Knowing I lov'd my books,
he furnish'd me from mine own library
with volumes that I prize
above my dukedom.
A Book of Water
This is a waterproof-covered book
which has lost its colour
by much contact with water.
It is full of investigative drawings
and exploratory text
written on many different
thicknesses of paper.
There are drawings of every
conceivable watery association
seas, tempests, streams, canals,
shipwrecks, floods and tears.
As the pages are turned,
there are rippling waves
and slanting storms.
Rivers and cataracts flow and bubble.
Plans of hydraulic machinery
and maps of weather-forecasting
flicker with arrows,
symbols and agitated diagrams.
The drawings are all made
by the same hand,
bounded into a book
by the King of France at Ambois
and bought by the Milanese Dukes
to give to Prospero
as a wedding present.
B o a t s w a i n ! B o a t s w a i n !
B o a t s w a i n !
Boatswain! Boatswain!
Boatswain!
Boatswain!
Boatswain!
Boatswain!
Boatswain!
Boatswain!
Boatswain!
Here, master; what cheer?
Here, master; what cheer?
Good! Speak to th' mariners;
Good! Speak to th' mariners;
fall to't yarely,
or we run ourselves aground;
fall to't yarely,
or we run ourselves aground;
Down with the topmast
bestir, bestir
Yare, lower, lower!
bestir, bestir
Bring her to try wi' th' maincourse.
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,
we are less afraid to be
drown'd than thou art.
Methinks he hath no drowning
mark upon him;
his complexion is perfect gallows
fall to't yarely,
or we run ourselves aground.
bestir, bestir
Heigh, my hearts!
cheerly, cheerly, my hearts!
Take in the topsail.
Tend to th' master's whistle.
Blow till thou burst thy wind,
if room enough.
Bound in a gold cloth and very heavy,
this book has some eighty
shining mirrored pages;
some opaque, some translucent,
some manufactured with silvered papers,
some covered in a film of mercury
that will roll off the page unless treated cautiously.
Some mirrors simply reflect the reader,
some reflect the reader as he will be in a year's time,
as he would be if he were a child, a monster, or an angel.
Where is the master, boson?
Do you not hear him?
You mar our labour;
keep your cabins;
you do assist the storm.
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 love than myself.
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 liv'd so long,
and make yourself ready in your cabin
for the mischance of the hour, if it so hap.
Out of our way, I say.
Take in the topsail. Tend
to th' master's whistle.
Cheerly, good hearts!
bestir, bestir
Heigh, my hearts!
Trouble us not.
Methinks he hath no drowning mark upon him;
his complexion is perfect gallows.
All lost! to prayers, to prayers!
- What, must our mouths be cold?
...we run ourselves aground;
- Tend to th' master's whistle.
We split, we split, we split!
3. A Memoria Technica called
Architecture and Other Music
When the pages are opened in this book,
plans and diagrams
spring up fully-formed.
There are definitive models of buildings
constantly shaded by moving cloud-shadow.
lights flicker in nocturnal urban landscapes
and music is played in the halls and towers.
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 th' 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!
Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea
for an acre of barren ground -
long heath, brown furze, any thing.
The wills above be done,
but I would fain die dry death.
Had I been any god of power, I would have sunk
the sea within the earth
or ere it should the good
ship so have swallow'd
and the fraughting souls within her.
Be conected;
No more amazement;
tell your piteous heart There's no harm done.
No harm.
I have done nothing but in care of thee,
Of thee, my dear one,
thee, my daughter,
who Art ignorant of what thou art,
nought knowing Of whence I am,
nor that I am more better Than Prospero,
master of a full poor cell,
And thy no greater father.
'Tis time I should inform thee farther.
Lend thy hand,
And pluck my magic garment from me.
So,
Lie there my art.
Wipe thou thine eyes; have comfort.
The direful spectacle of the wreck,
which touch'd The very
virtue of compassion in thee,
I have with such provision in mine art
So safely ordered
that there is no 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.
for thou must now know farther.
The hour's now come.
The very minute bids thee ope thine ear.
Obey, and be attentive.
Canst thou remember A time
before we came unto this cell?
I do not think thou canst,
for then thou wast not out three years old.
Had I not four, or five, women once,
that tended me?
Thou hadst, and more, Miranda.
But how is it That this lives in thy mind?
What seest thou else In the dark backward
and abysm of time?
If thou rememb'rest aught,
ere thou cam'st here,
How thou cam'st here thou mayst.
Twelve year since, Miranda,
twelve year since, Thy father was the Duke of Milan,
and A prince of power.
