The Tempest (2010) - full transcript
- Hello, I'm Antoni Cimolino,
artistic director of the Stratford Festival,
and it's my pleasure to welcome you
to this live viewing party.
Tonight, we're showing the film
of our 2010 production of "The Tempest,"
directed by Des McAnuff, and starring the incomparable,
Christopher Plummer, as Prospero.
It's the last play that Shakespeare wrote on his own,
though, he did collaborate on a couple of other later ones.
And in many ways, it's his culminating tribute to the art
that made him wealthy in his lifetime
and uniquely famous in ours.
Prospero is the master magician at the heart of the play,
and directs and stage manages his own drama
of revenge and reconciliation.
"My so potent art," he calls it at one point,
and later renouncing that same art as, "This rough magic."
There's some pretty awesome stage magic, though,
to be seen in this production.
So, see if you can figure out how some of it's done.
Like "Romeo and Juliet," a much earlier play,
"The Tempest" is about an older generation
that has made a mess of things,
and a brave new world of hope
represented by the new generation.
And maybe it's doubly hopeful
that in this last great masterpiece of Shakespeare,
he opted for a much happier ending.
If you enjoy tonight's film,
I hope you'll join Strat Fest at home
to watch more films on our library,
plus new series and digital events
that we'll be rolling out all winter long.
One of the events I'm most excited about
is the international book launch
of all the sonnets of Shakespeare,
a groundbreaking new study
by world-renowned Shakespeare scholars,
Stanley Wells and Paul Edmondson.
My conversation with them will be our viewing party
on December 17th.
For tonight, here's a tantalizing preview performance
of one of Shakespeare's sonnets.
(upbeat music)
- Thus can my love excuse the slow offense
of my dull bearer, when from thee I speed.
From where thou art, why should I haste me thence?
Till I return, of posting there is no need.
Oh, what excuse will my poor beast then find,
when swift extremity can seem but slow?
Then should I spur, though mounted on the wind,
in winged speed no motion shall I know.
Then can no horse with my desire keep pace.
Therefore desire of perfect love being made
shall reign no dull flesh in his fiery race.
But love, for love, thus shall excuse my jade.
Since from thee going he went willful slow,
towards thee I'll run, and give him leave to go.
- Join Start Fest at home,
to be part of the international book launch
of all the sonnets of Shakespeare,
and to be the first audience
for much more content all winter long.
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Becoming a YouTube subscriber won't cost you a cent.
Now, as a prelude to tonight's film of "The Tempest,"
here's a pre-show talk with director, Des McAnuff,
and his Prospero, Christopher Plummer.
Then it's off to that enchanted island
of marvels and magical creatures,
where old enemies are about to be confronted,
and young lovers are about to bring new hope into the world.
Thank you for joining us.
- All my life I have been mad, passionate for islands.
I grew up in Senneville, Quebec
on the Lake of Two Mountains.
My mum's best lady friend owned a beautiful island
just across from us.
I spent most of my childhood on that island.
I used to sneak over and walk around or I'd play tennis
and I just would radiate at the wonder of an island.
It was an escape and it spoke to you
and we even had conversations.
And then when I was old enough
to read Shakespeare's Tempest, it all fell into place.
The island was Prospero's imagination.
- I think the most important thing
about the island, about Prospero's island,
which is really Caliban's island,
is that the island is not just a literal place.
The island is a mirror and it reflects back
the things that the characters are saying
for Antonio and Sebastian, it's desolate,
it's a rather desperate place.
For Gonzalo, it's Utopia.
Our island is basically a magic circle.
It's Prospero's magic circle.
And it's a disk that sometimes spins and sometimes elevates.
And it's actually very austere.
The Island really comes to life,
well, certainly in the characters
in those marvelous performances,
Julyana Soelistyo and Tim Stickney
and Vickery and Dion Johnstone,
this wonderful task, Trish Lindstrom.
But I think mainly comes to life
in the imaginations of the audience.
It really comes to life in the eyes of the characters
and that's the most important image
a stage director can create.
It's not the scenery, it's the actors are conjurers
and it's what they see and hear and smell
that really brings the play to life for the audience.
- Blow till thou burst thy wind, if room enough!
Good Boatswain, have care.
Where's the Master?
Play the men.
- I pray now, keep below.
- Where is the Master, Boatswain?
- Do you not hear him?
You mar our labor.
Keep your cabins.
You do assist the storm.
(ocean wave sounds)
- Nay, good, be patient.
- When the sea is, hence.
What cares these roarers for the name of king!
To cabin!
Silence!
Trouble us not!
- Good, yet remember whom thou hast aboard.
- Not that I love more dearly than myself.
- During the Tempest, you don't need any research.
The writing of Shakespeare and the rhythm of his verse
are the most freeing things you can have on the stage.
You must have the technique to be able to stretch the line
as he wrote it and you have to obey his rhythms.
And once you do, you're off, he's carried you with him.
- The thing that's interesting about the Tempest
is that it was written late in Shakespeare's career.
It's probably his last solo play
but the company spent a lot of time trying to move indoors
to eventually the Blackfriars theater, away from the globe
so that they could embrace certain elements
of spectacle and magic.
And obviously they could work in the winter months.
There were all kinds of advantages.
And around that time, as the 17th century started to unfold
there was a movement toward the mask,
the designer, Inigo Jones Robert Real's predecessor,
they were interested
in a sense new dimensions of stage magic.
So the great thing is that Shakespeare
is also not only a great dramatist, but a wonderful guide.
There's the magic of the Island itself
of Caliban and of Ariel and of the spirits.
And then there's Prospero's magic,
which is very much based on science.
The important thing is not to layer in more spectacle
than Shakespeare desires.
There's an image where Chris seems to be sitting in mid air,
with the staff he's sitting with mid irony
actually lifts his feet just before he descends floating.
And so there were gasps
and those had everything to do with Greg.
Greg Kramer was the magician
that we worked with on the Tempest.
And he made really a glorious contribution to the piece.
He worked very, very closely with Chris
and with the acting company
and gave me many choices as we went through the text.
And the thing about Greg is that he was an actor as well.
So he truly understood the dynamics of the play
and what was required.
The opening of the film
where Ariel descends from the heavens
and picks up the magic book.
I think works marvelously well in the film
and was something that I was concerned about
because of course, in the theater
you see this little figure plummeting from above
and it takes your breath away.
And I was concerned
that we try to create that,
that same sort of surreal, energy.
And I think we did manage to do that.
(soft music)
(thunder roars)
- Father!
Father!
- So I think we were very true
to the most important dynamics in the piece.
And it's astonishing how it still applies.
It's about power, it's of course, a love story on one level,
but it's about power and betrayal and politics.
And it reminds me so much of the times we're in,
the treachery of Antonio and the ambition of Alonso,
and it could be Ottawa,
it could be Washington, sadly enough, on this very day.
- I think you wouldn't go to Shakespeare to be comforted.
You would go to him to be entertained
and to forget your woes.
This is what he would say, I think.
He never does that in his place which is so extraordinary.
He never has his characters be sorry for themselves.
He won't allow it.
And even Hamlet is quite sincere
and wonderful when he says that simple line,
the rest is silence.
What could be a more simple and extraordinary phrase?
It's more modern than anything we say today.
- There was a wonderful moment in the Tempest.
Ariel basically is talking about the torture
of the Lords of Alonso and everything
that Prospero's put them through.
Ariel says, if you could behold them,
they're so tortured that,
you would feel this tender affection.
And Prospero says, "Dust thou think so, spirit?"
Ariel says, "Mine would, were I human."
And there's a pause, a Christopher Plummer pause
and he says, "And mine shall."
And in that little moment, that pause,
the entire story shifts
and he's not sure what he's going to do with those Lords,
those betrayers until that very moment.
And it happens in that gap.
- 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 termed, 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 them
that if you now beheld them
your affections would become tender.
- Dost I 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, we kindly moved than thou art?
The rarer action is in virtue than in vengeance.
- When we were planning that scene,
I thought, well, I'll put Ariel close to him.
And he said,
"No, no, no, I think there needs to be some distance there."
And so I put them both on the fourth stage,
it's the simplest blocking you could ask one that states,
they're both sitting on the four stage,
maybe, 10, 15 feet apart.
And when she says that, "Mine would, sir, were I human,"
he just cocks his head.
And again, that's this explosion dramatically.
And when I first saw him do it
which came very much from Chris, I shed tears.
I mean, I've thought of Chris for many years
as the great actor of of not just as generation,
but of our time.
And I did get work with Amanda Plummer,
Chris's daughter many years ago.
She actually did Juliet for me.
And so I kinda felt
like I was at least a distant cousin
when we started actually working together.
This was absolutely your dream.
And I still, to this day, when we meet,
I'm always trying to get Chris to give me advice
about just recently seen particular films
and Eisenstein, I didn't know,
the work of the British director Carol Reed and so on.
And so it's been a joyous collaboration.
It's also rare in life, we make, we make most of our friends
when we're in school.
It seems to me those are the friendships most.
So to make a friend and I would have been in my late forties
to make a close friend at that stage is truly a blessing.
- Yeah, wonderful.
Absolutely and all of.
What's your name? - Ernie.
(both laugh)
- That's great.
And he's such a passionate director, he knows about music,
he knows about poetry and he knows about modern theater.
He knows a lot with an over spill of rock
thrown in every now and then to great success,
of course, as we know.
And I was amazed how versatile he is as a director.
He can be as real today
and as real back in the Elizabethan era as possible.
- This was a great process of discovery in general.
I think that the thing that's exciting
about these captures of productions
is that it is kind of a new art form.
One is making a film, absolutely.
But there's also a strong dimension
where you're capturing an event.
You're documenting an event.
We had a terrific team, Barry Avrich,
our illustrious producer, Sheila O'Brian as well
as a whole assortment of other technicians
and talented artisans.
So I think I was pretty confident with the team
but I've gotta say there's also a wonderful,
I don't wanna say random,
but there's a kind of a general approach to,
when you have so many angles
you don't have to make mammoth adjustments to the staging.
The cameras were really keeping up with the staging.
And when we chose positions, we had that very much in mind.
We didn't want to ruin the performance
for the people that were actually in the room.
- So your audience themselves extremely well.
That audience is so sort of informed
and we were lucky to have them out there
and they did not distract one little bit.
- It is live theater
and they're very much a part of the experience.
So we tried to choose positions
that weren't incredibly intrusive.
- Did you include them in some of the room?
The audience reaction, I remember, that was good.
- You can't see them and it's occasional and generally
they're somewhat faded in the background.
- Yeah.
- But it's great because I think it reminds the viewer
that this is a live performance.
- A live performance.
- And it's a different art form than cinema.
- In some cases, of course,
it really belongs to the theater.
And that's when I get a little uptight
because I think we should honor the old fashioned thing
of the 1800 people who paid their money
and the style with which we play because of that
- On a movie you're basically story boarding,
you're doing your shot list,
you're coming in with a plan,
that's mainly focused on one camera.
Maybe if you're Ridley Scott, you're shooting with four,
but most of the time you're assembling actors,
they're coming and going.
You're putting costumes on for that particular scene.
And you're filming in byte-sized chunks.
Only Alfred Hitchcock got to shoot in order.
And with this, it's a different thing.
You've got nine cameras.
You're basically getting as much coverage
as you possibly can,
collecting this raw material for editorial.
The thing that's most similar is the editorial process.
And I had a great post-production team on this.
And so that's the part of it's that's most similar
I think from making a film.
The thing that's profoundly different
from actually making a motion picture
is that so much of the work has already been done.
Directing is really about two things, mainly,
it's about storytelling and performance.
All of that work had already been accomplished.
The piece was blocked, there were costumes, it was lit.
And while one has to make adjustments for the camera
with these extraordinary digital cameras,
those adjustments are relatively minor.
And ultimately it seems to me that you live and die
based on the quality of the production.
I think when seeing the films, I think you would feel
that there was a truthful representation of the production.
And so that was the thing that was most important to me.
You can't see every transition of course,
the way you can in the theater.
So we would often follow the actors,
or we would make those transitions work in a different way.
And that you're not necessarily celebrating the spectacle
in the same way.
Nonetheless, I think just emotionally and intellectually
the films are very true to the productions.
And I had the benefit of working
with just tremendous people.
And in a sense that was an extension of the collaboration
that we all enjoy in the theater.
And perhaps this is simply, director ego
but I had so much confidence because of George Bernard Shaw
and William Shakespeare first and foremost,
but because of of Christopher Plummer.
So I did feel like this was something
that was really worthwhile.
- In a very different and rather vulgar way,
you think it's your last job.
(laughs)
No revels now are ended, but then you say to yourself,
down the line a little bit, it's,
"Now my charms are all o'erthrown."
I'm not going to over throw my charms,
let me play other parts, it's not the end.
'Cause most people think that once you've played
King of the year and prosper, that's it.
There's no other great art.
Well, wrong. I've just finished playing Tolstoy,
Kaiser Wilhelm and J Paul Getty.
I mean, now I'm going on forever.
It's how old need you be to play Prospero?
Well, he's not old.
I mean, I felt suspended.
It's beautiful because he's just as young
when the curtain goes down
as he is when the curtain goes up, it's an ageless part.
Absolutely ageless.
Fortunately, if you're true to yourself
you could wear a suit or a bikini or whatever you want.
And you'd still be believed if you are honest and true
it doesn't matter, then what costume you wear.
But the costume is on its own a very influential thing.
And once you've put on the costume that you like,
for instance let's use that wonderful cloak
that Paul Tasmil designed for Prospero,
full of leaves, green seaweed and all sorts of stuff.
As a cloak, it was absolutely brilliant and lovely.
Once you put that on
it gives you an extra lift and it drives you forward.
So it's very, very valuable, the right sort of costume.
- At the end of the day it all has to be one thing,
the visuals, the text, the music,
there has to be a uniformity.
The thing that I love about the theater
is that I consider the whole stage, the canvas.
The theater is an art form
in itself beyond dramatic literature.
And of course the festival stage
is the perfect place to celebrate that.
- Now my charms are all o'erthrown.
And what strength I have is 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 pardoned 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 pardoned be.
Let your indulgence set me free.
Father! Father!
Boatswain!
Here, master. What cheers?
Good, speak to the mariners:
fall to't, yarely,
or we run ourselves aground.
Bestir, bestir.
Hey, my hearts!
Cheerly, 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!
Good Boatswain, have care.
Where's the master?
Play the men.
I pray now, keep below.
Where is the master, bos'n?
Do you not hear him? You mar our labour:
keep your cabins - you do assist the storm.
Nay, good, be patient.
When the sea is.
Hence!
What cares these roarers for the name of king?
To Cabin. Silence!
Trouble us not.
Good, yet remember whom thou hast aboard.
None that I more dearly 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.
Father! Father!
Cheerly, good hearts!
Out of our way, I say.
I have great comfort from this fellow.
Methinks he hath no drowning mark upon him;
his complexion is perfect gallows.
But if he be not born to be hanged,
our case is miserable.
Down with the topmast! Lower, lower!
Bring her to try with main-course.
A plague upon this howling!
They are louder than the weather or our office.
Yet again! What do you here?
Shall we give o'er and drown?
Have you a mind to sink?
A pox o' your throat, you bawling,
blasphemous, incharitable dog!
Work you, then.
Hang, cur, hang, you whoreson, insolent noisemaker!
We are less afraid to be drowned than thou art.
I'll warrant him from drowning;
though the ship were no stronger than a nutshell
and as leaky as an unstanched wench.
Lay her a-hold, a-hold!
set her two courses off to sea again; lay her off.
Father!
All lost! To prayers, to prayers! All lost!
What, must our mouths be cold?
The King and Prince at prayers!
Let's assist them, for our case is as theirs.
I'm out of patience.
We are merely cheated of our lives by drunkards.
This wide-chapp'd rascal-
would thou mightst lie drowning.
The washing of ten tides!
He'll be hang'd yet.
♪
Mercy on us!
'Farewell, my wife and children!'
'We split, we split, we split!'
Farewell my brother!
Let's all sink with the king.
Let's take leave of him.
Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea
for an acre of barren ground.
The wills above be done,
but I would fain die a dry death.
Father!
Oh Father!
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 heart -
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 swallowed
and the fraughting souls within her.
Be collected!
No more amazement.
Tell your piteous heart
there's no harm done.
O, woe the day!
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 from 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, and
pluck my magic garment from me.
So, so,
so,
have comfort.
The direful spectacle of the wreck,
that touched the very virtue of compassion in thee,
I have with such provision in mine art
so safely ordered that there is no soul-
No, not so much perdition as an hair
betid to any creature in the vessel
which thou heard'st cry,
which thou saw'st sink.
Wipe thou thine yes.
So lie there,
my art.
♪
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 hours now come; 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.
'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?
Thou hadst,
and more,
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?
Thy mother was a piece of virtue,
and she said thou wast my daughter;
And they father was Duke of Milan.
And his only heir and princess
no worse issued.
O the heavens!
What foul play had we,
that we came from thence?
Or blessed was't we did?
Both, both, my girl.
By foul play, as thou say'st,
were we heaved thence,
but blessedly holp hither.
O, my heart bleeds to think of the trouble
I have turn'd you to,
which is from my remembrance!
Please you, farther.
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 it was then through all the signories
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.
Oh! Thy false uncle-
Dost thou attend me?
Sir, most heedfully.
Thy false uncle - Once perfected
how to grant suits, how to deny them
New created the offices that were mine
set all heart i' the state 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.
O, good sir, I do.
I pray thee, mark me.
I, thus neglecting worldly ends,
all dedicated to closeness
and the bettering of my mind
in my false brother
awaked an evil nature,
and my trust, like 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 being lorded,
made such a sinner of his memory to credit his own lie,
he did believe he was indeed the duke,
dost thou hear?
Your tale, sir, would cure deafness.
Me, poor man, my library was dukedom large enough.
