 Dramatis Personi. The Tempest. By William Shakespeare. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information, or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. The Tempest. Dramatis Personi. Alonso. Played by Heavitt. Sebastian. Performed by Nathan Markham. Prospero. Performed by Bruce Peary. Antonio. Performed by Jason Mills. Ferdinand. Performed by MB. Gonzalo. Performed by Lorelle Anderson. Part of Adrian is performed by Eric Sulkowski. Francisco. Read by Aaron Elliott. Calibam. Performed by Jason Mills. Trinculo. Performed by Ryan Dre. Stefano. Performed by Arielle Lipschaw. Master of the Ship. Performed by Ross Clement. Boson. Performed by Jennifer Stearns. The Mariners. Performed by Miriam Esther Goldman. Miranda. Performed by Elizabeth Clett. Ariel. Performed by Karen Savage. Iris. Performed by Abigail Bartels. Played by Jessamy. Juno. Performed by Lucy Perry. End of Dramatis Personi. Act One. The Tempest. By William Shakespeare. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Act One. Scene One. On a ship at sea. A tempestuous noise of thunder and lightning heard. Enter a shipmaster and a boson. Boson. Here, master. What cheer? Good. Speak to the Mariners. Fold to it. Yali or you run ourselves aground. Biste. Biste. Exit. Enter Mariners. Hi, my hearts. Cheerly, cheerly, my hearts. Yar, yar. Take in the top sail. Blow to the burst thy wind, if room enough. Enter Alonso, Sebastian, Antonio, Ferdinand, Gonzalo, and others. Good boson, have a care. Where's the master? Play the men. I pray now, keep below. Where is the master, boson? Do you not hear him? You mire our labor. Keep your cabins. You do assist the storm. Nay, good. Be patient. When the sea is, hence. What cares these rowers for the name of King? To cabin. Silence. Trouble us not. Good, yet remember whom thou hast abhorred. None that I more love than myself. You are our counselor. And you can command these elements to silence and work the peace of the present. We will not hand or open 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 is so hap. Cheerly, good hearts, out of our way, I say. Exit I have great comfort from this fellow. Me thinks 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 own doth little advantage. If he be not born to be hanged, our case is miserable. Exeunt Reinter Bosun Down with the top mast. Yar. Lower, lower. Bring her to try with main course. A plague upon this howling. They are louder than the weather or our office. Reinter Sebastian, Antonio, and Gonzalo. Yet again? What do you hear? Shall we give oar and drown? Have you a mind to sink? A pox on your throat, you bawling, blasphemous, insurable dog. What you then? Hang, cur. Hang, you hoarse and insolent noisemaker. We are less afraid to be drowned than thou art. I'll warrant him for drowning, though the ship were no stronger than a nutshell, and as leaky as an unstanched wench. Lay her a hold, a hold. Set her two courses off to sea again. Lay her off. Intermariner's wet To prayers. To prayers. All lost. What? Must our mouths be cold? The king and prince at prayers. Let's assist them for our case is as theirs. I'm out of patience. We are merely cheated of our lives by drunkards. This wide-chapped rascal. Would thou might slide drowning the washing of ten tides? He'll be hanged yet, though every drop of water swear against it and gape at widest to glut him. A confused noise within. Mercy on us. We split. We split. Farewell, my wife and children. Farewell, brother. We split. We split. We split. Let's all sink with the king. Let's take leave of him. Exuant Antonio and Sebastian Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea for an acre of barren ground, long heath, brown furs, anything. The wills above be done, but I would feign thy a dry death. Exuant. Scene two. The Island. Before Prospero's cell. Enter Prospero and Miranda. If by your art, my dearest father, you have put the wild waters in this roar, allay them. The sky, it seems, would pour down stinking pitch, but that the sea, mounting to the welkin's cheek, dashes the fire out. Oh, I have suffered with those that I saw suffer. A brave vessel, who had no doubt some noble creature in her, dashed all to pieces. Oh, the cry did knock against my very heart. Poor souls, they perished. Had I been any god of power, I would have sunk the sea within the earth, or ere it should the good ship so have swallowed, and the frotting souls within her. Be collected. No more amazement. Tell your piteous heart there's no harm done. Oh, whoa, the day! No harm. I have done nothing but in care of thee, of thee, my dear one, thee, my daughter, who art ignorant of what thou art, not knowing of whence I am, nor that I am more better than Prospero, master of a full poor cell, and thy no greater father. More to know did never meddle with my thoughts. His time I should inform thee farther, lend the hand, and pluck my magic garment from me. So, lays down his mantle. Lie there, my art. Wipe thou thine eyes, have comfort. The direful spectacle of the wreck which touched the very virtue of compassion in thee. I have, with such provision in mine art, so safely ordered, that there is no soul. No, not so much perdition as an hare, be tiddled to any creature in the vessel, which thou heardst cry, which thou sawst sink. Sit down, for thou must now know farther. You have often begun to tell me what I am, but stopped, and left me to a bootless inquisition concluding, stay, not yet. The hours now come. The very minute bids thee opethine ear, obey, and be attentive. Can't thou remember a time before we came unto this cell? I do not think thou canst, for then thou was not out three years old. Certainly, sir, I can. But, by any other host or person, of any thing the image tell me that hath kept with thy remembrance. Tis far off, and rather like a dream than an assurance that my remembrance warrants. Had I not four or five women once that tended me? Thou hadst, and more Miranda, but how is it that this lives in thy mind? What seeest thou else in the dark backward and abysm of time? If thou rememberst ought ere thou camest here, how thou camest here, thou mayest? But that I do not. Twelve years since, Miranda, twelve years since thy father was the Duke of Millen and a Prince of Power. Sir, are not you my father? Thy mother was a piece of virtue, and she said thou wasst my daughter, and thy father was Duke of Millen, and his only heir and princess no worse issued. Oh, the heavens! What foul play had we that we came from thence, or blessed wasst we did? Both, both, my girl, by foul play, as thou sayest, were we heaved thence, but blessedly hauled hither. Oh, my heart bleeds to think of the teen that I have turned you to, which is from my remembrance. Please, you father! My brother and thy uncle, called Antonio, I pray thee, mark me, that a brother should be so perfidious, he whom next thyself of all the world I loved, and to him put the manage of my state, as at that time through all the seniories it was the first, and prospero the prime Duke, being so reputed in dignity, and for the liberal arts without a parallel, those being all my study, the government I cast upon my brother, and to my state grew stranger, being transported and wrapped in secret studies. Thy false uncle, thus thou attend me. Sir, most heedfully. Being once perfected, how to grant suits, how to deny them, whom to advance, and whom to trash for overtopping, new created the creatures that were mine. I say, or changed them, or else new formed them, having both the key of officer and office set all hearts in the state to what tune pleased his ear, that now he was the ivy which had hid my princely trunk, and sucked my verger out on it. Thou attendest not. How could, sir, I do! I pray thee, mark me. I, thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicated to closeness, and the bettering of my mind with that which, but by being so retired or prized all popular rate, in my false brother awaked an evil nature. And my trust, like a good parent, did beget of him a falsehood in its contrary as great as my trust was, which indeed had no limit, a confidence sans bound. He being thus lorded, not only with what my revenue yielded, but what my power might else exact, like one who, having into truth by telling of it, made such a sinner of his memory to credit his own lie, he did believe he was indeed the duke, out of the substitution and executing the outward face of royalty with all prerogative, hence his ambition growing dost thou hear? Your tale, sir, would cure deafness. To have no screen between this part he played, and him he played it for, he needs will be absolute millon. Me, poor man, my library was duked am large enough. Of temporal royalties he thinks me now incapable. Confederates so dry he was for sway, with the king and Naples to give him annual tribute, do him homage, subject his coronet to his crown, and bend the duked am yet unbowed, alas, poor millon, to most ignoble stooping. Oh, the heavens! Mark his condition and the event, then tell me if this might be a brother. I should sin to think but nobly of my grandmother. Good wombs have born bad sons. Now the condition. This king of Naples, being an enemy to me and veterate, harkens my brother's suit, which was that he, in lieu of the premises of homage and I know not how much tribute, should presently extirpate me and mine out of the duked am, and confer fair millon with all the honors on my brother. Whereon, a treacherous army levied, one midnight fated to the purpose, did Antonio open the gates of millon, and in the dead a darkness, the ministers for the purpose hurried thence me and thy crying self. Oh, a lack for pity! I, not remembering how I cried out then, will cry it or again. It is a hint that brings mine eyes to it. Here a little further and then I'll bring thee to the present business, which now's upon us, without the which this story were most impertinent. Wherefore did they not that hour destroy us? Well demanded, wench, my tale provokes that question. Dear, they durst not, so dear the love my people bore me, nor set a mark so bloody on the business, but with colors fairer painted their foul ends. In few they hurried us aboard a bark, bore us some leagues to see, where they prepared a rotten carcass of a boat not rigged nor tackled sail nor mast. The very rats instinctively have quit it, there they hoist us to cry to the sea that roared to us, to sigh to the winds whose pity, sighing back again, did us but loving wrong. Alack, what trouble was I then to you? Oh, a cherub and thou wasst that did preserve me. Thou didst smile, infused with a fortitude from heaven, when I have decked the sea with dropsful salt, under my birthing groan'd, which raised in me an undergoing stomach to bear up against what should ensue. How came we ashore? My providence divine. Some food we had, and some fresh water, that a noble Neapolitan Gonzalo out of his charity, who being then appointed master of this design, did give us with rich garments, linens, stuffs and necessaries, which since have steadied much. So of his gentleness, knowing I loved my books, he furnished me from my own