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  • Title: The Tempest (Folio 1, 1623)
  • Editors: Brent Whitted, Paul Yachnin

    • ISBN: 978-1-55058-370-0

    Copyright Internet Shakespeare Editions. This text may be freely used for educational, non-proift purposes; for all other uses contact the Coordinating Editor.
    Author: William Shakespeare
    Editors: Brent Whitted, Paul Yachnin
    Peer Reviewed

    The Tempest (Folio 1, 1623)

    6
    The Tempest.
    Pros. Speake not you for him: hee's a Traitor: come,
    Ile manacle thy necke and feete toge ther:
    Sea water shalt thou drinke: thy food shall be
    The fresh-brooke Mussels, wither'd roots, and huskes
    620Wherein the Acorne cradled. Follow.
    Fer. No,
    I will resist such entertainment, till
    Mine enemy ha's more pow'r.
    He drawes, and is charmed from mouing.
    625Mira. O deere Father,
    Make not too rash a triall of him, for
    Hee's gentle, and not fearfull.
    Pros. What I say,
    My foote my Tutor? Put thy sword vp Traitor,
    630Who mak'st a shew, but dar'st not strike: thy conscience
    Is so possest with guilt: Come, from thy ward,
    For I can heere disarme thee with this sticke,
    And make thy weapon drop.
    Mira. Beseech you Father.
    635Pros. Hence: hang not on my garments.
    Mira. Sir haue pity,
    Ile be his surety.
    Pros. Silence: One word more
    Shall make me chide thee, if not hate thee: What,
    640An aduocate for an Impostor? Hush:
    Thou think'st there is no more such shapes as he,
    (Hauing seene but him and Caliban:) Foolish wench,
    To th'most of men, this is a Caliban,
    And they to him are Angels.
    645Mira. My affections
    Are then most humble: I haue no ambition
    To see a goodlier man.
    Pros. Come on, obey:
    Thy Nerues are in their infancy againe.
    650And haue no vigour in them.
    Fer. So they are:
    My spirits, as in a dreame, are all bound vp:
    My Fathers losse, the weaknesse which I feele,
    The wracke of all my friends, nor this mans threats,
    655To whom I am subdude, are but light to me,
    Might I but through my prison once a day
    Behold this Mayd: all corners else o'th' Earth
    Let liberty make vse of: space enough
    Haue I in such a prison.
    660Pros. It workes: Come on.
    Thou hast done well, fine Ariell: follow me,
    Harke what thou else shalt do mee.
    Mira. Be of comfort,
    My Fathers of a better nature (Sir)
    665Then he appeares by speech: this is vnwonted
    Which now came from him.
    Pros. Thou shalt be as free
    As mountaine windes; but then exactly do
    All points of my command.
    670Ariell. To th'syllable.
    Pros. Come follow: speake not for him. Exeunt.


    Actus Secundus. Scoena Prima.


    Enter Alonso, Sebastian, Anthonio, Gonzalo, Adrian,
    Francisco, and others.
    675Gonz. Beseech you Sir, be merry; you haue cause,
    (So haue we all) of ioy; for our escape

    Is much beyond our losse; our hint of woe
    Is common, euery day, some Saylors wife,
    The Masters of some Merchant, and the Merchant
    680Haue iust our Theame of woe: But for the miracle,
    (I meane our preseruation) few in millions
    Can speake like vs: then wisely (good Sir) weigh
    Our sorrow, with our comfort.
    Alons. Prethee peace.
    685Seb. He receiues comfort like cold porredge.
    Ant. The Visitor will not giue him ore so.
    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.
    Gon. Dolour comes to him indeed, you haue spoken
    695truer then you purpos'd.
    Seb. You haue taken it wiselier then I meant you
    should.
    Gon. Therefore my Lord.
    Ant. Fie, what a spend-thrift is he of his tongue.
    700Alon. I pre-thee spare.
    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.
    710Adr. Though this Island seeme to be desert.
    Seb. Ha, ha, ha.
    Ant. So: you'r paid.
    Adr. Vninhabitable, and almost inaccessible.
    Seb. Yet
    715Adr. Yet
    Ant. He could not misse't.
    Adr. It must needs be of subtle, tender, and delicate
    temperance.
    Ant. Temperance was a delicate wench.
    720Seb. I, and a subtle, as he most learnedly deliuer'd.
    Adr. The ayre breathes vpon vs here most sweetly.
    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.
    725Ant. True, saue meanes to liue.
    Seb. Of that there's none, or little.
    Gon. How lush and lusty the grasse lookes?
    How greene?
    Ant. The ground indeed is tawny.
    730Seb. With an eye of greene in't.
    Ant. He misses not much.
    Seb. No: he doth but mistake the truth totally.
    Gon. But the rariety of it is, which is indeed almost
    beyond credit.
    735Seb. As many voucht rarieties are.
    Gon. That our Garments being (as they were) drencht
    in the Sea, hold notwithstanding their freshnesse and
    glosses, being rather new dy'de then stain'd with salte
    water.
    740Ant. If but one of his pockets could speake, would
    it not say he lyes?
    Seb. I, or very falsely pocket vp his report.
    Gon.
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