Of temporal royalties he thinks me now incapable;
conspires with King of Naples
to give him annual tribute, to him homage,
subject his coronet to his crown
and bend the dukedom yet unbowed -
alas, poor Milan!
- To most ignoble stooping.
O, the heavens!
Mark his condition and th' event;
then tell me if this might be a brother.
I should sin to think but nobly of my grandmother:
Good wombs have borne bad sons.
Good wombs have borne bad sons.
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
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 the gates of Milan,
and, i' the dead of darkness,
the ministers for the purpose hurried thence
me and thy crying self.
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.
Wherefore did they not that hour destroy us?
Well demanded, wench:
They durst not,
so dear the love
my people bore me,
in few, they hurried us aboard a bark,
bore us some leagues to sea;
where they prepared a rotten carcass of a butt,
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 to the winds
whose pity, sighing back again,
did us but loving wrong.
Alack, what trouble Was I then to you!
O, oh...
a cherubim thou wast
that did preserve me.
When I have deck'd the sea with drops full salt,
thou didst smile,
infused with a fortitude from heaven.
How came we ashore?
By Providence divine.
Some food we had and some fresh water
that a noble Neapolitan, Gonzalo,
out of his charity did give us,
with rich garments,
linens, stuffs and necessaries,
Which since have steaded much;
and of his gentleness,
knowing I loved my books,
he furnish'd me from mine own library
with volumes that I prize above my dukedom.
I might but ever see that man!
Ah.
Now I arise.
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 princes can
who have more time for vainer hours
and tutors not so careful.
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?
Ah.
Know thus far forth.
By accident most strange,
bountiful Fortune,
now my dear lady,
hath mine enemies
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:
Thou art inclined to sleep.
♪
'tis a good dulness,
give it way:
♪
I know thou canst not choose.
Come away, servant,
Come!
♪
I am ready now.
Approach, my Ariel, come.
All hail, great master!
Grave sir, hail!
I come to answer thy best pleasure,
be't to fly, to swim,
to dive into the fire,
to ride on the curled clouds,
to thy strong bidding task Ariel
and all her quality.
Spirit! Has thou perform'd
to point the tempest that I bade thee?
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'd divide and burn in many places-
on the topmast, the yards and bowsprit,
would I flame distinctly,
then meet and join.
Jove's lightnings,
the precursors of the dreadful thunder-claps,
more momentary and sight-outrunning were not;
the fire and cracks of sulphurous roaring
the most mighty Neptune seem to besiege
and make his bold waves tremble,
Yea, his dread trident shake.
My brave spirit!
Who was so firm, so constant,
that this coil would not infect his reason?
Not a soul but felt a fever of the mad,
and played 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.'
That's my spirit!
But was not this nigh shore?
Close by, my master.
But are they, Ariel, safe?
Not a hair perished.
On their sustaining garments not a blemish,
but fresher than before:
and as thou bad'st me,
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.
Of the king's ship, the mariners,
say how thou hast disposed
and all the rest o' the fleet.
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 Bermudas,
there she's hid:
The mariners all under hatches stowed,
who, with a charm joined to their suffer'd labour,
I have left asleep;
as for the rest o'th fleet which I dispersed,
they all have met again,
and are upon the Mediterranean flote,
bound sadly home for Naples,
supposing that they saw the king's ship wrecked,
and his great person perish.
Ariel, thy charge
exactly is perform'd: but there's more work.
Aye!
Aye? What is the time o'th day?
Past the mid season.
At least two glasses.
The time 'twixt six and now
must by us both be spent most preciously.
Is there more toil?
Uh-huh.
Since thou dost give me pains,
let me remember thee what thou hast promised,
which is not yet performed me.
How now? Moody?
What is't thou canst demand?
My liberty.
Before the time be out? No more!
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.
Dost thou forget from what a torment
I did free thee? - No.
Thou dost,
and think'st it much to tread the ooze
of the salt deep,
to run upon the sharp wind of the north,
to do me business in the veins o'th earth
when it is baked with frost.
I do not, sir.
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?
No, sir.
Thou hast. Where was she born?
Speak; tell me.
Sir, in Algiers.
O, was she so?
I must once in a month recount what thou hast been,
which thou forget'st.
O-la-la-la- la-la-la.
This damn'd witch Sycorax,
for mischiefs manifold and sorceries
too terrible to enter human hearing,
from Algiers. Thou know'st was banished -
for one thing she did they would not take her life.
Is not this true?
Ay, sir. Ay, sir.
This blue-eyed hag was hither brought with child
and here was left by th' sailors.
Thou, my slave,
as thou report'st thyself,
wast then her servant,
and for thou wast a spirit too delicate
to act her earthy and abhorred commands,
she did confine thee, into a cloven pine,
within which rift, imprisoned thou didst
painfully remain a dozen years
within which space she died and left thee there!
Oh-ho!
Thou best know'st what torment I did find thee in;
Thy groans did make wolves howl
and penetrate the breasts of ever angry bears -
it was a torment to lay upon the damn'd,
which Sycorax could not again undo:
it was mine art,
when I arrived and heard thee,
that made gape the pine
and let thee out.
I thank thee, master.
I thank thee, master.
If thou more murmur'st,
I will rend an oak and peg thee in his knotty entrails
till thou hast howled away twelve winters.
Pardon, master.
I will be correspondent to command
and do my spiriting gently.
Do so, and after two days
I will discharge thee.
That's my noble master!
What shall I do?
Say what: what shall I do?
Go make thyself like a nymph o'th sea:
be subject to no sight but thine and mine,
invisible to every eyeball else.
Go take this shape and hither come in't:
Go! Hence!
Ah-ah-ah-ah!
With diligence!
Awake, dear heart, awake!
Awake.
Thou hast slept well.
The strangest of your story put heaviness in me.
Shake it off. Come!
We'll visit Caliban my slave,
who never yields us kind answer.
'Tis a villain, sir, I do not love to look on.
Well he does make our fire.
and fetches us in wood
and serves in offices that profit us.
As tis,
we cannot miss him.
♪
What, ho,
slave!
Caliban!
Thou earth, thou!
Speak!
There's wood enough within.
Come forth.
There's other business for thee.
My quaint Ariel,
A word, a word, in thine ear.
My lord, it shall be done.
Come!
Tortoise, poisonous slave,
got by the devil himself upon thy wicked dam,
come forth, I say!
As wicked dew as e'er my mother brush'd
with raven's feather from unwholesome fen
drop on you both!
a south-west blow on ye
and blister you all o'er!
For this, be sure, tonight thou shall be pinched
as thick as honeycomb,
each pine more stinging
than bees that made 'em.
I must eat my dinner.
This island's mine
by Sycorax my mother,
which thou takest from me.
When thou camest first,
Thou strokedst me
and madest much of me,
wouldst give me Water with berries in't,
and teach me how to name the bigger light,
and how the less,
That burn by day and night:
and then I loved thee
And show'd thee all the qualities o' the isle,
The fresh springs, brine-pits,
barren place and fertile:
Cursed be I that did so!
All the charms Of Sycorax,
toads, beetles, bats,
light on you!
For I am all the subjects that you have,
Which first was mine own king:
and here you sty me In this hard rock,
whiles you do keep from me The rest o' the island.
Thou most lying slave,
Whom stripes may move, not kindness!
I have used thee,
Filth as thou art, with humane care,
and lodged thee In mine own cell,
where thou didst seek to violate The honour
of my child.
O ho, O ho!
would't had been done!
Thou didst prevent me;
I had peopled else this isle
with Calibans.
Abhorred slave,
Which any print of goodness wilt not take,
Being capable of all ill!
I pitied thee,
Took pains to make thee speak,
taught thee each hour One thing or other:
when thou didst not, savage,
Know thine own meaning,
but wouldst gabble like A thing most brutish,
I endow'd thy purposes With words
that made them known.
But thy vile race,
Though thou didst learn,
had that in't which good natures
Could not abide to be with;
therefore wast thou Deservedly confined
into this rock,
Who hadst deserved more than a prison.
You taught me language;
and my profit on't, is I know how to curse.
The red plague rid you For learning me your language!
Hag-seed, hence!
Fetch us in fuel, be quick,
thou'rt best to answer other business.
Shrug'st thou, malice?
I'll rack thee with old cramps,
fill all thy bones with aches,
make thee roar that beasts
shall tremble at thy din.
No, pray thee.
♪
I must obey.
His art is of such power,
it would control my dam's god, Setebos,
and make a vassal of him.
♪
♪ Come unto these yellow sands, ♪
♪ And then take hands: ♪
♪
♪ Courtsied when you have and kissed ♪
♪ The wild waves whist, ♪
♪
♪ Foot it featly here and there, ♪
♪ and sweet sprites bear the burden. ♪
♪ Hark, hark! ♪
Bow-wow.
♪ The watch-dogs bark! ♪
♪ Hark, hark! ♪
♪ I hear The strain of strutting chanticleer ♪
♪ chanticleer ♪
♪ Cry cock-a-diddle-dow. ♪
♪ Cock-a-diddle-dow. ♪
♪
Where should this music be?
In the air
or the earth?
It sounds no more:
and sure, it waits upon some
god o' the island.
Sitting on a bank,
weeping again the king my father's wreck,
this music crept by me upon the waters,
allaying both their fury and my passion
with its sweet air.
Thence I have follow'd it,
or it hath drawn me rather;
but tis gone.
♪
No, it begins again.
♪
♪ Full fathom five thy father lies; ♪
♪ Of his bones are coral made; ♪
♪
♪ Those are pearls that were his eyes: ♪
♪
♪ Nothing of him that doth fade ♪
♪
♪ Nothing of him that doth fade ♪
♪ But doth suffer a sea-change ♪
♪ Into something rich and strange. ♪
♪ Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell. ♪
♪ Ding dong. -ding dong.♪
♪ Ding dong. -ding dong.♪
♪ Hark! ♪
♪ now I hear them, ♪
♪ Ding-dong bell. ♪
♪
The ditty does remember my drowned father.
This is no mortal business,
nor no sound That the earth owes.
I hear it now above me.
The fringed curtains of thine eye advance
And say what thou seest yond.
What is't? - a spirit?
Lord, how it looks about!
Believe me, sir,
It carries a brave form.
But 'tis a spirit.
No, wench; it eats and sleeps
and hath such senses As we have,
such.
This gallant which thou seest Was in the wreck;
and but he's something stained with grief
that's beauty's canker,
thou mightst call him A goodly person:
he hath lost his fellows and strays about to find them.
I might call him A thing divine,
for nothing natural I ever saw so noble.
It goes on, I see, As my soul prompts it.
Hm?
Mm? No, no -
♪
Most sure, the goddess
On whom these airs attend!
Vouchsafe my prayer May know
if you remain upon this island;
And that you will some good instruction give
How I may bear me here:
my prime request,
Which I do last pronounce, is,
O you wonder!
If you be maid or no?
No wonder, sir; But certainly a maid.
My language! Heavens!
I am the best of them that speak this speech,
Were I but where 'tis spoken.
How? The best?
What wert thou, if the King of Naples heard thee?
A single thing, as I am now,
that wonders To hear thee speak of Naples.
He does hear me.
And that he does, I weep.
Myself am Naples.
Ah.
who with mine eyes, never since at ebb,
beheld the King my father wrecked.
Alack, for mercy!
At the first sight They have changed eyes.
Delicate Ariel,
I'll set thee free for this.
One word, sir;
I fear you have done yourself some wrong:
a word.
Why speaks my father so ungently?
This Is the third man that e'er I saw,
the first that e'er I sigh'd for.
Pity move my father to be inclined my way!
O, if a virgin, And your affection not gone forth,
I'll make you the queen of Naples.
They are both in either's powers;
but this swift business I must uneasy make,
lest too light winning Make the prize light.
One word, good sir!
thou dost here usurp The name thou owest not;
and hast put thyself upon this island as a spy,
to win it from me, the lord on't.
No, as I am a man.
There's nothing ill can dwell in such a temple:
If the ill spirit have so fair a house,
good things will strive to dwell with't.
Come Follow me.
Speak not you for him;
he's a traitor.
Come, I'll manacle thy neck and feet together:
Sea-water shalt thou drink;
thy food shall be The fresh-brook muscles,
wither'd roots and husks
Wherein the acorn cradled. Follow.
No; I will resist such entertainment
till mine enemy has more power.
O dear father,
Make not too rash a trial of him,
for He's gentle and not fearful.
What, I say - My foot my tutor?
Put thy sword up, traitor;
Which makest a show but darest not strike,
thy conscience Is so possess'd with guilt:
come from this posture,
For I can here disarm thee with this stick
And make thy weapon drop.
Beseech you, father.
Hang not on my garments.
Sir, have pity; I'll be his surety.
Silence!
What! An advocate for an imposter!
Hush! Ch-ch-ch-ch-ch!
Thou think'st there is no more such shapes as he,
Having seen but him and Caliban:
foolish wench!
To the most of men this is a Caliban
And they to him are angels.
My affections Are then most humble;
I have no ambition To see a goodlier man.
Come on; obey:
Thy nerves are in their infancy again
And have no vigour in them.
So they are;
My spirits, as in a dream,
are all bound up.
My father's loss, the weakness which I feel,
The wreck of all my friends,
nor this man's threats, To whom I am subdued,
are but light to me,
Might I but through my prison once a day
Behold this maid:
all corners else o' the earth
Let liberty make use of;
space enough Have I in such a prison.
Come on. Follow me!
Be of comfort;
My father's of a better nature, sir,
Than he appears by speech:
Oh come on!
Speak not for him.
It works.
Thou shalt be as free as mountain winds.
♪
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.
Prithee, peace.
He receives comfort like cold porridge.
Look Gonzalo's winding up the watch of his wit;
by and by it will strike.
Sir,--
One.One.
When every grief is entertain'd that's offer'd,
Comes to the entertainer-
A dollar.
Dolour comes to him, indeed:
you have spoken truer than you purposed.
You have taken it wiselier than I meant you should.
Therefore, my lord,--
Fie, what a spendthrift is he of his tongue!
I prithee, spare.
Well, I have done:
but yet,--
He will be talking.
Which, of he or Adrian, for a good wager,
first begins to crow?
The old cock. The cockerel.
Done.
Though this island seem to be desert,--
Ha, ha, ha! So, you're paid.
Uninhabitable and almost inaccessible,--
Yet,--Yet, --
He could not miss't.
It must needs be of subtle, tender
and delicate temperance.
Temperance was a delicate wench.
Ay, and a subtle;
as he most learnedly delivered.
The air breathes upon us here most sweetly.
As if it had lungs and rotten ones.
Or as 'twere perfumed by a fen.
Here is everything advantageous to life.
True; save means to live.
Of that there's none, or little.
How lush and lusty the grass looks!
How green!
The ground indeed is tawny.
With an eye of green in't.
He misses not much.
No; he doth but mistake the truth totally.
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.
'Twas a sweet marriage,
and we prosper well in our return.
Tunis was never before graced
with such a paragon to their queen.
Not since widow Dido's time.
'Widow Dido' said you?
She was of Carthage, not of Tunis.
This Tunis, sir, was Carthage.
Carthage?
I assure you, Carthage.
What impossible matter will he make easy next?
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.
And the rarest that e'er came there.
Is not, sir, my doublet
as fresh as the first day I wore it?
I mean, in a sort.
That sort was well fished for.
When I wore it at your daughter's marriage?
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?
Sir, your son 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 swoln that met him;
his bold head 'Bove the contentious waves he kept,
and oar'd Himself with his good arms
in lusty stroke To the shore,
that o'er his wave-worn basis bow'd,
As stooping to relieve him:
I not doubt He came alive to land.
♪
No, no, he's gone.
Sir, you may thank yourself
for this great loss,
That would not bless our Europe with your daughter,
But rather lose her to an African;
Where she at least is banish'd from your eye,
Who hath cause to wet the grief on't.
Prithee, peace.
You were kneel'd to
and importuned otherwise By all of us,
and the fair soul herself
Weigh'd between loathness and obedience,
at Which end o' the beam should bow.
We have lost your son,
I fear, forever.
Milan and Naples have More widows in them
of this business' making
Than we bring men to comfort them:
The fault's your own.
So is the dear'st o' the loss.
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.
Very well.
And most surgeonly.
It is foul weather in us all, good sir,
When you are cloudy.
Foul weather?
Very foul.
Had I plantation of this isle, my lord,
-- He'ld sow't with nettle-seed.
Or docks, or mallows.
And were the king on't, what would I do?
'Scape being drunk for want of wine.
I' the 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, inheritance,
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;--
Yet he would be king on't.
The latter end of his commonwealth
forgets the beginning.
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 its own kind,
all foison,
all abundance,
To feed my innocent people.
No marrying 'mong his subjects?
None, man; all idle:
whores and knaves.
I would with such perfection govern, sir,
To excel the golden age.
Save his majesty!
Long live Gonzalo!
And,--do you mark me, sir?
Prithee, no more: thou dost talk nothing to me.
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.
'Twas you we laughed at.
Who in this kind of merry fooling am nothing to you:
so you may continue and laugh at nothing still.
What a blow was there given!
An it had not fallen flat-long.
You are gentlemen of brave metal;
you would lift the moon out of her sphere,
if she would continue in it five weeks without changing.
Nay, good my lord, be not angry.
No, I warrant you;
I will not adventure my
discretion so weakly.
Will you...
laugh me asleep,
for I am very...
♪
heavy?
Go sleep, and hear us.
What, all so soon asleep!
I wish mine eyes would, with themselves,
shut up my thoughts:
♪
I find they are inclined to do so.
Please you, sir, Do not omit the heavy offer of it:
It seldom visits sorrow;
when it doth, It is a comforter.
We two, my lord, will guard your person
while you take your rest, And watch your safety.
Thank you.
Wondrous heavy.
What a strange drowsiness possesses them!
It is the quality o' the climate.
Why Doth it not then our eyelids sink?
I find not Myself disposed to sleep.
