The Tempest - William Shakespeare (buy e reader txt) 📗
- Author: William Shakespeare
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Of all the world I loved, and to him put
70 The manage of my state; as, at that time,
Through all the signories 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,
I. 2. 75 The government I cast upon my brother,
And to my state grew stranger, being transported
And rapt in secret studies. Thy false uncle—
Dost thou attend me?
Mir.
Sir, most heedfully.
Pros. Being once perfected how to grant suits,
80 How to deny them, whom to advance, and whom
To trash for over-topping, new created
The creatures that were mine, I say, or changed ’em,
Or else new form’d ’em; having both the key
Of officer and office, set all hearts i’ the state
85 To what tune pleased his ear; that now he was
The ivy which had hid my princely trunk,
And suck’d my verdure out on’t. Thou attend’st not.
Mir. O, good sir, I do.
Pros.
I pray thee, mark me.
I, thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicated
90 To closeness and the bettering of my mind
With that which, but by being so retired,
O’er-prized all popular rate, in my false brother
Awaked an evil nature; and my trust,
Like a good parent, did beget of him
95 A falsehood in its contrary, as great
As my trust was; which had indeed 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
I. 2. 100 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 o’ the substitution,
And executing the outward face of royalty,
105 With all prerogative:—hence his ambition growing,—
Dost thou hear?
Mir.
Your tale, sir, would cure deafness.
Pros. To have no screen between this part he play’d
And him he play’d it for, he needs will be
Absolute Milan. Me, poor man, my library
110 Was dukedom large enough: of temporal royalties
He thinks me now incapable; confederates,
So dry he was for sway, wi’ the King of Naples
To give him annual tribute, do him homage,
Subject his coronet to his crown, and bend
115 The dukedom, yet unbow’d,—alas, poor Milan!—
To most ignoble stooping.
Mir.
O the heavens!
Pros. Mark his condition, and th’ event; then tell me
If this might be a brother.
Mir.
I should sin
To think but nobly of my grandmother:
Good wombs have borne bad sons.
Pros.
120 Now the condition.
This King of Naples, being an enemy
To me inveterate, hearkens my brother’s suit;
Which was, that he, in lieu o’ the premises,
Of homage and I know not how much tribute,
I. 2. 125 Should presently extirpate me and mine
Out of the dukedom, and confer fair Milan,
With all the honours, on my brother: whereon,
A treacherous army levied, one midnight
Fated to the purpose, did Antonio open
130 The gates of Milan; and, i’ the dead of darkness,
The ministers for the purpose hurried thence
Me and thy crying self.
Mir.
Alack, for pity!
I, not remembering how I cried out then,
Will cry it o’er again: it is a hint
That wrings mine eyes to’t.
Pros.
135 Hear a little further,
And then I’ll bring thee to the present business
Which now’s upon ’s; without the which, this story
Were most impertinent.
Mir.
Wherefore did they not
That hour destroy us?
Pros.
Well demanded, wench:
140 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 colours fairer painted their foul ends.
In few, they hurried us aboard a bark,
145 Bore us some leagues to sea; where they prepared
A rotten carcass of a boat, not rigg’d,
Nor tackle, sail, nor mast; the very rats
Instinctively have quit it: there they hoist us,
To cry to the sea that roar’d to us; to sigh
I. 2. 150 To the winds, whose pity, sighing back again,
Did us but loving wrong.
Mir.
Alack, what trouble
Was I then to you!
Pros.
O, a cherubin
Thou wast that did preserve me. Thou didst smile,
Infused with a fortitude from heaven,
155 When I have deck’d the sea with drops full salt,
Under my burthen groan’d; which raised in me
An undergoing stomach, to bear up
Against what should ensue.
Mir.
How came we ashore?
Pros. By Providence divine.
160 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,
165 Which since have steaded much; so, of his gentleness,
Knowing I loved my books, he furnish’d me
From mine own library with volumes that
I prize above my dukedom.
Mir.
Would I might
But ever see that man!
Pros.
Now I arise: Resumes his mantle.
170 Sit still, and hear the last of our sea-sorrow.
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.
I. 2. 175 Mir. Heavens thank you for’t! And now, I pray you, sir,
For still ’tis beating in my mind, your reason
For raising this sea-storm?
Pros.
Know thus far forth.