library with volumes that I prize above my dukedom. What I might but ever see that man. Now I arise. Resumes his mantle. Sit still, and hear the last of our sea-thorrow. Here in this island we arrived, and here have I, thy schoolmaster, made thee more profit than other princesses can, that have more time for vainer hours and tutors not so careful. Heavens, thank you for it. And now I pray you, sir, for Stilt is beating in my mind, your reason for raising this sea-storm? Know thus far forth. By accident most strange, bountiful fortune, now my dear lady, hath mine enemies brought to this shore, and by my prescience I find my zenith doth depend upon a most auspicious star, whose influence if now I court not but omit my fortunes will ever after droop. Here cease more questions. Thou art inclined to sleep. Tis a good dullness, and give it way. I know thou canst not choose. Miranda sleeps. Come away, servant, come. I am ready now. Approach my aerial. Come. Enter aerial. All hail, great master. Grave, sir, hail. I come to answer thy best pleasure, be it to fly, to swim, to dive into the fire, to ride on the curled clouds to thy strong bidding task, aerial and all his quality. Hast thou spirit performed to point the tempest that I bid thee? To every article. I boarded the king's ship, now on the beak, now in the waist, the deck, in every cabin I flamed amazement. Sometime I'd divide and burn in many places. On the top must the yards and bowsprit would I flame distinctly, then meet and join. Jove's lightnings, the precursors of the dreadful thunder-claps, more momentary and sight-out-running were not. The fire and cracks of sulfurous roaring the most mighty Neptune seemed to besiege and make his bold waves tremble, yea, his dread trident shake. My brave spirit, who was so firm, so constant, that this coil would not infect his reason? Not a soul but felt a fever of the mad and played some tricks of desperation. All but Marinus plunged in the foaming brine and quit the vessel, then all of fire with me. The king's son Ferdinand, with hair up-staring, then like reeds, not hair, was the first man that leaped, cried, Hell is empty, and all the devils are here! Why, that's my spirit. But was this not Nyshore? Close by, my master. But are they aerial safe? Not a hair perished, on their sustaining garments not a blemish but fresher than before. And as thou baited me, in troops I have dispersed them about the isle, the king's son have I landed by himself, whom I left cooling of the air with sighs and an odd angle of the isle, and sitting his arms in this sad knot. Of the king's ship the Marinus say how thou hast disposed and all the rest of the fleet. Safely in harbour is the king's ship. In the deep nook where once thou called to me up at midnight to fetch dew from the still vexed Bermouths, there she's hid. The Marinus all under hatches stowed, who, with a charm joined to their suffered labour, I have left to sleep. And for the rest of the fleet, which I dispersed, they all have met again, and are upon the Mediterranean float, bound sadly home for Naples, supposing that they saw the king's ship wrecked, and his great person perish. Aerial, thy charge exactly is performed, but there's more work. What is the time of the day? Past the mid-season. At least two glasses. The time twixed six, and now must by us both be spent most preciously. Is there more toil? Since thou dost give me pains, let me remember thee what thou hast promised, which is not yet performed me. How now, Moody? What is it thou canst demand? My liberty. Before the time be out? No more. I prithee, remember I have done thee worthy service, told thee no lies, made thee no mistakings, served without all gradual grumblings. Thou didst promise to bake me a full year. Dost thou forget from what a torment I did free thee? No. Thou dost, and thinkest it much to tread the ooze of the salt deep, to run upon the sharp wind of the north, to do me business in the veins of the earth when it is baked with frost. I do not, sir. Thou liest malignant thing. Hast thou forgot the foul witch-sicker-axe, who with age and envy was grown into a hoop? Hast thou forgot her? No, sir. Thou hast, where was she born? Speak, tell me. Sir, in Argea. Oh, was she so? I must once in a month recount what thou hast been which thou forgettest. This damned witch-sicker-axe, from mischief's manifold and sorceries terrible to enter human hearing, from Argea, thou knowest, was banished, for one thing she did that would not take her life is not this true. Aye, sir. This blue-eyed hag was hither brought with child and here was left by the sailors. Thou, my slave, as thou reportest thyself, was then her servant, and for thou wasst a spirit too delicate to act her earthy and abhorred commands, refusing her grand-hests, she did confine thee by help of her more potent ministers and in her most unmitigable rage into a cloven pine, within which rift imprisoned thou didst painfully remain a dozen years, within which space she died and left thee there, where thou didst vent thy groans as fast as mill-wheel strike. Then was this island safe for the sun that she did litter here, a freckled welp hag-born, not honoured with a human shape. Yes. Caliban her son. Dull thing I say so, he that Caliban whom now I keep in service. Thou best knowest what torment I did find thee in, thy groans did make wolves howl and penetrate the breasts of ever-angry bears. It was a torment to lay upon the damned, which sycorax could not again undo. It was mine art when I arrived and heard thee that made gape the pine and let thee out. I thank thee, master. If thou more murmurst I will rend an oak and peg thee in his knotty entrails till thou hast howled away twelve winters. Pardon, master. I will be correspondent to command and do my spiriting gently. Do so, and after two days I will discharge thee. That's my noble master. What shall I do? Say what? What shall I do? Go make thyself like a nymph of the sea, be subject to no sight but thine and mine, invisible to every eyeball else. Go take this shape and hither come in it. Go, hence, with diligence. Exit Arial. Awake, dear heart, awake! Thou hast slept well. Awake! The strangeness of your story put heaviness in me. Shake it off. Come on. We'll visit Caliban, my slave, who never yields us kind answer. It is a villain, sir. I do not love to look on. But, as tis, we cannot miss him. He does make our fire, fetch in our wood and serves in offices that profit us. What ho? Slave. Caliban. Thou earth, thou speak. Caliban, within. There's what enough within. Come forth, I say, there's other business for thee. Come, thou tortoise, when? Re-enter Arial. Fine apparition, my queen Arial, harken thine ear. My lord, it shall be done. Exit. Thou poisonous slave got by the devil himself upon thy wicked dam. Come forth. Enter Caliban. As wicked Jew, as ere my mother brushed with raven's feather from unwholesome fed, drop on ye both. A south-west blow on ye. I'll bless you all over it. For this, be sure, to-night, thou shalt have cramps, side-stitches that shall pen thy breath up, urchins shall, for that vast of night that they may work all exercise on thee, thou shalt be pinched as thick as honeycomb, each pinch more stinging than bees that may them. I must eat my dinner. This island's mine by sycorax, my mother, wish thou takest from me. When thou came as first thou stroked me, and made as much of me, was give me waters with berries-int, and teach me how to name the bigger light, and how the less that burn by day and night. And then I loved thee. And showed thee all the quilters at Thile, the fresh springs, brine-pits, barren place and fertile, the first bee that I did so. All the charms of sycorax, toads, beetles, bats, light on you. For I am all the subjects that you have, which first was mine own king. And here you sty me in this hard rock, whilst you do keep me from the rest of Thile-land. Thou most lying slave, whom stripes may move not kindness, I have used thee filth as thou art with human care, and lodged thee in mine own cell, till thou didst seek to violate the honour of my child. Oh-ho! Oh-ho! What had had been done? Thou didst prevent me. I have peepled else this isle with callibans. Abhorrid slave, which any print of goodness will not take be incapable of all ill, I pitied thee, took pains to make thee speak, taught thee each hour one thing or other, when thou didst not savage know thine own meaning, but wouldst gabble like a thing most brutish, I endowed thy purposes with words that made them known. But thy vile race, though thou didst learn, had that in it which good natures could not abide to be with, therefore was thou deservedly confined into this rock who hadst deserved more than a prison. You taught me language, and my prophet aunt is I know how to curse. The red plague rid you from learning me your language. Hag seed hence. Fetch us in fuel and be quick, thou art best, to answer other business. Shruggest thou, malice? If thou neglectest or dust unwillingly what I command, I'll rack thee with old cramps, fill all by bones with aches, make thee roar, that beasts shall tremble at thy din. Oh, pray thee! Aside. Must obey. His art is of such power it would control my dam's god, set a bottom, make a vassal of him. So, slave, hence. Exit Caliban. Re-enter Ariel, invisible, playing and singing. Ferdinand following. Ariel's song. Come unto these yellow sands, and then take hands, curtsied when you have, and kissed the wild wave's wist. Foot it feetly here and there, and sweet sprites the bourbon bear. Huck, huck, bow-wow, the watchdog's bark. Bow-wow. Huck, huck, I hear the strain of strutting shanticleer cry cock-a-diddle-dow. Where should this music be? The air or the earth? It sounds no more. And sure it waits upon some god of the island. Sitting on a bank, weeping again the king my father's wreck, this music crept by me upon the waters, allaying both their fury and my passion with its sweet air. Thence I have followed it, or it hath drawn me rather. But his gone. No, it begins again. Ariel sings. Full fathom five thy father lies, of his bones are coral made. Those are pearls that were his eyes, nothing of him that doth fade, but doth suffer a sea change into something rich and strange. See nymphs hourly ring his knell. Ding-dong. Huck, now I hear them. Ding-dong bell. The diddy does remember my drowned father. This is no mortal business, nor no sound that the earth owes. I hear it now above me. The fringed curtains of thine eye advance, and say what thou seest yond. What is't a spirit? Lord, how it looks about! Believe me, sir, it carries a brave form. But is a spirit? No, whence it eats and sleeps and hath such senses as we have such. This gallant which thou seest was in the wreck, and but he's something stained with grief that's beauty's canker, thou mightst call him a goodly person. He hath lost his fellows and strays about to find them. I might call him a thing divine, for nothing natural I ever saw so noble. Aside it goes on, I see, as my soul prompts it. Spirit, find spirit, I'll free thee within two days for this. Most sure the goddess on whom these heirs attend. Vouch save my prayer may know if you remain upon this island, and that you will some good instruction give how I may bear me here. My prime request, which I do last pronounces, oh, you wonder if you be made or no? No wonder, sir, but certainly a maid. My language? Heavens! I am the best of them that speak this speech. Were I but where it is spoken? How the best? What work thou if the king of Naples heard thee? A single thing, as I am now, that wonders to hear thee speak of Naples. He dishear me, and that he does I weep. Myself am Naples, who with mine eyes never since at Ebb beheld the king my father wrecked. A lack for mercy. Yes, faith, and all his lords, the Duke of Milan and his son being twain. Aside, the Duke of Milan and his more braver daughter could control thee if now it were fit to do it. At the first sight they have changed eyes. Delicate aerial, I'll set thee free for this. To Ferdinand. A word, good sir, I fear you have done yourself some wrong. A word. Why speaks my father so one gently? This is the third man that ere I saw, the first that ere I sighed for. Pity move my father to be inclined my way. Oh, if a virgin and your affection not gone forth, I'll make you the queen of Naples. 