Thy mother was a piece of virtue,
and she said thou wast my daughter;
8. An Alphabetical Inventory of the Dead
8. An Alphabetical Inventory of the Dead
This is a funereal volume.
It contains all the names of the dead,
who have lived on earth.
The first name is Adam
and the last is Susannah,
Prospero's wife.
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 lov'd,
and to him put the manage of my state;
as at that time Through all the signories it was the first,
and Prospero the prime duke,
being so reputed
in dignity, and for the liberal
arts without a parallel,
those being all my study-
The government I cast upon my brother
and to my state grew stranger,
being transported and rapt in secret studies.
The Book of Colours
This is a large book bound in watered silk.
300 pages cover the colour spectrum
in finely differentiated shades
moving from black back to black again.
This is a thick, brown, leather-covered book,
stippled with gold numbers.
The pages flicker with logarithmic figures.
Angles are measured by needle-thin metal pendulums,
activated by magnets.
6. An Atlas Belonging to Orpheus
This atlas is full of maps of Hell.
It was used when Orpheus journeyed
into the Underworld to find Eurydice,
and the maps are scorched and charred by Hellfire
and marked with the teeth-bites of Cerberus.
Vesalius produced the first authoritative anatomy book;
it is astonishing in its detail, macabre in its single mindedness.
This Anatomy of Birth,
a second volume, is even
more disturbing and heretical.
It concentrates on the mysteries o f birth.
It is full of descriptive drawings
of the workings of the human body
which, when the pages open,
move and throb and bleed.
It is a banned book
that queries the unnecessary
processes of ageing,
bemoans the wastages associated with progeneration,
condemns the pains
and anxieties of childbirth
and generally questions
the efficiency of God.
Thy false uncle.
Being once perfected how to grant suits,
How to deny them,
who t' advance,
and who To trash for over-topping,
new created The creatures
that were mine, I say,
or chang'd 'em, Or else new form'd 'em;
having both the key Of officer and office,
set all hearts i' th' state To what tune pleas'd 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.
I pray thee, mark me.
I thus neglecting worldly ends,
all dedicated To closeness
and the bettering of my mind
With that which, but by being so retir'd,
O'er-priz'd all popular rate,
in my false brother Awak'd 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 lorded,
Not only with what my revenue yielded,
but what my power might else exact,
he did believe he was indeed the Duke;
To have no screen between this part
he play'd And him he play'd it for,
he needs will be Absolute Milan.
Me, poor man-my library
Was dukedom large enough-
of temporal royalties he thinks
me now incapable;
confederates, So dry he was for sway,
wi' th' King of Naples,
to give him annual tribute,do him homage,
subject his coronet to his crown,
and bend the dukedom, yet unbow'd,
alas, poor Milan!-
To most ignoble stooping.
a treacherous army levied,
one midnight fated to th' purpose,
did Antonio open the gates of Milan;
nd, i' th' dead of darkness,
The ministers for th' purpose
hurried thence me and thy crying self.
Wherefore did they not that hour destroy us?
My tale provokes that question.
Dear, they durst not, so dear the love my people bore me;
nor set a mark so
bloody on the business;
but with colours fairer
painted their foul ends.
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 th' sea,
that roar'd to us;
to sigh To th' winds, whose pity,
sighing back again,
9. A Primer of the Small Stars
Did us but loving wrong.
Alack, what trouble was I then to you!
O, a cherubin thou wast that did preserve me!
Thou didst smile, infused with
a fortitude from heaven,
when I have deck'd the sea with drops full salt.
Some food we had and some fresh water
that a noble Neapolitan,
Gonzalo, out of his charity, who being
then appointed Master of this design,
did give us, with rich garments,
linens, stuffs, and necessaries,
which since have steaded much;
so, of his gentleness,
Knowing I lov'd my books,
he furnish'd me from mine own library
with volumes that I prize
above my dukedom.
Here in this island we arriv'd;
and here have I, thy schoolmaster,
made thee more profit
Than other princess' can,
that have more time for vainer hours,
and tutors not so careful.
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.
10. The Book of Universal Cosmography
attempts to place all universal
phenomena in one system.
It is full of disciplined geometrical figures,
concentric rings that circle
and counter circle,
tables and lists organised in spirals,
catalogues arranged
on a simplified body of man,
in a structured universe where
all things have their allotted place
and an obligation to be fruitful.
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 curl'd clouds.
To thy strong bidding task Ariel
and all his quality.
Hast thou, spirit, 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 flam'd 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 lightning, the precursors
O' th' 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 play'd some tricks of desperation.
