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Title: The Tempest
The Works of William Shakespeare [Cambridge Edition] [9 vols.]
Author: William Shakespeare
Editor: William George Clark
John Glover
Release Date: October 26, 2007 [EBook #23042]
Language: English
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This text of The Tempest is from Volume I of the nine-volume 1863 Cambridge edition of Shakespeare. The editors’ preface (e-text 23041) and the other plays from this volume are each available as separate e-texts.
General Notes are in their original location at the end of the play, followed by the text-critical notes originally printed at the bottom of each page. All notes are hyperlinked in both directions. In dialogue, a link from a speaker’s name generally means that the note applies to the entire line or group of lines.
Line numbers—shown in the right margin and used for all notes—are from the original text. In prose passages the exact line counts will depend on your browser settings, and will probably be different from the displayed numbers. Stage directions were not included in the line numbering.
Texts cited in the Notes are listed at the end of the e-text.
IN THE UNIVERSITY OF CAMBRIDGE; and JOHN GLOVER, M.A. LIBRARIAN OF TRINITY COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE.
VOLUME I.
Cambridge and London:
MACMILLAN AND CO.
1863. Dramatis Personæ
Act I Scene 1 On a ship at sea. Scene 2 The island. Before Prospero’s cell. Act II Scene 1 Another part of the island. Scene 2 Another part of the island. Act III Scene 1 Before Prospero’s cell. Scene 2 Another part of the island. Scene 3 Another part of the island. Act IV Scene 1 Before Prospero’s cell. Act V Scene 1 Before the cell of Prospero.
Endnotes Critical Apparatus (“Linenotes”) Texts Used (from general preface)
THE TEMPEST.
DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.1
Alonso, King of Naples.
Sebastian, his brother.
Prospero, the right Duke of Milan.
Antonio, his brother, the usurping Duke of Milan.
Ferdinand, son to the King of Naples.
Gonzalo, an honest old Counsellor.
Adrian, Lords. Francisco,Caliban, a savage and deformed Slave.
Trinculo, a Jester.
Stephano, a drunken Butler.
Master of a Ship.
Boatswain.
Mariners.
Miranda, daughter to Prospero.
Ariel, an airy Spirit.
Iris, presented by2 Spirits. Ceres, Juno, Nymphs, Reapers,
Other Spirits attending on Prospero3.
Scene—A ship at sea4: an uninhabited island.1. Dramatis Personæ] Names of the actors F1 at the end of the Play.
2. presented by] Edd.
3. Other ... Prospero] Theobald.
4. A ship at sea:] At sea: Capell.
Mast. Boatswain!
Boats. Here, master: what cheer?
Mast. Good, speak to the mariners: fall to’t, yarely, or we run ourselves aground: bestir, bestir. Exit.
Enter Mariners.5 Boats. Heigh, my hearts! cheerly, cheerly, my hearts! yare, yare! Take in the topsail. Tend to the master’s whistle. Blow, till thou burst thy wind, if room enough!
Enter Alonso, Sebastian, Antonio, Ferdinand, Gonzalo, and others.Alon. Good boatswain, have care. Where’s the master? Play the men.
10 Boats. I pray now, keep below.
Ant. Where is the master, boatswain?
Boats. Do you not hear him? You mar our labour: keep your cabins: you do assist the storm.
Gon. Nay, good, be patient.
15 Boats. When the sea is. Hence! What cares these roarers for the name of king? To cabin: silence! trouble us not.
Gon. Good, yet remember whom thou hast aboard.
Boats. None that I more love than myself. You are a 20 Counsellor; if you can command these elements to silence, and work the peace of the present, we will not hand a rope more; use your authority: if you cannot, give thanks you have lived so long, and make yourself ready in your cabin for the mischance of the hour, if it so hap. Cheerly, good I. 1. 25 hearts! Out of our way, I say. Exit.
Gon. I have great comfort from this fellow: methinks he hath no drowning mark upon him; his complexion is perfect gallows. Stand fast, good Fate, to his hanging: make the rope of his destiny our cable, for our own doth 30 little advantage. If he be not born to be hanged, our case is miserable. Exeunt.
Re-enter Boatswain.Boats. Down with the topmast! yare! lower, lower! Bring her to try with main-course. [A cry within.] A plague upon this howling! they are louder than the weather 35 or our office.