Nor I;
my spirits are nimble.
They fell together all,
as by consent; They dropp'd,
as by a thunder-stroke.
What might, Worthy Sebastian?
O, what might?
No more:--
And yet methinks I see it in thy face,
What thou shouldst be:
the occasion speaks thee, and my strong imagination
sees a crown Dropping upon thy head.
What, art thou waking?
Do you not hear me speak?
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.
Noble Sebastian,
Thou let'st thy fortune sleep-
die, rather; wink'st Whiles thou art waking.
Thou dost snore distinctly;
There's meaning in thy snores.
I am more serious than my custom:
you Must be so too, if heed me;
which to do Trebles thee o'er.
Well, I am standing water.
I'll teach you how to flow.
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.
Thus, sir:
Although this lord of weak remembrance,
this, Who shall be of as little memory
When he is earth'd,
hath here almost persuaded,--
the King his son's alive,
'Tis as impossible that he's undrowned
as he that sleeps here swims.
I have no hope That he's undrown'd.
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,
Will you grant with me That Ferdinand is drown'd?
He's gone.
Then, tell me, Who's the next heir of Naples?
His sister, Claribel.
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' the moon's too slow-
till new-born chins Be rough and razorable;
she that-from whom we all were sea-swallow'd,
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.
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.
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;
O, that you bore The mind that I do!
what a sleep were this For your advancement!
Do you understand me?
Methinks I do.
And how does your content Tender your own good fortune?
I remember You did supplant your brother Prospero.
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.
But, for your conscience?
Ay, sir; where lies that?
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 put to bed forever;
whiles you, doing thus,
To the perpetual wink might put
This ancient morsel, this Sir Prudence,
who Should not upbraid our course.
For the rest,
They'll take suggestion as a cat laps milk;
They'll tell the clock to any business
We say befits the hour.
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;
And I the king shall love thee.
Draw together;
♪
And when I rear my hand, do you the like,
To fall it on Gonzalo.
O, but one word.
My master through his art
foresees the danger That you, his friend, are in;
and sends me forth- For else his project dies-
to keep them living.
♪ While you here do snoring lie, ♪
♪ Open-eyed conspiracy His time doth take. ♪
♪ If of life you keep a care, ♪
♪ Shake off slumber, and beware: ♪
♪ Awake, awake! ♪
Then let us both be sudden.
Now, good angels Preserve the king.
Why, how now? Awake!
Why are you drawn?
Wherefore this ghastly looking?
What's the matter?
Whiles we stood here securing your repose,
Even now,
we heard a hollow burst of bellowing Like bulls,
or rather lions: did't not wake you?
It struck mine ear most terribly.
I heard nothing.
O, 'twas a din to fright a monster's ear,
To make an earthquake!
sure, it was the roar Of a whole herd of lions.
Heard you this, Gonzalo?
Upon mine honour, sir, I heard a humming,
And that a strange one too,
which did awake me:
I shaked you, sir, and cried:
as mine eyes open'd,
I saw their weapons drawn:
there was a noise, That's verily.
'Tis best we stand upon our guard,
Or that we quit this place;
let's draw our weapons.
♪
Lead off this ground;
and let's make further search For my poor son.
Heavens keep him from these beasts!
For he is, sure, i' the island.
Lead away.
Prospero my lord
shall know what I have done:
So, king, go safely on to seek thy son.
All the infections
that the sun sucks up
From bogs, fens, flats,
on Prosper fall
and make him By inch-meal a disease!
His spirits hear me
And yet I needs must curse.
But they'll nor pinch,
Fright me with urchin-shows,
pitch me i' the mire,
Nor lead me, like a firebrand,
in the dark Out of my way,
unless he bid 'em;
but For every trifle are they set upon me;
Sometime like apes that mow and chatter at me
And after bite me,
then like hedgehogs
which Lie tumbling in my barefoot way
and mount Their pricks at my footfall;
sometime am I All wound with adders
who with cloven tongues
Do hiss me into madness.
Ow!
Lo, no lo -
Here comes another spirit of his,
and to torment me For bringing wood in slowly.
I'll fall flat;
Perchance he will not mind me.
Here's neither bush nor shrub,
to bear off any weather at all,
and another storm brewing;
I hear it sing i' the wind:
yond same black cloud,
yond huge one,
looks like a foul bombard
that would shed his liquor.
If it should thunder as it did before,
I know not where to hide my head:
yond same cloud cannot choose
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 fish-like smell;
A strange fish.
Were I in England now,
as once I was,
and had but this fish painted,
not a holiday fool there but would give a piece of silver:
there would this monster make a man;
any strange beast there makes a man:
when they will not give a pence
to relieve a lame beggar,
they will lazy out ten to see a dead Indian.
Legged like a man
and his fins like arms!
He's warm!
O'my troth
I do now let loose my opinion; hold it no longer:
this is no fish,
but an islander, that hath lately suffered
by a thunderbolt.
Alas, the storm is come again!
My best way is to creep under his gaberdine;
there is no other shelter hereabouts:
misery acquaints a man with strange bed-fellows.
I will here shroud till the dregs of the storm be past.
♪I shall no more to sea, to sea, ♪
♪ Here shall I die ashore- ♪
This is a very scurvy tune to sing at a man's funeral:
well, here's my comfort.
♪ The master, the swabber, the boatswain and I, ♪
♪ The gunner and his mate ♪
♪ Loved Mall, Meg and Marian and Margery, ♪
♪ But none of us cared for Kate; ♪
♪ For she had a tongue with a tang, ♪
♪ Would cry to a sailor, ♪
♪ Go hang! ♪
♪ She loved not the savour of tar nor of pitch, ♪
♪ Yet a tailor might scratch her ♪
♪ where'er she did itch: ♪
♪ Well to sea, boys, ♪
♪ and let her go hang! ♪
This is a scurvy tune too:
but here's my comfort.
Do not torment me:
Oh!
What's the matter?
Have we devils here?
Do you put tricks upon's with
savages and men of Ind, ha?
I have not scaped drowning to be afeard now of your...
Four legs;
for it hath been said,
As proper a man as ever went on... four legs
cannot make him give ground;
and it shall be said so again
while Stephano breathes at's nostrils.
The spirit torments me; Oh!
This is some monster of the isle with four legs,
who hath got, as I take it,
an ague.
Well how the devil should he learn our language?
I will give him some relief,
if it be but for that.
if I can recover him and keep him tame
and get to Naples with him,
he's a present fit for any emperor
that ever trod on neat's leather.
Do not torment me, prithee;
I'll bring my wood home faster.
He's in his fit now
and does not talk after the wisest.
He shall taste of my bottle:
if he have never drunk wine afore
will go near to remove his fit.
If I can recover him and keep him tame,
Oh he shall pay for him that hath him, ay
and that soundly.
Thou dost me yet but little hurt;
thou wilt anon,
I know it by thy trembling:
now Prosper works up thee.
Come on your ways;
open your mouth;
here is that which will give language to you, cat:
open your mouth;
this will shake your shaking, I can tell you.
Ay, and that soundly:
you cannot tell who's your friend:
open your chaps again.
I should know that voice:
it should be- but he is drowned;
and these are devils: O defend me!
Four legs and two voices:
it's a most delicate monster!
His forward voice now is to speak well of his friend;
his backward voice is to utter foul speeches
and to detract.
If all the wine in my bottle will recover him,
I will help his ague.
Come. Come on. There you go.
Amen!
I will pour some in thy other mouth.
Stephano!
Doth thy other mouth call me?
Mercy, mercy!
This is a devil, and no monster:
I will leave him;
I have no long spoon.
Stephano!
If thou beest Stephano,
touch me and speak to me:
for I am Trinculo-
be not afeard- thy good friend Trinculo.
If thou beest Trinculo, come forth:
I'll pull thee by...
the rounder legs:
if any be Trinculo's legs,
these be they.
Thou art very Trinculo indeed!
How camest thou to be
the turd of this moon-calf?
Can he vent Trinculos?
I took him to be killed with a thunder-stroke.
But art thou not drowned, Stephano?
I hope now thou art not drowned.
Is the storm overblown?
I hid me under the dead moon-calf's gaberdine
for fear of the storm.
But art thou living, Stephano?
O Stephano, two Neapolitans 'scaped!
Prithee, do not turn me about;
my stomach is not constant.
These be fine things,
an if they be not sprites.
That's a brave god
and bears celestial liquor.
I will kneel to him.
How didst thou 'scape?
How camest thou hither?
swear on this bottle how thou camest hither.
I escaped upon a butt of sack
which the sailors heaved o'erboard,
by this bottle;
I'll swear upon that bottle to be thy true subject;
for the liquor is not earthly.
Swear then how thou escapedst.
Swum ashore, man, like a duck:
I can swim like a duck, I'll be sworn.
Here, kiss the book.
Though thou canst swim like a duck,
thou art made like a goose.
O Stephano. hast any more of this?
The whole butt, man:
my cellar is in a rock by the sea-side
where my wine is hid.
How now, moon-calf!
how does thine ague?
Hast thou not dropp'd from heaven?
Ay, Out o' the moon, I do assurethee:
I was the man i' the moon when time was.
I have seen thee in her and
I do adore thee:
My mistress show'd me thee
and thy dog and thy bush.
Come on then, swear to that;
kiss the book:
Ah -
I will furnish it anon with new contents.
Swear -
By this good light, this is a very shallow monster!
I afeard of him! I'll show thee every fertile inch o' th' island;
And I will kiss thy foot:
I prithee, be my god.
By this light, a most perfidious drunken monster!
I'll kiss thy foot;
I'll swear myself thy subject.
Come on then; down, and swear.
A most scurvy monster!
I could find in my heart to beat him,--
Come, kiss.
But that the poor monster's in drink:
an abominable monster!
I'll show thee the best springs;
I'll pluck thee berries;
I'll fish for thee
and get thee wood enough.
A plague upon the tyrant that I serve!
I'll bear him no more sticks,
but follow thee,
Thou wondrous man.
I prithee, let me bring thee where crabs grow;
And I with my long nails
will dig thee pignuts;
Show thee a jay's nest and
instruct thee how To snare the nimble marmoset;
I'll bring thee To clustering filberts
and sometimes I'll get thee
Young scamels from the rock.
Wilt thou go with me?
I prithee, no more talking.
Lead the way.
Trinculo,
the King and all our company else being drowned
we will inherit here:
here; bear my bottle:
fellow Trinculo,
we'll fill him by and by again.
♪
♪ Farewell, ♪
♪ master, farewell. ♪
♪ Farewell... ♪
♪ Farewell master, ♪
♪ Farewell, farewell... ♪
Oh brave monster, lead the way.
♪
♪ No more dams I'll make for fish, ♪
♪ Nor fetch in firing, at requiring ♪
♪ Nor fetch in firing, at requiring ♪
♪ Nor scrape trenchering, nor wash dish ♪
♪ Nor scrape trenchering, nor wash dish ♪
♪ Ban, Ban, Ban Cal-Caliban ♪
♪ Ban, Ban, Ban Cal-Caliban ♪
♪ Has a new master - get a new man - ♪
♪ Has a new master - get a new man - ♪
♪ Freedom ♪
♪ drumming ♪
♪ Freedom ♪
♪ High day!♪
♪ High day!♪
♪ Freedom ♪
♪ Freedom ♪
♪ High day! High day!♪
♪ High day!♪
♪ Free-Free-Free- Dommmm! ♪
♪
There be some sports are painful,
and their labour Delight in them sets off:
some kinds of baseness Are nobly undergone
and most poor matters Point to rich ends.
This my mean task
would be as heavy to me as odious,
but the mistress which I serve
quickens what's dead
And makes my labours pleasures:
O, she is ten times more gentle
than her father's crabbed,
And he's composed of harshness.
I must remove Some thousands of these logs
and pile them up, upon a sore injunction:
my sweet mistress
Weeps when she sees me work,
and says, such baseness
Had never like executor.
I forget:
But these sweet thoughts do even refresh my labours,
Most busy lest, when I do it.
Alas, now, pray you,
Work not so hard:
I would the lightning had Burnt up those logs
that you are enjoin'd to pile!
Pray, set it down and rest you:
My father Is hard at study;
pray now, rest yourself;
He's safe for these three hours.
O most dear mistress,
The sun will set before I shall discharge
What I must strive to do.
If you'll sit down, I'll bear your logs the while:
pray, give me that;
I'll carry it to the pile.
No, precious creature;
I had rather crack my sinews,
break my back,
Than you should such dishonour undergo,
While I sit lazy by.
It would become me As well as it does you:
and I should do it With much more ease;
for my good will is to it, And yours it is against.
Poor worm, thou art infected!
You look wearily.
No, noble mistress;
'tis fresh morning with me
When you are by at night.
I do beseech you-
Chiefly that I might set it in my prayers-
What is your name?
Miranda.
-O my father, I have broke your hest to say so!
Admired Miranda!
Indeed the top of admiration!
Worth what's dearest to the world!
Full many a lady I have eyed with best regard
and many a time the harmony of their tongues
hath into bondage Brought my too diligent ear:
for several virtues Have I liked several women;
never any With so full soul,
but some defect in her Did quarrel
with the noblest grace she owed
And put it to the foil:
but you, O you,
So perfect and so peerless,
are created Of every creature's best!
I do not know One of my sex;
no woman's face remember,
Save, from my glass, mine own;
nor have I seen More that I may call men
than you, good friend,
And my dear father:
how features are abroad,
I am skilless of;
but, by my modesty,
The jewel in my dower,
I would not wish any companion in the world but you,
Nor can imagination form a shape,
Besides yourself, to like of.
But what I prattle Something too wildly
and my father's precepts I therein do forget.
Hear my soul speak:
The very instant that I saw you,
did my heart fly to your service;
there resides, To make me slave to it;
and for your sake Am I this patient log-man.
Do you love me?
O heaven, O earth,
bear witness to this sound
And crown what I profess with kind event
If I speak true!
if hollowly,
invert what best is boded me to mischief!
I Beyond all limit of what else i' the world
Do love, prize,
honour you.
I am a fool to weep at what I am glad of.
Fair encounter Of two most rare affections!
Heavens rain grace on that which breeds between 'em!
Wherefore weep you?
At mine unworthiness
which dare not offer What I desire to give,
and much less take What I shall die to want.
But this is trifling;
And all the more it seeks to hide itself,
The bigger bulk it shows.
Hence, bashful cunning!
And prompt me, plain and holy innocence!
I am your wife, if you will marry me;
If not, I'll die your maid:
to be your fellow You may deny me;
but I'll be your servant, Whether you will or no.
My mistress, dearest; And I thus humble ever.
My husband, then?
Ay, with a heart as willing As bondage e'er of freedom:
here's my hand.
And mine,
with my heart in't;
and so farewell
Till half an hour hence.
A thousand thousand!
So glad of this as they I cannot be,
Who are surprised withal;
I'll to my book,
For yet ere supper-time must I perform
Much business appertaining.
♪
♪ Caliban, Stephano and Trinculo singing ♪
Tell not me;
when the butt is out, we will drink water;
not a drop before: therefore
bear up, and board 'em.
A drink to me, servant monster.
Servant-monster!
the folly of this island!
They say there's but five upon this isle:
we are three of them;
if th' other two be brained like us,
the state totters.
Drink, drink when I bid thee, servant monster.
O thy eyes are almost set in thy head.
Where should they be set else?
he were a brave monster indeed,
if they were set in his tail.
My man-monster hath drown'd his tongue in sack:
for my part, the sea cannot drown me;
I swam, ere I could recover the shore,
five and thirty leagues
off and on.
By this light, thou shalt be my lieutenant,
monster, or my standard.
Your lieutenant, if you list;
he's no standard.
We'll not run, Monsieur Monster.
Nor walk neither;
but you'll lie like dogs and say nothing neither.
Moon-calf, speak once in thy life,
if thou beest a good moon-calf.
How does thy honour?
Let me lick thy shoe.
I'll not serve him;
he's not valiant.
Thou liest!
I am in case to justle a constable.
Why, thou deboshed fish thou,
was there ever man a coward that hath drunk
so much sack as I to-day?
Wilt thou tell a monstrous lie,
being but half a fish and half a monster?
Lo, how he mocks me!
wilt thou let him, my lord?
'Lord' quoth he!
A most ignorant monster!
Lo, lo, again!
bite him to death, I prithee.
Trinculo, keep a good tongue in your head:
if you prove a mutineer,--
the next tree!
The poor monster is my subject.
He shall not suffer indignity.
I thank my noble lord.
Wilt thou be pleased to hearken once again
to the suit I made to thee?
Marry, will I kneel and repeat it;
I will stand,
and so shall Trinculo.
As I told thee before,
I am subject to a tyrant,
a sorcerer,
that by his cunning hath cheated me of the island.
Thou liest.
Thou liest,
thou jesting monkey, thou:
I would my valiant master would destroy thee!
I do not lie.
Trinculo, trouble him in's tale one more
and by this hand,
I shall supplant some of your teeth.
Why, I said nothing.
Mum, then, and no more.
Proceed.
I say, by sorcery he got this isle;
From me he got it.
if thy greatness will Revenge it on him, --
for I know thou darest, But this thing dare not,--
That's most certain.
Thou shalt be lord of it and I'll serve thee.
How now shall this be compassed?
Canst thou bring me to the party?
Yea, yea, my lord:
I'll yield him thee asleep,
Where thou mayst knock a nail into his bead.
Thou liest;
What a pied ninny's this!
Thou scurvy patch!
I do beseech thy greatness, give him blows
And take his bottle from him:
Ah!
when that's gone he shall drink nought but brine;
for I'll not show him Where the quick freshes are.
Trinculo, run into no furtherdanger:
interrupt the monster one word further,
and by this hand,
I shall turn my mercy out o' doors
and I'll make a stock-fish of thee.
Why, what did I? I did nothing.
Didst thou not say he lied?
Thou liest.
Do I so? Take thou that.
