The Tempest (Modern)
Peer Reviewed
¶[2.1]
¶So have we all -- of joy, for our escape
¶Is much beyond our loss. Our hint of woe
¶Is common: every day, some sailor's wife,
¶The masters of some merchant, and the merchant
680Have just our theme of woe -- but for the miracle
¶(I mean our preservation), few in millions
¶Can speak like us. Then wisely, good sir, weigh
| ¶Our sorrow with our comfort. | |
| ¶Alonso | |
| Prithee, peace. | |
¶Antonio The visitor will not give him o'er so.
¶Sebastian Look, he's winding up the watch of his wit;
¶By and by it will strike.
| ¶Gonzalo | ||
| Sir -- | ||
| 690Sebastian | ||
| One. Tell. | ||
| ¶Gonzalo | ||
| When every grief is entertained | ||
| ¶That's offered, comes to th'entertainer -- | |
| ¶Sebastian | |
| A dollar. | |
¶Gonzalo Therefore, my Lord --
¶Antonio Fie, what a spendthrift is he of his tongue.
¶Gonzalo Well, I have done. But yet --
¶Sebastian He will be talking.
705Sebastian The old cock.
¶Antonio The cockerel.
¶Sebastian Done. The wager?
¶Antonio A laughter.
¶Sebastian A match!
710Adrian Though this island seem to be desert --
¶Antonio Ha, ha, ha!
¶Adrian Uninhabitable and almost inaccessible --
¶Sebastian Yet --
715Adrian Yet --
¶Antonio He could not miss it.
¶Antonio Temperance was a delicate wench.
720Sebastian Ay, and a subtle, as he most learnedly delivered.
¶Adrian The air breathes upon us here most sweetly.
¶Sebastian As if it had lungs -- and rotten ones.
¶Antonio Or as 'twere perfumed by a fen.
¶Gonzalo Here is everything advantageous to life.
725Antonio True, save means to live.
¶Sebastian Of that there's none or little.
¶Antonio The ground indeed is tawny.
730Sebastian With an eye of green in it.
¶Antonio He misses not much.
¶Sebastian No, he doth but mistake the truth totally.
735Sebastian As many vouched rarities are.
¶Gonzalo That our garments, being as they were drenched ¶in the sea, hold notwithstanding their freshness and ¶glosses, being rather new-dyed than stained with salt ¶water.
¶Sebastian Ay, or very falsely pocket up his report.
¶Gonzalo Methinks our garments are now as fresh as ¶when we put them on first in Africa at the marriage 745of the King's fair daughter Claribel to the King of Tunis.
750Gonzalo Not since widow Dido's time.
¶Gonzalo This Tunis, sir, was Carthage.
¶Adrian Carthage?
Gonzalo I assure you -- Carthage.
¶Antonio His word is more than the miraculous harp.
760Sebastian He hath raised the wall and houses too.
¶Antonio What impossible matter will he make easy next?
¶Gonzalo Ay --
Antonio Why, in good time.
¶Gonzalo [To Alonso] Sir, we were talking that our garments seem ¶now as fresh as when we were at Tunis at the marriage ¶of your daughter, who is now queen.
770Antonio And the rarest that e'er came there.
¶Sebastian Bate, I beseech you, widow Dido.
¶Antonio Oh, widow Dido? Ay, widow Dido!
¶Gonzalo [To Alonso] Is not, sir, my doublet as fresh as the first day I ¶wore it -- I mean, in a sort?
775Antonio That sort was well fished for.
¶Gonzalo When I wore it at your daughter's marriage?