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. Too Ferdinand. One word more. I charge thee that thou attend me. Thou dost hear usurp the name thou o'est not, and hast put thyself upon this island as a spy, to win it from me, the Lord on it. Know as I am a man. 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 it. Follow me. Speak not you for him, he's a traitor. Come, I'll manacle thy neck and feet together, see what her shalt thou drink. Thy food shall be the fresh brook muscles, withered roots and husks wherein the acorn cradled. Follow. I will resist such entertainment till my enemy has more power. Draws and is charmed from moving. Oh, dear father, make not too rash a trial of him, for he's gentle and not fearful. What I say, my foot, my tutor? Put thy sword up, traitor, who makest a show but darest not strike, thy conscience is so possessed with guilt. Come from thy ward, for I can hear disarm thee with this stick and make thy weapon drop. Beseech you, father. Hence hang not on my garments. Sir, have pity, I'll be his surety. Silence, one word more shall make me chide thee if not hate thee. What, an advocate for an imposter? Hush! Thou thinkest there is no more such shapes as he, having seen but him and Caliban. Foolish wench! To the most of men this is the Caliban, and they to him are angels. My affections are then most humble. I have no ambition to see a goodlier man. Come on, obey. Thy nerves are in their infancy again and have no vigor in them. So they are. My spirits as in a dream are all bound up. My father's lost the weakness which I feel, the wreck 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 of the earth let liberty make use of. Space enough have I in such a prison. Aside, it works. To Ferdinand. Come on. Aside. Thou hast done well, fine Ariel. To Ferdinand. Follow me. To Ariel. Hark what thou else shalt do me. Be of comfort. My father's of a better nature, sir, than he appears by speech. This is unwonted which now came from him. Thou shalt be as free as mountain winds, but then exactly do all points of my command. To the syllable. Come, follow. Speak not for him. Antonio. Gonzalo. Adrian. Francisco. And others. Beseach 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 and millions can speak like us. Then wisely good, sir, weigh our sorrow with our comfort. Pretty peace. He receives comfort like cold porridge. The visitor will not give him all or so. Look, he's winding up the watch of his wit. Buy and buy it will strike. Sir. One. Tell. When every grief is entertained that's offered, comes to the entertainer. A dollar. Dolor comes to him indeed. You have spoken truer than you purposed. You have taken it wisely, then I meant you should. Therefore, my lord. Fine, what a spendthrift is he of his tongue. I prithee, spare. Well, I have done. But yet. He will be talking. Which of he or Adrien for a good wager first begins to crawl. The old cock. The cockerel. Done. The wager. A laughter. A match. Though this island seemed to be desert. Ha ha ha, so you're paid. Uninhabitable and almost inaccessible. Yet. Yet. He could not mist. It must needs be of subtle, tender and delicate temperance. Temperance was a delicate wench. I in a subtle, as he must learnedly delivered. The air breeze upon us here most sweetly. As if it had lungs and rotten ones. Or as to a perfume by a fed. Here is everything advantageous to life. True, serve means to live. Of that there's none or little. How lush and lusty the grass looks. How green. The ground indeed is tawny. With an eye of green in it. He misses not much. No, he doth but mistake the truth totally. But the rarity of it is, which is indeed almost beyond credit. As many vouched rarities are. That our garments, being as they were drenched in the sea, hold not withstanding their freshness and glosses, being rather new dyed than stained with salt water. If but one of his pockets could speak, would it not say he lies? I, a very falsely poggered up his report. Me thinks our garments are now as fresh as when we put them on first in Africa, at the marriage of the king's fair daughter, Clarabel, to the king of Tunis. Twas a sweet marriage, and we prosper well in our returns. Tunis was never graced before with such a paragon to their queen. Not since widow Dido's time. Widow? Apox of that. How came that widow in? Widow Dido. What if he had said widow Aenus, too? Good Lord, how you take it. Widow Dido, say you? You make me study of that. She was of Carthage, not of Tunis. This Tunis, sir, was Carthage. Carthage? I assure you, Carthage. His word is more than a miraculous harp. He hath raised the wall in houses, too. What impossible matter will he make easy next? I think he will carry this island home in his pocket, and give it his son for an apple. And, sowing the kernels of it in the sea, bring forth more islands. Die. Why, in good time. Sir, we were talking that our garments seemed now as fresh as when we were at Tunis at the marriage of your daughter, who is now queen. And the rarest that air came there. Bate, I beseech you, widow Dido. Oh, widow Dido. Aye, widow Dido. Is not, sir, my doublet as fresh as the first day I wore it. I mean, in a sort. That sort was well fished for. When I wore it at your daughter's marriage. You crammed these words into mine ears against the stomach of my sense. Wood that I had never married my daughter there. For, coming thence, my 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 air of Naples and of Millen. What strange fish hath made his meal on thee. Sir, he may live. I saw him beat the surges under him, and right upon their backs he trod the water. Whose enmity he flung aside and breasted the surge, most swole that met him. His bold head, above the contentious waves he kept, and oared himself with his good arms in lusty stroke to the shore that o'er his wave-worn basis bowed. As stooping to relieve him, I not doubt he came alive to land. No, no, he's gone. Sir, you may thank yourself for this great loss that would not bless our Europe with your daughter, but rather lose her to an African, where she at least is banished from your eye, who hath caused to wet the grief on it. Pretty peace! You were kneeled to and importuned otherwise by all of us, and the first soul herself, weighed between loathness and obedience, at which end of the beam should bow. We have lost your son. I fear for ever. Milan and Naples have more widows in them of this business making, than we bring men to comfort them, the faults your own. So is the dearest of the loss. 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. Very well, most originally. It is foul weather in us all, good sir, when you are cloudy. Foul weather? Very foul. Had I plantation of this aisle, my Lord? He'd sort with nettle seed, or ducks or mallows. And were the king on it? What would I do? Escape being drunk for a waltz of wine. In the commonwealth I would, by contraries, execute 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, born, bound of land, tilth, vineyard, none. No use of metal, corn, or wine, or oil. No occupation, all men, idle, all. And women too, but innocent and pure. No sovereignty. Yet he would be king on it. The latter end of his commonwealth forgets the beginning. All things in common nature should produce without sweat or endeavor. Treason, felony, sword, pike, knife, gun, or need of any engine would I not have. But nature should bring forth of its own kind all foison, all abundance to feed my innocent people. No marrying among his subjects. Non-man, all idle, whores and nerves. I would with such perfection govern, sir, to excel the golden age. Save his majesty. Long live Gonzalo. And do you mark me, sir? Prithee no more, thou dost talk nothing to me. 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 used to laugh at nothing. It was you we laughed at. Who, in this kind of merry fooling, am nothing to you? So you may continue and laugh at nothing still. What a blow was there given, and it had not fallen flat long. You are gentlemen of brave metal. You would lift the moon out of her sphere, if she would continue in it five weeks without changing. Enter aerial, invisible, playing solemn music. We would so, and then go aback fouling. Nay, good my lord, be not angry. No, I warrant you. I will not adventure my discretion so weakly. Will you laugh me asleep, for I am very heavy. Go sleep, and hear us. All sleep, except Alonso, Sebastian, and Antonio. What, all so soon asleep? I wish mine eyes would, with themselves, shut up my thoughts. I find they are inclined to do so. Please you, sir, do not omit the heavy offer of it. It seldom visits sorrow. When it doth, it is a comforter. We too, my lord, will guard your person while you take your rest, and watch your safety. Thank you, wondrous heavy. Alonso sleeps, exit aerial. What a strange drowsiness possesses them. It is the quality of the climate. Why doth it not then our eyelids sink? I find not myself disposed to sleep. Nor I. My spirits are nimble. They fell together all as by consent. They dropped as by a thunder-stroke. What might, were they, Sebastian? Oh, what might? No more. And yet me thinks I see it in thy face. What thou shouldst be? The occasion speaks thee. And my strong imagination sees a crown dropping upon thy head. What, are they waking? Do you not hear me speak? I do, and surely it is a sleepy language, and thou speaks out of thy sleep. What is it thou did say? This is a strange repose to be asleep, with eyes wide open, standing, speaking, moving, and yet so fast asleep. Noble Sebastian, thou letst thy fortune sleep, die rather, winked whilst thou art working. Thou dost snore distinctly, there's meaning in thy snores. I am more serious than my custom. You must be so too, if heed me, which to do trebles thee oar. Well, I am standing water. I'll teach you how to flow. So to ebb hereditary sloth instructs me. Oh, if you but knew how you the purpose cherish whilst thus you mock it. How in stripping it you more invest it. Ebbing men indeed most often do so near the bottom run, by their own fear or sloth. Prithee, say on, the setting of thine eye and cheek proclaim a matter from thee, and a birth indeed which throws thee much to yield. Thus, sir. Although this lord of weak remembrance, this, who shall be of as little memory when he is earthed, hath here almost persuaded. For he's a spirit of persuasion, only professes to persuade. The king, his son's alive. It is as impossible that he's undrowned, as he that sleeps here swims. I have no hope that he's undrowned. O, out of that, no hope. What great hope have you? No hope that way is another way so higher hope that even ambition cannot pierce a wink beyond, but doubt discovery there. Will you grant with me that Ferdinand is drowned? He's gone. Then tell me, who's the next heir of Naples? Clarimel. 