Ah!
And that.
As you like this, give me the lie another time.
I did not give the lie.
Out o' your wits and hearing too?
Ah! A pox o' your bottle!
this can sack and drinking do.
A murrain on your monster,
and the devil take your fingers!
Ah!
Now then, forward with your tale.
I Prithee, stand farther off.
Beat him enough: after a little time I'll beat him too.
Stand farther.
Proceed.
Why, as I told thee,
'tis a custom with him, I' th' afternoon to sleep:
there thou mayst brain him,
Having first seized his books,
or with a log Batter his skull,
or paunch him with a stake,
Or cut his wezand with thy knife.
Remember first to possess his books;
for without them He's but a sot, as I am,
nor hath not One spirit to command:
they all do hate him As rootedly as I.
Burn but his books.
And that most deeply to consider
is the beauty of his daughter
He himself Calls her a nonpareil:
I never knew a woman,
But only Sycorax my dam and she;
But she as far surpasseth Sycorax
As great'st does least.
Is it so brave a lass?
Ay, lord; she will become thy bed, I warrant.
And bring thee forth brave brood.
Monster, I will kill this man:
his daughter and I shall be king and queen-
save our graces! --
and Trinculo and thyself shall be viceroys.
Dost thou like the plot, Trinculo?
Excellent.
Give me thy hand:
I am sorry I beat thee;
but, while thou livest,
keep a good tongue in thy head.
Within this half hour will he be asleep:
Wilt thou destroy him then?
Ay, on mine honour.
This will I tell my master.
Thou makest me merry;
I am full of pleasure:
Let us be jocund:
will you troll the catch You taught me but while-ere?
At thy request, monster,
I will do reason, any reason.
Come on, Trinculo, let us sing.
♪ Flout 'em and cout 'em ♪
♪ And scout 'em and flout 'em ♪
♪ Thought is free. ♪
That's not the tune.
♪
What is this same?
This is the tune of our catch,
played by the picture of nobody.
If thou beest a man,
show thyself in thy likeness:
if thou beest a devil, take't as thou list.
O, forgive me my sins!
He that dies pays all debts:
I defy thee.
Mercy upon us!
Art thou afeard?
No, monster, not I.
Be not afeard;
the isle is full of noises,
Sounds and sweet airs,
that give delight and hurt not.
Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments
Will hum about mine ears,
and sometime voices
That if I then had waked after long sleep,
Will make me sleep again:
and then, in dreaming,
The clouds methought would open
and show riches Ready to drop upon me
that when I waked,
I cried to dream again.
♪
This will prove a brave kingdom to me,
where I shall have my music for nothing.
When Prospero is destroyed.
That shall be by and by:
I remember the story.
The sound is going away; let's follow it,
and after do our work.
Monster, lead the way. We'll follow.
I would I could see this tabourer;
he lays it on.
♪
By'r lady, I can go no further, sir;
My old bones ache:
here's a maze trod indeed
Through forth-rights and meanders!
By your patience, I needs must rest me.
Old lord, I cannot blame thee,
Who am myself attach'd with weariness,
To the dulling of my spirits:
sit down, and rest.
Even here I will put off my hope
and keep it no longer for my flatterer:
he is drown'd Whom thus we stray to find,
and the sea mocks our frustrate search on land.
Well, let him go.
I am right glad that he's so out of hope.
Do not, for one repulse, forego the purpose
Which you resolved to effect.
The next advantage Will we take throughly.
Let it be to-night;
For now they are oppress'd with travel,
they will not, nor cannot,
use such vigilance As when they are fresh.
I say, to-night: no more.
♪ Solemn and strange music ♪
What harmony is this?
My good friends, hark!
Marvellous sweet music!
Give us kind keepers, heavens!
♪
What were these?
A living drollery.
Now I will believe That there are unicorns,
that in Arabia There is one tree,
the phoenix' throne,
one phoenix at this hour reigning there.
I'll believe both;
And what does else want credit,
come to me and I'll be sworn 'tis true:
travellers ne'er did lie,
Though fools at home condemn 'em.
If in Naples I should report this now,
would they believe me?
If I should say, I saw such islanders-
For certain these are people of the island-
Who, though they are of monstrous shape,
yet, note,
Their manners are more gentle-kind
than of Our human generation
you shall find many,
nay, almost any.
Honest lord, Thou hast said well;
for some of you there present
Are worse than devils.
They vanish'd strangely.
No matter, since they have left their viands behind;
for we have stomachs.
Will't please you taste of what is here?
Not I.
I will feed, Although my last:
no matter since I feel The best is past.
♪
Brother, my lord the duke,
Stand to and do as we.
♪
You are three men of sin,
whom Destiny,
That hath to instrument this lower world
And what is in't,
the never-surfeited sea Hath caused to belch up you;
and on this island
Where man doth not inhabit;
you 'mongst men Being most unfit to live.
I have made you mad;
And even with such-like valour
men hang and drown Their proper selves.
You fools!
I and my fellows Are ministers of Fate:
the elements of whom your swords are temper'd,
may as well Wound the loud winds,
If you could hurt,
Your swords are now too massy for your strengths
And will not be uplifted.
But remember-
For that's my business to you-
that you three From Milan
did supplant good Prospero;
Prospero!
Exposed unto the sea, which hath requit it,
Him and his innocent child:
for which foul deed
The powers delaying, not forgetting,
have incensed the seas and shores,
yea, all the creatures, Against your peace.
Thee of thy son, Alonso, They have bereft;
and do pronounce by me: Lingering perdition,
worse than any death Can be at once,
shall step by step attend you and your ways;
whose wraths to guard you from-
Which here, in this most desolate isle,
else falls Upon your heads-
is nothing but heart-sorrow
And a clear life ensuing.
Bravely the figure of his harpy
hast thou performed, my Ariel;
a grace it had, devouring.
Of my instruction hast thou nothing bated
In what thou hadst to say:
My high charms work And these mine enemies
are all knit up In their distractions;
they now are in my power;
And in these fits I leave them,
while I visit Young Ferdinand,
whom they suppose is drown'd,
And his and mine loved darling.
I' the name of something holy, sir,
why stand you In this strange stare?
O, it is monstrous, monstrous:
Methought the billows spoke and told me of it;
The winds did sing it to me, and the thunder,
That deep and dreadful organ-pipe,
pronounced The name of Prosper:
it did bass my trespass.
Therefore my son i' the ooze is bedded,
and I'll seek him deeper than e'er plummet sounded
And with him there lie mudded.
But one fiend at a time,
I'll fight their legions o'er.
I'll be thy second.
All three of them are desperate:
their great guilt,
Like poison given to work a great time after,
Now 'gins to bite the spirits.
I do beseech you That are of suppler joints,
follow them swiftly And hinder them from what
this ecstasy may now provoke them to.
Follow, I pray you.
♪
♪
♪
♪
If I have too austerely punish'd you,
Your compensation makes amends,
for I Have given you here a third of mine own life,
Or that for which I live;
all thy vexations
have been but my trials of thy love
and thou Hast strangely stood the test
here, afore Heaven,
I ratify this my rich gift.
O Ferdinand, Do not smile at me that I boast of her,
For thou shalt find she will outstrip all praise
And make it halt behind her.
I do believe it Against an oracle.
Then, as my gift and thine own acquisition
Worthily purchased
take my daughter:
but...
If thou dost break her virgin-knot
before all sanctimonious ceremonies may
With full and holy rite be minister'd,
No sweet aspersion shall the heavens let fall
To make this contract grow: but barren hate,
Sour-eyed disdain and discord shall bestrew
The union of your bed
with weeds so loathly
That you shall hate it both:
therefore take heed,
As Hymen's lamps shall light you.
As I hope For quiet days,
fair issue and long life,
With such love as 'tis now,
the murkiest den,
The most opportune place, the strong'st suggestion.
Our worser genius can,
shall never melt Mine honour into lust,
to take away the edge of that day's celebration
Fairly spoke.
Sit then and talk with her;
she is thine own.
What, Ariel!
My industrious servant, Ariel!
Here I am.
What would, my potent master?
Go bring the rabble, O'er whom I give thee power,
here to this place:
Incite them to quick motion;
for I must bestow upon the eyes of this young couple
Some vanity of mine art: it is my promise,
And they expect it from me.
Presently?
Ay, with a twink.
Before you can say 'come' and 'go,
' And breathe twice and cry 'so, so,'
Each one, tripping on his toe,
Will be here with mop and mow.
Do you love me, master?
No?
Dearly my delicate Ariel.
But do not approach Till thou dost hear me call.
Well, I conceive.
Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah!
Look thou be true; do not give dalliance
too much the rein.
be more abstemious, Or else,
good night your vow!
I warrant you sir;
The white cold virgin snow upon my heart
Abates the ardour of my liver.
Ah...
Well.
All eyes! Be silent.
Appear!
♪
Ceres, most bounteous lady,
thy rich leas Of wheat, rye, barley,
vetches, oats and peas;
Thy turfy mountains, where live nibbling sheep,
And flat meads thatch'd with stover,
them to keep;
Juno Queen o' the sky,
Whose watery arch and messenger am I,
Bids thee leave these,
and with her sovereign grace,
Here on this grass-plot, in this very place,
To come and sport:
her peacocks fly amain:
Approach, rich Ceres,
her to entertain.
Hail, many-colour'd messenger,
that ne'er Dost disobey the wife of Jupiter;
Who with thy saffron wings upon my flowers
Diffusest honey-drops, refreshing showers,
why hath thy queen Summon'd me hither,
to this short-grass'd green?
A contract of true love to celebrate;
And some donation freely to estate
On the blest lovers.
High'st queen of state,
Great Juno, comes;
How does my bounteous sister?
Go with me To bless this twain,
that they may prosperous be
And honour'd in their issue.
♪
♪ Honour, riches, marriage-blessing, ♪
♪ Long continuance, and increasing, ♪
♪ Hourly joys be still upon you! ♪
♪ Juno sings her blessings upon you. ♪
♪
This is a most majestic vision,
and harmonious charmingly.
May I be bold To think these spirits?
Spirits, which by mine art
I have call'd to enact My present fancies.
Let me live here ever;
So rare a wonder'd father and a wife
Makes this place Paradise.
♪
♪ Earth's increase, foison plenty, ♪
♪ barns and garners never empty, ♪
♪ vines with clust'ring bunches growing, ♪
♪ plants with goodly burden bowing; ♪
♪
♪ Spring come to you at the farthest, ♪
♪ in every end of harvest! ♪
♪ Scarcity and want shall shun you. ♪
♪ Ceres blessing so is on you. ♪
♪
Enough! No more!
Be gone!
I had forgot the foul conspiracy
of the beast Caliban and his confederates
against my life.
The minute of their plot is almost come.
No more! No more! No more!
This is strange: your father's in some passion
That moves him strongly.
Never till this day Saw I him touch'd with anger
so distemper'd.
You do look, my son,
in a moved sort,
As if you were dismay'd:
be cheerful, sir.
Our revels now are ended.
These our actors, As I foretold you,
were all spirits
and Are melted into air,
into thin air:
And like the baseless fabric of this vision,
The cloud-capp'd towers,
the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples,
the great globe itself,
Ye all which it inherit, shall dissolve
and like this insubstantial pageant faded,
Leave not a rack behind.
We are such stuff As dreams are made on,
and our little life Is
rounded with a sleep.
Sir, I am vex'd;
Bear with my weakness;
my ol' brain is troubled:
Be not disturb'd with my infirmity:
If you be pleased, retire you to my cell
And there repose awhile.
♪
A turn or two I'll take,
To still my beating mind.
We wish your peace.
Come with a thought
I thank thee, Ariel: come.
Thy thoughts I cleave to.
What's thy pleasure?
Spirit, We must prepare to meet with Caliban.
Ay, my commander.
Say again, where didst thou leave these varlets?
I told you, sir, they were red-hot with drinking;
So full of valour that they smote the air
For breathing in their faces;
beat the ground For kissing of their feet;
yet always bending Towards their project.
so I charm'd their ears That calf-like
they my lowing follow'd through tooth'd briers,
sharp furzes, pricking goss and thorns,
Which entered their frail shins:
at last I left them I' the filthy-mantled pool
beyond your cell,
There dancing up to the chins,
that the foul lake O'erstunk their feet.
This was well done, my bird.
Thy shape invisible retain thou still:
The trumpery in my house,
go bring it hither, as means to catch these thieves.
I go, I go.
A devil, a born devil,
on whom my pains, Humanely taken,
all, all lost,
quite lost;
And as with age
his body uglier grows,
So his mind cankers.
I will plague them all,
Even to roaring.
Pray you, t read softly,
that the blind mole may not Hear a foot fall:
we now are near his cell.
Monster, your fairy,
which you say is a harmless fairy,
has done little better than played the Jack with us.
Monster, I do smell all horse-piss;
at which my nose is in great indignation.
So is mine.
Do you hear, monster?
If I should take a displeasure against you,
look you,--
Thou wert but a lost monster.
Good my lord, give me thy favour still.
Be patient, for the prize I'll bring thee to
Shall hoodwink this mischance:
therefore speak softly.
All's hush'd as midnight yet.
Ay, but to lose our bottles in the pool, --
There is not only disgrace and dishonour in that,
monster, but an infinite loss.
That's more to me than my wetting:
and this is your harmless fairy, monster.
I shall fetch after my bottle,
though I be o'er ears for my labour.
Good , my king, be quiet.
Seest thou here, This is the mouth o' the cell:
no noise, and enter.
Do that good mischief
which may make this island Thine own for ever,
and I, thy Caliban,
For aye thy foot-licker.
Give me thy hand.
I do begin to have bloody thoughts.
♪
O king Stephano!
O peer! O worthy Stephano!
look what a wardrobe here is for thee!
Let it alone, thou fool;
it is but trash.
O, ho, monster!
we know what belongs to a frippery.
O king Stephano!
Put off that gown, Trinculo;
by this hand,
I'll have that gown.
Thy grace shall have it.
The dropsy drown this fool
what do you mean to dote thus on such luggage?
Let it alone And do the murder first:
if he awake, From toe to crown
he'll fill our skins with pinches,
Be you quiet, monster.
Monster,
put some lime on your fingers,
and away with the rest.
Wit shall not go unrewarded
while I am King of this Country.
Put lime on his fingers,
tis a most excellent pass of pate.
Here is a garment for't.
We shall lose our time,
and all be turned to barnacles,
or to apes with foreheads villainous low.
Monster, lay to your fingers.
And help bear this away where my hogsead of wine is hid
or I'll turn you out of my kingdom.
Go to!
And help carry this.
And this.
And this.
Hey, Mountain, hey, mountain!
Silver! There it goes!
Silver!
Fury, Fury!
Fury, Fury!
There! There!
Tyrant, tyrant!
There!
Go charge my goblins that they grind their joints
With dry convulsions!
Aaaaaah!
Hark, they roar!
Let them be hunted soundly.
sAt this hour Lie at my mercy
all mine enemies.
♪
Shortly shall all my labours end,
and thou shalt have the air at freedom.
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 his followers?
Confined together
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;
Ah.
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,
be kindlier moved than thou art?
Ah.
The rarer action
is in virtue than in vengeance:
Go release them, Ariel:
I'll fetch them, sir.
They being penitent
the sole drift of my purpose
doth extend not a frown further.
♪
My charms I'll break,
theirs senses I'll restore,
and they shall be themselves.
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.
♪ solemn ♪
A solemn air
and the best comforter To an unsettled fancy
cure thy brains, Now useless,
which boil within thy skull!
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.
Their understanding Begins to swell,
and the approaching tide
Will shortly fill
the reasonable shore
That now lies foul and muddy.
There stand,
for you are spell stopped.
♪
Not one of them that yet looks on me,
or doth know me.
Ariel,
fetch the robe of office from my cell.
Quickly spirit!
Thou shalt ere long be free.
♪
♪ 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 from the bough. ♪
♪
Why, that's my dainty Ariel!
I shall miss thee:
So,
so, so.
To the king's ship, invisible as thou art
the master and the boatswain being awake,
enforce them to this place,
And presently, I prithee.
♪
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 to thy company
I bid A hearty welcome.
Whether thou beest 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,
Holy Gonzalo,
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,
which will not let you Believe things certain.
You are welcome, my friends all!
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.
The devil speaks in him.
No.
For you, most wicked sir,
whom to call brother
Would even infect my mouth,
I forgive Thy rankest fault;
all of them;
and require My dukedom of thee,
which perforce,
I know, Thou must restore.
If thou beest 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.
For I have lost a daughter.
A daughter?
O heavens, that were both living 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.
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.
You are Welcome, sir;
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 thee.
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.
O wonder!
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!
I have inly wept,
Or should have spoke ere this.
Look down, you gods,
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!
Amen!
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.
Give me your hands:
Let grief and sorrow still embrace his heart
That doth not wish you joy!
Be it so! Amen!
Amen!
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 on 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.
Sir, all this service Have I done since I went.
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'd strive to tell you.
We were dead of sleep, And- how we know not-
all clapp'd under hatches;
Where but with strange and several noises
Of roarings,
shriekings, howlings,
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.
Was't well done?
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;
I'll resolve you,
till then, be patient
and think of each thing well.
Come hither, spirit:
Set Caliban and his companions free;
Untie the spell.
Most gracious sir?
There are yet missing of your company
Some few odd lads
that you remember not.
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,
and 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 acknowledge mine.
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:
Why, how now, Stephano!
I prithee, touch me not.
For I am not Stephano, but a cramp.
You'ld be king o' the isle, sirrah?
I should be a sore one then.
This is a strange thing as e'er I look'd on.
He is as disproportioned in his manners
As in his shape.
Go, sirrah, to my cell;
Take with you your companions;
and 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.
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,
will 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.
I long 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
it shall catch Your royal fleet far off.
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 is 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.
♪
♪
♪
♪
artistic director of the Stratford Festival,
and it's my pleasure to welcome you
to this live viewing party.