Re-enter Sebastian, Antonio, and Gonzalo.Yet again! what do you here? Shall we give o’er, and drown? Have you a mind to sink?
Seb. A pox o’ your throat, you bawling, blasphemous, incharitable dog!
40 Boats. Work you, then.
Ant. Hang, cur! hang, you whoreson, insolent noise-maker. We are less afraid to be drowned than thou art.
Gon. I’ll warrant him for drowning; though the ship were no stronger than a nutshell, and as leaky as an unstanched 45 wench.
Boats. Lay her a-hold, a-hold! set her two courses off to sea again; lay her off.
Enter Mariners wet.Mariners. All lost! to prayers, to prayers! all lost!
Boats. What, must our mouths be cold?
I. 1. 50 Gon. The king and prince at prayers! let’s assist them,
For our case is as theirs.
Seb.
I’m out of patience.
Ant. We are merely cheated of our lives by drunkards:
This wide-chapp’d rascal,—would thou mightst lie drowning
The washing of ten tides!
Gon.
He’ll be hang’d yet,
55 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!”60 Ant. Let’s all sink with the king.
Seb. Let’s take leave of him. Exeunt Ant. and Seb.
Gon. Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea for an acre of barren ground, long heath, brown furze, any thing. The wills above be done! but I would fain die a 65 dry death. Exeunt.
I. 2 Scene II. The island. Before Prospero’s cell. Enter Prospero and Miranda.Mir. 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,
5 Dashes the fire out. O, I have suffer’d
With those that I saw suffer! a brave vessel,
Who had, no doubt, some noble creature in her,
Dash’d all to pieces. O, the cry did knock
Against my very heart! Poor souls, they perish’d!
10 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 swallow’d and
The fraughting souls within her.
Pros.
Be collected:
No more amazement: tell your piteous heart
There’s no harm done.
Mir.
O, woe the day!
Pros.
15 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, nought knowing
Of whence I am, nor that I am more better
20 Than Prospero, master of a full poor cell,
And thy no greater father.
Mir.
More to know
Did never meddle with my thoughts.
Pros.
’Tis time
I should inform thee farther. Lend thy hand,
And pluck my magic garment from me.—So: Lays down his mantle.
I. 2. 25 Lie there, my art. Wipe thou thine eyes; have comfort.
The direful spectacle of the wreck, which touch’d
The very virtue of compassion in thee,
I have with such provision in mine art
So safely order’d, that there is no soul,
30 No, not so much perdition as an hair
Betid to any creature in the vessel
Which thou heard’st cry, which thou saw’st sink. Sit down;
For thou must now know farther.
Mir.
You have often
Begun to tell me what I am; but stopp’d,
35
And left me to a bootless inquisition,
Concluding “Stay: not yet.”
Pros.
The hour’s now come;
The very minute bids thee ope thine ear;
Obey, and be attentive. Canst thou remember
A time before we came unto this cell?
40 I do not think thou canst, for then thou wast not
Out three years old.
Mir.
Certainly, sir, I can.
Pros. By what? by any other house or person?
Of any thing the image tell me that
Hath kept with thy remembrance.
Mir.
’Tis far off,
45 And rather like a dream than an assurance
That my remembrance warrants. Had I not
Four or five women once that tended me?
Pros. Thou hadst, and more, Miranda. But how is it
That this lives in thy mind? What seest thou else
I. 2. 50 In the dark backward and abysm of time?
If thou remember’st ought ere thou camest here,
How thou camest here thou mayst.
Mir.
But that I do not.
Pros. Twelve year since, Miranda, twelve year since,
Thy father was the Duke of Milan, and
A prince of power.
Mir.
55 Sir, are not you my father?
Pros. Thy mother was a piece of virtue, and
She said thou wast my daughter; and thy father
Was Duke of Milan; and his only heir
And princess, no worse issued.
Mir.
O the heavens!
60 What foul play had we, that we came from thence?
Or blessed was’t we did?
Pros.
Both, both, my girl:
By foul play, as thou say’st, were we heaved thence;
But blessedly holp hither.
Mir.
O, my heart bleeds
To think o’ the teen that I have turn’d you to.
65 Which is from my remembrance! Please you, farther.
Pros. My brother, and thy uncle, call’d Antonio,—
I pray thee, mark me,—that a brother should
Be so perfidious!—he whom, next
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