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The Oxford Shakespeare: The Complete Works

Page 395

by William Shakespeare


  Behold this maid. All corners else o’th’ earth

  Let liberty make use of; space enough

  Have I in such a prison.

  PROSPERO (aside)

  It works. (To Ferdinand) Come on.—

  Thou hast done well, fine Ariel. (To Ferdinand) Follow

  me.

  (To Ariel) Hark what thou else shalt do me.

  MIRANDA (to Ferdinand)

  Be of comfort.

  My father’s of a better nature, sir,

  Than he appears by speech. This is unwonted

  Which now came from him.

  PROSPERO (to Ariel)

  Thou shalt be as free

  As mountain winds; but then exactly do

  All points of my command.

  ARIEL To th’ syllable.

  PROSPERO (to Ferdinand)

  Come, follow. (To Miranda) Speak not for him.

  Exeunt

  2.1 Enter Alonso, Sebastian, Antonio, Gonzalo, Adrian, and Francisco

  GONZALO (to Alonso)

  Beseech you, sir, be merry. You have cause,

  So have we all, of joy; for our escape

  Is much beyond our loss. Our hint of woe

  Is common; every day some sailor’s wife,

  The masters of some merchant, and the merchant,

  Have just our theme of woe. But for the miracle,

  I mean our preservation, few in millions

  Can speak like us. Then wisely, good sir, weigh

  Our sorrow with our comfort.

  ALONSO

  Prithee, peace.

  SEBASTIAN (to Antonio) He receives comfort like cold porridge.

  ANTONIO The visitor will not give him o’er so.

  SEBASTIAN Look, he’s winding up the watch of his wit. By and by it will strike.

  GONZALO (to Alonso) Sir—

  SEBASTIAN (to Antonio) One: tell.

  GONZALO (to Alonso)

  When every grief is entertained that’s offered,

  Comes to th’entertainer—

  SEBASTIAN A dollar.

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

  SEABASTIAN You have taken it wiselier than I meant you should.

  GONZALO (to Alonso) Therefore my lord—

  ANTONIO (to Sebastian) Fie, what a spendthrift is he of his tongue!

  ALONSO (to Gonzalo) I prithee, spare.

  GONZALO Well, I have done. But yet—

  SEBASTIAN (to Antonio) He will be talking.

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

  SEBASTIAN The old cock.

  ANTONIO The cockerel.

  SEBASTIAN Done. The wager?

  ANTONIO A laughter. 35

  SEBASTIAN A match!

  ADRIAN (to Gonzalo) Though this island seem to be desert—

  ⌈ANTONIO⌉ (to Sebastian) Ha, ha, ha!

  ⌈SEBASTIAN⌉So, you’re paid.

  ADRIAN Uninhabitable, and almost inaccessible—

  SEBASTIAN (to Antonio) Yet—

  ADRIAN Yet—

  ANTONIO (to Sebastian) He could not miss’t.

  ADRIAN It must needs be of subtle, tender, and delicate temperance. 45

  ANTONIO (to Sebastian) Temperance was a delicate wench.

  SEBASTIAN Ay, and a subtle, as he most learnedly delivered.

  ADRIAN (to Gonzalo) The air breathes upon us here most sweetly.

  SEBASTIAN (to Antonio) As if it had lungs, and rotten ones.

  ANTONIO Or as ’twere perfumed by a fen.

  GONZALO (to Adrian) Here is everything advantageous to life.

  ANTONIO (to Sebastian) True, save means to live.

  SEBASTIAN Of that there’s none, or little.

  GONZALO (to Adrian) How lush and lusty the grass looks! How green!

  ANTONIO The ground indeed is tawny.

  SEABASTIAN With an eye of green in’t.

  ANTONIO He misses not much.

  SEBASTIAN No, he doth but mistake the truth totally.

  GONZALO (to Adrian) But the rarity of it is, which is indeed almost beyond credit—

  SEBASTIAN (to Antonio) As many vouched rarities are.

  GONZALO (to Adrian) That our garments being, as they were, drenched in the sea, hold notwithstanding their freshness and glosses, being rather new-dyed than stained with salt water.

  ANTONIO (to Sebastian) If but one of his pockets could speak, would it not say he lies?

  SEBASTIAN Ay, or very falsely pocket up his report.

  GONZALO (to Adrian) Methinks our garments are now as fresh as when we put them on first in Afric, at the marriage of the King’s fair daughter Claribel to the King of Tunis.

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

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

  GONZALO Not since widow Dido’s time.

  ANTONIO (to Sebastian) Widow? A pox o‘that! How came that ‘widow’ in? Widow Dido!

  SEBASTIAN What if he had said ‘widower Aeneas’ too? Good Lord, how you take it!

  ADRIAN (to Gonzalo) ‘Widow Dido’ said you? You make me study of that: she was of Carthage, not of Tunis.