All but mariners plung'd
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 leapt; cried
'hell is empty,
and all the devils are here.'
Come unto these yellow sands,
And then take hands;
Curtsied when you have and kiss'd,
the wild waves whist,
foot it featly here and there,
and, sweet sprites, the burden bear.
Hark, hark!
The watch dogs bark.
Hark, hark! I hear
The strain of strutting chanticleer
Enter Ariel
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.
What the mariners, say
how thou hast dispos'd,
and all the rest o' th' 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
Bermoothes, there she's hid;
The mariners all under
hatches stowed,
who, with a charm join'd to their
suff'red labour, I have left asleep;
and for the rest o' th' fleet,
which I dispers'd,
they all have met again, and are upon
the Mediterranean flote
bound sadly home for Naples,
supposing that they saw
the King's ship wreck'd,
and his great person perish.
Ariel, thy charge exactly is perform'd;
but there's more work.
What is the time o' th' day?
- Past the mid season.
The time 'twixt six and now must
by us both be spent most preciously.
Is there more toil?
Since thou dost give me pains,
let me remember thee what thou hast
promis'd, which is not yet perform'd me.
What is't thou canst demand?
- My liberty.
Before the time be out? No more!
remember I have done thee worthy service,
told thee no lies,
serv'd 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 bak'd 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 Argier.
O, was she so? I must Once in a month
recount what thou hast been,
Which thou forget'st.
This damn'd witch Sycorax,
For mischiefs manifold, and sorceries
terrible to enter human hearing,
from Argier thou know'st was banish'd;
for one thing she did
they would not take her life.
This blue-ey'd 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 abhorr'd commands,
refusing her grand hests,
she did confine thee,
by help of her more potent ministers,
and in her most unmitigable rage,
into a cloven pine;
within which rift imprison'd thou didst
painfully remain a dozen years;
within which space she died,
and left thee there,
where thou didst vent thy groans
As fast as mill-wheels strike.
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.
Then was this island - save for the son
that she did litter here,
a freckl'd whelp, hag-born-not honour'd
with a human shape.
that Caliban whom now I keep in service.
It was mine art,
when I arriv'd and heard thee,
that made gape The pine,
and let thee out.
If thou more murmur'st,
I will rend an oak
and peg thee in his knotty entrails,
till thou hast howl'd away
twelve winters.
Pardon, master;
I will be correspondent to command,
and do my spriting gently.
Do so; and in two days I will discharge thee.
Awake, dear heart, awake;
Come on, we'll visit Caliban, my slave,
who never yields us kind answer.
What ho! slave! Caliban!
Thou earth, thou! Speak.
The Book of the Earth
A thick book
covered in khaki-coloured webbing,
its pages are impregnated
with the minerals, acids,
alkalis, gums, balms and
aphrodisiacs of the earth.
Come forth,
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!
This island's mine, by Sycorax my mother,
which thou tak'st from me.
When thou cam'st first, thou strok'st me
and made 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 lov'd thee, and show'd
thee all the qualities o' th' isle,
the fresh springs, brine-pits,
barren place and fertile.
Curs'd 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' th' island.
Thou most lying slave, whom stripes
may move, not kindness!
I have us'd thee, filth as thou art,
with human care,
and lodg'd thee in mine own cell,
till 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 peopl'd 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.
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.
And be quick, thou 'rt best,
To answer other business.
Shrug'st thou, malice?
If thou neglect'st,
or dost unwillingly what I command,
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 pow'r, it would control
my dam's god, Setebos,
and make a vassal of him.
Full fathom five
thy father lies;
Of his bones
are coral made;
This is a herbal to end all herbals,
The pages are stuffed with pressed plants
and flowers, corals and sea weeds,
It is a honeycomb, a hive, a garden
and an ark for insects.
It is an encyclopedia of pollen,
scent and pheromone.
Nothing of him that doth fade
but doth suffer a sea-change
but doth suffer a sea-change
into something rich and strange.
Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell:
Hark! now I hear them-Ding-dong bell.
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 stain'd With grief,
that's beauty's canker,
thou mightst call him A goodly person.
He hath lost his fellows,
And strays about to find 'em.
It goes on, I see,
as my soul prompts it.
I might call him a thing divine;
for nothing natural I ever saw so noble.
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, who with mine eyes,
never since at ebb,
beheld The King my father wreck'd.
This is a scented volume, with crimson ribbons for page-markers.
There is certainly an image in the book
of a naked man and a naked woman,
Everything else is conjecture.
O, if a virgin, and your affection not gone forth,
I'll make you The Queen of Naples.
