The Tempest (Folio 1, 1623)
Peer Reviewed
¶
Actus Secundus. Scœna Prima.
¶
Enter Alonso, Sebastian, Anthonio, Gonzalo, Adrian,
¶Francisco, and others.
¶(So haue we all) of ioy; for our escape
¶Is common, euery day, some Saylors wife,
680Haue iust our Theame of woe: But for the miracle,
¶(I meane our preseruation) few in millions
¶Our sorrow, with our comfort.
¶Alons. Prethee peace.
685Seb. He receiues comfort like cold porredge.
¶Seb. Looke, hee's winding vp the watch of his wit,
¶By and by it will strike.
¶Gon. Sir.
690Seb. One: Tell.
¶Gon. When euery greefe is entertaind,
¶That's offer'd comes to th'entertainer.
¶Seb. A dollor.
695truer then you purpos'd.
¶should.
¶Gon. Therefore my Lord.
¶Gon. Well, I haue done: But yet
¶Seb. He will be talking.
¶Ant. Which, of he, or Adrian, for a good wager,
¶First begins to crow?
705Seb. The old Cocke.
¶Ant. The Cockrell.
¶Seb. Done: The wager?
¶Ant. A Laughter.
¶Seb. A match.
¶Seb. Ha, ha, ha.
¶Ant. So: you'r paid.
¶Seb. Yet
715Adr. Yet
¶temperance.
¶Ant. Temperance was a delicate wench.
¶Seb. As if it had Lungs, and rotten ones.
¶Ant. Or, as 'twere perfum'd by a Fen.
¶Gon. Heere is euery thing aduantageous to life.
¶Seb. Of that there's none, or little.
¶How greene?
¶Ant. The ground indeed is tawny.
730Seb. With an eye of greene in't.
¶beyond credit.
735Seb. As many voucht rarieties are.
¶Gon. That our Garments being (as they were) drencht
¶water.
¶it not say he lyes?
¶when we put them on first in Affricke, at the marriage
745of the kings faire daughter Claribel to the king of Tunis.
¶our returne.
¶ragon to their Queene.
¶Ant. Widow? A pox o'that: how came that Wid-
¶dow in? Widdow Dido!
¶Good Lord, how you take it?
¶of that: She was of Carthage, not of Tunis.
¶Gon. This Tunis Sir was Carthage.
¶Ant. His word is more then the miraculous Harpe.
¶pocket, and giue it his sonne for an Apple.
765forth more Islands.
¶now as fresh as when we were at Tunis at the marriage
¶of your daughter, who is now Queene.
¶Ant. O Widdow Dido? I, Widdow Dido.
¶wore it? I meane in a sort.
¶Gon. When I wore it at your daughters marriage.
¶Married my daughter there: For comming thence
¶Who is so farre from Italy remoued,
¶Hath made his meale on thee?
785Fran. Sir he may liue,
¶And ride vpon their backes; he trod the water
790'Boue the contentious waues he kept. and oared
¶As stooping to releeue him: I not doubt
¶He came aliue to Land.
795Alon. No, no, hee's gone.
¶But rather loose her to an Affrican,
800Who hath cause to wet the greefe on't.
¶Alon. Pre-thee peace.
¶I feare for euer: Millaine and Naples haue
¶Then we bring men to comfort them:
¶The faults your owne.
¶Gon. It is foule weather in vs all, good Sir,
¶When you are cloudy.
¶Seb. Or dockes, or Mallowes.
¶Gon. And were the King on't, what vvould I do?
¶Seb. Scape being drunke, for want of Wine.
¶Gon. I'th'Commonwealth I vvould (by contraries)
825Execute all things: For no kinde of Trafficke
¶Would I admit: No name of Magistrate:
¶Letters should not be knowne: Riches, pouerty,
¶Borne, bound of Land, Tilth, Vineyard none:
830No vse of Mettall, Corne, or Wine, or Oyle:
¶No occupation, all men idle, all:
¶And Women too, but innocent and pure:
¶No Soueraignty.
¶Seb. Yet he vvould be King on't.
835Ant. The latter end of his Common-wealth forgets
¶the beginning.
¶Sword, Pike, Knife, Gun, or neede of any Engine
840Would I not haue: but Nature should bring forth
¶Of it owne kinde, all foyzon, all abundance
¶To feed my innocent people.
¶Ant. None (man) all idle; Whores and knaues,
¶T'Excell the Golden Age.
¶Gon. And do you marke me, Sir?
¶to laugh at nothing.
¶Ant. 'Twas you vve laugh'd at.
855Gon. Who, in this kind of merry fooling am nothing
¶Ant. What a blow vvas there giuen?
¶Seb. And it had not falne flat-long.
¶Gon. You are Gentlemen of braue mettal: you would
¶in it fiue weekes vvithout changing.
¶
Enter Ariell playing solemne Musicke.
¶Ant. Nay good my Lord, be not angry.
865Gon. No I warrant you, I vvill not aduenture my
¶am very heauy.
¶I finde they are inclin'd to do so.
¶Do not omit the heauy offer of it:
¶Alon. Thanke you: Wondrous heauy.
¶Ant. It is the quality o'th'Clymate.
880Seb. Why
¶Doth it not then our eye-lids sinke? I finde
¶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,
890Dropping vpon thy head.
¶Seb. What? art thou waking?
¶Whiles thou art waking.
¶There's meaning in thy snores.
¶Trebbles thee o're.
¶Ant. Ile teach you how to flow.
910Hereditary Sloth instructs me.
¶Ant. O!
¶Whiles thus you mocke it: how in stripping it
¶You more inuest it: ebbing men, indeed
¶By their owne feare, or sloth.
¶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
¶'Tis as impossible that hee's vndrown'd,
¶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.
¶Ten leagues beyond mans life: she that from Naples
¶The Man i'th Moone's too slow, till new-borne chinnes
¶Be rough, and Razor-able: She that from whom
¶(And by that destiny) to performe an act
¶Whereof, what's past is Prologue; what to come
¶In yours, and my discharge.
950'Tis true my brothers daughter's Queene of Tunis,
¶So is she heyre of Naples, 'twixt which Regions
¶Seemes to cry out, how shall that Claribell
955Measure vs backe to Naples? keepe in Tunis,
¶And let Sebastian wake. Say, this were death
¶Then now they are: There be that can rule Naples
¶As well as he that sleepes: Lords, that can prate
¶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
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.
975Ant. I Sir: where lies that? If 'twere a kybe
¶'Twould put me to my slipper: But I feele not
¶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
¶We say befits the houre.
¶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.
¶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,
¶If of Life you keepe a care,
¶Alo. Why how now hoa; awake? why are you drawn?
¶Wherefore this ghastly looking?
¶Gon. What's the matter?
¶(Euen now) we heard a hollow burst of bellowing
¶Like Buls, or rather Lyons, did't not wake you?
¶Alo. I heard nothing.
¶To make an earthquake: sure it was the roare
¶Of a whole heard of Lyons.
¶Alo. Heard you this Gonzalo?
¶Gon. Vpon mine honour, Sir, I heard a humming,
1025(And that a strange one too) which did awake me:
¶I shak'd you Sir, and cride: as mine eyes opend,
¶Or that we quit this place: let's draw our weapons.
¶For my poore sonne.
¶Alo. Lead away.
Exeunt.