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 of the moon's too slow, till newborn chins be rough and razorable. She that from whom we all were sea swallowed, though some cast again, and by that destiny, to perform an act whereof what's past his prologue, what to come in yours and my discharge. What stuff is this? How say you? It is true, my brother's daughter's queen of Tunis, so she is heir of Naples. Twix with Regions, there is some space. A space whose every cubit seems to cry out, how shall that Clarimel measure us back to Naples? Keep in Tunis and let Sebastian wake. Say, this were death that now hath seized them. Why, there were no worse than now they are. There be that can rule Naples as well as he that sleeps. Lords that can pray it as amply and unnecessarily as this Gonzalo, I myself could make a chuff of his deep chat. Oh, that you bore the mind that I do. What a sleep were this for your advancement. Do you understand me? Me thinks I do. And how does your content tender your own good fortune? I remember you did supplant your brother Prospero. True. And look how well my garments sit upon me. Much feeder than before. My brother's servants were then my fellows. Now they are my men. But for your conscience. Aye, sir, where lies that? If it were a coyote would put me to my slipper. But I feel not this deity in my bosom. Twenty consciences that stand Twix, me and Milan, candid be they, and melt ere they are molest. Here lies your brother. No 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 for ever. While you, doing thus to the perpetual wink for I might put this ancient morsel, this suprudence, who should not up-braid our course. For all the rest they'll take suggestion as a catlap's milk. They'll tell the clop to any business that we save if it's the hour. Thy case, dear friend, shall be my precedent. As thou got'st me long, 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. Draw together. When I rear my hand, do you the like to fall it on God's arlo? Oh, but one word! They talk apart. Reinter aerial, invisible. 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, open-eyed conspiracy his time doth take. If of life you keep a care, shake off slumber and beware. Awake! Awake! Then let us both be sudden. Now, good angels, preserve the king! They wake. Why, how now? Awake! Why, you drawn? Wherefore this ghastly looking? What's the matter? While we stood here securing your repose, even now we heard a hollow burst of bellowing, like bulls or rather lions. Did not wake you. It struck my ear most terribly. I heard nothing. Oh, towards a din to fright a monster's ear, to make an earthquake. Sure it was the roar of a whole herd of lions. Heard you this, Gonzalo? Upon my honour, sir, I heard a humming, and that a strange one, too, which did awake me. I shaked you, sir, and cried as my eyes opened, I saw their weapons drawn. There was a noise, that's verily. To best we stand upon our guard, or that we quit this place, let's draw our weapons. Lead off this ground, and let's make further search for my poor son. Heavens keep him from these beasts, for he is sure in the island. Lead away! Prosper my lord shall know what I have done. So, king, go safely on to seek thy son. Excellent. Scene two, another part of the island. Enter Caliban, with a burden of wood. A noise of thunder heard. All the infections that the sun sucks up from bogs, fence, flats on prosper fall, and making my inch meal a disease. His spirits hear me, and yet I need must curse. But they'll know a pinch, fright me with urchin in shores, pitch me in the mire, nor leave me like a firebrand in the dark out of my way, unless he bid them. But for every trifle are they set upon me. Sometime like apes that mow and chatter at me, and after bite me. Then like hedgehogs, which lie tumbling in my barefoot way, and mount their pricks at my footfall. Sometime am I all-wound with others, who with cloven tongs do hiss me into madness. Enter Trinculo. Lo now, lo, here comes the spirit of his, and to torment me for bringing wood in slowly. I'll fall flat, but chance he will not mind me. Here's neither bush nor shrub to bear off any weather at all, and another storm brewing. I hear it sing in the wind. Yon same black cloud, yon huge one, looks like a foul bombard that would shed his liquor. If it should thunder as it did before, I know not where to hide my head. Yon same cloud cannot choose before by pale fools. What have we here? A man or a fish? Dead or alive? A fish. Smells like a fish? A very ancient and fish-like smell? A kind of not of the newest poor John. A strange fish? Were I in England now, as once I was, and had but this fish painted? Not a holiday fool there, but would give a piece of silver? There would this monster make a man? Any strange beast there makes a man? When they will not give a doigt to relieve a lame beggar, they will lay out ten to see a dead Indian. Lake like a man, and his fins like arms, warm on my truth. I do now let loose my opinion, hold it no longer. This is no fish, but an islander, death lately suffered by a thunderbolt. Thunder, alas, the storm has come again. My best way is to creep under his gabardine. There is no other shelter here about. A misery acquaintce, a man with strange bedfellows. I will hear shroud till the dregs of the storm be passed. Enter Stefano, singing, a bottle in his hand. I shall no more to see to see, here shall I die ashore. This is a very scurvy tune to sing at a man's funeral. Well, here's my comfort. Drinks Sings The master, the swabber, the bosin and I, the gunner and his mate, loved Mal, Meg, and Marion, and Marjorie, but none of us cared for Kate. For she had a tongue with a tang, would cry to a sailor go hang. She loved not the savor of tar nor of pitch, yet a tailor might scratch her where ere she did itch, then to see boys and let her go hang. This is a scurvy tune too, but here's my comfort. Drinks They don't torment me. Oh. What's the matter? Have we devils here? Do you put tricks upon with savages and men of ind? I have not escaped drowning to be afeard now of your four legs, for it hath been said as proper a man as ever went on four legs cannot make him give ground, and it shall be said so again, while Stefano breathes at's nostrils. The spirit torments me. Oh. This is some monster of the isle with four legs, who hath got, as I take it, an egg you. Where the devil should he learn our language? I will give him some relief, if it be but for that. If I can recover him and keep him tame and get to Naples with him, he's a present for any emperor that ever trod on Neath's leather. Do not torment me, Prithee. I'll bring my wood home faster. He's in his fit now, and does not talk after the wisest. He shall taste of my bottle. If he hath never drunk wine for it will go near to remove his fit. If I can recover him and keep him tame, I will not take too much for him. He shall pay for him that hath him, and that soundly. They dost me yet but little hurt. They wilt anon, I know it by their trembling. No prosper works upon thee. Come on your ways. Open your mouth. Here is that which will give language to you, cat. Open your mouth. This will shake your shaking, I can tell you, and that soundly. You cannot tell who's your friend. Open your chaps again. I should know that voice. It should be, but he is drowned. And these are devils. O defend me. Four legs and two voices. A most delicate monster. His forward voice now is to speak well of his friend. His backward voice is to utter foul speeches and to detract. If all the wine in my bottle will recover him, I will help his ague. Come, amen. I will pour some in thy other mouth. Sterfano! Doth thy other mouth call me. Mercy, mercy, this is a devil and no monster. I will leave him. I have no long spoon. Sterfano! If thou beest Sterfano, touch me and speak to me. For I am trinkulo. Be not afraid. Thy good friend trinkulo. If thou beest trinkulo, come forth. I'll pull thee by the lesser legs. If any be trinkulo's legs, these are they. Thou art very trinkulo indeed. How earnest thou to be the siege of this moon-calf? Can he vent trinkulo's? I took him to be killed with a thunder-stroke. But art thou not drowned, Sterfano? I hope now that art not drowned. Is the storm overblown? I head me under the dead moon-calf's gabadine for fear of the storm. And art thou living, Sterfano? Oh, Sterfano, to Neapolitan escaped! Prithee, do not turn me about. My stomach is not constant. Assigned. These be fine things. And if they be not sprites? That's a brave god. A bare celestial liquor. I will kneel to him. How did thou escape? How cameest thou hither? Swear by this bottle how thou cameest hither? I escaped upon a bud of sack, which the sailors heaved or bored by this bottle, which I made of the bark of a tree with mine own hands since I was cast ashore. I'll swear upon that bottle to be thy true subject, for the liquor is not earthly. Here, swear, then, how thou escaped. Swear I'm a shoreman like a duck. I can swim like a duck, I'll be sworn. Here, kiss the book. Though thou can't swim like a duck, thou art made like a goose. Oh, Sterfano, haste any more of this. The whole bot, man. My cellar is in a rock by the seaside where my wine is hid. How now, moon-calf, how does thine egg you? Hast thou not dropped from heaven? Out of the moon I do assure thee, I was the man in the moon when time was. I have seen thee in her, and I do adore thee. My mistress showed me thee, and thy dog, and thy bush. Come, swear to that. Kiss the book. I will furnish it anon with new contents. Swear. By this good light this is a very shallow monster. I have feared of him. A very weak monster. The man in the moon. A most poor, credulous monster. Well-drawn monster in good soothe. I'll show thee every fertile inch at thy land. And I will kiss thy foot. I pray thee be my god. By this light a most perfidious and drunken monster. One's god's asleep will rob his bottle. I'll kiss thy foot. I'll swear myself that I subject. Come on then, down and swear. I shall laugh myself to death at this puppy-headed monster. A most scurvy monster. I could find it in my heart to beat him. Come, kiss. But that the poor monster's in drink. An abominable monster. I'll show thee the best springs. I'll pluck thee berries. I'll fish for thee, and get thee wood enough. I'll plague upon the tyrant that I serve. I'll bear him no more sticks. But follow thee, thou wondrous man. A most ridiculous monster. To make a wonder of a poor drunkard. I pray thee, let me bring thee where crabs grow. And I with my long nails will dig thee pig-nuts. Sure thee a jazz nest. And instruct thee how to snare the nimble marmoset. I'll bring thee to clustering filbots. And sometimes I'll get thee young scammels from the rock. Well, don't go with me. I, for thee now, lead the way without any more talking. Trinkulo, the king, and all our company else being drowned, we will inherit here. Here, bear my bottle. Fellow Trinkulo, we'll fill him by and by again. Caliban sings drunkenly. Farewell, monster. Farewell, farewell. A howling monster. A drunken monster. No more dams I'll make for fish. No fetching, firing, at requiring. No scrap trencher, nor wash dish. Ban, ban, cacaliban. Has a new master. Get a new man. Freedom. Hey-day, hey-day. Freedom. Freedom. Hey-day, freedom. Oh, brave monster. Lead the way. Excellent. End of Act 2, Act 3, The Tempest, by William Shakespeare. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. The Tempest, Act 3, Scene 1, Before Prospero's Cell. Enter Ferdinand, burying a log. There be some sports are painful and their labor delight in them sets off. Some kinds of baseness are nobly undergone and most poor matters point to rich ends. This, my mean task, would be as heavy to me as odious, but the mistress which I serve quickens what's dead and makes my labor's pleasures. Oh, she is ten times more gentle than her father's crabbed and he's composed of harshness. I must remove some thousands of these logs and pile them up upon a sore injunction. My sweet mistress weeps when she sees me work and says such baseness had never like executor. I forget. But these sweet thoughts do refresh my labor's most busy least when I do it. Enter Miranda and Prospero at a distance unseen. Alas, now pray you work not so hard. I would the lightning had burnt up those logs that you are enjoying to pile. Pray set it down and rest you when this burn'st will weep for having wearied you. My father is hard at study. Pray now rest yourself. He's safe for these three hours. Almost, dear mistress, the sun will set before I shall discharge what I must strive to do. If you'll sit down, I'll bear your logs the while. Pray give me that, I'll carry it to the pile. No, precious creature, I had rather crack my sinews break my back than you should such dishonour undergo while I sit lazy by. It would become me as well as it does you, and I should do it with much more ease, for my good will is to it and yours it is against. Poor worm, thou art infected. This visitation shows it. You look wearily. No, noble mistress, tis fresh morning with me when you are by at night. I do beseech you, chiefly that I might set it in my prayers. What is your name? Miranda. Oh, my father, I have broke your haste to say so. Admired, Miranda, indeed the top of admiration, worth what's dearest to the world. For many a lady I have eyed with best regard, and many a time the harmony of their tongues hath into bondage brought my too diligent ear. For several virtues have I liked several women. Never any was so full soul, but some defect, and her did quarrel with the noblest grace she owed and put it to the foil. But you, oh you so perfect and so pureless, are created of every creature's best. I do not know one of my sex, no woman's face, remember, save from my glass, my known. Nor have I seen more that I may call men than you, good friend, and my dear father, how features are abroad I am skillless of. But by my modesty, the jewel in my dower, I would not wish any companion in the world but you, nor can imagination form a shape besides yourself to like of. But I prattle something too wildly, and my father's precepts I therein do forget. I am in my condition a prince, Miranda, I do think a king, I would not so. And would no more endure this wooden slavery than to offer the flesh fly blow my mouth. Hear my soul speak, the very instant that I saw you did my heart fly to your service. There resides to make me slave to it, and for your sake am I this patient logman. Do you love me? Oh heaven, oh earth, bear witness to this sound and crown what I profess with kind event if I speak true. If hollowly invert what best is boded me to mischief. I beyond all limit what else in the world do love, prize, honor you. I am a fool to weep it what I am glad of. Fair encounter of two most rare affections, heavens reign grace on that which breeds between them. Wherefore weep you? At mine unworthiness, that dare not offer what I desire to give, and much less take what I shall die to want. But this is trifling, and all the more it seeks to hide itself the bigger bulk it shows. Hence bashful cunning, and prompt me plain and holy innocence. I am your wife, if you will marry me. If not I'll die your maid, to be your fellow you may deny me, but I'll be your servant whether you will or know. My mistress, dearest, and I thus humble ever. My husband then. I, with a heart as willing as bondage air of freedom. Here's my hand. And mine, with my heart ent. And now farewell till half an hour hence. A thousand thousand! Excellent Ferdinand and Miranda, severally. So glad of this as they I cannot be who are surprised with all, but my rejoicing at nothing can be more. I'll to my book, for yet air suppertime must I perform much business appertaining. Exit. Seen to another part of the island. Enter Caliban, Stefano, and Trinculo. Tell not me. When the butt is out we will drink water, not a drop before. Therefore bear up and boredom. Servant monster, drink to me. Servant monster, the folly of this island. They say there's but five upon this isle, we are three of them. If the other two be brain like us, the state totters. Drink, servant monster, when I bid thee, thy eyes are almost set in thy head. Where should they be set else? He were a brave monster indeed, if they were set in his tail. My man monster hath drowned his tongue in sack. For my part the sea cannot drown me. I swam ere I could recover the shore, five and thirty leagues off and on. By this light thou shalt be my lieutenant monster or my standard. Your lieutenant if you list, he's no standard. We'll not run, mature monster. Nor code neither, but you'll lie like dogs and yet say nothing neither. Mooncaf, speak once in thy life if thou beest a good mooncaf. How does thy honour? Let me lick thy shoe. I'll not serve him, he is not valiant. Thou liest most ignorant monster. I am in case to jostle a constable. Why thou debauched fished thou. Was there ever a man, a coward, that hath drunk so much sack as I today? Will thou tell a monstrous lie, being but half a fish and half a monster? Lord, how he mocks me. Will thou let in my lord? Lord, quoth he, that a monster should be such a natural. Oh, low again. Bite him to death, I prithee. Trinkulo, keep a good tongue in your head. If you prove a mutineer, the next tree. The poor monster's my subject, and he shall not suffer indignity. I thank my noble lord. Will thou be pleased to harken once again to the suit I made to thee? Mary will I. Kneel and repeat it. I will stand, and so shall Trinkulo. Enter Ariel, invisible. As I told thee before, I am subject to a tyrant, a sorcerer, that by his cunning hath cheated me of the island. Thou liest. Thou liest, thou jesting monkey, thou? I would my valiant master would destroy thee. I do not lie. Trinkulo, if you trouble him any more in's tale by this hand, I will supplant some of your teeth. Wait, I said nothing. Mum, then, and no more. Proceed. I said by sorcery he got this isle. From me he got it. If thy greatness will revenge it on him, for I know thou darest, but this thing dare not. That's most certain. Thou shalt be lord of it, and I'll serve thee. How now shall this be compassed? Can't thou bring me to the party? Yea, yea, my lord, I'll yield him thee asleep, where thou mayst knock a nail into his head. Thou liest, thou canst not. What a pide-nin' is this? Thou scurvy patch! I do beseech thy greatness, give him blows, and take his bottle from him. When that's gone, he shall drink naught but brine, for I'll not show him where the quick-freshes are. Trinkulo, run into no further danger. Interrupt the monster one word further, and by this hand I'll turn my mercy out of doors and make a stock fish of thee. Why, what, I did nothing. I'll go farther off. Didst thou not say he lied? Thou liest. Do I so take thou that? Beets him. As you like this, give me the lie another time. I did not give the lie out of your wits and hearing too. A pox of your bottle, this cansack and drinking dew, a moraine on your monster, and the devil take your fingers. Ha ha ha ha! Now forward with your tail. Prithee, stand farther off. Beat him enough. After a little time I'll beat him too. Stand farther, come proceed. Why, as I told thee, it is accustomed with him ith afternoon to sleep. There thou must brine him, having first seized his books, or with a log bat his skull, or paunch him with a stake, or cut his weasened with thy knife. Remember first to possess his books, for without them he's but a sot, as I am, nor hath not one spirit to command. They all do hate him as rootedly as I. Burn but his books. He has brave utensils, for so he calls them, which when he has a house he'll deck with all. And that most deeply to consider is the beauty of his daughter. He himself calls her a non-parai. I never saw a woman, but only Sycorax my dam and she, but she is far surpasseth Sycorax as greatest does least. Is it so brave alas? Ay, Lord, she will become thy bed, I warrant, and bring thee forth brave brood. Monster, I will kill this man. His daughter and I will be king and queen, save our graces, and Trinkulo and thyself shall be vice-broys. Thus thou like the plot, Trinkulo? Excellent. Give me thy hand. I am sorry I beat thee, but while thou livest, keep a good tongue in thy head. Within this half hour will he be asleep. Will thou destroy him then? Aye, on mine honour. This will I tell my master. Thou makest me merry. I am full of pleasure. Let us be jockoned. Will you troll the catch, you taught me, but while there? At thy request, monster, I will do reason any reason. Come on, Trinkulo, let us sing. Sing's. Flout'em and scout'em and scout'em and flout'em. Thought is free. That's not the truth. Ariel plays the tune on a taber and pipe. What is this same? This is the tune of our catch, by the picture of nobody. If thou beest a man, show thyself in thy likeness. If thou beest a devil, take it as thou list. Oh, forgive me of my sins. He that dies pays all debts. I defy thee. Mercy upon us. What thou have feared? No, monster, not I. Be not afraid. The isle is full of noises, sounds and sweet airs that give delight and hurt not. Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments will hum about my ears and sometimes voices that if I then had waked after long sleep will make me sleep again. And then, in dreaming, the clothes me thought would open and show riches ready to drop upon me that when I waked I cried to dream again. This will prove a brave kingdom to me where I shall have my music for nothing. When Prospero is destroyed. That shall be by and by. I remember the story. The sound is going away. Let's follow it, and after do our work. Lead, monster, we'll follow. I would I could see this Taborer. He lays it on. We'll come. I'll follow Stefano. Exit. Scene three. Another part of the island. Enter Alonso, Sebastian, Antonio, Gonzalo, Adrian, Francisco, and others. By our lack and I can go no further, sir. My old bones ache. Here's a maze trod indeed through forth rites and meanders. By your patience I need must rest me. Oh, Lord, I cannot blame thee. Who am myself attached with weariness to the dulling of my spirits. Sit down and rest. Even here I will put off my hope and keep it no longer for my flatterer. He is drowned whom thus we stray to find. And the sea mocks our frustrate search on land. Well, let him go. Aside to Sebastian. I am right glad that he's so out of hope. Do not for one repulse forgo the purpose that you resolve to effect. Aside to Antonio. The next advantage we will take it throughly. Aside to Sebastian. Let it be to night. For now they are oppressed with travel. They will not nor cannot use such vigilance as when they are fresh. Aside to Antonio. I say to night no more. Solemn and strange music. What harmony is this? Good friends, hark! Marvelous sweet music. Enter Prospero above, invisible. Enter several strange shapes, bringing in a banquet. They dance about it with gentle actions of salutation. And inviting the king, etc., to eat. They depart. Give us kind keepers, heavens! What were these? A living deraillery. They said there are unicorns. That in Arabia there is one tree, the phoenix throne. One phoenix at this hour reigning there. I'll believe both. And what does else want credit come to me and I'll be sworn to his true? Travellers ne'er did lie. The fools at home condemn them. If in Naples I should report this now would they believe me? If I should say I saw such islanders. For certies these are people of the island. Who though they are of monstrous shape, yet note their manners are more gentle kind than of our human generation you shall find many. Nay, almost any. Aside, honest lord thou hast said well for some of you their present are worse than devils. I cannot too much muse such shape, such gesture and such sound expressing, although they want, the use of tongue a kind of excellent dumb discourse. Aside, praise in departing. They vanished, strangely. No matter, since they have left their vines behind for we have stomachs. Would please you taste of what is here? Not I. Faith, sir, you need not fear. When we were boys who would believe that there were mountaineers do lapped like bulls whose throats had hanging Adam wallets of flesh or that there were such men whose head stood in their breasts which now we find each putter out of five for one will bring us good warrant of. I will stand to and feed, although my last, no matter, since I feel the best is past. Brother, my lord the duke, stand to and do as we. Thunder and lightning enter aerial like a harpy, claps his wings upon the table, and with a quaint device the banquet vanishes. You are three men of sin whom destiny that have to instrument this lower world and what is in it, the never-surfated sea hath caused to belch up you, and on this island where man doth not inhabit you amongst men being most unfit to live. I have made you mad, and even with such like valour men hang and drown their proper selves. Alonzo, Sebastian, et cetera draw their swords. You fools, I and my fellows are ministers of fate. The elements of whom your swords are tempered may as well wound the loud winds, or with be mocked at stabs killed the still-closing waters as diminish one dowel that's in my plume. My fellow ministers are like invulnerable. If you could hurt, your swords are now too massy for your strengths and will not be uplifted. But remember, for that's my business to you, that you three from Milan did supplant good Prospero, exposed unto the sea which hath requited him and his innocent child, for which foul deed the powers delaying, not forgetting, have incensed the seas and shores, yea, all the creatures against your peace. Thee of thy son Alonzo, they hath bereft, and do pronounce by me lingering perdition worse than any death can be at once, shall step by step attend you and your ways, whose wrath's to guard you from, which here in this most desolate isle else falls upon your heads, is nothing but heart-sorrow and a clear life ensuing. He vanishes in thunder, then to soft music, enter the shapes again and dance, with mocks and mouths, and carrying out the table. Bravely the figure of this harpy hast thou performed my aerial, a grace it hath devouring. Of my instruction hast thou nothing baited in what thou hadst to say. So, with good life and observation strange, my meaner ministers there several kinds have done. My high charms work, and these mine enemies are all knit up in their distractions. They now are in my power. And in these fits I leave them, while I visit young Ferdinand, whom they suppose is drowned, and his and mine loved darling. Exit above. In the name of something holy, sir, why stand you in this strange stare? Oh, it is monstrous, monstrous! Me thought the billows spoke, and told me of it. The winds did sing it to me, and the thunder, that deep and dreadful organ pipe, pronounced the name of Prosper. It did base my trespass. Therefore my son in Luz is bedded, and I'll seek him deeper than air plummet-sounded, and with him there lie mudded. Exit. But one fiend at a time. I'll fight their legions oar. I'll be thy second. Exuant Sebastian and Antonio. All three of them are desperate. Their great guilt-like poison, given to work a great time after, now begins to bite the spirits. I do beseech you, that are of suppler joints, follow them swiftly, and hinder them from what this ecstasy may now provoke them to. Follow, I pray you. End of Act Three. Act Four. The Tempest. By William Shakespeare. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information, or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. The Tempest. Act Four. Scene One. Before Prospero's cell. Enter Prospero, Ferdinand, and Miranda. If I have too austerely punished you, your compensation makes amends, for I have given you here a third of my own life, or that for which I live, who once again I tender to thy hand. All thy vexations were but trials of thy love, and thou hast strangely stood the test. Here, afore heaven, I ratify this my rich gift. O Ferdinand, do not smile at me that I boast her off, for thou shalt find she will outstrip all praise and make it halt behind her. I do believe it against an oracle. Then, as my gift and thine own acquisition worthily purchased, take my daughter. But if thou dost break her virgin knot before all sanctimonious ceremonies may with full and holy rite be ministered, no sweet aspersion shall the heavens let fall to make this contract grow. But barren hate, sourite, disdain, and discord shall bestrew the union of your bed with weeds so lowthly that you shall hate it both. Therefore take heed, as Hyman's lamps shall light you. As I hope for quiet days, fair issue, and long life, with such love as tis now, the murkiest den, the most opportune place, the strongest suggestion in our worser genius can, shall never melt mine honour into lust, to take away the edge of that day's celebration, when I shall think, or Phoebus' steeds are foundered, or night kept chained below. Fairly spoke. Sit, then, and talk with her. She is thine own. What aerial? My industrious servant aerial. Inter aerial. What would my potent master, here I am? Thou and thy meaner fellows your last service did worthily perform, and I must use you in such another trick. Go bring the rabble, or whom I give thee power, here to this place. Insight them to quick motion, for I must bestow upon the eyes of this young couple some vanity of mine art. It is my promise, and they expect it from me. Presently? Aye, with a twink. Before you can say, come and go, and breathe twice, and cry so-so, each one tripping on his toe will be here with mop and mow. Do you love me, master, no? Dearly, my delicate aerial, do not approach till thou dost hear me call. Well, I conceive. Exit aerial. Look thou be true. Do not give dalliance too much the rain. The strongest oaths are straw to the fire in the blood. Be more obstemious, or else good night your vow. I warrant you, sir. The white, cold, virgin snow upon my heart abates the ardour of my liver. Well, now come, my aerial, bring a corollary rather than want a spirit appear hand-purtly. No tongue, all eyes, be silent. Soft music. Enter Iris. Series most bounteous lady, thy rich lees of wheat, rye, barley, veggies, oats, and peas, thy turfy mountains where live nibbling sheep, and flat meads that twist over them to keep, thy banks with pined and twilled brims, which spongy April at thy best betrims, to make cold nymphs, chased crowns, and thy broom-groves, whose shadow the dismissed bachelor loves, being last-lorn, thy pole-clipped vineyard, and thy sea-marge sterile and rocky hard, where thou thyself dost air the queen of the sky, whose watery arch and messenger am I. Bids thee leave these, and with her sovereign grace, here on this grass-plot in this very place, to come and sport her peacocks fly amane, approach rich series her to entertain. Enter Series. Hail, many-colored messenger, that nair dost disobey the wife of Jupiter, who with thy saffron wings upon my flowers diffuses honey-drops, refreshing showers, and with each end of thy blue bow dost crown my bosky acres and my un-trubbed down. Rich scarf to my proud earth, why hath thy queen summoned me hither to this short grass-screen? A contract of true love to celebrate and some donation freely to estate on the blessed lovers. Tell me, if Venus or her son, as thou dost know, do now attend the queen. Since they did plot the means that dusky dis my daughter got, her and her blind boy's scandaled company I have foresworn. Of her society be not afraid. I met her deity, cutting the clouds toward Paphos, and her son, dove drawn with her, her thought they too have done, some wanton charm upon this man and maid, whose vows are that no bed-right shall be paid, till hymen's torch be lighted. But in vain, Mars-hot minion is returned again. Her waspish-headed son has broke his arrows, swears he will shoot no more, but play with sparrows and be a boy right out. High-screen of state, great Juno comes. I know her by her gate. Enter Juno. How does my bounteous sister go with me to bless this twain, that they may prosperous be and honoured in their issue? They sing. Honor riches, marriage blessing, long continuance and increasing hourly joys be still upon you. Juno sings her blessings on you. Earths increase, foils implanted, barns and garners never empty, vines and clustering branches growing, plants with goodly birthing bowing. Spring come to you at the farthest, in the very end of harvest. Scarcity and watch shall