, and sends me forth
(For else his proiect dies) to keepe them liuing.
Sings in Gonzaloes eare.
While you here do snoaring lie,
1005Open-ey'd Conspiracie
His time doth take:
If