|ACT V SCENE I
|Before PROSPERO'S cell.
|[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's followers?
|In the same fashion as you gave in 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 term'd, sir, 'The good old lord Gonzalo;'
|His tears run down his beard, like winter's drops
|From eaves of reeds. Your charm so strongly works 'em
|That if you now beheld them, your affections
|Would become tender.
|Dost thou think so, spirit?
|Mine would, sir, were I human.
|And mine shall.
|Hast 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 kindlier moved than thou art?
|Though with their high wrongs I am struck to the quick,
|Yet with my nobler reason 'gaitist 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 demi-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 bedimm'd
|The noontide sun, call'd forth the mutinous winds,
|And 'twixt the green sea and 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 pluck'd up
|The pine and cedar: graves at my command
|Have waked their sleepers, oped, and let 'em forth
|By my so potent art. But this rough magic
|I here 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 did ever plummet sound
|I'll drown my book.
Re-enter ARIEL before: then ALONSO, 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
|A solemn air and the best comforter
|To an unsettled fancy cure thy brains,
|Now useless, boil'd within thy skull! There stand,
|For you are spell-stopp'd.
|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 you follow'st! I will pay thy graces
|Home both in word and deed. Most cruelly
|Didst thou, Alonso, use me and my daughter:
|Thy brother was a furtherer in the act.
|Thou art pinch'd fort now, Sebastian. Flesh and blood,
|You, brother mine, that entertain'd ambition,
|Expell'd remorse and nature; who, with Sebastian,
|Whose inward pinches therefore are most strong,
|Would here have kill'd your king; I do forgive thee,
|Unnatural though thou art. Their understanding
|Begins to swell, and the 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 sometime Milan: quickly, spirit;
|Thou shalt ere long be free.
|[ARIEL sings and helps to attire him]
|Where the bee sucks. there suck I:
|In a cowslip's bell 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 bough.
|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 boatswain
|Being awake, enforce them to this place,
|And presently, I prithee.
|I drink the air before me, and return
|Or ere your pulse twice beat.
|All torment, trouble, wonder and amazement
|Inhabits here: some heavenly power guide us
|Out of this fearful country!
|Behold, sir king,
|The wronged Duke of Milan, 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 best 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 crave,
|An if this be at all, a most strange story.
|Thy dukedom I 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 subtilties o' 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.
|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 be'st Prospero,
|Give us particulars of thy preservation;
|How thou hast met us here, who three hours since
|Were wreck'd upon this shore; where I have lost--
|How sharp the point of this remembrance is!--
|My dear son Ferdinand.
|I am woe for't, 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.
|O heavens, that they were living both in Naples,
|The king and queen there! that they were, I wish
|Myself were mudded 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, howsoe'er you have
|Been justled from your senses, know for certain
|That I am Prospero and that very duke
|Which was thrust forth of Milan, who most strangely
|Upon this shore, where you were wreck'd, was landed,
|To be the lord on't. No more yet of this;
|For 'tis a chronicle of day by day,
|Not a relation for a breakfast nor
|Befitting this first meeting. Welcome, sir;
|This cell's 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 content ye
|As much as me my dukedom.
Here PROSPERO discovers FERDINAND and MIRANDA
playing at chess
|Sweet lord, you play me false.
|No, my dear'st 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.
|Now all the blessings
|Of a glad father compass thee about!
|Arise, and say how thou camest here.
|How many goodly creatures are there here!
|How beauteous mankind is! O brave new world,
|That has such people in't!
|'Tis new to thee.
|What is this maid with whom thou wast at play?
|Your eld'st acquaintance cannot be three hours:
|Is she the goddess that hath sever'd 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, O, how oddly will it sound that I
|Must ask my child forgiveness!
|There, sir, stop:
|Let us not burthen our remembrance with
|A heaviness that's gone.
|I have inly wept,
|Or should have spoke ere this. Look down, you god,
|And on this couple drop a blessed crown!
|For it is you that have chalk'd forth the way
|Which brought us hither.
|I say, Amen, Gonzalo!
|Was Milan thrust from Milan, that his issue
|Should become kings of Naples? O, rejoice
|Beyond a common joy, and set it down
|With gold on lasting pillars: In one voyage
|Did Claribel her husband find at Tunis,
|And Ferdinand, her brother, found a wife
|Where he himself was lost, Prospero his dukedom
|In a poor isle 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!