They are both in either's pow'rs;
but this swift busines
I must uneasy make,
lest too light winning
make the prize light.
I charge thee that thou attend me;
thou dost here usurp
the name thou ow'st not;
and hast put thyself upon
this island as a spy,
to win it from me, the lord on't.
I'll manacle thy neck and feet together.
Sea-water shalt thou drink;
thy food shall be the fresh-brook mussels,
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;
Who mak'st a show but dar'st not strike,
thy conscience Is so possess'd with guilt.
Come from thy ward; For I can
here disarm thee with this stick
And make thy weapon drop.
Beseech you, father!
Sir, have pity; I'll be his surety.
Silence! One word more shall make me
chide thee, if not hate thee.
What! An advocate
for an impostor! hush!
Thou think'st there is
no more such shapes as he,
having seen but him and Caliban.
Foolish wench! To th' most
of men this is a Caliban,
and they to him are angels.
Come on; obey.
Thy nerves are in their infancy again,
And have no vigour in them.
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 subdu'd,
are but light to me,
might I but through my prison
once a day behold this maid.
All corners else o' th' earth
let liberty make use of;
space enough have I in such a prison.
- It works.
Thou hast done well, fine Ariel!
Thou shalt be as free as mountain air;
but then exactly do
all points of my command.
Follow me.
A Bestiary of Past, Present
and Future Animals
Thou shalt be as free as mountain winds;
but then exactly do
all points of my command.
To th' syllable.
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.
But the rarity of it is, which is
indeed almost beyond credit-
That our garments, being,
as they were, drench'd in the sea,
hold, notwithstanding,
their freshness and glosses,
being rather new-dy'd,
than stain'd with salt water.
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 grac'd before
with such a paragon to their queen.
Would I had never married
my daughter there;
for, coming thence, my son is lost;
Sir, he may live;
I saw him beat the surges under him,
and ride upon their backs;
he trod the water,
whose enmity he flung aside,
and breasted the surge
most swoln that met him;
his bold head 'Bove the contentious
waves he kept,
and oared himself with his good arms
in lusty stroke to th' shore,
that o'er his wave-worn basis bowed,
s 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;
You were kneel'd to,
and importun'd otherwise By all of us;
and the fair soul herself Weigh'd
between loathness and obedience
at Which end o' th' beam should bow.
We have lost your son,
I fear, for ever.
15. A Book of Utopias
This is a book of ideal societies.
every known and every
imagined political and
social community is
described and evaluated,
permitting a reader to sort and match
his own utopian ideal.
Had I plantation of
this isle, my lord -
And were the king on't,
what would I do?
I' th' commonwealth I would by
contraries Execute all things;
for no kind of traffic Would I admit;
no name of magistrate;
Letters should not be known;
riches, poverty, And use of service, none;
contract, succession,
Bourn, bound of land,
tilth, vineyard, none;
No use of metal, corn,
or wine, or oil;
No occupation; all men idle, all;
And women too, but innocent and pure;
No marrying 'mong his subjects?
None, man; all idle;
whores and knaves.
I would with such perfection govern,
sir, t' excel the golden age.
Will you laugh me asleep,
for I am very heavy?
What, all so soon asleep!
I wish mine eyes would, with themselves,
shut up my thoughts;
I find they are inclin'd 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.
Worthy Sebastian? Will you grant with me
That Ferdinand is drown'd?
He's gone.
Then tell me,
who's the next heir of Naples?
Claribel.
She that is Queen of Tunis;
she that dwells ten leagues
beyond man's life;
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.
'Tis true, my brother's
daughter's Queen of Tunis;
So is she heir of Naples; 'twixt which
regions there is some space.
Say this were death that
now hath seiz'd them;
why, they were no
worse than now they are.
What a sleep were this
for your advancement!
Do you understand me?
While you here do snoring lie,
I remember you did supplant
your brother Prospero.
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?
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,
While you here do snoring lie,
if he were that which now
he's like-that's dead;
Whom I with this obedient
steel, three inches of it,
can lay to bed for ever;
whiles you, doing thus,
to the perpetual wink for aye
might put this ancient morsel,
this Sir Prudence,
who should not upbraid our course.
For all the rest, they'll take
suggestion as a cat laps milk;
They'll tell the clock to any business
that we say befits the hour.
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;
Awake, awake!
preserve the King!
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;
16. A Book of Traveller's Tales
- Heard you this, Gonzalo?
Upon mine honour, sir,
I heard a humming,
I shak'd you, sir, and cried;
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!
His spirits hear me,
and yet I needs must curse.