shun you. Ceres blessing so is on you. This is a most majestic vision and harmonious charmingly. May I be bold to think these spirits? Spirits, which by mine art I have from their confines called to enact my present fancies. Let me live here ever. So rare a wondered father and a wife makes this place paradise. Juno and Ceres whisper and send Iris on employment. Sweet now silence. Juno and Ceres whisper seriously. There's something else to do. Hush and be mute or else our spell is marred. You nymphs call niads of the wind-wringed brooks with your sedged, crowns-and-ever harmless looks. Leave your crisp channels and on this green land. Answer your summons. Juno does command. Come, temperate nymphs, and help to celebrate a contract of true love. Be not too late. Enter certain nymphs. Use sunburned sicklemen of August weary. Come hither from the furrow and be merry. Make holiday. Your rye straw hats put on. And these fresh nymphs encounter everyone in country footing. Enter certain reapers, properly habited. They join with the nymphs in a graceful dance. Towards the end whereof Prospero starts suddenly and speaks. After which, to a strange, hollow and confused noise, they heavily vanish. I had forgot that foul conspiracy of the beast Caliban and his confederates against my life. A minute of their plot is almost come. To the spirits. Well done. Avoid. No more. This is strange. Your father's in some passion that works him strongly. Never till this day saw I him touched with anger so distempered. You do look, my son, in a movid sort, as if you were dismayed. Be cheerful, sir. Our revels now are ended. These our actors, as I foretold you, were all spirits and are melted into air, into thin air. And, like the baseless fabric of this vision, the cloud-capped towers, the gorgeous palaces, the solemn temples, the great globe itself, yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve. And like this insubstantial pageant faded, leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff as dreams are made on, and our little life is rounded with asleep. Sir, I am vexed. Bear with my weakness. My old brain is troubled. Be not disturbed with my infirmity. If you be pleased, retire into my cell, and there repose. A turn or two I'll walk to still my beating mind. We wish your peace. Excellent. Come with a thought. I thank the aerial. Come. Enter aerial. Thy thoughts I cleave to, what's thy pleasure? Spirit, we must prepare to meet with Caliban. I, my commander, when I presented Ceres, I thought to have told thee of it, but I feared lest I might anger thee. Say again, where didst thou leave these varlots? I told you, sir, they were red-hot with drinking, so full of valour that they smote the air for breathing in their faces, beat the ground for kissing of their feet, yet always bending towards their project. Then I beat my table, at which like unbacked colts they pricked their ears, advanced their eyelids, lifted up their noses as they smelt music. So I charmed their ears that, calf-like, they, my lowing, followed through toothed briars, sharp furses, prickling goss and thorns, which entered their frail shins. At last I left them in the filthy mantled pool beyond your cell, there dancing up to the chins that the foul lake or stunk their feet. This was well done, my bird. Thy shape invisible retain thou still. The trumpery in my house go bring it hither, for stale to catch these thieves. I go, I go. Exit aerial. A devil, a born devil, on whose nature nurture can never stick, on whom my pains, who mainly taken, all, all lost, quite lost, and as with age his body uglier grows, so his mind cankers. I will plague them all, even to roaring. Re-enter aerial. Load in with glistering apparel, et cetera. Come, hang them on this line. Prospero and aerial remain invisible. Enter Caliban, Stefano, and Trinculo, all wet. Pray you tread softly, that the blind mole may not hear a footfall. We now are near his cell. Monster, your fairy, which you say is a harmless fairy, has done little better than played the jack with us. Oh, monster, I do smell all horse piss, at which my nose is in great indignation. So is mine. Do you hear, monster, if I should take a displeasure against you, look you. Thou wert but a lost monster. Good my lord, give me thy favour still. Be patient, for the prize I'll bring thee to shall hoodwink this mischance. Therefore speak softly, all's hushed as midnight yet. Ah, but to lose our bottles in the pool. There is not only disgrace and dishonour in that, monster, but an infinite loss. That's more to me than my wedding. Yet this is your harmless fairy monster. I will fetch off my bottle, though I be o'er ears for my labour. Pretty my king, be quiet. Seize thou here, this is the mouth of the cell. No noise and enter. Do that good mischief, which may make this island thine own forever. And I, thy calliban, for I thy footlicker. Give me thy hand. I do begin to have bloody thoughts. Oh, king Stefano, oh, pier, oh, worthy Stefano, look what a wardrobe here is for thee. Like did a law, though, fool? It is but trash. Oh, oh, monster, we know what belongs to a frippery. Oh, king Stefano. Put off that gown, Trinkulo. By this hand I'll have that gown. Thy grace shall have it. The drops he drowned this fool. What do you mean to dote those on such luggage? Let's alone and do the murder first. If he awake from talk to crown, he'll fill our skins with pinches. Make us strange stuff. Be you quiet, monster. Mistress Lyne is not this my jerkin? Now is the jerkin under the line. Now, jerkin, you are like to lose your hair and prove a bald jerkin. Do, do, we still by Lyne in level, ain't like your grace. I thank thee for that, jest. Here's a garment for it. Wit shall not go unrewarded while I am king of this country. Steel by Lyne in level is an excellent pass of fate. There's another garment for it. Monster, come, put some Lyne upon your fingers and away with the rest. I will have none on't. We shall lose our time and all be turned to barnacles or to apes with foreheads villainous law. Monster, lay to your fingers. Help to bear this away where my hog's head of wine is, or I'll turn you out of my kingdom. Go to carry this. Oh, and this. I and this. A noise of hunters heard. Interdiverse spirits in shape of dogs and hounds and hunt them about, Prospero and Ariel setting them on. Hey, mountain, hey. Silver, there it goes, silver. Fury, fury, they're tyrant. They're hark, hark. Oh, oh, oh. Caliban, Stefano, and Trinkulo are driven out. Go charge my goblins that they grind their joints with dry convulsions, shorten up their sinews with aged cramps, and more pinch-spotted make them than pard or catamountain. Hark, they roar. Let them be hunted soundly. At this hour lie at my mercy all mine enemies. Shortly shall all my labors end, and thou shalt have the air at freedom for a little follow and do me service. End of Act IV. Act V. The Tempest by William Shakespeare This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. The Tempest. Act V. Scene I. Before the cell of Prospero. Enter Prospero in his magic robes and Ariel. Now does my project gather to a head. My charms crack not, my spirits obey, and time goes upright with his carriage. How's the day? On the sixth hour, at which time, my lord, you said our work should cease. I did say so when first I raised the Tempest. Say, my spirit, how fares the king and his followers. Confine together in the same fashion as you gave charge, just as you left them. All prisoners, sir, in the line grove which weather fends your cell, they cannot budge till your release. The king, his brother and yours, abide all three distracted, and the remainder mourning over them, brimful of sorrow and dismay. But chiefly, him that you termed, sir, that good old Lord Gonzalo, his tears run down his beard like winter's drops from eaves of reeds. Your charm so strongly works them, that if you now behold them, your affections would become tender. Does thou think so, spirit? Mine would, sir, were I human. And mine shall. Hasst thou, which art but air, a touch, a feeling of their afflictions, and shall not myself one of their kind, that relish all as sharply passion as they, be kindly removed than thou art? Though with their high wrongs I am struck to the quick, yet with my nobler reason, against my fury, do I take part. The rarer action is in virtue than in vengeance. They, being penitent, the sole drift of my purpose, doth extend not a frown further. Go release them, Ariel. My charms I'll break, their senses I'll restore, and they shall be themselves. I'll fetch them, sir. Ye elves of hills, brooks, standing lakes and groves, and ye that on the sands with printless foot do chase the ebbing Neptune, and do fly him when he comes back. You demmy puppets that by moonshine do the green sour ringlets make, whereof the ewe not bites, and you whose pastime is to make midnight mushrooms that rejoice to hear the solemn curfew. By whose aid, weak masters though ye be, I have bedimmed the noontide sun, called forth the mutinous winds, and twixed the green sea in the azured vault-set roaring war to the dread rattling thunder have I given fire and rifted Jove's stout oak with his own bolt, the strong-based promontory have I made shake, and by the spurs plucked up the pine and cedar, graves at my command have waked their sleepers, oaked, and let them forth by my so potent art. But this rough magic I hear abjure, and when I have required some heavenly music which even now I do to work mine end upon their senses that this airy charm is for, I'll break my staff, bury it certain fathoms in the earth, and deeper than ever plummet sound I'll drown my book. SOLEM MUSIC Re-enter Ariel before, then Alonzo, with a frantic gesture, attended by Gonzalo, Sebastian and Antonio in like manner, attended by Adrian and Francisco. They all enter the circle which Prospero had made, and there stand Charmed, which Prospero, observing, speaks. A solemn air and the best comforter to an unsettled fancy, cure thy brains, now useless, boiled within thy skull. There stand, for you are spell-stopped. Holy Gonzalo, honourable man, mine eyes even sociable to the show of thine fall fellowly drops. The charm dissolves apace, and as the morning steals upon the night, melting the darkness, so their rising senses begin to chase the ignorant fumes that mantle their clearer reason. O good Gonzalo, my true preserver, and a loyal sir to him thou followest, I will pay thy graces home, both in word and deed. Most cruelly didst thou, Alonzo, use me and my daughter. Thy brother was a furtherer in the act, thou art pinched for it now, Sebastian. Flesh and blood, you, brother mine, that entertained ambition, expelled remorse and nature, who, with Sebastian, whose inward pinches therefore are most strong, would here have killed your king. I do forgive thee, unnatural though thou art. Their understanding begins to swell, thy approaching tide will shortly fill the reasonable shore that now lies foul and muddy. Not one of them that yet looks on me or would know me. Ariel, fetch me the hat and rapier in my cell, I will discase me and myself present as I was some