Tonight, we're showing the film
of our 2010 production of "The Tempest,"
directed by Des McAnuff, and starring the incomparable,
Christopher Plummer, as Prospero.
It's the last play that Shakespeare wrote on his own,
though, he did collaborate on a couple of other later ones.
And in many ways, it's his culminating tribute to the art
that made him wealthy in his lifetime
and uniquely famous in ours.
Prospero is the master magician at the heart of the play,
and directs and stage manages his own drama
of revenge and reconciliation.
"My so potent art," he calls it at one point,
and later renouncing that same art as, "This rough magic."
There's some pretty awesome stage magic, though,
to be seen in this production.
So, see if you can figure out how some of it's done.
Like "Romeo and Juliet," a much earlier play,
"The Tempest" is about an older generation
that has made a mess of things,
and a brave new world of hope
represented by the new generation.
And maybe it's doubly hopeful
that in this last great masterpiece of Shakespeare,
he opted for a much happier ending.
If you enjoy tonight's film,
I hope you'll join Strat Fest at home
to watch more films on our library,
plus new series and digital events
that we'll be rolling out all winter long.
One of the events I'm most excited about
is the international book launch
of all the sonnets of Shakespeare,
a groundbreaking new study
by world-renowned Shakespeare scholars,
Stanley Wells and Paul Edmondson.
My conversation with them will be our viewing party
on December 17th.
For tonight, here's a tantalizing preview performance
of one of Shakespeare's sonnets.
(upbeat music)
- Thus can my love excuse the slow offense
of my dull bearer, when from thee I speed.
From where thou art, why should I haste me thence?
Till I return, of posting there is no need.
Oh, what excuse will my poor beast then find,
when swift extremity can seem but slow?
Then should I spur, though mounted on the wind,
in winged speed no motion shall I know.
Then can no horse with my desire keep pace.
Therefore desire of perfect love being made
shall reign no dull flesh in his fiery race.
But love, for love, thus shall excuse my jade.
Since from thee going he went willful slow,
towards thee I'll run, and give him leave to go.
- Join Start Fest at home,
to be part of the international book launch
of all the sonnets of Shakespeare,
and to be the first audience
for much more content all winter long.
And while we're here on YouTube,
please click the subscribe button below
to join our ever-growing numbers of supporters.
We're well on our way
to achieving the 40,000 subscriber mark,
and that'll permit us to give our online fans
an easy, one-click way to donate to the festival.
Becoming a YouTube subscriber won't cost you a cent.
Now, as a prelude to tonight's film of "The Tempest,"
here's a pre-show talk with director, Des McAnuff,
and his Prospero, Christopher Plummer.
Then it's off to that enchanted island
of marvels and magical creatures,
where old enemies are about to be confronted,
and young lovers are about to bring new hope into the world.
Thank you for joining us.
- All my life I have been mad, passionate for islands.
I grew up in Senneville, Quebec
on the Lake of Two Mountains.
My mum's best lady friend owned a beautiful island
just across from us.
I spent most of my childhood on that island.
I used to sneak over and walk around or I'd play tennis
and I just would radiate at the wonder of an island.
It was an escape and it spoke to you
and we even had conversations.
And then when I was old enough
to read Shakespeare's Tempest, it all fell into place.
The island was Prospero's imagination.
- I think the most important thing
about the island, about Prospero's island,
which is really Caliban's island,
is that the island is not just a literal place.
The island is a mirror and it reflects back
the things that the characters are saying
for Antonio and Sebastian, it's desolate,
it's a rather desperate place.
For Gonzalo, it's Utopia.
Our island is basically a magic circle.
It's Prospero's magic circle.
And it's a disk that sometimes spins and sometimes elevates.
And it's actually very austere.
The Island really comes to life,
well, certainly in the characters
in those marvelous performances,
Julyana Soelistyo and Tim Stickney
and Vickery and Dion Johnstone,
this wonderful task, Trish Lindstrom.
But I think mainly comes to life
in the imaginations of the audience.
It really comes to life in the eyes of the characters
and that's the most important image
a stage director can create.
It's not the scenery, it's the actors are conjurers
and it's what they see and hear and smell
that really brings the play to life for the audience.
- Blow till thou burst thy wind, if room enough!
Good Boatswain, have care.
Where's the Master?
Play the men.
- I pray now, keep below.
- Where is the Master, Boatswain?
- Do you not hear him?
You mar our labor.
Keep your cabins.
You do assist the storm.
(ocean wave sounds)
- Nay, good, be patient.
- When the sea is, hence.
What cares these roarers for the name of king!
To cabin!
Silence!
Trouble us not!
- Good, yet remember whom thou hast aboard.
- Not that I love more dearly than myself.
- During the Tempest, you don't need any research.
The writing of Shakespeare and the rhythm of his verse
are the most freeing things you can have on the stage.
You must have the technique to be able to stretch the line
as he wrote it and you have to obey his rhythms.
And once you do, you're off, he's carried you with him.
- The thing that's interesting about the Tempest
is that it was written late in Shakespeare's career.
It's probably his last solo play
but the company spent a lot of time trying to move indoors
to eventually the Blackfriars theater, away from the globe
so that they could embrace certain elements
of spectacle and magic.
And obviously they could work in the winter months.
There were all kinds of advantages.
And around that time, as the 17th century started to unfold
there was a movement toward the mask,
the designer, Inigo Jones Robert Real's predecessor,
they were interested
in a sense new dimensions of stage magic.
So the great thing is that Shakespeare
is also not only a great dramatist, but a wonderful guide.
There's the magic of the Island itself
of Caliban and of Ariel and of the spirits.
And then there's Prospero's magic,
which is very much based on science.
The important thing is not to layer in more spectacle
than Shakespeare desires.
There's an image where Chris seems to be sitting in mid air,
with the staff he's sitting with mid irony
actually lifts his feet just before he descends floating.
And so there were gasps
and those had everything to do with Greg.
Greg Kramer was the magician
that we worked with on the Tempest.
And he made really a glorious contribution to the piece.
He worked very, very closely with Chris
and with the acting company
and gave me many choices as we went through the text.
And the thing about Greg is that he was an actor as well.
So he truly understood the dynamics of the play
and what was required.
The opening of the film
where Ariel descends from the heavens
and picks up the magic book.
I think works marvelously well in the film
and was something that I was concerned about
because of course, in the theater
you see this little figure plummeting from above
and it takes your breath away.
And I was concerned
that we try to create that,
that same sort of surreal, energy.
And I think we did manage to do that.
(soft music)
(thunder roars)
- Father!
Father!
- So I think we were very true
to the most important dynamics in the piece.
And it's astonishing how it still applies.
It's about power, it's of course, a love story on one level,
but it's about power and betrayal and politics.
And it reminds me so much of the times we're in,
the treachery of Antonio and the ambition of Alonso,
and it could be Ottawa,
it could be Washington, sadly enough, on this very day.
- I think you wouldn't go to Shakespeare to be comforted.
You would go to him to be entertained
and to forget your woes.
This is what he would say, I think.
He never does that in his place which is so extraordinary.
He never has his characters be sorry for themselves.
He won't allow it.
And even Hamlet is quite sincere
and wonderful when he says that simple line,
the rest is silence.
What could be a more simple and extraordinary phrase?
It's more modern than anything we say today.
- There was a wonderful moment in the Tempest.
Ariel basically is talking about the torture
of the Lords of Alonso and everything
that Prospero's put them through.
Ariel says, if you could behold them,
they're so tortured that,
you would feel this tender affection.
And Prospero says, "Dust thou think so, spirit?"
Ariel says, "Mine would, were I human."
And there's a pause, a Christopher Plummer pause
and he says, "And mine shall."
And in that little moment, that pause,
the entire story shifts
and he's not sure what he's going to do with those Lords,
those betrayers until that very moment.
And it happens in that gap.
- 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 termed, 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 them
that if you now beheld them
your affections would become tender.
- Dost I 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, we kindly moved than thou art?
The rarer action is in virtue than in vengeance.
- When we were planning that scene,
I thought, well, I'll put Ariel close to him.
And he said,
"No, no, no, I think there needs to be some distance there."
And so I put them both on the fourth stage,
it's the simplest blocking you could ask one that states,
they're both sitting on the four stage,
maybe, 10, 15 feet apart.
And when she says that, "Mine would, sir, were I human,"
he just cocks his head.
And again, that's this explosion dramatically.
And when I first saw him do it
which came very much from Chris, I shed tears.
I mean, I've thought of Chris for many years
as the great actor of of not just as generation,
but of our time.
And I did get work with Amanda Plummer,
Chris's daughter many years ago.
She actually did Juliet for me.
And so I kinda felt
like I was at least a distant cousin
when we started actually working together.
This was absolutely your dream.
And I still, to this day, when we meet,
I'm always trying to get Chris to give me advice
about just recently seen particular films
and Eisenstein, I didn't know,
the work of the British director Carol Reed and so on.
And so it's been a joyous collaboration.
It's also rare in life, we make, we make most of our friends
when we're in school.
It seems to me those are the friendships most.
So to make a friend and I would have been in my late forties
to make a close friend at that stage is truly a blessing.
- Yeah, wonderful.
Absolutely and all of.
What's your name? - Ernie.
(both laugh)
- That's great.
And he's such a passionate director, he knows about music,
he knows about poetry and he knows about modern theater.
He knows a lot with an over spill of rock
thrown in every now and then to great success,
of course, as we know.
And I was amazed how versatile he is as a director.
He can be as real today
and as real back in the Elizabethan era as possible.
- This was a great process of discovery in general.
I think that the thing that's exciting
about these captures of productions
is that it is kind of a new art form.
One is making a film, absolutely.
But there's also a strong dimension
where you're capturing an event.
You're documenting an event.
We had a terrific team, Barry Avrich,
our illustrious producer, Sheila O'Brian as well
as a whole assortment of other technicians
and talented artisans.
So I think I was pretty confident with the team
but I've gotta say there's also a wonderful,
I don't wanna say random,
but there's a kind of a general approach to,
when you have so many angles
you don't have to make mammoth adjustments to the staging.
The cameras were really keeping up with the staging.
And when we chose positions, we had that very much in mind.
We didn't want to ruin the performance
for the people that were actually in the room.
- So your audience themselves extremely well.
That audience is so sort of informed
and we were lucky to have them out there
and they did not distract one little bit.
- It is live theater
and they're very much a part of the experience.
So we tried to choose positions
that weren't incredibly intrusive.
- Did you include them in some of the room?
The audience reaction, I remember, that was good.
- You can't see them and it's occasional and generally
they're somewhat faded in the background.
- Yeah.
- But it's great because I think it reminds the viewer
that this is a live performance.
- A live performance.
- And it's a different art form than cinema.
- In some cases, of course,
it really belongs to the theater.
And that's when I get a little uptight
because I think we should honor the old fashioned thing
of the 1800 people who paid their money
and the style with which we play because of that
- On a movie you're basically story boarding,
you're doing your shot list,
you're coming in with a plan,
that's mainly focused on one camera.
Maybe if you're Ridley Scott, you're shooting with four,
but most of the time you're assembling actors,
they're coming and going.
You're putting costumes on for that particular scene.
And you're filming in byte-sized chunks.
Only Alfred Hitchcock got to shoot in order.
And with this, it's a different thing.
You've got nine cameras.
You're basically getting as much coverage
as you possibly can,
collecting this raw material for editorial.
The thing that's most similar is the editorial process.
And I had a great post-production team on this.
And so that's the part of it's that's most similar
I think from making a film.
The thing that's profoundly different
from actually making a motion picture
is that so much of the work has already been done.
Directing is really about two things, mainly,
it's about storytelling and performance.
All of that work had already been accomplished.
The piece was blocked, there were costumes, it was lit.
And while one has to make adjustments for the camera
with these extraordinary digital cameras,
those adjustments are relatively minor.
And ultimately it seems to me that you live and die
based on the quality of the production.
I think when seeing the films, I think you would feel
that there was a truthful representation of the production.
And so that was the thing that was most important to me.
You can't see every transition of course,
the way you can in the theater.
So we would often follow the actors,
or we would make those transitions work in a different way.
And that you're not necessarily celebrating the spectacle
in the same way.
Nonetheless, I think just emotionally and intellectually
the films are very true to the productions.
And I had the benefit of working
with just tremendous people.
And in a sense that was an extension of the collaboration
that we all enjoy in the theater.
And perhaps this is simply, director ego
but I had so much confidence because of George Bernard Shaw
and William Shakespeare first and foremost,
but because of of Christopher Plummer.
So I did feel like this was something
that was really worthwhile.
- In a very different and rather vulgar way,
you think it's your last job.
(laughs)
No revels now are ended, but then you say to yourself,
down the line a little bit, it's,
"Now my charms are all o'erthrown."
I'm not going to over throw my charms,
let me play other parts, it's not the end.
'Cause most people think that once you've played
King of the year and prosper, that's it.
There's no other great art.
Well, wrong. I've just finished playing Tolstoy,
Kaiser Wilhelm and J Paul Getty.
I mean, now I'm going on forever.
It's how old need you be to play Prospero?
Well, he's not old.
I mean, I felt suspended.
It's beautiful because he's just as young
when the curtain goes down
as he is when the curtain goes up, it's an ageless part.
Absolutely ageless.
Fortunately, if you're true to yourself
you could wear a suit or a bikini or whatever you want.
And you'd still be believed if you are honest and true
it doesn't matter, then what costume you wear.
But the costume is on its own a very influential thing.
And once you've put on the costume that you like,
for instance let's use that wonderful cloak
that Paul Tasmil designed for Prospero,
full of leaves, green seaweed and all sorts of stuff.
As a cloak, it was absolutely brilliant and lovely.
Once you put that on
it gives you an extra lift and it drives you forward.
So it's very, very valuable, the right sort of costume.
- At the end of the day it all has to be one thing,
the visuals, the text, the music,
there has to be a uniformity.
The thing that I love about the theater
is that I consider the whole stage, the canvas.
The theater is an art form
in itself beyond dramatic literature.
And of course the festival stage
is the perfect place to celebrate that.
- Now my charms are all o'erthrown.
And what strength I have is 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 pardoned 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 pardoned be.
Let your indulgence set me free.
Father! Father!
Boatswain!
Here, master. What cheers?
Good, speak to the mariners:
fall to't, yarely,
or we run ourselves aground.
Bestir, bestir.
Hey, my hearts!
Cheerly, 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!
Good Boatswain, have care.
Where's the master?
Play the men.
I pray now, keep below.
Where is the master, bos'n?
Do you not hear him? You mar our labour:
keep your cabins - you do assist the storm.
Nay, good, be patient.
When the sea is.
Hence!
What cares these roarers for the name of king?
To Cabin. Silence!
Trouble us not.
Good, yet remember whom thou hast aboard.
None that I more dearly 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.
Father! Father!
Cheerly, good hearts!
Out of our way, I say.
I have great comfort from this fellow.
Methinks he hath no drowning mark upon him;
his complexion is perfect gallows.
But if he be not born to be hanged,
our case is miserable.
Down with the topmast! Lower, lower!
Bring her to try with main-course.
A plague upon this howling!
They are louder than the weather or our office.
Yet again! What do you here?
Shall we give o'er and drown?
Have you a mind to sink?
A pox o' your throat, you bawling,
blasphemous, incharitable dog!
Work you, then.
Hang, cur, hang, you whoreson, insolent noisemaker!
We are less afraid to be drowned than thou art.
I'll warrant him from drowning;
though the ship were no stronger than a nutshell
and as leaky as an unstanched wench.
Lay her a-hold, a-hold!
set her two courses off to sea again; lay her off.
Father!
All lost! To prayers, to prayers! All lost!
What, must our mouths be cold?
The King and Prince at prayers!
Let's assist them, for our case is as theirs.
I'm out of patience.
We are merely cheated of our lives by drunkards.
This wide-chapp'd rascal-
would thou mightst lie drowning.
The washing of ten tides!
He'll be hang'd yet.
♪
Mercy on us!
'Farewell, my wife and children!'
'We split, we split, we split!'
Farewell my brother!
Let's all sink with the king.
Let's take leave of him.
Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea
for an acre of barren ground.
The wills above be done,
but I would fain die a dry death.
Father!
Oh Father!
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 heart -
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 swallowed
and the fraughting souls within her.
Be collected!
No more amazement.
Tell your piteous heart
there's no harm done.
O, woe the day!
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 from 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, and
pluck my magic garment from me.
So, so,
so,
have comfort.
The direful spectacle of the wreck,
that touched the very virtue of compassion in thee,
I have with such provision in mine art
so safely ordered that there is no soul-
No, not so much perdition as an hair
betid to any creature in the vessel
which thou heard'st cry,
which thou saw'st sink.
Wipe thou thine yes.
So lie there,
my art.
♪
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 hours now come; 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.
'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?
Thou hadst,
and more,
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?
Thy mother was a piece of virtue,
and she said thou wast my daughter;
And they father was Duke of Milan.
And his only heir and princess
no worse issued.
O the heavens!
What foul play had we,
that we came from thence?
Or blessed was't we did?
Both, both, my girl.
By foul play, as thou say'st,
were we heaved thence,
but blessedly holp hither.
O, my heart bleeds to think of the trouble
I have turn'd you to,
which is from my remembrance!
Please you, farther.
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 it was then through all the signories
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.
Oh! Thy false uncle-
Dost thou attend me?
Sir, most heedfully.
Thy false uncle - Once perfected
how to grant suits, how to deny them
New created the offices that were mine
set all heart i' the state 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.
O, good sir, I do.
I pray thee, mark me.
I, thus neglecting worldly ends,
all dedicated to closeness
and the bettering of my mind
in my false brother
awaked an evil nature,
and my trust, like 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 being lorded,
made such a sinner of his memory to credit his own lie,
he did believe he was indeed the duke,
dost thou hear?
Your tale, sir, would cure deafness.