  GONZALO This Tunis, sir, was Carthage.

  ADRIAN Carthage?

  GONZALO I assure you, Carthage.

  ANTONIO (to Sebastian) His word is more than the miraculous harp.

  SEBASTIAN He hath raised the wall, and houses too.

  ANTONIO What impossible matter will he make easy next?

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

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

  GONZALO (to Adrian) Ay.

  ANTONIO (to Sebastian) Why, in good time.

  GONZALO (to Alonso) Sir, we were talking that our garments seem now as fresh as when we were at Tunis, at the marriage of your daughter, who is now queen.

  ANTONIO And the rarest that e’er came there.

  SEBASTIAN Bate, I beseech you, widow Dido.

  ANTONIO O, widow Dido? Ay, widow Dido.

  GONZALO (to Alonso) Is not, sir, my doublet as fresh as the first day I wore it? I mean in a sort.

  ANTONIO (to Sebastian) That ‘sort’ was well fished for.

  GONZALO (to Alonso) When I wore it at your daughter’s marriage.

  ALONSO

  You cram these words into mine ears against

  The stomach of my sense. Would 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 heir

  Of Naples and of Milan, what strange fish

  Hath made his meal on thee?

  FRANCISCO

  Sir, he may live.

  I saw him beat the surges under him

  And ride upon their backs. He trod the water,

  Whose enmity he flung aside, and breasted

  The surge, most swoll‘n, that met him. His bold head

  ’Bove the contentious waves he kept, and oared

  Himself with his good arms in lusty stroke

  To th’ shore, that o’er his wave-worn basis bowed,

  As stooping to relieve him. I not doubt

  He came alive to land.

  ALONSO

  No, no; he’s gone.

  SEBASTIAN (to Alonso)

  Sir, you may thank yourself for this great loss,

  That would not bless our Europe with your daughter,

  But rather loose her to an African,

  Where she, at least, is banished from your eye,

  Who hath cause to wet the grief on’t.

  ALONSO

  Prithee, peace.

  SEBASTIAN

  You were kneeled to and importuned otherwise

  By all of us, and the fair soul herself

  Weighed between loathness and obed
ience at

  Which end o’th’ 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 fault’s your

  own.

  ALONSO

  So is the dear‘st o’th’ loss.

  GONZALO 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.

  SEBASTIAN (to Antonio) Very well.

  ANTONIO And most chirurgeonly.

  GONZALO (to Alonso)

  It is foul weather in us all, good sir,

  When you are cloudy.

  SEBASTIAN (to Antonio) Fowl weather?

  ANTONIO

  Very foul.

  GONZALO (to Alonso)

  Had I plantation of this isle, my lord—

  ANTONIO (to Seabastian)

  He’d sow’t with nettle-seed.

  SEBASTIAN

  Or docks, or mallows.

  GONZALO

  And were the king on’t, what would I do?

  SEBASTIAN (to Antonio)

  Scape being drunk, for want of wine.

  GONZALO

  I’th’ 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,

  Bourn, 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—

  SEBASTIAN (to Antonio) Yet he would be king on’t.

  ANTONIO The latter end of his commonwealth forgets the beginning.

  GONZALO (to Alonso)

  All things in common nature should produce

  Without sweat or endeavour. Treason, felony,

  Sword, pike, knife, gun, or need of any engine,

  Would I not have; but nature should bring forth

  Of it own kind all foison, all abundance,

  To feed my innocent people.

  SEBASTIAN (to Antonio) No marrying ’mong his subjects?

  ANTONIO None, man, all idle: whores and knaves.

  GONZALO (to Alonso)

  I would with such perfection govern, sir,

  T’excel the Golden Age.

  SEBASTIAN

  Save his majesty!

  ANTONIO

  Long live Gonzalol

  GONZALO (to Alonso) And—do you mark me, sir?

  ALONSO

  Prithee, no more. Thou dost talk nothing to me.

  GONZALO 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 use to laugh at nothing.

  ANTONIO ’Twas you we laughed at.

  GONZALO Who, in this kind of merry fooling, am nothing to you. So you may continue, and laugh at nothing still.

  ANTONIO What a blow was there given!

  SEBASTIAN An it had not fallen flat-long.

  GONZALO You are gentlemen of brave mettle. You would lift the moon out of her sphere, if she would continue in it five weeks without changing.

  Enter Ariel, invisible, playing solemn music

  SEBASTIAN We would so, and then go a-bat-fowling.

  ANTONIO (to Gonzalo) Nay, good my lord, be not angry.

  GONZALO No, I warrant you, I will not adventure my discretion so weakly. Will you laugh me asleep? For I am very heavy.

  ANTONIO Go sleep, and hear us.

  Gonzalo, Adrian, and Francisco sleep

  ALONSO

  What, all so soon asleep? I wish mine eyes

  Would, with themselves, shut up my thoughts.—I find

  They are inclined to do so.