time, millen, quickly spirit, thou shalt ere long be free. Ariel sings and helps to attire him. Where the bee sucks, there suck I. In a cow-slip spell I lie, there I couch when owls do cry. On the bat's back I do fly, after summer merrily. Merrily, merrily shall I live now, under the blossom that hangs on the bow. Why, that's my dainty Ariel, I shall miss thee, but yet thou shalt have freedom. So, so, so. To the king's ship, invisible as thou art, there shalt thou find the mariners asleep under the hatches, the master and the bosan being awake and force them to this place and presently, I prithee. I drink the air before me, and return or air your pulse twice-speed. All torment, trouble, wonder, and amazement inhabits here. Some heavenly power guide us out of this fearful country. Behold, sir king, the ronid duke of millen, Prospero. For more assurance that a living prince does now speak to thee, I embrace thy body, and to thee and thy company I bid a hearty welcome. Whether thou beest he or no or some enchanted trifle to abuse me, as late I have been, I not know, thy pulse beats as of flesh and blood, and since I saw thee the affliction of my mind amends, with which I fear a madness held me. This must grave, and if this be at all, a most strange story. Thy duke to my resign and do entreat thou pardon me my wrongs. But how should Prospero be living and be here? First noble friend, let me embrace thine age whose honour cannot be measured or confined. Whether this be or be not, I'll not swear. You do yet taste some subtleties of the Isle that will not let you believe things certain. Welcome, my friends, all, aside to Sebastian and Antonio. But you, my brace of lords, were I so minded, I here could pluck his highness frown upon you and justify you traitors. At this time I will tell no tales. Aside. The devil speaks in him. No. For you, most wicked sir, whom to call brother would even infect my mouth, I do forgive thy rankest fault all of them, and require my dukedom of thee, which perforce I know thou must restore. If thou beest Prospero, give us particulars of thy preservation. How thou hast met us here, who, three hours since, were wrecked upon this shore, where I have lost how sharp the point of this remembrance is. My dear son, Ferdinand. I am woe for it, sir. Irreparable is the loss, and patience says it is past her cure. I rather think you have not sought her help, of whose soft grace for the like loss I have her sovereign aid, and rest myself content. You, the like loss! As great to me as late, and supportable to make the dear loss, have I means much weaker than you may call to comfort you, for I have lost my daughter. A daughter? Oh, heavens, that they were living both in Naples. The king and queen there! That they were, I wish myself, were muddied in that oozy bed where my son lies. When did you lose your daughter? In this last tempest, I perceive these lords at this encounter do so much admire that they devour their reason, and scarce think their eyes do offices of truth their words are natural breath. But how so where you have been jostled from your senses know for certain that I am Prospero, and that very duke which was thrust forth of Millan, who most strangely upon this shore where you were wrecked, was landed to be the lord on it. No more yet of this, for it is a chronicle of day by day, not a relation for a breakfast, nor befitting this first meeting. Welcome, sir, this sells my court. Here have I few attendants, and subjects none abroad. Pray you look in. My dukedom, since you have given me again, I will requite you with as good a thing. At least bring forth a wonder to contention ye as much as me, my dukedom. Here, Prospero discovers Ferdinand and Miranda playing at chess. Sweet lord, you play me false. No, my dearest love, I would not for the world. Yes, for a score of kingdoms you should wrangle, and I would call it fair play. If this prove a vision of the island, one dear son shall I twice lose. A most high miracle. Though the seas threaten they are merciful, I have cursed them without cause. Meals. Now all the blessings of a glad father compass thee about. Arise and say how thou camest here. Oh, wonder, how many goodly creatures are there here. How beautyous mankind is. Oh, brave new world that has such people in it. Tis new to thee. What is this made with whom thou wast at play? For elst acquaintance cannot be three hours. Is she the goddess that hath severed us, and brought us thus together? Sir, she is mortal, but by immortal providence she's mine. I chose her when I could not ask my father for his advice, nor thought I had one. She is daughter to this famous duke of Milan, of whom so often I have heard renown, but never saw before. Of whom I have received a second life, and second father this lady makes him to me. I am hers, but oh, how oddly will it sound that I must ask my child forgiveness. There, sir, stop. Let us not breath in our remembrances with the heaviness that's gone. I have inly wept, or should have spoken ere this. Look down, you gods, and on this couple drop a blessed crown, for it is you that have chalked forth the way which brought us hither. I say amen, Gonzalo. Was Milan thrust from Milan that his issue should become kings of Naples? Oh, rejoice beyond a common joy, and set it down with gold on lasting pillars. In one voyage did Clarabel her husband find it Tunis, and Ferdinand her brother found a wife where he himself was lost. Prospero his duked him in a poor aisle, and all of us ourselves when no man was his own. To Ferdinand and Miranda. Give me your hands. Let grief and sorrow still embrace his heart that doth not wish you joy. Be it so. Amen. Reinter Aerial With the Master and the Boson amazedly following. Oh, look, sir, look, sir. Here is more of us. I prophesied if a gallows were on land this fellow could not drown. Now, blasphemy, that swarist grace or board, not an oath on shore. Hast thou no mouth by land? What is the news? The best news is that we have safely found our king and company. The next are ship. Which but three glasses since we gave out split. His tight and yar and bravely rigged. As when we first put out to sea. Assign to Prospero. Sir, all this service have I done since I went. Assign to Aerial. My tricksy spirit. These are not natural events. They strengthen from strange to stranger. Say, how came you hither? If I didn't think, sir, I'm a well awake. I'd all strive to tell you we were dead of sleep and, how we know not, all clapped under hatches. Where, but even now, was strange in several noises of roaring, shrieking, howling, jingling chains and more diversity of sounds, all horrible. We were awaked, straight way, at liberty. Where we, in all her trim, freshly beheld our royal, good and gallant ship, our master, capering to eye her, on a trice, so please you, even in a dream, where we divided from them and were brought moping hither. Assign to Prospero. Waste well done. Assign to Aerial. Bravely, my diligence, thou shalt be free. This is a strange amaze as airmen trod and there is in this business more than nature was ever conduct of. Some oracle must rectify our knowledge. Sir Myleige, do not infest your mind with beating on the strangeness of this business. At picked leisure, which shall be shortly, resolve you, which to you shall seem probable of every these happened accidents. Till when, be cheerful and think of each thing well. Assign to Aerial. Come hither, spirit, set Caliban and his companions free untie the spell. How fair is my gracious, sir. There are yet missing of your company some few odd lads that you remember not. Re-enter Aerial, driving in Caliban, Stefano and Trinculo in their stolen apparel. Every man shift for all the rest and let no man take care for himself, for all is but fortune. Couragio, bully monster, Couragio! If these be true spies with which I wear my head, here's a goodly sight. Oh, setter boss, these be brave spirits indeed. How fine my master is. I am afraid he will justize me. Ha ha! What things are these, my lord Antonio? Will money buy him? Very like. One of them is a plain fish, and no doubt marketable. Mark but the badges of these men, my lords, then say if they be true. This misshapen nave his mother was of which, and one so strong that could control the moon, make flows and ebbs and deal in her command without her power. These three have robbed me, and this demi-devil, for he's a bastard one, had plotted with them to take my life. Two of these fellows you must know and own, this thing of darkness I acknowledge mine. Oh, I shall be pitched to death. Is not this Stefano my drunken butler? He is drunk now, where had he whine? And Trinculo is reeling ripe. Where should they find this grand liquor that hath gilded them? How came is thou in this pickle? I have been in such a pickle since I saw you last. I fear me will never out of my bones. I shall not fear fly-blowing. Why, how now Stefano? Oh, touch me not. I am not Stefano, but a cramp. You'd be king of the isle, Serra. I should have been a sore one then. This is a strange thing as ere I looked on. Pointing to Caliban. He is as disproportioned in his manners as in his shape. Go, Serra, to my cell. Take with you your companions, as you look to have my pardon trim it handsomely. Aye, that I will, and I'll be wise hereafter, and seek for grace. What a thrice double-ass was I to take this drunkard for a god, and worship this dull fool. Go to a way. Hence and bestow your luggage where you found it. Or stole it, rather? Exuant. Caliban, Stefano, and Trinculo. Sir, I invite your highness and your train to my poor cell, where you shall take your rest for this one night. Which part of it I'll waste with such discourse as I, not doubt, shall make it go quick away. The story of my life, and the particular accidents gone by since I came to this isle. And in the morn I'll bring you to your ship, and so to Naples, where I have hope to see the nuptial of these our dear beloved solemnizad, and thence retire me to my millon, where every third thought shall be my grave. I long to hear the story of your life, which must take the ear strangely. I'll deliver all, and promise you calm seas, auspicious gales, and sail so expeditious that shall catch your royal fleet far off. Aside to Ariel, my Ariel check that is thy charge. Then to the elements be free, and fare thou well. Please you, draw near. End of Act V. Epilogue. Spoken by Prospero. Now my charms are all or thrown, and what strength I have smine own, which is most faint. Now, tis true, I must be here, confined by you or sent to Naples. Let me not, since I have my dukedom got and pardoned the deceiver, dwell on this bare island by your spell, but release me from my bands with the help of your good hands. Gentle breath of yours my sails must fill, or else my project fails, which was to please. Now I want spirits to enforce art to enchant, and my ending is despair, unless I be relieved by prayer, which pierces so that it assaults mercy itself and frees all faults. As you from crimes would pardon to be, let your indulgence set me free. End of Epilogue. End of The Tempest by William Shakespeare.