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And the remainder mourning over them,
Brim-full of sorrow, and dismay; but chiefly
Hin 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 them,

That, if you now beheld them, your affections
Would become tender.

Pro. Dost thou think so, spirit ?

Ari. Mine would, sir, were I human.
Pro. 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
the 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. Go, release them, Ariel; My charms I'll break, their senses I'll restore, And they shall be themselves.

Ari. I'll fetch them, sir.


Pro. 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 demy-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 noon-tide 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; oped, and let them 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 book.
[solemn music.
Re-enter Ariel: after him Alonso, with a frantic
gesture, attended by Gonzalo; Sebastian and
Antonio in like manner, attended by Adrian and
Francisco. They all enter the circle which Pros-
pero had made, and there stand charmed; which
Prospero observing, speaks.

A solemn air, and the best comforter
To an unsettled fancy, cure thy brains,

Begin to chase the ignorant fumes that mantle
Their clearer reason.—
-O my 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; [blood,
Thou'rt pinch'd for't now, Sebastian.- Flesh and
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



Unnatural though thou art!—Their understand-
Begins to swell: and the approaching tide
Will shortly fill the reasonable shores,
That now lie foul and muddy. Not one of them,
That yet looks on me, or would know me. Ariel,
Fetch me the hat and rapier in my cell;

[exit Ariel.
I will dis-case me, and myself present,
As I was sometime Milan:-quickly, spirit;
Thou shalt ere long be free.

Ariel re-enters, singing, and helps to attire Prospero. Ari. 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 on the bough.

Pro. 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 pr'ythee.

Ari. I drink the air before me, and return
Or e'er your pulse twice beat.


Gon. All torment, trouble, wonder, and amazeInhabit here: some heavenly power guide us [ment, Out of this fearful country!

Pro. 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.

Alon. Whe'r thou beest he, or no,
Or some enchanted trifle to abuse me,
As late 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
Be living, and be here?

Pro. First, noble friend,

Now useless, boil'd within thy skull! There stand, Let me embrace thine age; whose honour cannot

For you are spell-stopp'd.

Holy Gonzalo, honourable man,

Mine eyes, even sociable to the shew of thine, Fall fellowly drops. The charm dissolves apace; And as the morning steals upon the night, Melting the darkness, so their rising senses

Be measur'd, or confin'd. Gon. Whether this be,

Or be not, I'll not swear.

Pro. You do yet taste

Some subtilties o'the isle, that will not let you Believe things certain: welcome, my friends all::

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I'll tell no tales.

Seb. The devil speaks in him.
Pro. 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, perforce, I know,
Thou must restore.

Alon. 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.

Pro. I am woe for't, sir.

Alon. Irreparable is the loss; and Patience Says, it is past her cure.

Pro. I rather think,

[grace, You have not sought her help; of whose soft For the like loss, I have her sovereign aid,

And rest myself content.

Alon. You the like loss?

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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 [daughter?
Where my son lies. When did you lose your
Pro. In this last tempest. I perceive, these lords
At this encounter do so much admire,
That they devour their reason; and scarce think
Their eyes do offices of truth, their words
Are natural breath; but, howsoe'er you have
Been justled from your senses, know for certain,
That I am Prospero, and that very duke [strangely
Which was thrust forth of Milan; who most
Upon this shore, where you were wreck'd, was
To be the lord on't. No more yet of this; [landed,
For 'tis a chronicle of day by day,
Not a relation for a breakfast, nor
Befitting this first meeting. Welcome, sir;
This cell's my court: here have I few attendants,
And subjects none abroad: 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 ye,
As much as me my kedom.

The entrance of the cell opens, and discovers Fer-
dinand and Miranda playing at chess.
Mira. Sweet lord, you play me false.
Fer. No, my dearest love,

I would not for the world.

Mira. Yes, for a score of kingdoms, you should And I would call it fair play.