All the infections
that the sun sucks up
From bogs, fens, flats,
on prosper fall, and make him
By inch-meal a disease!
His devils hear me,
and yet I needs must curse.
... yet I needs must curse.
But they'll nor pinch, Fright me with
urchin-shows, pitch me i' th' 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.
Here's neither bush nor shrub
to bear off any weather at all,
I know not where to hide my head.
What have we here?
A man or a fish?
This is no fish, but an islander, that
hath lately suffered by thunderbolt.
Alas, the storm is come again! My best
way is to creep under his gaberdine;
Have we devils here?
I have not scap'd drowning to
be afeard now of your four legs;
This is some monster of
the isle with four legs,
who hath got, as I take it, an ague.
Stephano.
Four legs and two voices;
a most delicate monster!
Stephano! If thou beest Stephano,
and speak to me; for I am Trinculo
If thou beest Trinculo, come forth;
if any be Trinculo's legs, these are they.
Thou art very Trinculo indeed!
Misery acquaints a man
with strange bed-fellows.
That's a brave god, and
bears celestial liquor.
I will kneel to him.
How now, moon-calf!
How does thine ague?
Hast thou not dropp'd from heaven?
- Out o' th' moon, I do assure thee;
I was the Man i' th' 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.
I'll show thee every fertile inch
o' th' island; and will kiss thy foot.
I prithee be my god.
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.
A most ridiculous monster,
to make a wonder of a poor drunkard!
I prithee let me bring
thee where crabs grow;
And I with my long nails
will dig thee pig-nuts;
Show thee a jay's nest, and instruct thee
how to snare the nimble marmoset;
I'll bring thee to clust'ring filberts,
and sometimes I'll get thee young
scamels from the rock.
Wilt thou go with me?
I prithee now, lead the way
without any more talking.
Trinculo, the King and all
our company else being drown'd,
we will inherit here.
No more dams I'll make for fish;
Nor fetch in firing At requiring,
Nor scrape trenchering,
nor wash dish.
'Ban 'Ban, Ca-Caliban,
Has a new master
Get a new man.
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.
work not so hard;
I would the lightning had burnt up
those logs that you are enjoin'd to pile.
My father Is hard at study;
pray, now, rest yourself;
He's safe for these three hours.
If you'll sit down,
I'll bear your logs the while;
No, precious creature; I had rather
crack my sinews, break my back,
than you should such dishonour undergo,
While I sit lazy by.
Full many a lady
I have ey'd with best regard;
and many a time th' harmony of their tongues
hath into bondage brought my too diligent ear;
for several virtues have I lik'd
several women, but you,
O you, so perfect and so peerless,
are created of every creature's best!
I do beseech you, chiefly that
I might set it in my prayers,
what is your name?
Miranda.
Admir'd Miranda!
indeed the top of admiration
Fair encounter of two
most rare affections!
Heavens rain grace on that
which breeds between 'em!
Do you love me?
O heaven, O earth, bear witness to this sound,
I, beyond all limit of what else i' th' world,
do love, prize, honour you.
I am a fool to weep at what I am glad of.
I am your wife, if you will marry me;
If not, I'll die your maid.
My mistress, dearest;
And I thus humble ever.
My husband, then?
Ay, with a heart as willing
as bondage e'er of freedom.
So glad of this as they I cannot be,
who are surpris'd withal;
but my rejoicing at nothing can be more.
An antiquarian's handbook, a checklist of the
ancient world for the Renaissance humanist
Full of maps and plans of the archaeological sites of the world,
an essential volume for the melancholic
historian who knows that nothing endures.
As I told thee before, I am subject to a tyrant, sorcerer,
that by his cunning hath cheated me of the island.
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 dar'st,
Thou shalt be lord of it, and I'll serve thee.
How now shall this be compass'd?
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 head.
'tis a custom with him I' th' afternoon to sleep;
there thou mayst brain him,
having first seiz'd 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 saw 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 will be King and Queen
and Trinculo and thyself shall be viceroys.
Dost thou like the plot, Trinculo?
- Excellent.
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 sometimes voices,
That, if I then had wak'd 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 wak'd,
I cried to dream again.
This will prove a brave kingdom to me,
where I shall have my music for nothing.
When Prospero is destroy'd.
he is drown'd Whom thus we stray to find,
and the sea mocks
Our frustrate search on land.
Well, let him go.
Now I will believe that there are unicorns;
travellers ne'er did lie, though fools at home condemn 'em.
If in Naples I should report this now,
would they believe me?
Will't please you taste of what is here?
- Not I.
