The Tempest (Modern)
Peer Reviewed
1[1.1]
¶Boatswain Here, master. What cheer?
¶Shipmaster Good. Speak to the mariners. Fall ¶to it yarely or we run ourselves aground. ¶Bestir! Bestir!
Exit [Shipmaster].
10
Enter Mariners.
¶Boatswain Heigh, my hearts! Cheerly, cheerly, my hearts! ¶Yare, yare. Take in the topsail! Tend to the master's ¶whistle. [To the storm] Blow till thou burst thy wind if room ¶enough!
¶Boatswain I pray now, keep below.
20Antonio Where is the master, boatswain?
¶Gonzalo Nay, good, be patient.
¶Boatswain When the sea is. Hence! What cares these 25roarers for the name of King? To cabin! Silence: trouble ¶us not.
¶Gonzalo Good, yet remember whom thou hast aboard.
¶Boatswain None that I more love than myself. You are ¶a counselor -- if you can command these elements to 30silence and work the peace of the present, we will not ¶hand a rope more. Use your authority; if you cannot, ¶give thanks you have lived so long, and make ¶yourself ready in your cabin for the mischance of the ¶hour if it so hap. [To Mariners] Cheerly, good hearts! [To Courtiers] Out of our 35way, I say!
Exit [Boatswain].
¶Gonzalo I have great comfort from this fellow. Methinks ¶he hath no drowning mark upon him; his complexion ¶is perfect gallows. Stand fast, good Fate, to his ¶hanging. Make the rope of his destiny our cable, for our 40own doth little advantage. If he be not born to be ¶hanged, our case is miserable.
Exit [Sebastian, Antonio, and Gonzalo].
¶
Enter Boatswain.
45
A cry within. Enter Sebastian, Antonio, and Gonzalo.
Boatswain ¶A plague upon this howling; they are louder than the weather ¶or our office. Yet again? What do you here? Shall we ¶give over and drown? Have you a mind to sink?
¶Boatswain Work you, then!
¶Antonio Hang, cur. Hang, you whoreson, insolent ¶noisemaker! We are less afraid to be drowned than thou art.
¶Gonzalo I'll warrant him for drowning, though the 55ship were no stronger than a nutshell and as leaky as ¶an unstanched wench.
¶
Enter Mariners, wet.
60Mariners All lost! To prayers, to prayers! All lost!
¶Boatswain What, must our mouths be cold?
¶Sebastian I am out of patience.
¶Gonzalo He'll be hanged yet,
¶Though every drop of water swear against it
| 70And gape at wid'st to glut him. | |
A confused noise within | |
| ¶Gonzalo | |
| Mercy on us! | |
¶Mariners We split, we split! Farewell, my wife and children!
¶Farewell, brother! We split, we split, we split!
¶Antonio Let's all sink wi'th' King.
75Sebastian Let's take leave of him.
Exit [Antonio and Sebastian].
¶Gonzalo Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea ¶for an acre of barren ground -- long heath, brown ¶furze, anything. The wills above be done, but I would ¶fain die a dry death.
Exit.
