You more invest it! ebbing men, indeed,
Moft often do fo near the bottom run,
By their own fear, or floth.

Seb. Pr'ythee, fay on:

The fetting of thine eye and cheek proclaim
A matter from thee; and a birth, indeed,
Which throes thee much to yield.

Ant. Why then thus, fir:

Although this lord of weak remembrance; this,
Who fhall be of as little memory

When he is earth'd, hath here almost persuaded
(For he'as a spirit of perfuafion, only
Profeffes to perfuade) the king, his son's alive;
'Tis as impoffible that he's undrown'd,
As he that fleeps here, fwims.

Seb. I have no hope

That he's undrown'd.

Ant. O, out of that no hope,

What great hope have you? no hope, that way, is Another way fo high an hope, that even

Ambition cannot pierce a wink beyond,

But drops difcovery there. Will you grant, with me, That Ferdinand is drown'd?

Seb. He's gone.

Ant. Then, tell me,

Who's the next heir of Naples?

Seb. Claribel.

Ant. She that is queen of Tunis; fhe that dwells
Ten leagues beyond man's life; fhe that from Naples
Can have no note, unless the fun were poft,
(The man i' th' moon's too flow) 'till new-born chins
Be rough and razorable; fhe from whom

We were fea-fwallow'd; though fome, cast again,
May by that destiny perform an act,

Whereof, what's past is prologue, what to come

• No advices by letter.

Is yours, and my discharge.

Seb. What ftuff is this? how fay you?

'Tis true, my brother's daughter's queen of Tunis, So is the heir of Naples; 'twixt which regions There is some space.

Ant. A fpace whose ev'ry cubit

Seems to cry out, how fhalt thou, Claribel,
Measure it back to Naples? Keep in Tunis,

And let Sebaftian wake. Say, this were death

That now hath feiz'd them, why, they were no worse
Than now they are: there be that can rule Naples
As well as he that fleeps; lords that can prate

As amply, and unneceffarily,

As this Gonzalo; I myself could make

A chough of as deep chat. O, that

you bore

The mind that I do; what a fleep were this

For your advancement! do you understand me?
Seb. Methinks, I do.

Ant. And how does your content

Tender your own good fortune?

Seb. I remember,

You did fupplant your brother Profpero.
Ant. True:

And, look, how well my garments fit upon me,
Much feater than before. My brother's fervants
Were then my fellows, now they are my men.
Seb. But, for confcience
your

Ant. Ay, fir; where lyes that?

If 'twere a kibe, 'twould put me to my flipper:
But I feel not this deity in my bofom.

Ten confciences that ftood 'twixt me and Milan,
Candy'd were they, wou'd melt ere they molested.
Here lyes your brother,

No better than the earth he lyes upon,

If he were that which now he's like, that's dead;
Whom I with this obedient fteel, three inches of it,

VOL. I.

Can lay to bed for ever; you, doing thus,
To the perpetual wink for aye might put
This ancient morfel, this fir Prudence, who
Should not upbraid our courfe. For all the reft,
They'll take fuggeftion, as a cat laps milk;
They'll tell the clock to any business that
We fay befits the hour.

Seb. Thy cafe, dear friend,

Shall be my precedent: as thou got'ft Milan,
I'll come by Naples. Draw thy fword; one ftroke
Shall free thee from the tribute which thou pay'ft,
And I the king fhall love thee.

Ant. Draw together:

And when I rear my hand, do you the like
To fall it on Gonzalo.

Seb. But one word.

Enter Ariel with mufick and fong.

Ari. My mafter through his art forefees the danger That you, his friend, are in; and fends me forth

(For elfe his project dies) to keep you living.

[Sings in Gonzalo's ear.

While you here do fnoaring lye,
Open-ey'd confpiracy

His time doth take:

If of life you keep a care,

Shake off lumber, and beware.

Awake! awake!

Ant. Then let us both be fudden.

Gon. Now, good angels preferve the king!

[They awake.

Alon. Why, how now, ho? awake! why are you drawn? Wherefore this ghaftly looking?

Gon. What's the matter?

Seb. While we stood here fecuring your repose, Ev'n now we heard a hollow burft of bellowing

Like bulls, or rather lions; did't not wake you?

1

It ftrook mine ear moft terribly.

Alon. I heard nothing.

Ant. O, 'twas a din to fright a monster's ear;
To make an earthquake: fure, it was the roar
Of a whole herd of lions.

Alon. Heard you this?

Gon. Upon mine honour, fir, I heard a humming,
And that a strange one too, which did awake me.
I fhak'd you, fir, and cry'd; as mine eyes open'd,
I faw their weapons drawn: there was a noise,
That's verity. 'Tis best we ftand on guard;

Or that we quit this place: let's draw our weapons.

Alon. Lead off this ground, and let's make further search

For my poor fon.

Gon. Heav'ns keep him from these beasts!

For he is, fure, i' th' ifland.

Alon. Lead away.

Ari. Profpero my lord fhall know what I have done.
So, king, go fafely on to feek thy fon.

[Exeunt

Changes to another part of the island.

Enter Caliban with a burden of wood: a noife of thunder heard,

Cal.

A

LL the infections that the fun fucks up

From bogs, fens, flats, on Profper fall, and make hini

By inch-meal a disease! His fpirits hear me,

And yet I needs must curfe. But they'll not pinch,
Fright me with urchin fhews, pitch me i' th' mire,
Nor lead me, like a fire-brand, in the dark
Out of my way, unless he bid 'em; but
For every trifle are they set upon me.
Sometime like apes, that moe and chatter at me,
And after bite me; then like hedge-hogs, which

Lye tumbling in my bare-foot-way, and mount
Their pricks at my foot-fall; fometime am I
All wound with adders, who with cloven tongues
Do hifs me into madness. Lo! now! lo!

Enter Trinculo.

Here comes a fp'rit of his now to torment me,
For bringing wood in flowly. I'll fall flat;
Perchance, he will not mind me.

Trin. Here's neither bush nor fhrub to bear off any weather at all, and another ftorm brewing; I hear it fing i' th' wind: yond same black cloud, yond huge one, looks like a foul bombard that would fhed his liquor. If it should thunder as it did before, I know not where to hide my head: yond fame cloud cannot chuse but fall by pailfuls-What have we here? a man or a fish? dead or alive? a fish; he smells like a fish: a very ancient and fishlike smell. A kind of, not of the newest, Poor-John: a strange fish! Were I in England now, as once I was, and had but this fish painted, not an holyday-fool there but would give a piece of filver. There would this monfter make a man; any strange beaft there makes a man: when they will not give a doit to relieve a lame beggar, they will lay out ten to fee a dead Indian. Legg'd like a man! and his fins like arms! Warm, o' my troth! I do now let loose my opinion, hold it no longer; this is no fifh, but an islander that hath lately fuffer'd by a thunder-bolt. Alas! the ftorm is come again. My best way is to creep under his gabardine: there is no other shelter hereabout; mifery acquaints a man with ftrange bed-fellows: I will here fhrowd 'till the dregs of the storm be past.

SCENE III.

Enter Stephano finging.

Ste. I fhall no more to fea, to fea, bere fhall I die a-fbore. This is a very scurvy tune to fing at a man's funeral: well, here's my comfort.

[Drinks.