¶Alonso You cram these words into mine ears against
¶The stomach of my sense. Would I had never
¶Married my daughter there, for coming thence
780My son is lost; and, in my rate, she too,
¶Who is so far from Italy removed,
¶I ne'er again shall see her. O thou mine heir
¶Of Naples and of Milan, what strange fish
| ¶Hath made his meal on thee? | |
| 785Francisco | |
| Sir, he may live. | |
¶I saw him beat the surges under him
¶And ride upon their backs; he trod the water,
¶Whose enmity he flung aside, and brested
¶The surge most swoll'n that met him. His bold head
790'Bove the contentious waves he kept, and oared
¶Himself with his good arms in lusty stroke
¶To th'shore that o'er his wave-worn basis bowed
¶As stooping to relieve him -- I not doubt
| ¶He came alive to land. | |
| 795Alonso | |
| No, no, he's gone! | |
¶Sebastian Sir, you may thank yourself for this great loss,
¶That would not bless our Europe with your daughter,
¶But rather loose her to an African,
¶Where she at least is banished from your eye,
| 800Who hath cause to wet the grief on't. | |
| ¶Alonso | |
| Prithee, peace. | |
¶Sebastian You were kneeled to and importuned otherwise
¶By all of us, and the fair soul herself
¶Weighed between loathness and obedience, at
805Which end o'th'beam should bow. We have lost your son,
¶I fear, forever; Milan and Naples have
¶More widows in them of this business' making
¶Than we bring men to comfort them --
| ¶The fault's your own. | |
| 810Alonso | |
| So is the dear'st o'th'loss. | |
¶Gonzalo My Lord Sebastian,
¶The truth you speak doth lack some gentleness
¶And time to speak it in; you rub the sore
| ¶When you should bring the plaster. | |
| 815Sebastian | |
| Very well. | |
Antonio And most chirurgeonly.
| ¶When you are cloudy. | ||
| ¶Sebastian | ||
| Foul weather? | ||
| Antonio | ||
| Very foul. | ||
¶Gonzalo Had I plantation of this isle, my Lord --
| 820Antonio | |
| He'd sow't with nettle-seed. | |
| ¶Sebastian | |
| Or docks or mallows. | |
¶Gonzalo And were the King on't, what would I do?
¶Sebastian 'Scape being drunk for want of wine.
¶Gonzalo I'th'commonwealth I would by contraries
825Execute all things, for no kind of traffic
¶Would I admit: no name of magistrate;
¶Letters should not be known; riches, poverty,
¶And use of service, none; contract, succession,
¶Bourne, bound of land, tilth, vineyard, none;
830No use of metal, corn, or wine, or oil;
¶No occupation -- all men idle all,
¶And women too, but innocent and pure;
| ¶No sovereignty -- | |
| ¶Sebastian | |
| Yet he would be King on't! | |
¶Gonzalo All things in common nature should produce
¶Without sweat or endeavor. Treason, felony,
¶Sword, pike, knife, gun, or need of any engine
840Would I not have; but nature should bring forth
¶Of its own kind all foison, all abundance,
¶To feed my innocent people.
¶Sebastian No marrying 'mong his subjects?
¶Antonio None, man, all idle -- whores and knaves.
845Gonzalo I would, with such perfection, govern, sir,
| ¶T'excel the Golden Age. | |
| ¶Sebastian | |
| 'Save his majesty. | |
| Antonio | |
| Long live Gonzalo! | |
| ¶Gonzalo | |
| [To Alonso] And -- do you mark me, sir? | |
¶Alonso Prithee, no more: thou dost talk nothing to me.
850Gonzalo I do well believe your highness, and did it ¶to minister occasion to these gentlemen, who are of ¶such sensible and nimble lungs that they always use ¶to laugh at nothing.
¶Antonio 'Twas you we laughed at.
855Gonzalo Who, in this kind of merry fooling, am nothing ¶to you; so you may continue and laugh at nothing still!
¶Antonio What a blow was there given!
¶Sebastian And it had not fallen flat-long.
¶Gonzalo You are gentlemen of brave metal; you would 860lift the moon out of her sphere if she would continue ¶in it five weeks without changing.
¶
Enter Ariel [invisible], playing solemn music.
¶Sebastian We would so, and then go a-bat-fowling.
¶Antonio Nay, good my lord, be not angry.
865Gonzalo No, I warrant you; I will not adventure my ¶discretion so weakly. Will you laugh me asleep, for I ¶am very heavy?
¶Antonio Go sleep, and hear us.
[All sleep, except Alonso, Sebastian, and Antonio.]