Faith, sir, you need not fear.
When we were boys, Who would believe
that there were mountaineers, Dewlapp'd like bulls,
whose throats had hanging at 'em Wallets of flesh?
or that there were such men
whose heads stood in their breasts?
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 caus'd 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, or with bemock'd-at stabs Kill the still-closing waters,
as diminish one dowle that's in my plume;
my fellow-ministers Are like invulnerable.
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;
Thee of thy son, Alonso, They have bereft;
and do pronounce by me ling'ring 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's sorrow,
and a clear life ensuing.
O, it is monstrous, monstrous!
Me thought the billows spoke, and told me of it;
The winds did sing it to me;
and the thunder, That deep and dreadful organ-pipe,
pronounc'd The name of Prospero;
it did bass my trespass.
Therefore my son i' th' ooze is bedded;
and I'll seek him deeper than e'er plummet sounded,
and with him there lie mudded.
seek him deeper than e'er plummet sounded,
and with him there lie mudded.
Bravely the figure of this harpy hast thou perform'd, my Ariel;
a grace it had, devouring.
Of my instruction hast thou nothing
bated in what thou hadst to say;
so, with good life
and observation strange,
my meaner ministers
Their several kinds have done.
My high charms work, and these mine enemies
are all knit up in their distractions.
They now are in my pow'r;
If I have too austerely punish'd you,
your compensation makes amends;
for have given you here
a third of mine own life,
or that for which I live;
who once again I tender to thy hand.
All thy vexations were but my trials of thy love,
and thou hast strangely stood the test;
O Ferdinand!
Do not smile at me that I boast her off,
for thou shalt find she will outstrip all praise,
and make it halt behind her.
as my gift, and thine own
acquisition wort'hily purchas'd,
take my daughter.
But if thou dost break her
virgin-knot before...
...all sanctimonious ceremonies may
with full and holy rite be minist'red,
no sweet aspersion shall the heavens
let fall to make this contract grow;
but barren hate, sour-ey'd disdain, and discord,
...shall bestrew the union of your bed
with weeds so loathly...
...that you shall hate it both.
This is a blackened and thumbed volume
whose illustrations leave small ambiguity
as to the book's content.
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,
when I shall think or Phoebus' steeds
are founder'd or night kept chain'd below.
Fairly spoke.
Sit, then, and talk with her;
she is thine own.
What, Ariel!
my industrious servant, Ariel!
Ariel! Thou and thy meaner fellows
your last service did worthily perform;
and I must use you in such another trick.
Go bring the rabble, o'er whom I give thee pow'r,
incite them to quick motion;
for I must bestow upon the eyes of this
young couple some vanity of mine art;
Before you can say 'come' and 'go,'
This book drums against the bookcase shelf and
because it is always bursting of own volition,
has to be held down with a brass weight.
It describes how the eye changes its shape
when looking at great distances,
and how laughter changes the face.
it explains how ideas chase one another in the memory
and where thought goes when it is finished with.
codified and explained in animated drawings,
are all the possibilities for dance in the human body.
...will be here with...
...mop and mow.
Dearly, my delicate Ariel.
Do not approach till thou dost hear me call.
Ceres,
most bounteous lady,
Now, Ariel, come.
thy rich leas of wheat,
rye, barley,
vetches, oats, and pease;
Thy turfy mountains,
where live nibbling sheep,
and flat meads thatch'd with stover,
them to keep;
and thy broom groves,
Whose shadow
the dismissed bachelor loves...
This is a large book.
It is bound in a shining yellow cloth that,
when polished, gleams like brass.
It is a compendium of mythologies
with all their variants and alternative tellings;
cycle after cycle of interconnecting tales of
gods and men from all the known world,
from the icy North to the deserts of Africa,
with explanatory readings and symbolic interpretations.
...bids thee leave these
and with her
sovereign grace...
Look thou be true; do not give dalliance
too much the rein;
the strongest oaths are
straw to th' fire i' th' blood.
Be more abstemious, or else good night your vow!
Hail,
many-coloured messenger,
that ne'er Dost disobey
the wife of Jupiter;
Who, with thy saffron wings,
upon my flow'rs
Diffusest honey drops,
refreshing show'rs;
And with each end of thy blue bow
dost crown
My bosky acres
and my unshrubb'd down,
Rich scarf to my proud earth
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.
Tell me, heavenly bow,
If Venus or her son,
as thou dost know,
Do now attend the Queen?
Of her society Be not afraid.
I met her Deity Cutting the clouds towards Paphos,
and her son Dove-drawn with her.
