Imágenes de páginas



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

Gonzalo, an honest old Counsel-

CALIBAN, à savage and deformed

TRINCULO, a Jester.

STEPTANO, a drunken Butler,
Master of a Ship.
MIRANDA, Daughter to Prospero.
ARIEL, an airy Spirit.


by Spirits. Reapers, Other Spirits attending on Proga



SCENE-A ship at Sea : an island.

SCENE I. On a ship at sea : a tempestuous noise of thunder

and lightning heard.
Enter a Ship-Master and a Boatswain.
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. 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, GON

ZALO, and others. Alon. Good boatswain, have care. Where's the master ? Play the men.

11 Boats. I pray now, keep below. Ant. Where is the master, boatswain ?

Boats. Do you not hear him ? You mar our labor : keep your cabins : you do assist the storm.

Gon. Nay, good, be patient.

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. 21

Boats. None that I more love than myself. You are a 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 hearts! Out of our way, I say.

(Erit. 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 little advantage. If he be not born to be hanged, our case is miserable.

[Ereunt. Re-enter Boatswain. Boats. Down with the topmast ! yare! lower, lower! Bring her to try with main-course. (A cry within.] A plaguo upon this howling ! they are louder than the weather 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 ! Boats. Work you then.

Ant. Hang, cur! hang, you whoreson, insolent noisemaker! 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 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 ?

Gon. The king and prince at prayers ! let's assist them,
For our case is as theirs.

I'm out of patience. Ant. We are merely cheated of our lives by drunkards :


This wide-chapp'd rascal-would thou mightst lie drown

ing The washing of ten tides! Gon.

He'll be hang'd 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 !”]
Ant. Let's all sink with the king.
Seb. Let's take leave of him. [Exeunt Ant. and Scb.

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 dry death.

[Exeunt. SCENE II. The island. Before PROSPERO's cell,

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,
Dashes the fire out. O, I have suffered
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 beart. Poor souls, they perish'd.
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.

Be collected :
No more amazement: tell your piteous heart
There's no harm done.

0, woe the day ! Pros.

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
Than Prospero, master of a full poor cell,
And thy no greater father.

More to know
Did never meddle with my thoughts.

'Tis time I should inform thee farther. Lend thy hand,

20 So :


And pluck my magic garment from me.

[Lays down his mantle. 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 ordered that there is no soulNo, not so much perdition as an hair

30 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.

You have often
Begun to tell me what I am, but stopp'd
And left me to a bootless inquisition,
Concluding “ Stay: not yet.

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 ?
I do not think thou canst, for then thou wast not
Out three years old.

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.

'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?

Pro8. Thou hadst, and more, Miranda. But how is it That this lives in thy mind? What seest thou else In the dark backward and abysm of time?

If thou remember'st aught ere thou camest here,
How thou camest here thou mayst.

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.

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 thou his only heir
And princess no worse issued.

O the heavens !
What foul play had we, that we came from thence ! 60
Or blessed was't did?


Both, both, my girl :
Ey foul play, as thou say'st, were we leaved thence,
But blessedly holp hither.

0, my heart bleeds
To think o' the teen that I have turn'd you to,
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 thyself
Of all the world I loved and to him put
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,
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 ?

Sir, most heedfully.
Pros. Being once perfected how to grant suits,
How to deny them, who to advance and who

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
To what tune pleased his car : that now he was
The ivy which had hid my princely trunk,
And suck'i my verdure out on't. Thou attend'st not.

Mir. O, good sir, I do.


pray thee, mark me. I, thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicated To closeness and the bettering of my mind

90 With that which, but being so retired, O'er-prized all popular rate, in my false brother Awaked an evil nature ; and my trust, Line a good parent, did beget of him 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 + Who having into truth, by telling of it,

100 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,

« AnteriorContinuar »