¶Alonso What, all so soon asleep? I wish mine eyes
870Would with themselves shut up my thoughts;
¶I find they are inclined to do so.
¶Sebastian Please you, sir,
¶Do not omit the heavy offer of it.
¶It seldom visits sorrow; when it doth, it is a comforter.
875Antonio We two, my Lord, will guard your person
¶While you take your rest, and watch your safety.
¶Alonso Thank you -- wondrous heavy --
[Alonso sleeps. Exit Ariel.]
¶Sebastian What a strange drowsiness possesses them.
| ¶Antonio | |
| It is the quality o'th'climate. | |
| 880Sebastian | |
| Why | |
¶Doth it not then our eyelids sink? I find
¶Not myself disposed to sleep.
¶Antonio Nor I. My spirits are nimble.
¶They fell together all, as by consent.
885They dropped as by a thunder-stroke. What might,
¶Worthy Sebastian? Oh, what might -- ? No more --
¶And yet methinks I see it in thy face,
¶What thou shouldst be -- th'occasion speaks thee, and
¶My strong imagination sees a crown
| 890Dropping upon thy head. | |
| ¶Sebastian | |
| What, art thou waking? | |
| ¶Antonio | |
| Do you not hear me speak? | |
| ¶Sebastian | |
| I do, and surely | |
¶It is a sleepy language, and thou speak'st
895Out of thy sleep. What is it thou didst say?
¶This is a strange repose, to be asleep
¶With eyes wide open -- standing, speaking, moving,
| ¶And yet so fast asleep. | |
| ¶Antonio | |
| Noble Sebastian, | |
900Thou let'st thy fortune sleep (die rather); wink'st
| ¶Whiles thou art waking. | |
| ¶Sebastian | |
| Thou dost snore distinctly -- | |
¶There's meaning in thy snores.
¶Antonio I am more serious than my custom; you
905Must be so too, if heed me, which to do
| ¶Trebles thee o'er. | |
| ¶Sebastian | |
| Well, I am standing water. | |
| ¶Antonio | |
| I'll teach you how to flow. | |
| ¶Sebastian | |
| Do so; to ebb | |
| 910Hereditary sloth instructs me. | |
| ¶Antonio | |
| Oh, | |
¶If you but knew how you the purpose cherish
¶Whiles thus you mock it, how in stripping it
¶You more invest it! Ebbing men indeed
915Most often do so near the bottom run
| ¶By their own fear or sloth. | |
| ¶Sebastian | |
| Prithee, say on -- | |
¶The setting of thine eye and cheek proclaim
¶A matter from thee and a birth indeed,
920Which throws thee much to yield.
¶Antonio Thus, Sir,
¶Although this Lord of weak remembrance, this
¶Who shall be of as little memory
¶When he is earthed, hath here almost persuaded
925(For he's a spirit of persuasion, only
¶Professes to persuade) the King his son's alive,
¶'Tis as impossible that he's undrowned
| ¶As he that sleeps here, swims. | |
| ¶Sebastian | |
| I have no hope | |
| 930That he's undrowned. | |
| ¶Antonio | |
| Oh, out of that "no hope" | |
¶What great hope have you! No hope that way is,
¶Another way, so high a hope that even
¶Ambition cannot pierce a wink beyond
935But doubt discovery there. Will you grant with me
¶That Ferdinand is drowned?
¶Sebastian He's gone.
¶Antonio Then tell me, who's the next heir of Naples?
¶Sebastian Claribel.
940Antonio She that is Queen of Tunis, she that dwells
¶Ten leagues beyond man's life, she that from Naples
¶Can have no note unless the sun were post
¶(The man i'th'moon's too slow) till newborn chins
¶Be rough and razorable; she that from whom
945We all were sea-swallowed, though some cast again,
¶And by that destiny to perform an act
¶Whereof what's past is prologue, what to come
¶In yours and my discharge.
¶Sebastian What stuff is this? How say you?