Me, poor man, my library was dukedom large enough.
Of temporal royalties he thinks me now incapable;
conspires with King of Naples
to give him annual tribute, to him homage,
subject his coronet to his crown
and bend the dukedom yet unbowed -
alas, poor Milan!
- To most ignoble stooping.
O, the heavens!
Mark his condition and th' event;
then tell me if this might be a brother.
I should sin to think but nobly of my grandmother:
Good wombs have borne bad sons.
Good wombs have borne bad sons.
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
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 the gates of Milan,
and, i' the dead of darkness,
the ministers for the purpose hurried thence
me and thy crying self.
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.
Wherefore did they not that hour destroy us?
Well demanded, wench:
They durst not,
so dear the love
my people bore me,
in few, they hurried us aboard a bark,
bore us some leagues to sea;
where they prepared a rotten carcass of a butt,
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 to the winds
whose pity, sighing back again,
did us but loving wrong.
Alack, what trouble Was I then to you!
O, oh...
a cherubim thou wast
that did preserve me.
When I have deck'd the sea with drops full salt,
thou didst smile,
infused with a fortitude from heaven.
How came we ashore?
By Providence divine.
Some food we had and some fresh water
that a noble Neapolitan, Gonzalo,
out of his charity did give us,
with rich garments,
linens, stuffs and necessaries,
Which since have steaded much;
and of his gentleness,
knowing I loved my books,
he furnish'd me from mine own library
with volumes that I prize above my dukedom.
I might but ever see that man!
Ah.
Now I arise.
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 princes can
who have more time for vainer hours
and tutors not so careful.
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?
Ah.
Know thus far forth.
By accident most strange,
bountiful Fortune,
now my dear lady,
hath mine enemies
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:
Thou art inclined to sleep.
♪
'tis a good dulness,
give it way:
♪
I know thou canst not choose.
Come away, servant,
Come!
♪
I am ready now.
Approach, my Ariel, come.
All hail, great master!
Grave sir, hail!
I come to answer thy best pleasure,
be't to fly, to swim,
to dive into the fire,
to ride on the curled clouds,
to thy strong bidding task Ariel
and all her quality.
Spirit! Has thou perform'd
to point the tempest that I bade thee?
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'd divide and burn in many places-
on the topmast, the yards and bowsprit,
would I flame distinctly,
then meet and join.
Jove's lightnings,
the precursors of the dreadful thunder-claps,
more momentary and sight-outrunning were not;
the fire and cracks of sulphurous roaring
the most mighty Neptune seem to besiege
and make his bold waves tremble,
Yea, his dread trident shake.
My brave spirit!
Who was so firm, so constant,
that this coil would not infect his reason?
Not a soul but felt a fever of the mad,
and played 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.'
That's my spirit!
But was not this nigh shore?
Close by, my master.
But are they, Ariel, safe?
Not a hair perished.
On their sustaining garments not a blemish,
but fresher than before:
and as thou bad'st me,
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.
Of the king's ship, the mariners,
say how thou hast disposed
and all the rest o' the fleet.
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 Bermudas,
there she's hid:
The mariners all under hatches stowed,
who, with a charm joined to their suffer'd labour,
I have left asleep;
as for the rest o'th fleet which I dispersed,
they all have met again,
and are upon the Mediterranean flote,
bound sadly home for Naples,
supposing that they saw the king's ship wrecked,
and his great person perish.
Ariel, thy charge
exactly is perform'd: but there's more work.
Aye!
Aye? What is the time o'th day?
Past the mid season.
At least two glasses.
The time 'twixt six and now
must by us both be spent most preciously.
Is there more toil?
Uh-huh.
Since thou dost give me pains,
let me remember thee what thou hast promised,
which is not yet performed me.
How now? Moody?
What is't thou canst demand?
My liberty.
Before the time be out? No more!
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.
Dost thou forget from what a torment
I did free thee? - No.
Thou dost,
and think'st it much to tread the ooze
of the salt deep,
to run upon the sharp wind of the north,
to do me business in the veins o'th earth
when it is baked with frost.
I do not, sir.
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?
No, sir.
Thou hast. Where was she born?
Speak; tell me.
Sir, in Algiers.
O, was she so?
I must once in a month recount what thou hast been,
which thou forget'st.
O-la-la-la- la-la-la.
This damn'd witch Sycorax,
for mischiefs manifold and sorceries
too terrible to enter human hearing,
from Algiers. Thou know'st was banished -
for one thing she did they would not take her life.
Is not this true?
Ay, sir. Ay, sir.
This blue-eyed hag was hither brought with child
and here was left by th' sailors.
Thou, my slave,
as thou report'st thyself,
wast then her servant,
and for thou wast a spirit too delicate
to act her earthy and abhorred commands,
she did confine thee, into a cloven pine,
within which rift, imprisoned thou didst
painfully remain a dozen years
within which space she died and left thee there!
Oh-ho!
Thou best know'st what torment I did find thee in;
Thy groans did make wolves howl
and penetrate the breasts of ever angry bears -
it was a torment to lay upon the damn'd,
which Sycorax could not again undo:
it was mine art,
when I arrived and heard thee,
that made gape the pine
and let thee out.
I thank thee, master.
I thank thee, master.
If thou more murmur'st,
I will rend an oak and peg thee in his knotty entrails
till thou hast howled away twelve winters.
Pardon, master.
I will be correspondent to command
and do my spiriting gently.
Do so, and after two days
I will discharge thee.
That's my noble master!
What shall I do?
Say what: what shall I do?
Go make thyself like a nymph o'th sea:
be subject to no sight but thine and mine,
invisible to every eyeball else.
Go take this shape and hither come in't:
Go! Hence!
Ah-ah-ah-ah!
With diligence!
Awake, dear heart, awake!
Awake.
Thou hast slept well.
The strangest of your story put heaviness in me.
Shake it off. Come!
We'll visit Caliban my slave,
who never yields us kind answer.
'Tis a villain, sir, I do not love to look on.
Well he does make our fire.
and fetches us in wood
and serves in offices that profit us.
As tis,
we cannot miss him.
♪
What, ho,
slave!
Caliban!
Thou earth, thou!
Speak!
There's wood enough within.
Come forth.
There's other business for thee.
My quaint Ariel,
A word, a word, in thine ear.
My lord, it shall be done.
Come!
Tortoise, poisonous slave,
got by the devil himself upon thy wicked dam,
come forth, I say!
As wicked dew as e'er my mother brush'd
with raven's feather from unwholesome fen
drop on you both!
a south-west blow on ye
and blister you all o'er!
For this, be sure, tonight thou shall be pinched
as thick as honeycomb,
each pine more stinging
than bees that made 'em.
I must eat my dinner.
This island's mine
by Sycorax my mother,
which thou takest from me.
When thou camest first,
Thou strokedst me
and madest much of me,
wouldst give me Water with berries in't,
and teach me how to name the bigger light,
and how the less,
That burn by day and night:
and then I loved thee
And show'd thee all the qualities o' the isle,
The fresh springs, brine-pits,
barren place and fertile:
Cursed be I that did so!
All the charms Of Sycorax,
toads, beetles, bats,
light on you!
For I am all the subjects that you have,
Which first was mine own king:
and here you sty me In this hard rock,
whiles you do keep from me The rest o' the island.
Thou most lying slave,
Whom stripes may move, not kindness!
I have used thee,
Filth as thou art, with humane care,
and lodged thee In mine own cell,
where thou didst seek to violate The honour
of my child.
O ho, O ho!
would't had been done!
Thou didst prevent me;
I had peopled else this isle
with Calibans.
Abhorred slave,
Which any print of goodness wilt not take,
Being capable of all ill!
I pitied thee,
Took pains to make thee speak,
taught thee each hour One thing or other:
when thou didst not, savage,
Know thine own meaning,
but wouldst gabble like A thing most brutish,
I endow'd thy purposes With words
that made them known.
But thy vile race,
Though thou didst learn,
had that in't which good natures
Could not abide to be with;
therefore wast thou Deservedly confined
into this rock,
Who hadst deserved more than a prison.
You taught me language;
and my profit on't, is I know how to curse.
The red plague rid you For learning me your language!
Hag-seed, hence!
Fetch us in fuel, be quick,
thou'rt best to answer other business.
Shrug'st thou, malice?
I'll rack thee with old cramps,
fill all thy bones with aches,
make thee roar that beasts
shall tremble at thy din.
No, pray thee.
♪
I must obey.
His art is of such power,
it would control my dam's god, Setebos,
and make a vassal of him.
♪
♪ Come unto these yellow sands, ♪
♪ And then take hands: ♪
♪
♪ Courtsied when you have and kissed ♪
♪ The wild waves whist, ♪
♪
♪ Foot it featly here and there, ♪
♪ and sweet sprites bear the burden. ♪
♪ Hark, hark! ♪
Bow-wow.
♪ The watch-dogs bark! ♪
♪ Hark, hark! ♪
♪ I hear The strain of strutting chanticleer ♪
♪ chanticleer ♪
♪ Cry cock-a-diddle-dow. ♪
♪ Cock-a-diddle-dow. ♪
♪
Where should this music be?
In the air
or the earth?
It sounds no more:
and sure, it waits upon some
god o' the island.
Sitting on a bank,
weeping again the king my father's wreck,
this music crept by me upon the waters,
allaying both their fury and my passion
with its sweet air.
Thence I have follow'd it,
or it hath drawn me rather;
but tis gone.
♪
No, it begins again.
♪
♪ Full fathom five thy father lies; ♪
♪ Of his bones are coral made; ♪
♪
♪ Those are pearls that were his eyes: ♪
♪
♪ Nothing of him that doth fade ♪
♪
♪ Nothing of him that doth fade ♪
♪ But doth suffer a sea-change ♪
♪ Into something rich and strange. ♪
♪ Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell. ♪
♪ Ding dong. -ding dong.♪
♪ Ding dong. -ding dong.♪
♪ Hark! ♪
♪ now I hear them, ♪
♪ Ding-dong bell. ♪
♪
The ditty does remember my drowned father.
This is no mortal business,
nor no sound That the earth owes.
I hear it now above me.
The fringed curtains of thine eye advance
And say what thou seest yond.
What is't? - a spirit?
Lord, how it looks about!
Believe me, sir,
It carries a brave form.
But 'tis a spirit.
No, wench; it eats and sleeps
and hath such senses As we have,
such.
This gallant which thou seest Was in the wreck;
and but he's something stained with grief
that's beauty's canker,
thou mightst call him A goodly person:
he hath lost his fellows and strays about to find them.
I might call him A thing divine,
for nothing natural I ever saw so noble.
It goes on, I see, As my soul prompts it.
Hm?
Mm? No, no -
♪
Most sure, the goddess
On whom these airs attend!
Vouchsafe my prayer May know
if you remain upon this island;
And that you will some good instruction give
How I may bear me here:
my prime request,
Which I do last pronounce, is,
O you wonder!
If you be maid or no?
No wonder, sir; But certainly a maid.
My language! Heavens!
I am the best of them that speak this speech,
Were I but where 'tis spoken.
How? The best?
What wert thou, if the King of Naples heard thee?
A single thing, as I am now,
that wonders To hear thee speak of Naples.
He does hear me.
And that he does, I weep.
Myself am Naples.
Ah.
who with mine eyes, never since at ebb,
beheld the King my father wrecked.
Alack, for mercy!
At the first sight They have changed eyes.
Delicate Ariel,
I'll set thee free for this.
One word, sir;
I fear you have done yourself some wrong:
a word.
Why speaks my father so ungently?
This Is the third man that e'er I saw,
the first that e'er I sigh'd for.
Pity move my father to be inclined my way!
O, if a virgin, And your affection not gone forth,
I'll make you the queen of Naples.
They are both in either's powers;
but this swift business I must uneasy make,
lest too light winning Make the prize light.
One word, good sir!
thou dost here usurp The name thou owest not;
and hast put thyself upon this island as a spy,
to win it from me, the lord on't.
No, as I am a man.
There's nothing ill can dwell in such a temple:
If the ill spirit have so fair a house,
good things will strive to dwell with't.
Come Follow me.
Speak not you for him;
he's a traitor.
Come, I'll manacle thy neck and feet together:
Sea-water shalt thou drink;
thy food shall be The fresh-brook muscles,
wither'd roots and husks
Wherein the acorn cradled. Follow.
No; I will resist such entertainment
till mine enemy has more power.
O dear father,
Make not too rash a trial of him,
for He's gentle and not fearful.
What, I say - My foot my tutor?
Put thy sword up, traitor;
Which makest a show but darest not strike,
thy conscience Is so possess'd with guilt:
come from this posture,
For I can here disarm thee with this stick
And make thy weapon drop.
Beseech you, father.
Hang not on my garments.
Sir, have pity; I'll be his surety.
Silence!
What! An advocate for an imposter!
Hush! Ch-ch-ch-ch-ch!
Thou think'st there is no more such shapes as he,
Having seen but him and Caliban:
foolish wench!
To the most of men this is a Caliban
And they to him are angels.
My affections Are then most humble;
I have no ambition To see a goodlier man.
Come on; obey:
Thy nerves are in their infancy again
And have no vigour in them.
So they are;
My spirits, as in a dream,
are all bound up.
My father's loss, the weakness which I feel,
The wreck of all my friends,
nor this man's threats, To whom I am subdued,
are but light to me,
Might I but through my prison once a day
Behold this maid:
all corners else o' the earth
Let liberty make use of;
space enough Have I in such a prison.
Come on. Follow me!
Be of comfort;
My father's of a better nature, sir,
Than he appears by speech:
Oh come on!
Speak not for him.
It works.
Thou shalt be as free as mountain winds.
♪
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.
Prithee, peace.
He receives comfort like cold porridge.
Look Gonzalo's winding up the watch of his wit;
by and by it will strike.
Sir,--
One.One.
When every grief is entertain'd that's offer'd,
Comes to the entertainer-
A dollar.
Dolour comes to him, indeed:
you have spoken truer than you purposed.
You have taken it wiselier than I meant you should.
Therefore, my lord,--
Fie, what a spendthrift is he of his tongue!
I prithee, spare.
Well, I have done:
but yet,--
He will be talking.
Which, of he or Adrian, for a good wager,
first begins to crow?
The old cock. The cockerel.
Done.
Though this island seem to be desert,--
Ha, ha, ha! So, you're paid.
Uninhabitable and almost inaccessible,--
Yet,--Yet, --
He could not miss't.
It must needs be of subtle, tender
and delicate temperance.
Temperance was a delicate wench.
Ay, and a subtle;
as he most learnedly delivered.
The air breathes upon us here most sweetly.
As if it had lungs and rotten ones.
Or as 'twere perfumed by a fen.
Here is everything advantageous to life.
True; save means to live.
Of that there's none, or little.
How lush and lusty the grass looks!
How green!
The ground indeed is tawny.
With an eye of green in't.
He misses not much.
No; he doth but mistake the truth totally.
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.
'Twas a sweet marriage,
and we prosper well in our return.
Tunis was never before graced
with such a paragon to their queen.
Not since widow Dido's time.
'Widow Dido' said you?
She was of Carthage, not of Tunis.
This Tunis, sir, was Carthage.
Carthage?
I assure you, Carthage.
What impossible matter will he make easy next?
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.
And the rarest that e'er came there.
Is not, sir, my doublet
as fresh as the first day I wore it?
I mean, in a sort.
That sort was well fished for.
When I wore it at your daughter's marriage?
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?
Sir, your son 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 swoln that met him;
his bold head 'Bove the contentious waves he kept,
and oar'd Himself with his good arms
in lusty stroke To the shore,
that o'er his wave-worn basis bow'd,
As stooping to relieve him:
I not doubt He came alive to land.
♪
No, no, he's gone.
Sir, you may thank yourself
for this great loss,
That would not bless our Europe with your daughter,
But rather lose her to an African;
Where she at least is banish'd from your eye,
Who hath cause to wet the grief on't.
Prithee, peace.
You were kneel'd to
and importuned otherwise By all of us,
and the fair soul herself
Weigh'd between loathness and obedience,
at Which end o' the beam should bow.
We have lost your son,
I fear, forever.
Milan and Naples have More widows in them
of this business' making
Than we bring men to comfort them:
The fault's your own.
So is the dear'st o' the loss.
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.
Very well.
And most surgeonly.
It is foul weather in us all, good sir,
When you are cloudy.
Foul weather?
Very foul.
Had I plantation of this isle, my lord,
-- He'ld sow't with nettle-seed.
Or docks, or mallows.
And were the king on't, what would I do?
'Scape being drunk for want of wine.
I' the 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, inheritance,
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;--
Yet he would be king on't.
The latter end of his commonwealth
forgets the beginning.
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 its own kind,
all foison,
all abundance,
To feed my innocent people.
No marrying 'mong his subjects?
None, man; all idle:
whores and knaves.
I would with such perfection govern, sir,
To excel the golden age.
Save his majesty!
Long live Gonzalo!
And,--do you mark me, sir?
Prithee, no more: thou dost talk nothing to me.
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.
'Twas you we laughed at.
Who in this kind of merry fooling am nothing to you:
so you may continue and laugh at nothing still.
What a blow was there given!
An it had not fallen flat-long.
You are gentlemen of brave metal;
you would lift the moon out of her sphere,
if she would continue in it five weeks without changing.
Nay, good my lord, be not angry.
No, I warrant you;
I will not adventure my
discretion so weakly.
Will you...
laugh me asleep,
for I am very...
♪
heavy?
Go sleep, and hear us.
What, all so soon asleep!
I wish mine eyes would, with themselves,
shut up my thoughts:
♪
I find they are inclined to do so.
Please you, sir, Do not omit the heavy offer of it:
It seldom visits sorrow;
when it doth, It is a comforter.
We two, my lord, will guard your person
while you take your rest, And watch your safety.
Thank you.
Wondrous heavy.
What a strange drowsiness possesses them!
It is the quality o' the climate.