Re-enter ARIEL, with the Master and Boatswain
|O, 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 swear'st grace o'erboard, 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, our ship--
|Which, but three glasses since, we gave out split--
|Is tight and yare and bravely rigg'd as when
|We first put out to sea.
|[Aside to PROSPERO] Sir, all this service
|Have I done since I went.
|[Aside to ARIEL] My tricksy spirit!
|These are not natural events; they strengthen
|From strange to stranger. Say, how came you hither?
|If I did think, sir, I were well awake,
|I'ld strive to tell you. We were dead of sleep,
|And--how we know not--all clapp'd under hatches;
|Where but even now with strange and several noises
|Of roaring, shrieking, howling, jingling chains,
|And more diversity of sounds, all horrible,
|We were awaked; straightway, 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, were we divided from them
|And were brought moping hither.
|[Aside to PROSPERO] Was't well done?
|[Aside to ARIEL] Bravely, my diligence. Thou shalt be free.
|This is as strange a maze as e'er men trod
|And there is in this business more than nature
|Was ever conduct of: some oracle
|Must rectify our knowledge.
|Sir, my liege,
|Do not infest your mind with beating on
|The strangeness of this business; at pick'd leisure
|Which shall be shortly, single I'll resolve you,
|Which to you shall seem probable, of every
|These happen'd accidents; till when, be cheerful
|And think of each thing well.
|[Aside to ARIEL]
|Come hither, spirit:
|Set Caliban and his companions free;
|Untie the spell.
|How fares my gracious sir?
|There are yet missing of your company
|Some few odd lads that you remember not.
Re-enter ARIEL, driving in CALIBAN, STEPHANO
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. Coragio, bully-monster, coragio!
|If these be true spies which I wear in my head,
|here's a goodly sight.
|O Setebos, these be brave spirits indeed!
|How fine my master is! I am afraid
|He will chastise me.
|What things are these, my lord Antonio?
|Will money buy 'em?
|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 mis-shapen knave,
|His mother was a witch, and one so strong
|That could control the moon, make flows and ebbs,
|And deal in her command without her power.
|These three have robb'd 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 shall be pinch'd to death.
|Is not this Stephano, my drunken butler?
|He is drunk now: where had he wine?
|And Trinculo is reeling ripe: where should they
|Find this grand liquor that hath gilded 'em?
|How camest thou in this pickle?
|I have been in such a pickle since I
|saw you last that, I fear me, will never out of
|my bones: I shall not fear fly-blowing.
|Why, how now, Stephano!
|O, touch me not; I am not Stephano, but a cramp.
|You'ld be king o' the isle, sirrah?
|I should have been a sore one then.
|This is a strange thing as e'er I look'd on.
|[Pointing to Caliban]
|He is as disproportion'd in his manners
|As in his shape. Go, sirrah, to my cell;
|Take with you your companions; as you look
|To have my pardon, trim it handsomely.
|Ay, 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; away!
|Hence, and bestow your luggage where you found it.
|Or stole it, rather.
|[Exeunt CALIBAN, STEPHANO, 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 solemnized;
|And thence retire me to my Milan, where
|Every third thought shall be my grave.
|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, chick,
|That is thy charge: then to the elements
|Be free, and fare thou well! Please you, draw near.
|Now my charms are all o'erthrown,
|And what strength I have's mine 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 pardon'd the deceiver, dwell
|In 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'd be,
|Let your indulgence set me free.