950'Tis true my brother's daughter's Queen of Tunis;
¶So is she heir of Naples, 'twixt which regions
| ¶There is some space. | |
| ¶Antonio | |
| A space whose every cubit | |
¶Seems to cry out, "how shall that Claribel
955Measure us back to Naples? Keep in Tunis,
¶And let Sebastian wake." Say this were death
¶That now hath seized them -- why, they were no worse
¶Than now they are. There be that can rule Naples
¶As well as he that sleeps, lords that can prate
960As amply and unnecessarily
¶As this Gonzalo. I myself could make
¶A chough of as deep chat. Oh, that you bore
¶The mind that I do -- what a sleep were this
¶For your advancement. Do you understand me?
| 965Sebastian | |
| Methinks I do. | |
| ¶Antonio | |
| And how does your content | |
| ¶Tender your own good fortune? | |
| ¶Sebastian | |
| I remember | |
| ¶You did supplant your brother Prospero. | |
| 970Antonio | |
| True, | |
¶And look how well my garments sit upon me
¶Much feater than before. My brother's servants
¶Were then my fellows, now they are my men.
¶Sebastian But for your conscience?
975Antonio Ay, sir, where lies that? If 'twere a kibe,
¶'Twould put me to my slipper. But I feel not
¶This deity in my bosom. Twenty consciences
¶That stand 'twixt me and Milan, candied be they
¶And melt ere they molest. Here lies your brother,
980No better than the earth he lies upon.
¶If he were that which now he's like, that's dead
¶(Whom I, with this obedient steel, three inches of it,
¶Can lay to bed forever), whiles you, doing thus,
¶To the perpetual wink for aye, might put
985This ancient morsel, this Sir Prudence, who
¶Should not upbraid our course. For all the rest,
¶They'll take suggestion as a cat laps milk;
¶They'll tell the clock to any business that
| ¶We say befits the hour. | |
| 990Sebastian | |
| Thy case, dear friend, | |
¶Shall be my precedent. As thou got'st Milan,
¶I'll come by Naples. Draw thy sword: one stroke
¶Shall free thee from the tribute which thou payest,
| ¶And I, the King, shall love thee. | |
| 995Antonio | |
| Draw together, | |
¶And when I rear my hand, do you the like
| ¶To fall it on Gonzalo. | |
| ¶Sebastian | |
| Oh, but one word -- | |
¶
[They talk apart.] Enter Ariel, invisible, with music and song.
1000Ariel My master, through his art, foresees the danger
¶That you, his friend, are in, and sends me forth
¶(For else his project dies) to keep them living.
¶
Sings in Gonzalo's ear
¶
While you here do snoring lie,
1005Open-eyed conspiracy¶His time doth take.¶If of life you keep a care,¶Shake off slumber, and beware:¶Awake, awake!
1010Antonio Then let us both be sudden.
¶Gonzalo Now, good angels, preserve the King!
¶Alonso Why, how now, ho! Awake! Why are you drawn?
| ¶Wherefore this ghastly looking? | |
| ¶Gonzalo | |
| What's the matter? | |
1015Sebastian Whiles we stood here securing your repose,
¶Even now we heard a hollow burst of bellowing
¶Like bulls, or rather lions -- did't not wake you?
| ¶It struck mine ear most terribly. | |
| ¶Alonso | |
| I heard nothing. | |
1020Antonio Oh, 'twas a din to fright a monster's ear,
¶To make an earthquake! Sure it was the roar
| ¶Of a whole herd of lions. | |
| ¶Alonso | |
| Heard you this, Gonzalo? | |
¶Gonzalo Upon mine honor, sir, I heard a humming,
1025And that a strange one too, which did awake me.
¶I shook you, sir, and cried. As mine eyes opened,
¶I saw their weapons drawn. There was a noise,
¶That's verily. 'Tis best we stand upon our guard
¶Or that we quit this place. Let's draw our weapons.
1030Alonso Lead off this ground, and let's make further search
| ¶For my poor son. | |
| ¶Gonzalo | |
| Heavens keep him from these beasts, | |
| ¶For he is sure i'th'island. | |
| ¶Alonso | |
| Lead away. | |
1035Ariel Prospero my Lord shall know what I have done:
¶So, King, go safely on to seek thy son.
Exeunt.