Why Doth it not then our eyelids sink?
I find not Myself disposed to sleep.
Nor I;
my spirits are nimble.
They fell together all,
as by consent; They dropp'd,
as by a thunder-stroke.
What might, Worthy Sebastian?
O, what might?
No more:--
And yet methinks I see it in thy face,
What thou shouldst be:
the occasion speaks thee, and my strong imagination
sees a crown Dropping upon thy head.
What, art thou waking?
Do you not hear me speak?
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.
Noble Sebastian,
Thou let'st thy fortune sleep-
die, rather; wink'st Whiles thou art waking.
Thou dost snore distinctly;
There's meaning in thy snores.
I am more serious than my custom:
you Must be so too, if heed me;
which to do Trebles thee o'er.
Well, I am standing water.
I'll teach you how to flow.
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.
Thus, sir:
Although this lord of weak remembrance,
this, Who shall be of as little memory
When he is earth'd,
hath here almost persuaded,--
the King his son's alive,
'Tis as impossible that he's undrowned
as he that sleeps here swims.
I have no hope That he's undrown'd.
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,
Will you grant with me That Ferdinand is drown'd?
He's gone.
Then, tell me, Who's the next heir of Naples?
His sister, Claribel.
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' the moon's too slow-
till new-born chins Be rough and razorable;
she that-from whom we all were sea-swallow'd,
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.
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.
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;
O, that you bore The mind that I do!
what a sleep were this For your advancement!
Do you understand me?
Methinks I do.
And how does your content Tender your own good fortune?
I remember You did supplant your brother Prospero.
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.
But, for your conscience?
Ay, sir; where lies that?
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 put to bed forever;
whiles you, doing thus,
To the perpetual wink might put
This ancient morsel, this Sir Prudence,
who Should not upbraid our course.
For the rest,
They'll take suggestion as a cat laps milk;
They'll tell the clock to any business
We say befits the hour.
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;
And I the king shall love thee.
Draw together;
♪
And when I rear my hand, do you the like,
To fall it on Gonzalo.
O, but one word.
My master through his art
foresees the danger That you, his friend, are in;
and sends me forth- For else his project dies-
to keep them living.
♪ While you here do snoring lie, ♪
♪ Open-eyed conspiracy His time doth take. ♪
♪ If of life you keep a care, ♪
♪ Shake off slumber, and beware: ♪
♪ Awake, awake! ♪
Then let us both be sudden.
Now, good angels Preserve the king.
Why, how now? Awake!
Why are you drawn?
Wherefore this ghastly looking?
What's the matter?
Whiles we stood here securing your repose,
Even now,
we heard a hollow burst of bellowing Like bulls,
or rather lions: did't not wake you?
It struck mine ear most terribly.
I heard nothing.
O, 'twas a din to fright a monster's ear,
To make an earthquake!
sure, it was the roar Of a whole herd of lions.
Heard you this, Gonzalo?
Upon mine honour, sir, I heard a humming,
And that a strange one too,
which did awake me:
I shaked you, sir, and cried:
as mine eyes open'd,
I saw their weapons drawn:
there was a noise, That's verily.
'Tis best we stand upon our guard,
Or that we quit this place;
let's draw our weapons.
♪
Lead off this ground;
and let's make further search For my poor son.
Heavens keep him from these beasts!
For he is, sure, i' the island.
Lead away.
Prospero my lord
shall know what I have done:
So, king, go safely on to seek thy son.
All the infections
that the sun sucks up
From bogs, fens, flats,
on Prosper fall
and make him By inch-meal a disease!
His spirits hear me
And yet I needs must curse.
But they'll nor pinch,
Fright me with urchin-shows,
pitch me i' the mire,
Nor lead me, like a firebrand,
in the dark Out of my way,
unless he bid 'em;
but For every trifle are they set upon me;
Sometime like apes that mow and chatter at me
And after bite me,
then like hedgehogs
which Lie tumbling in my barefoot way
and mount Their pricks at my footfall;
sometime am I All wound with adders
who with cloven tongues
Do hiss me into madness.
Ow!
Lo, no lo -
Here comes another spirit of his,
and to torment me For bringing wood in slowly.
I'll fall flat;
Perchance he will not mind me.
Here's neither bush nor shrub,
to bear off any weather at all,
and another storm brewing;
I hear it sing i' the wind:
yond same black cloud,
yond huge one,
looks like a foul bombard
that would shed his liquor.
If it should thunder as it did before,
I know not where to hide my head:
yond same cloud cannot choose
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 fish-like smell;
A strange fish.
Were I in England now,
as once I was,
and had but this fish painted,
not a holiday fool there but would give a piece of silver:
there would this monster make a man;
any strange beast there makes a man:
when they will not give a pence
to relieve a lame beggar,
they will lazy out ten to see a dead Indian.
Legged like a man
and his fins like arms!
He's warm!
O'my troth
I do now let loose my opinion; hold it no longer:
this is no fish,
but an islander, that hath lately suffered
by a thunderbolt.
Alas, the storm is come again!
My best way is to creep under his gaberdine;
there is no other shelter hereabouts:
misery acquaints a man with strange bed-fellows.
I will here shroud till the dregs of the storm be past.
♪I shall no more to sea, to sea, ♪
♪ Here shall I die ashore- ♪
This is a very scurvy tune to sing at a man's funeral:
well, here's my comfort.
♪ The master, the swabber, the boatswain and I, ♪
♪ The gunner and his mate ♪
♪ Loved Mall, Meg and Marian and Margery, ♪
♪ But none of us cared for Kate; ♪
♪ For she had a tongue with a tang, ♪
♪ Would cry to a sailor, ♪
♪ Go hang! ♪
♪ She loved not the savour of tar nor of pitch, ♪
♪ Yet a tailor might scratch her ♪
♪ where'er she did itch: ♪
♪ Well to sea, boys, ♪
♪ and let her go hang! ♪
This is a scurvy tune too:
but here's my comfort.
Do not torment me:
Oh!
What's the matter?
Have we devils here?
Do you put tricks upon's with
savages and men of Ind, ha?
I have not scaped drowning to be afeard now of your...
Four legs;
for it hath been said,
As proper a man as ever went on... four legs
cannot make him give ground;
and it shall be said so again
while Stephano breathes at's nostrils.
The spirit torments me; Oh!
This is some monster of the isle with four legs,
who hath got, as I take it,
an ague.
Well how the devil should he learn our language?
I will give him some relief,
if it be but for that.
if I can recover him and keep him tame
and get to Naples with him,
he's a present fit for any emperor
that ever trod on neat's leather.
Do not torment me, prithee;
I'll bring my wood home faster.
He's in his fit now
and does not talk after the wisest.
He shall taste of my bottle:
if he have never drunk wine afore
will go near to remove his fit.
If I can recover him and keep him tame,
Oh he shall pay for him that hath him, ay
and that soundly.
Thou dost me yet but little hurt;
thou wilt anon,
I know it by thy trembling:
now Prosper works up thee.
Come on your ways;
open your mouth;
here is that which will give language to you, cat:
open your mouth;
this will shake your shaking, I can tell you.
Ay, and that soundly:
you cannot tell who's your friend:
open your chaps again.
I should know that voice:
it should be- but he is drowned;
and these are devils: O defend me!
Four legs and two voices:
it's a most delicate monster!
His forward voice now is to speak well of his friend;
his backward voice is to utter foul speeches
and to detract.
If all the wine in my bottle will recover him,
I will help his ague.
Come. Come on. There you go.
Amen!
I will pour some in thy other mouth.
Stephano!
Doth thy other mouth call me?
Mercy, mercy!
This is a devil, and no monster:
I will leave him;
I have no long spoon.
Stephano!
If thou beest Stephano,
touch me and speak to me:
for I am Trinculo-
be not afeard- thy good friend Trinculo.
If thou beest Trinculo, come forth:
I'll pull thee by...
the rounder legs:
if any be Trinculo's legs,
these be they.
Thou art very Trinculo indeed!
How camest thou to be
the turd of this moon-calf?
Can he vent Trinculos?
I took him to be killed with a thunder-stroke.
But art thou not drowned, Stephano?
I hope now thou art not drowned.
Is the storm overblown?
I hid me under the dead moon-calf's gaberdine
for fear of the storm.
But art thou living, Stephano?
O Stephano, two Neapolitans 'scaped!
Prithee, do not turn me about;
my stomach is not constant.
These be fine things,
an if they be not sprites.
That's a brave god
and bears celestial liquor.
I will kneel to him.
How didst thou 'scape?
How camest thou hither?
swear on this bottle how thou camest hither.
I escaped upon a butt of sack
which the sailors heaved o'erboard,
by this bottle;
I'll swear upon that bottle to be thy true subject;
for the liquor is not earthly.
Swear then how thou escapedst.
Swum ashore, man, like a duck:
I can swim like a duck, I'll be sworn.
Here, kiss the book.
Though thou canst swim like a duck,
thou art made like a goose.
O Stephano. hast any more of this?
The whole butt, man:
my cellar is in a rock by the sea-side
where my wine is hid.
How now, moon-calf!
how does thine ague?
Hast thou not dropp'd from heaven?
Ay, Out o' the moon, I do assurethee:
I was the man i' the moon when time was.
I have seen thee in her and
I do adore thee:
My mistress show'd me thee
and thy dog and thy bush.
Come on then, swear to that;
kiss the book:
Ah -
I will furnish it anon with new contents.
Swear -
By this good light, this is a very shallow monster!
I afeard of him! I'll show thee every fertile inch o' th' island;
And I will kiss thy foot:
I prithee, be my god.
By this light, a most perfidious drunken monster!
I'll kiss thy foot;
I'll swear myself thy subject.
Come on then; down, and swear.
A most scurvy monster!
I could find in my heart to beat him,--
Come, kiss.
But that the poor monster's in drink:
an abominable monster!
I'll show thee the best springs;
I'll pluck thee berries;
I'll fish for thee
and get thee wood enough.
A plague upon the tyrant that I serve!
I'll bear him no more sticks,
but follow thee,
Thou wondrous man.
I prithee, let me bring thee where crabs grow;
And I with my long nails
will dig thee pignuts;
Show thee a jay's nest and
instruct thee how To snare the nimble marmoset;
I'll bring thee To clustering filberts
and sometimes I'll get thee
Young scamels from the rock.
Wilt thou go with me?
I prithee, no more talking.
Lead the way.
Trinculo,
the King and all our company else being drowned
we will inherit here:
here; bear my bottle:
fellow Trinculo,
we'll fill him by and by again.
♪
♪ Farewell, ♪
♪ master, farewell. ♪
♪ Farewell... ♪
♪ Farewell master, ♪
♪ Farewell, farewell... ♪
Oh brave monster, lead the way.
♪
♪ No more dams I'll make for fish, ♪
♪ Nor fetch in firing, at requiring ♪
♪ Nor fetch in firing, at requiring ♪
♪ Nor scrape trenchering, nor wash dish ♪
♪ Nor scrape trenchering, nor wash dish ♪
♪ Ban, Ban, Ban Cal-Caliban ♪
♪ Ban, Ban, Ban Cal-Caliban ♪
♪ Has a new master - get a new man - ♪
♪ Has a new master - get a new man - ♪
♪ Freedom ♪
♪ drumming ♪
♪ Freedom ♪
♪ High day!♪
♪ High day!♪
♪ Freedom ♪
♪ Freedom ♪
♪ High day! High day!♪
♪ High day!♪
♪ Free-Free-Free- Dommmm! ♪
♪
There be some sports are painful,
and their labour Delight in them sets off:
some kinds of baseness Are nobly undergone
and most poor matters Point to rich ends.
This my mean task
would be as heavy to me as odious,
but the mistress which I serve
quickens what's dead
And makes my labours pleasures:
O, she is ten times more gentle
than her father's crabbed,
And he's composed of harshness.
I must remove Some thousands of these logs
and pile them up, upon a sore injunction:
my sweet mistress
Weeps when she sees me work,
and says, such baseness
Had never like executor.
I forget:
But these sweet thoughts do even refresh my labours,
Most busy lest, when I do it.
Alas, now, pray you,
Work not so hard:
I would the lightning had Burnt up those logs
that you are enjoin'd to pile!
Pray, set it down and rest you:
My father Is hard at study;
pray now, rest yourself;
He's safe for these three hours.
O most dear mistress,
The sun will set before I shall discharge
What I must strive to do.
If you'll sit down, I'll bear your logs the while:
pray, give me that;
I'll carry it to the pile.
No, precious creature;
I had rather crack my sinews,
break my back,
Than you should such dishonour undergo,
While I sit lazy by.
It would become me As well as it does you:
and I should do it With much more ease;
for my good will is to it, And yours it is against.
Poor worm, thou art infected!
You look wearily.
No, noble mistress;
'tis fresh morning with me
When you are by at night.
I do beseech you-
Chiefly that I might set it in my prayers-
What is your name?
Miranda.
-O my father, I have broke your hest to say so!
Admired Miranda!
Indeed the top of admiration!
Worth what's dearest to the world!
Full many a lady I have eyed with best regard
and many a time the harmony of their tongues
hath into bondage Brought my too diligent ear:
for several virtues Have I liked several women;
never any With so full soul,
but some defect in her Did quarrel
with the noblest grace she owed
And put it to the foil:
but you, O you,
So perfect and so peerless,
are created Of every creature's best!
I do not know One of my sex;
no woman's face remember,
Save, from my glass, mine own;
nor have I seen More that I may call men
than you, good friend,
And my dear father:
how features are abroad,
I am skilless of;
but, by my modesty,
The jewel in my dower,
I would not wish any companion in the world but you,
Nor can imagination form a shape,
Besides yourself, to like of.
But what I prattle Something too wildly
and my father's precepts I therein do forget.
Hear my soul speak:
The very instant that I saw you,
did my heart fly to your service;
there resides, To make me slave to it;
and for your sake Am I this patient log-man.
Do you love me?
O heaven, O earth,
bear witness to this sound
And crown what I profess with kind event
If I speak true!
if hollowly,
invert what best is boded me to mischief!
I Beyond all limit of what else i' the world
Do love, prize,
honour you.
I am a fool to weep at what I am glad of.
Fair encounter Of two most rare affections!
Heavens rain grace on that which breeds between 'em!
Wherefore weep you?
At mine unworthiness
which dare not offer What I desire to give,
and much less take What I shall die to want.
But this is trifling;
And all the more it seeks to hide itself,
The bigger bulk it shows.
Hence, bashful cunning!
And prompt me, plain and holy innocence!
I am your wife, if you will marry me;
If not, I'll die your maid:
to be your fellow You may deny me;
but I'll be your servant, Whether you will or no.
My mistress, dearest; And I thus humble ever.
My husband, then?
Ay, with a heart as willing As bondage e'er of freedom:
here's my hand.
And mine,
with my heart in't;
and so farewell
Till half an hour hence.
A thousand thousand!
So glad of this as they I cannot be,
Who are surprised withal;
I'll to my book,
For yet ere supper-time must I perform
Much business appertaining.
♪
♪ Caliban, Stephano and Trinculo singing ♪
Tell not me;
when the butt is out, we will drink water;
not a drop before: therefore
bear up, and board 'em.
A drink to me, servant monster.
Servant-monster!
the folly of this island!
They say there's but five upon this isle:
we are three of them;
if th' other two be brained like us,
the state totters.
Drink, drink when I bid thee, servant monster.
O thy eyes are almost set in thy head.
Where should they be set else?
he were a brave monster indeed,
if they were set in his tail.
My man-monster hath drown'd his tongue in sack:
for my part, the sea cannot drown me;
I swam, ere I could recover the shore,
five and thirty leagues
off and on.
By this light, thou shalt be my lieutenant,
monster, or my standard.
Your lieutenant, if you list;
he's no standard.
We'll not run, Monsieur Monster.
Nor walk neither;
but you'll lie like dogs and say nothing neither.
Moon-calf, speak once in thy life,
if thou beest a good moon-calf.
How does thy honour?
Let me lick thy shoe.
I'll not serve him;
he's not valiant.
Thou liest!
I am in case to justle a constable.
Why, thou deboshed fish thou,
was there ever man a coward that hath drunk
so much sack as I to-day?
Wilt thou tell a monstrous lie,
being but half a fish and half a monster?
Lo, how he mocks me!
wilt thou let him, my lord?
'Lord' quoth he!
A most ignorant monster!
Lo, lo, again!
bite him to death, I prithee.
Trinculo, keep a good tongue in your head:
if you prove a mutineer,--
the next tree!
The poor monster is my subject.
He shall not suffer indignity.
I thank my noble lord.
Wilt thou be pleased to hearken once again
to the suit I made to thee?
Marry, will I kneel and repeat it;
I will stand,
and so shall Trinculo.
As I told thee before,
I am subject to a tyrant,
a sorcerer,
that by his cunning hath cheated me of the island.
Thou liest.
Thou liest,
thou jesting monkey, thou:
I would my valiant master would destroy thee!
I do not lie.
Trinculo, trouble him in's tale one more
and by this hand,
I shall supplant some of your teeth.
Why, I said nothing.
Mum, then, and no more.
Proceed.
I say, by sorcery he got this isle;
From me he got it.
if thy greatness will Revenge it on him, --
for I know thou darest, But this thing dare not,--
That's most certain.
Thou shalt be lord of it and I'll serve thee.
How now shall this be compassed?
Canst thou bring me to the party?
Yea, yea, my lord:
I'll yield him thee asleep,
Where thou mayst knock a nail into his bead.
Thou liest;
What a pied ninny's this!
Thou scurvy patch!
I do beseech thy greatness, give him blows
And take his bottle from him:
Ah!
when that's gone he shall drink nought but brine;
for I'll not show him Where the quick freshes are.
Trinculo, run into no furtherdanger:
interrupt the monster one word further,
and by this hand,
I shall turn my mercy out o' doors
and I'll make a stock-fish of thee.
Why, what did I? I did nothing.