Alon. If this prove

A vision of the island, one dear son

Shall I twice lose.

Seb. A most high miracle!


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Fer. Sir, she's 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.

Alon. I am her's:

But O, how oddly will it sound, that I Must ask my child forgiveness!

Pro. There, sir, stop:

Let us not burden our remembrances
With a heaviness that's gone.

Gon. I have inly wept,

[gods, Look down, you

Or should have spoke ere this.
And on this couple drop a blessed crown;
For it is you, that have chalk'd forth the way
Which brought us hither!


Alon. I say, Amen, Gonzalo ! Gon. Was Milan thrust from Milan, that his 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.

Alon. Give me your hands: [to Ferd. and Mir. Let grief and sorrow still embrace his heart, That doth not wish you joy!

Gon. Be't so! Amen!

Re-enter Ariel, with the Master and Boatswain amazedly following.

O look, sir, look, sir; here are 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 by land? What is the news?

Boats. 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.

Ari. Sir, all this service Have I done since I went.

Pro. My tricksy spirit!

[asile. Laside.


Alon. These are not natural events; they strengthen,

Fer. Though the seas threaten, they are merciful; From strange to stranger,—say, how came y


Boats. 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 even now, with strange and several noises

Of roaring, shrieking, howling, gingling chains,
And more diversity of sounds, all horrible,
We were awak'd; straightway, at liberty;
Where we, in all her trim, freshly beheld
Our royal, good and gallant ship; our master
Cap'ring to eye her: on a trice, so please you,
Even in a dream, were we divided from them,
And were brought moping hither.

Ari. Was't well done?


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Do not infest your mind with beating on

The strangeness of this business; at pick'd leisure,
Which will be shortly, single I'll resolve you
(Which to you shall seem probable,) of every
These happen'd accidents; till when, be cheerful,
And think of each thing well. Come hither, spirit;

Set Caliban and his companions free:
Untie the spell. [exit Ariel.] How fares my gra-
There are yet missing of your company [cious sir?
Some few odd lads, that you remember not.
Re-enter Ariel, driving in Caliban, Stephano, and

Trinculo, in their stolen apparel.

Ste. Every man shift for all the rest, and let no man take care for himself; for all is but fortune. Coragio, bully-monster, Coragio!

Trin. If these be true spies which I wear in my head, here's a goodly sight.

Cal. O Setebos, these be brave spirits, indeed! How fine my master is! I am afraid

He will chastise me.

Seb. Ha, ha;

What things are these, my lord Antonio?
Will money buy them?

Ant. Very like; one of them

Is a plain fish, and, no doubt marketable. [lords,
Pro. Mark but the badges of these men, my
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


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Pro. You'd be king of the isle, sirrah? Ste. I should have been a sore one then. [on. Alon. This is as strange a thing as e'er I look'd [pointing to Caliban. Pro. He is as disproportion'd in his manners, As in his shape :-go, sirrah, to my cell; Take with you your companions; as you look To have my pardon, trim it handsomely. [after, Cal. Ay, that I will; and I will be wise hereAnd seek for grace. What a thrice-double ass Was I, to take this drunkard for a god, And worship this dull fool? Pro. Go to; away! [you found it Alon. Hence, and bestow your luggage where Seb. Or stole it, rather.

[exeunt Cal. Ste. and Trin.
Pro. 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, shall make
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 solemniz'd;
And thence retire me to my Milan, where
Every third thought shall be my grave.

Alon. I long

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Enter Leonato, Hero, Beatrice, and others, with a Messenger.

Leon. I LEARN, in this letter, that Don Pedro of Arragon comes this night to Messina.

Mess. He is very near by this; he was not three leagues off when I left him.

Leon. How many gentlemen have you lost in this action?

Mess. But few of any sort, and none of name. Leon. A victory is twice itself, when the achiever brings home full numbers. I find here, that Don Pedro hath bestowed much honour on a young Florentine, called Claudio.