By accident most strange, bountiful Fortune,
Now my dear lady, hath mine enemies
180 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:
185 Thou art inclined to sleep; ’tis a good dulness,
And give it way: I know thou canst not choose. Miranda sleeps.
Come away, servant, come. I am ready now.
Approach, my Ariel, come.
Enter Ariel.Ari. All hail, great master! grave sir, hail! I come
190 To answer thy best pleasure; be’t to fly,
To swim, to dive into the fire, to ride
On the curl’d clouds, to thy strong bidding task
Ariel and all his quality.
Pros.
Hast thou, spirit,
Perform’d to point the tempest that I bade thee?
195 Ari. 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’ld divide,
And burn in many places; on the topmast,
I. 2. 200 The yards and bowsprit, would I flame distinctly,
Then meet and join. Jove’s lightnings, the precursors
O’ the dreadful thunder-claps, more momentary
And sight-outrunning were not: the fire and cracks
Of sulphurous roaring the most mighty Neptune
205 Seem to besiege, and make his bold waves tremble,
Yea, his dread trident shake.
Pros.
My brave spirit!
Who was so firm, so constant, that this coil
Would not infect his reason?
Ari.
Not a soul
But felt a fever of the mad, and play’d
210 Some tricks of desperation. All but mariners
Plunged in the foaming brine, and quit the vessel,
Then all afire with me: the king’s son, Ferdinand,
With hair up-staring,—then like reeds, not hair,—
Was the first man that leap’d; cried, “Hell is empty,
And all the devils are here.”
Pros.
215 Why, that’s my spirit!
But was not this nigh shore?
Ari.
Close by, my master.
Pros. But are they, Ariel, safe?
Ari.
Not a hair perish’d;
On their sustaining garments not a blemish,
But fresher than before: and, as thou badest me,
220 In troops I have dispersed them ’bout the isle.
The king’s son have I landed by himself;
Whom I left cooling of the air with sighs
In an odd angle of the isle, and sitting,
His arms in this sad knot.
Pros.
Of the king’s ship
I. 2. 225 The mariners, say how thou hast disposed,
And all the rest o’ the fleet.
Ari.
Safely in harbour
Is the king’s ship; in the deep nook, where once
Thou call’dst me up at midnight to fetch dew
From the still-vex’d Bermoothes, there she’s hid:
230 The mariners all under hatches stow’d;
Who, with a charm join’d to their suffer’d labour,
I have left asleep: and for the rest o’ the fleet,
Which I dispersed, they all have met again,
And are upon the Mediterranean flote,
235 Bound sadly home for Naples;
Supposing that they saw the king’s ship wreck’d,
And his great person perish.
Pros.
Ariel, thy charge
Exactly is perform’d: but there’s more work.
What is the time o’ the day?
Ari.
Past the mid season.
240 Pros. At least two glasses. The time ’twixt six and now
Must by us both be spent most preciously.
Ari. Is there more toil? Since thou dost give me pains,
Let me remember thee what thou hast promised,
Which is not yet perform’d me.
Pros.
How now? moody?
What is’t thou canst demand?
Ari.
245 My liberty.
Pros. Before the time be out? no more!
Ari.
I prithee,
Remember I have done thee worthy service;
Told thee no lies, made thee no mistakings, served
Without or grudge or grumblings: thou didst promise
To bate me a full year.
Pros.
I. 2. 250 Dost thou forget
From what a torment I did free thee?
Ari.
No.
Pros. Thou dost; and think’st it much to tread the ooze
Of the salt deep,
To run upon the sharp wind of the north,
255 To do me business in the veins o’ the earth
When it is baked with frost.
Ari.
I do not, sir.
Pros. Thou liest, malignant thing! Hast thou forgot
The foul witch Sycorax, who with age and envy
Was grown into a hoop? hast thou forgot her?
Ari. No, sir.
Pros.
260 Thou hast. Where was she born? speak; tell me.
Ari. Sir, in Argier.
Pros.
O, was she so? I must
Once in a month recount what thou hast been,
Which thou forget’st. This damn’d witch Sycorax,
For mischiefs manifold, and sorceries terrible
265 To enter human hearing, from Argier,
Thou know’st, was banish’d: for one thing she did
They would not take her life. Is not this true?
Ari. Ay, sir.
Pros. This blue-eyed hag was hither brought with child,
270 And here was left by the sailors. Thou, my slave,
As thou report’st thyself, wast then her servant;
And, for thou wast a spirit too delicate
To act her
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