Here thought they to have done some
wanton charm upon this man and maid,
whose vows are that no bed-rite shall be paid
till Hymen's torch be lighted;
but in vain. Mars's hot minion is return'd again;
Her waspish-headed son has broke his arrows,
swears he will shoot no more,
but play with sparrows, and be a boy right out.
but play with sparrows, and be a boy right out.
Highest Queen of State,
Great Juno, comes;
I know her by her gait.
How does my bounteous sister?
Go with me
to bless this twain,
that they may prosperous be,
And honour'den in their issue.
Honour,
riches,
marriage-blessing,
long continuance,
and increasing,
hourly joys be still upon you!
Juno sings her blessings on you.
Juno sings her blessings on you.
Earth's increase, foison plenty,
barns and gamers never empty;
Vines with clust'ring bunches growing,
plants with goodly burden bowing;
Spring come to you at the farthest,
in the very end of harvest!
Scarcity and want shall shun you,
Ceres' blessing so is on you.
Come, temperate nymphs,
and help to celebrate
A contract of true love;
be not too late.
be not too late.
be not too late.
be not too late.
I had forgot that foul conspiracy of the beast
Caliban and his confederates against my life;
You do look, my son, in a mov'd 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, yea,
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.
Spirit,
we must prepare to meet with Caliban.
Pray you, tread softly, that the blind
mole may not Hear a foot fall;
we now are near his cell.
Monster, I do smell all horse-piss at
which my nose is in great indignation.
Be patient, for the prize I'll bring
thee to shall hoodwink this mischance;
therefore speak softly.
All's hush'd as midnight yet.
Prithee, my king, be quiet. Seest thou here,
this is the mouth o' th' 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.
What do you mean To dote thus on such luggage? Let 't alone,
And do the murder first. If he awake, From toe
to crown he'll fill our skins with pinches;
Make us strange stuff.
- Be you quiet, monster.
We shall lose our time, and all be turn'd to barnacles,
or to apes with foreheads villainous low.
At this hour lies 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.
Say, my spirit, how fares
the King and 's followers?
Confin'd together In the same
fashion as you gave in charge;
Just as you left them;
all prisoners, sir,
Your charm...
...so strongly works 'em...
...that if you now beheld them...
...your affections...
...would become tender.
Your charm...
...so strongly works 'em...
...that if you now beheld them...
...your affections...
...would become tender.
Your charm so strongly works 'em...
...that if you now beheld them...
...your affections would become...
... tender.
And mine shall.
Hast thou, which art but air, a touch,
a feeling of their afflictions,
and shall not myself, one of their kind,
that relish all as sharply, passion as they,
be kindlier mov'd than thou art?
Though with their high wrongs
I am struck to th' quick,
yet with my nobler reason 'gainst
my fury do I take part;
the rarer action is in virtue
than in vengeance;
they being penitent,
the sole drift of my purpose...
... doth extend not a frown further.
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 be-dimm'd the noontide sun,
call'd forth the mutinous winds,
and 'twixt the green sea and
the azur'd 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-bas'd promontory
have I made shake,
and by the spurs pluck'd
up the pine and cedar.
Graves at my command
Have wak'd their sleepers,
op'd, and let 'em forth,
By my so potent art.
But this rough magic
I here abjure;
and, when I have requir'd 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 books.
The good ship so have swallow'd
A solemn air, and the best
comforter to an unsettled fancy,
cure thy brains, now useless,
boil'd within thy skull!
Those are pearls
that were his eyes;
There stand,
for you are spell-stopp'd.
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.
Knowing I lov'd
my BOOKS,
O good Gonzalo,
my true preserver, and a loyal
sir to him thou follow'st!
I will pay thy graces home
both in word and deed.
Most cruelly Didst thou, Alonso,
use me and my daughter;
Thy brother was a furtherer in the act.
Thou art pinch'd for't now, Sebastian.
Flesh and blood, you, brother mine,
that entertain'd ambition,
expell'd remorse and nature, who,
with Sebastian- whose inward pinches
therefore are most strong -
would here have kill'd your king,
I do forgive thee,
unnatural though thou art.
Their understanding begins to swell,
and the approaching tide will
shortly fill the reasonable shore...
...that now lies foul and muddy.
Not one of them That yet looks
on me, or would know me.
Ariel, I will discase me,
and myself present
As I was sometime Milan.
Quickly, spirit...
thou shalt ere long be free.
Where the bee sucks, there suck
In a cowslip's bell I lie;
There I couch when owls do cry.
On the bat's back I do fly
after summer merrily.
Merrily, merrily shall I live now
under the blossom
that hangs on the bough.
