William Shakespeare - The Complete Works of William Shakespeare

Is the third man that e’er I saw; the first

That e’er I sigh’d for; pity move my father

To be inclin’d my way!

FERDINAND.

[Aside.] O! if a virgin,

And your affection not gone forth, I’ll make you

The Queen of Naples.

PROSPERO.

Soft, sir; one word more—

[Aside] They are both in either’s powers: but this swift

business I must uneasy make, lest too light winning

Make the prize light. [To FERDINAND] One word more:

I charge thee

That thou attend me. Thou dost here usurp

The name thou ow’st not; and hast put thyself

Upon this island as a spy, to win it

From me, the lord on’t.

FERDINAND.

No, as I am a man.

MIRANDA.

There’s nothing ill can dwell in such a temple:

If the ill spirit have so fair a house,

Good things will strive to dwell with’t.

PROSPERO.

{To FERDINAND] Follow me.—

[To MIRANDA] Speak not you for him; he’s a traitor.—

[To FERDINAND] Come;

I’ll manacle thy neck and feet together:

Sea-water shalt thou drink; thy food shall be

The fresh-brook mussels, wither’d roots, and husks

Wherein the acorn cradled. Follow.

FERDINAND.

No;

I will resist such entertainment till

Mine enemy has more power.

[He draws, and is charmed from moving.]

MIRANDA.

O dear father!

Make not too rash a trial of him, for

He’s gentle, and not fearful.

PROSPERO.

What! I say,

My foot my tutor? Put thy sword up, traitor;

Who mak’st a show, but dar’st not strike, thy conscience

Is so possess’d with guilt: come from thy ward,

For I can here disarm thee with this stick

And make thy weapon drop.

MIRANDA.

Beseech you, father!

PROSPERO.

Hence! Hang not on my garments.

MIRANDA.

Sir, have pity;

I’ll be his surety.

PROSPERO.

Silence! One word more

Shall make me chide thee, if not hate thee. What!

An advocate for an impostor? hush!

Thou think’st there is no more such shapes as he,

Having seen but him and Caliban: foolish wench!

To the most of men this is a Caliban,

And they to him are angels.

MIRANDA.

My affections

Are then most humble; I have no ambition

To see a goodlier man.

PROSPERO.

[To FERDINAND] Come on; obey:

Thy nerves are in their infancy again,

And have no vigour in them.

FERDINAND.

So they are:

My spirits, as in a dream, are all bound up.

My father’s loss, the weakness which I feel,

The wrack of all my friends, nor this man’s threats,

To whom I am subdued, are but light to me,

Might I but through my prison once a day

Behold this maid: all corners else o’ th’ earth

Let liberty make use of; space enough

Have I in such a prison.

PROSPERO.

[Aside] It works.—[To FERDINAND] Come on.—

Thou hast done well, fine Ariel! [To FERDINAND] Follow me.—

[To ARIEL] Hark what thou else shalt do me.

MIRANDA.

Be of comfort;

My father’s of a better nature, sir,

Than he appears by speech: this is unwonted,

Which now came from him.

PROSPERO.

Thou shalt be as free

As mountain winds; but then exactly do

All points of my command.

ARIEL.

To the syllable.

PROSPERO.

[To FERDINAND] Come, follow.—Speak not for him.

[Exeunt]

ACT 2

SCENE I.—Another part of the island

[Enter ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, GONZALO, ADRIAN, FRANCISCO, and OTHERS]

GONZALO.

Beseech you, sir, be merry; you have cause,

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,

Have 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.

SEBASTIAN.

He receives comfort like cold porridge.

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,—

SEBASTIAN.

One: tell.

GONZALO.

When every grief is entertain’d that’s offer’d,

Comes to the entertainer—

SEBASTIAN.

A dollar.

GONZALO. Dolour comes to him, indeed: you have spoken truer than you purposed.

SEBASTIAN.

You have taken it wiselier than I meant you should.

GONZALO.

Therefore, my lord,—

ANTONIO.

Fie, what a spendthrift is he of his tongue!

ALONSO.

I prithee, spare.

GONZALO.

Well, I have done: but yet—

SEBASTIAN.

He will be talking.

ANTONIO. Which, of he or Adrian, for a good wager, first begins to crow?

SEBASTIAN.

The old cock.

ANTONIO.

The cockerel.

SEBASTIAN.

Done. The wager?

ANTONIO.

A laughter.

SEBASTIAN.

A match!

ADRIAN.

Though this island seem to be desert,—

SEBASTIAN.

Ha, ha, ha! So, you’re paid.

ADRIAN.

Uninhabitable, and almost inaccessible,—

SEBASTIAN.

Yet—

ADRIAN.

Yet—

ANTONIO.

He could not miss it.

ADRIAN. It must needs be of subtle, tender, and delicate temperance.

ANTONIO.

Temperance was a delicate wench.

SEBASTIAN.

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 perfum’d by a fen.

GONZALO.

Here is everything advantageous to life.

ANTONIO.

True; save means to live.

SEBASTIAN.

Of that there’s none, or little.

GONZALO.

How lush and lusty the grass looks! how green!

ANTONIO.

The ground indeed is tawny.

SEBASTIAN.

With an eye of green in’t.

ANTONIO.

He misses not much.

SEBASTIAN.

No; he doth but mistake the truth totally.

GONZALO. But the rarity of it is,—which is indeed almost beyond credit,—

SEBASTIAN.

As many vouch’d 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 stain’d with salt water.

ANTONIO. If but one of his pockets could speak, would it not say he lies?

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 Afric, at the marriage of the king’s fair daughter Claribel to the King of Tunis.

SEBASTIAN.

‘Twas a sweet marriage, and we prosper well in our return.

ADRIAN. Tunis was never graced before with such a paragon to their queen.

GONZALO.

Not since widow Dido’s time.

ANTONIO.

Widow! a pox o’ that! How came that widow in? Widow Dido!

SEBASTIAN.

What if he had said, widower Aeneas too?

Good Lord, how you take it!

ADRIAN.

Widow Dido said you? You make me study of that; she was of

Carthage, not of Tunis.

GONZALO.

This Tunis, sir, was Carthage.

ADRIAN.

Carthage?

GONZALO.

I assure you, Carthage.

ANTONIO.

His word is more than the miraculous harp.

SEBASTIAN.

He hath rais’d the wall, and houses too.

ANTONIO.

What impossible matter will he make easy next?

SEBASTIAN. I think he will carry this island home in his pocket, and give it his son for an apple.

ANTONIO. And, sowing the kernels of it in the sea, bring forth more islands.