Didst thou not say he lied?
Thou liest.
Do I so? Take thou that.
Ah!
And that.
As you like this, give me the lie another time.
I did not give the lie.
Out o' your wits and hearing too?
Ah! A pox o' your bottle!
this can sack and drinking do.
A murrain on your monster,
and the devil take your fingers!
Ah!
Now then, forward with your tale.
I Prithee, stand farther off.
Beat him enough: after a little time I'll beat him too.
Stand farther.
Proceed.
Why, as I told thee,
'tis a custom with him, I' th' afternoon to sleep:
there thou mayst brain him,
Having first seized his books,
or with a log Batter his skull,
or paunch him with a stake,
Or cut his wezand with thy knife.
Remember first to possess his books;
for without them He's but a sot, as I am,
nor hath not One spirit to command:
they all do hate him As rootedly as I.
Burn but his books.
And that most deeply to consider
is the beauty of his daughter
He himself Calls her a nonpareil:
I never knew a woman,
But only Sycorax my dam and she;
But she as far surpasseth Sycorax
As great'st does least.
Is it so brave a lass?
Ay, lord; she will become thy bed, I warrant.
And bring thee forth brave brood.
Monster, I will kill this man:
his daughter and I shall be king and queen-
save our graces! --
and Trinculo and thyself shall be viceroys.
Dost thou like the plot, Trinculo?
Excellent.
Give me thy hand:
I am sorry I beat thee;
but, while thou livest,
keep a good tongue in thy head.
Within this half hour will he be asleep:
Wilt thou destroy him then?
Ay, on mine honour.
This will I tell my master.
Thou makest me merry;
I am full of pleasure:
Let us be jocund:
will you troll the catch You taught me but while-ere?
At thy request, monster,
I will do reason, any reason.
Come on, Trinculo, let us sing.
♪ Flout 'em and cout 'em ♪
♪ And scout 'em and flout 'em ♪
♪ Thought is free. ♪
That's not the tune.
♪
What is this same?
This is the tune of our catch,
played by the picture of nobody.
If thou beest a man,
show thyself in thy likeness:
if thou beest a devil, take't as thou list.
O, forgive me my sins!
He that dies pays all debts:
I defy thee.
Mercy upon us!
Art thou afeard?
No, monster, not I.
Be not afeard;
the isle is full of noises,
Sounds and sweet airs,
that give delight and hurt not.
Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments
Will hum about mine ears,
and sometime voices
That if I then had waked after long sleep,
Will make me sleep again:
and then, in dreaming,
The clouds methought would open
and show riches Ready to drop upon me
that when I waked,
I cried to dream again.
♪
This will prove a brave kingdom to me,
where I shall have my music for nothing.
When Prospero is destroyed.
That shall be by and by:
I remember the story.
The sound is going away; let's follow it,
and after do our work.
Monster, lead the way. We'll follow.
I would I could see this tabourer;
he lays it on.
♪
By'r lady, I can go no further, sir;
My old bones ache:
here's a maze trod indeed
Through forth-rights and meanders!
By your patience, I needs must rest me.
Old lord, I cannot blame thee,
Who am myself attach'd with weariness,
To the dulling of my spirits:
sit down, and rest.
Even here I will put off my hope
and keep it no longer for my flatterer:
he is drown'd Whom thus we stray to find,
and the sea mocks our frustrate search on land.
Well, let him go.
I am right glad that he's so out of hope.
Do not, for one repulse, forego the purpose
Which you resolved to effect.
The next advantage Will we take throughly.
Let it be to-night;
For now they are oppress'd with travel,
they will not, nor cannot,
use such vigilance As when they are fresh.
I say, to-night: no more.
♪ Solemn and strange music ♪
What harmony is this?
My good friends, hark!
Marvellous sweet music!
Give us kind keepers, heavens!
♪
What were these?
A living drollery.
Now I will believe That there are unicorns,
that in Arabia There is one tree,
the phoenix' throne,
one phoenix at this hour reigning there.
I'll believe both;
And what does else want credit,
come to me and I'll be sworn 'tis true:
travellers ne'er did lie,
Though fools at home condemn 'em.
If in Naples I should report this now,
would they believe me?
If I should say, I saw such islanders-
For certain these are people of the island-
Who, though they are of monstrous shape,
yet, note,
Their manners are more gentle-kind
than of Our human generation
you shall find many,
nay, almost any.
Honest lord, Thou hast said well;
for some of you there present
Are worse than devils.
They vanish'd strangely.
No matter, since they have left their viands behind;
for we have stomachs.
Will't please you taste of what is here?
Not I.
I will feed, Although my last:
no matter since I feel The best is past.
♪
Brother, my lord the duke,
Stand to and do as we.
♪
You are three men of sin,
whom Destiny,
That hath to instrument this lower world
And what is in't,
the never-surfeited sea Hath caused to belch up you;
and on this island
Where man doth not inhabit;
you 'mongst men Being most unfit to live.
I have made you mad;
And even with such-like valour
men hang and drown Their proper selves.
You fools!
I and my fellows Are ministers of Fate:
the elements of whom your swords are temper'd,
may as well Wound the loud winds,
If you could hurt,
Your swords are now too massy for your strengths
And will not be uplifted.
But remember-
For that's my business to you-
that you three From Milan
did supplant good Prospero;
Prospero!
Exposed unto the sea, which hath requit it,
Him and his innocent child:
for which foul deed
The powers delaying, not forgetting,
have incensed the seas and shores,
yea, all the creatures, Against your peace.
Thee of thy son, Alonso, They have bereft;
and do pronounce by me: Lingering perdition,
worse than any death Can be at once,
shall step by step attend you and your ways;
whose wraths to guard you from-
Which here, in this most desolate isle,
else falls Upon your heads-
is nothing but heart-sorrow
And a clear life ensuing.
Bravely the figure of his harpy
hast thou performed, my Ariel;
a grace it had, devouring.
Of my instruction hast thou nothing bated
In what thou hadst to say:
My high charms work And these mine enemies
are all knit up In their distractions;
they now are in my power;
And in these fits I leave them,
while I visit Young Ferdinand,
whom they suppose is drown'd,
And his and mine loved darling.
I' the name of something holy, sir,
why stand you In this strange stare?
O, it is monstrous, monstrous:
Methought the billows spoke and told me of it;
The winds did sing it to me, and the thunder,
That deep and dreadful organ-pipe,
pronounced The name of Prosper:
it did bass my trespass.
Therefore my son i' the ooze is bedded,
and I'll seek him deeper than e'er plummet sounded
And with him there lie mudded.
But one fiend at a time,
I'll fight their legions o'er.
I'll be thy second.
All three of them are desperate:
their great guilt,
Like poison given to work a great time after,
Now 'gins to bite the spirits.
I do beseech you That are of suppler joints,
follow them swiftly And hinder them from what
this ecstasy may now provoke them to.
Follow, I pray you.
♪
♪
♪
♪
If I have too austerely punish'd you,
Your compensation makes amends,
for I Have given you here a third of mine own life,
Or that for which I live;
all thy vexations
have been but my trials of thy love
and thou Hast strangely stood the test
here, afore Heaven,
I ratify this my rich gift.
O Ferdinand, Do not smile at me that I boast of her,
For thou shalt find she will outstrip all praise
And make it halt behind her.
I do believe it Against an oracle.
Then, as my gift and thine own acquisition
Worthily purchased
take my daughter:
but...
If thou dost break her virgin-knot
before all sanctimonious ceremonies may
With full and holy rite be minister'd,
No sweet aspersion shall the heavens let fall
To make this contract grow: but barren hate,
Sour-eyed disdain and discord shall bestrew
The union of your bed
with weeds so loathly
That you shall hate it both:
therefore take heed,
As Hymen's lamps shall light you.
As I hope For quiet days,
fair issue and long life,
With such love as 'tis now,
the murkiest den,
The most opportune place, the strong'st suggestion.
Our worser genius can,
shall never melt Mine honour into lust,
to take away the edge of that day's celebration
Fairly spoke.
Sit then and talk with her;
she is thine own.
What, Ariel!
My industrious servant, Ariel!
Here I am.
What would, my potent master?
Go bring the rabble, O'er whom I give thee power,
here to this place:
Incite them to quick motion;
for I must bestow upon the eyes of this young couple
Some vanity of mine art: it is my promise,
And they expect it from me.
Presently?
Ay, with a twink.
Before you can say 'come' and 'go,
' And breathe twice and cry 'so, so,'
Each one, tripping on his toe,
Will be here with mop and mow.
Do you love me, master?
No?
Dearly my delicate Ariel.
But do not approach Till thou dost hear me call.
Well, I conceive.
Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah!
Look thou be true; do not give dalliance
too much the rein.
be more abstemious, Or else,
good night your vow!
I warrant you sir;
The white cold virgin snow upon my heart
Abates the ardour of my liver.
Ah...
Well.
All eyes! Be silent.
Appear!
♪
Ceres, most bounteous lady,
thy rich leas Of wheat, rye, barley,
vetches, oats and peas;
Thy turfy mountains, where live nibbling sheep,
And flat meads thatch'd with stover,
them to keep;
Juno Queen o' the sky,
Whose watery arch and messenger am I,
Bids thee leave these,
and with her sovereign grace,
Here on this grass-plot, in this very place,
To come and sport:
her peacocks fly amain:
Approach, rich Ceres,
her to entertain.
Hail, many-colour'd messenger,
that ne'er Dost disobey the wife of Jupiter;
Who with thy saffron wings upon my flowers
Diffusest honey-drops, refreshing showers,
why hath thy queen Summon'd me hither,
to this short-grass'd green?
A contract of true love to celebrate;
And some donation freely to estate
On the blest lovers.
High'st queen of state,
Great Juno, comes;
How does my bounteous sister?
Go with me To bless this twain,
that they may prosperous be
And honour'd in their issue.
♪
♪ Honour, riches, marriage-blessing, ♪
♪ Long continuance, and increasing, ♪
♪ Hourly joys be still upon you! ♪
♪ Juno sings her blessings upon you. ♪
♪
This is a most majestic vision,
and harmonious charmingly.
May I be bold To think these spirits?
Spirits, which by mine art
I have call'd to enact My present fancies.
Let me live here ever;
So rare a wonder'd father and a wife
Makes this place Paradise.
♪
♪ Earth's increase, foison plenty, ♪
♪ barns and garners never empty, ♪
♪ vines with clust'ring bunches growing, ♪
♪ plants with goodly burden bowing; ♪
♪
♪ Spring come to you at the farthest, ♪
♪ in every end of harvest! ♪
♪ Scarcity and want shall shun you. ♪
♪ Ceres blessing so is on you. ♪
♪
Enough! No more!
Be gone!
I had forgot the foul conspiracy
of the beast Caliban and his confederates
against my life.
The minute of their plot is almost come.
No more! No more! No more!
This is strange: your father's in some passion
That moves him strongly.
Never till this day Saw I him touch'd with anger
so distemper'd.
You do look, my son,
in a moved sort,
As if you were dismay'd:
be cheerful, sir.
Our revels now are ended.
These our actors, As I foretold you,
were all spirits
and Are melted into air,
into thin air:
And like the baseless fabric of this vision,
The cloud-capp'd towers,
the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples,
the great globe itself,
Ye all which it inherit, shall dissolve
and like this insubstantial pageant faded,
Leave not a rack behind.
We are such stuff As dreams are made on,
and our little life Is
rounded with a sleep.
Sir, I am vex'd;
Bear with my weakness;
my ol' brain is troubled:
Be not disturb'd with my infirmity:
If you be pleased, retire you to my cell
And there repose awhile.
♪
A turn or two I'll take,
To still my beating mind.
We wish your peace.
Come with a thought
I thank thee, Ariel: come.
Thy thoughts I cleave to.
What's thy pleasure?
Spirit, We must prepare to meet with Caliban.
Ay, my commander.
Say again, where didst thou leave these varlets?
I told you, sir, they were red-hot with drinking;
So full of valour that they smote the air
For breathing in their faces;
beat the ground For kissing of their feet;
yet always bending Towards their project.
so I charm'd their ears That calf-like
they my lowing follow'd through tooth'd briers,
sharp furzes, pricking goss and thorns,
Which entered their frail shins:
at last I left them I' the filthy-mantled pool
beyond your cell,
There dancing up to the chins,
that the foul lake O'erstunk their feet.
This was well done, my bird.
Thy shape invisible retain thou still:
The trumpery in my house,
go bring it hither, as means to catch these thieves.
I go, I go.
A devil, a born devil,
on whom my pains, Humanely taken,
all, all lost,
quite lost;
And as with age
his body uglier grows,
So his mind cankers.
I will plague them all,
Even to roaring.
Pray you, t read softly,
that the blind mole may not Hear a foot fall:
we now are near his cell.
Monster, your fairy,
which you say is a harmless fairy,
has done little better than played the Jack with us.
Monster, I do smell all horse-piss;
at which my nose is in great indignation.
So is mine.
Do you hear, monster?
If I should take a displeasure against you,
look you,--
Thou wert but a lost monster.
Good my lord, give me thy favour still.
Be patient, for the prize I'll bring thee to
Shall hoodwink this mischance:
therefore speak softly.
All's hush'd as midnight yet.
Ay, but to lose our bottles in the pool, --
There is not only disgrace and dishonour in that,
monster, but an infinite loss.
That's more to me than my wetting:
and this is your harmless fairy, monster.
I shall fetch after my bottle,
though I be o'er ears for my labour.
Good , my king, be quiet.
Seest thou here, This is the mouth o' the cell:
no noise, and enter.
Do that good mischief
which may make this island Thine own for ever,
and I, thy Caliban,
For aye thy foot-licker.
Give me thy hand.
I do begin to have bloody thoughts.
♪
O king Stephano!
O peer! O worthy Stephano!
look what a wardrobe here is for thee!
Let it alone, thou fool;
it is but trash.
O, ho, monster!
we know what belongs to a frippery.
O king Stephano!
Put off that gown, Trinculo;
by this hand,
I'll have that gown.
Thy grace shall have it.
The dropsy drown this fool
what do you mean to dote thus on such luggage?
Let it alone And do the murder first:
if he awake, From toe to crown
he'll fill our skins with pinches,
Be you quiet, monster.
Monster,
put some lime on your fingers,
and away with the rest.
Wit shall not go unrewarded
while I am King of this Country.
Put lime on his fingers,
tis a most excellent pass of pate.
Here is a garment for't.
We shall lose our time,
and all be turned to barnacles,
or to apes with foreheads villainous low.
Monster, lay to your fingers.
And help bear this away where my hogsead of wine is hid
or I'll turn you out of my kingdom.
Go to!
And help carry this.
And this.
And this.
Hey, Mountain, hey, mountain!
Silver! There it goes!
Silver!
Fury, Fury!
Fury, Fury!
There! There!
Tyrant, tyrant!
There!
Go charge my goblins that they grind their joints
With dry convulsions!
Aaaaaah!
Hark, they roar!
Let them be hunted soundly.
sAt this hour Lie at my mercy
all mine enemies.
♪
Shortly shall all my labours end,
and thou shalt have the air at freedom.
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 his followers?
Confined together
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;
Ah.
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,
be kindlier moved than thou art?
Ah.
The rarer action
is in virtue than in vengeance:
Go release them, Ariel:
I'll fetch them, sir.
They being penitent
the sole drift of my purpose
doth extend not a frown further.
♪
My charms I'll break,
theirs senses I'll restore,
and they shall be themselves.
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.
♪ solemn ♪
A solemn air
and the best comforter To an unsettled fancy
cure thy brains, Now useless,
which boil within thy skull!
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.
Their understanding Begins to swell,
and the approaching tide
Will shortly fill
the reasonable shore
That now lies foul and muddy.
There stand,
for you are spell stopped.
♪
Not one of them that yet looks on me,
or doth know me.
Ariel,
fetch the robe of office from my cell.
Quickly spirit!
Thou shalt ere long be free.
♪
♪ 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 from the bough. ♪
♪
Why, that's my dainty Ariel!
I shall miss thee:
So,
so, so.
To the king's ship, invisible as thou art
the master and the boatswain being awake,
enforce them to this place,
And presently, I prithee.
♪
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 to thy company
I bid A hearty welcome.
Whether thou beest 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,
Holy Gonzalo,
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,
which will not let you Believe things certain.
You are welcome, my friends all!
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.
The devil speaks in him.
No.
For you, most wicked sir,
whom to call brother
Would even infect my mouth,
I forgive Thy rankest fault;
all of them;
and require My dukedom of thee,
which perforce,
I know, Thou must restore.
If thou beest 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.
For I have lost a daughter.
A daughter?
O heavens, that were both living 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.
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.
You are Welcome, sir;
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 thee.
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.
O wonder!
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!
I have inly wept,
Or should have spoke ere this.
Look down, you gods,
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!
Amen!
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.
Give me your hands:
Let grief and sorrow still embrace his heart
That doth not wish you joy!
Be it so! Amen!
Amen!
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 on 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.
Sir, all this service Have I done since I went.
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'd strive to tell you.
We were dead of sleep, And- how we know not-
all clapp'd under hatches;
Where but with strange and several noises
Of roarings,
shriekings, howlings,
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.
Was't well done?
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;
I'll resolve you,
till then, be patient
and think of each thing well.
Come hither, spirit:
Set Caliban and his companions free;
Untie the spell.
Most gracious sir?
There are yet missing of your company
Some few odd lads
that you remember not.
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,
and 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 acknowledge mine.
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:
Why, how now, Stephano!
I prithee, touch me not.
For I am not Stephano, but a cramp.
You'ld be king o' the isle, sirrah?
I should be a sore one then.
This is a strange thing as e'er I look'd on.
He is as disproportioned in his manners
As in his shape.
Go, sirrah, to my cell;
Take with you your companions;
and 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.
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,
will 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.
I long 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
it shall catch Your royal fleet far off.
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 is 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.
♪
♪
♪
♪