Why, that's my dainty Ariel!
I shall miss thee;
But yet thou shalt have freedom.
So, so, so.
To the King's ship,
invisible as thou art;
There shalt thou find the
mariners asleep under the hatches;
the master and the boatswain being awake,
enforce them to this place;
And presently, I prithee.
under the blossom
that hangs on the bough.
Behold, Sir King, The wronged
Duke of Milan, Prospero.
For more assurance that a living
prince does now speak to thee,
I embrace thy body; And to thee and
thy company I bid a hearty welcome.
Whe'er thou be'st 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,
th' affliction of my mind amends,
with which, I fear, a madness held me.
This must crave- An if this be at all -
a most strange story.
Thy dukedom I resign, and do entreat
thou pardon me my wrongs.
But how should Prospero
be living and be here?
First, noble friend,
Let me embrace thine age
whose honour cannot Be
measur'd or confin'd.
Whether this be or be not,
I'll not swear.
You do yet taste some
subtleties o' th' isle,
that will not let you
believe things certain.
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 do forgive thy rankest fault -
all of them;
and require my dukedom of thee,
which I know perforce thou must restore.
If thou beest Prospero, Give us
particulars of thy preservation;
How thou hast met us here, whom three
hours since were wreck'd upon this shore;
where I have lost - How sharp
the point of this remembrance is!
My dear son Ferdinand.
I am woe for't, sir.
Irreparable is the loss;
and patience says it is past her cure.
I rather think you have not sought her help,
of whose soft grace for the like loss...
I have her sovereign aid,
and rest myself content.
You the like loss!
- As great to me as late;
and, supportable to make the dear loss,
have I means much weaker than
you may call to comfort you,
for I have lost my daughter.
A daughter! O heavens,
that they were living both in Naples,
The King and Queen there!
That they were,
I wish myself were mudded in
that oozy bed where my son lies.
When did you lose your daughter?
In this last tempest.
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 wrecked,
was landed to be the lord on't.
My dukedom since you have given me again,
I will requite you with as good a thing;
At least bring forth a wonder,
to content ye as much as me my dukedom.
Sweet lord, you play me false.
No, my dearest 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.
22. A Book of Games
Though the seas threaten, they are merciful;
I have curs'd them without cause.
Now all the blessings Of a glad
father compass thee about!
Arise, and say how thou cam'st 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 Receiv'd a second life; and
second father This lady makes him to me.
I am hers.
But, O, how oddly will it sound that
I must ask my child forgiveness!
There, sir, stop; Let us not burden our
remembrances with a heaviness that's gone.
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!
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!
I prophesied, if a gallows were on
land, this fellow could not drown.
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.
Every man shift for all the rest,
and let no man take care for himself;
for all is but fortune.
Coragio, bully-monster, coragio!
If these be true spies which I wear
in my head, here's a goodly sight.
O Setebos,
these be brave spirits indeed
How fine my master is!
I am afraid he will chastise me.
What things are these, my lord Antonio?
Will money buy'em?
Very like; one of them is a plain fish,
and no doubt marketable.
Mark but the badges of these men,
my lords, then say if they be true.
This mis-shapen knave- His mother
was a witch, and one so strong...
...that could control the moon,
make flows and ebbs,
And deal in her command
without her power.
These three have robb'd me;
and this demi-devil -
For he's a bastard one -
had plotted with them to take my life.
Two of these fellows you must know and own;
this thing of darkness I acknowledge mine.
I shall be pinch'd to death.
- Go, sirrah, to my cell;
Take with you your companions;
as you look to have my pardon,
trim it handsomely.
Sir, I invite your Highness
and your train to my poor cell,
where you shall take your
rest for this one night;
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-belov'd solemnized,
and thence retire me to my Milan,
where every third thought
shall be my grave.
Sir, all this service have I done since I went.
Was't well done?
- Bravely, my diligence.
Thou shalt be free.
This is a thick, printed volume of plays dated 1623.
There are thirty-five plays in the book
and room for one more.
Nineteen pages are left
blank for its inclusion.
Right at the front of the book,
just after the prefix.
And this is the thirty-sixth play,
The Tempest.
Boatswain
Boatswain?
Here, master; what cheer?
All the other volumes have been
drowned and destroyed.
We still do have the last two books,
safely fished from the sea.
My Ariel, chick,
now to the elements be free
and fare thou well!
Please you, draw near.
Now my charms are all o'erthrown,
and what strength I have's
mine own, which is most faint.
Now 'tis true, I must be here
confin'd 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 reliev'd 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.