  SEBASTIAN

  Please you, sir,

  Do not omit the heavy offer of it.

  It seldom visits sorrow; when it doth,

  It is a comforter.

  ANTONIO

  We two, my lord,

  Will guard your person while you take your rest,

  And watch your safety.

  ALONSO

  Thank you. Wondrous heavy.

  He sleeps. ⌈Exit Ariel⌉

  SEBASTIAN

  What a strange drowsiness possesses them!

  ANTONIO

  It is the quality o’th’ climate.

  SEBASTIAN

  Why

  Doth it not then our eyelids sink? I find

  Not myself disposed to sleep.

  ANTONIO

  Nor I; my spirits are nimble.

  They fell together all, as by consent;

  They dropped as by a thunderstroke. What might,

  Worthy Sebastian, O, what might—? No more!—

  And yet methinks I see it in thy face.

  What thou shouldst be th’occasion speaks thee, and

  My strong imagination sees a crown

  Dropping upon thy head.

  SEBASTIAN

  What, art thou waking?

  ANTONIO

  Do you not hear me speak?

  SEBASTIAN

  I do, and surely

  It is a sleepy language, and thou speak’st

  Out of thy sleep. What is it thou didst say?

  This is a strange repose, to be asleep

  With eyes wide open; standing, speaking, moving,

  And yet so fast asleep.

  ANTONIO

  Noble Sebastian,

  Thou letst thy fortune sleep, die rather; wink’st

  Whiles thou art waking.

  SEBASTIAN

  Thou dost snore distinctly;

  There’s meaning in thy snores.

  ANTONIO

  I am more serious than my custom. You

  Must be so too if heed me, which to do

  Trebles thee o’er.

  SEBASTIAN

  Well, I am standing water.

  ANTONIO

  I’ll teach you how to flow.

  SEBASTIAN

  Do so; to ebb

  Hereditary sloth instructs me.

  ANTONIO

  O,

  If you but knew how you the purpose cherish

  Whiles 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.

  SEBASTIAN

  Prithee, say on.

  The setting of thine eye and cheek proclaim

  A matter from thee, and a birth, indeed,

  Which throes thee much to yield.

  ANTONIO

  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,

  ’Tis as impossible that he’s undrowned

  As he that sleeps here swims.

  SEBASTIAN

  I have no hope

  That he’s undrowned.

  ANTONIO

  O, out of that ‘no hope’

  What great hope have you! No hope that way is

  Another way so high a hope that even

  Ambition cannot pierce a wink beyond,

  But doubt discovery there. Will you grant with me

  That Ferdinand is drowned?

  SEBASTIAN

  He’s gone.

  ANTONIO

  Then tell me,

  Who’s the next heir of Naples?

  SEBASTIAN

  Claribel.

  ANTONIO

  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 i’th’ moon’s too slow—till new-born 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 is prologue, what to come

  In yours and my discharge.

  SEBASTIAN

  What stuff is this? How say you?

  ‘Tis true my brother’s daughter’s Queen of Tunis;

  So is she heir of Naples; ’twixt which regions

  There is some space.

  ANTONIO

  A space whose every cubit

  Seems to cry out ‘How shall that Claribel

  Measure us back to Naples? Keep in Tunis,

  And let Sebastian wake.’ Say this were death

  That now hath seized them; why, they were no worse

  Than now they are. There be that can rule Naples

  As well as he that sleeps, lords that can prate

  As amply and unnecessarily

  As this Gonzalo; I myself could make

  A chough of as deep chat. O, that you bore

  The mind that I do, what a sleep were this

  For your advancement! Do you understand me?

  SEBASTIAN

  Methinks I do.

  ANTONIO

  And how does your content

  Tender your own good fortune?

  SEBASTIAN

  I remember

  You did supplant your brother Prospero.

  ANTONIO

  True;

  And look how well my garments sit upon me,

  Much feater than before. My brother’s servants

  Were then my fellows; now they are my men.

  SEBASTIAN But for your conscience.

  ANTONIO

  Ay, sir, where lies that? If ‘twere a kibe

  ’Twould put me to my slipper; but I feel not

  This deity in my bosom. Twenty consciences

  That stand ’twixt me and Milan, candied be they,

  And melt ere they 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; whiles you, doing thus,

  To the perpetual wink for aye might put

  This ancient morsel, this Sir Prudence, who

  Should not upbraid our course. For all the rest,

  They’ll take suggestion as a cat laps milk;

  They’ll tell the clock to any business that

  We say befits the hour.

  SEBASTIAN

  Thy case, dear friend,

  Shall be my precedent. As thou got’st Milan,

  I’ll come by Naples. Draw thy sword. One stroke

  Shall free thee from the tribute which thou payest,

 

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