Mess. Much deserved on his part, and equally remembered by Don Pedro: he hath borne himself beyond the promise of his age; doing, in the figure of a lamb, the feats of a lion: he hath, indeed, better bettered expectation, than you must expect of me to tell you how.

Beat. He set up his bills here in Messina, and challenged Cupid at the flight: and my uncle's fool, reading the challenge, subscribed for Cupid, and challenged him at the bird-bolt. I pray you, how many hath he killed and eaten in these wars? But how many hath he kill'd? for, indeed, I promised to eat all of his killing.

Leon. Faith, niece, you tax signior Benedick too much; but he'll be meet with you, I doubt it not. Mess. He hath done good service, lady, in these wars.

Beat. You had musty victual, and he hath holp to eat it he is a very valiant trencher-man, he hath an excellent stomach.

Mess. And a good soldier too, lady.

Beat. And a good soldier to a lady. But what is he to a lord?

Mess. A lord to a lord, a man to a man; stuffed with all honourable virtues.

Beat. It is so, indeed: he is no less than a

Leon. He bath an uncle here in Messina will stuffed man: but for the stuffing! Well, we are be very much glad of it.

Mess. I have already delivered him letters, and there appears much joy in him; even so much, that joy could not show itself modest enough, without a badge of bitterness.

Leon. Did he break out into tears?
Mess. In great, measure.

Leon. A kind overflow of kindness: there are no faces truer than those that are so washed. How much better is it to weep at joy, than to joy at weeping?

Beat. I pray you, is signior Montanto returned from the wars, or no?

Mess. I know none of that name, lady; there was none such in the army, of any sort. Leon. What is he that you ask for, niece? Hero. My cousin means signior Benedick, of Padua. [he was. Mess. O, he is returned, and as pleasant as ever

all mortal.

Leon. You must not, sir, mistake my niece: there is a kind of merry war betwixt signior Benedick and her: they never meet, but there is a skirmish of wit between them.

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Beat. No: an he were, I would burn my study. -But, I pray you, who is his companion? Is there no young squarer now, that will make a voyage with him to the devil?

Mess. He is most in the company of the right noble Claudio.

Beat. O Lord! he will hang upon him like a disease: he is sooner caught than the pestilence, and the taker runs presently mad. God help the noble Claudio! if he have caught the Benedick, it will cost him a thousand pound ere he be cured. Mess. I will hold friends with you, lady. Beat. Do, good friend.

Leon. You will never run mad, niece. Beat. No, not till a hot January. Mess. Don Pedro is approached. Enter Don Pedro, attended by Balthasar, and others; Don John, Claudio, and Benedick. D. Pedro. Good signior Leonato, you are come to meet your trouble. The fashion of the world fs to avoid cost, and you encounter it.

Beat. You always end with a jade's trick: I know you of old.

D. Pedro. This is the sum of all: Leonato,— signior Claudio, and signior Benedick,-my dear friend Leonato hath invited you all. I tell him, we shall stay here at the least a month; and he heartily prays some occasion may detain us longer. I dare swear he is no hypocrite, but prays from his heart.

Leon. If you swear, my lord, you shall not be forsworn. Let me bid you welcome, my lord; being reconciled to the prince your brother, I owe you all duty.

D. John. I thank you. I am not of many words, but I thank you.

Lcon. Please it your grace lead on?

D. Pedro. Your hand, Leonato; we will go together. [exeunt all but Benedick and Claudio. Claud. Benedick, didst thou note the daughter of signior Leonato?

Bene. I noted her not; but I looked on her. Claud. Is she not a modest young lady? Bene. Do you question me, as an honest man should do, for my simple true judgment? or would you have me speak after my custom, as being a will-professed tyrant to their sex?

Leon. Never came trouble to my house in the likeness of your grace: for, trouble being gone, comfort should remain; but when you depart from me, sorrow abides, and happiness takes his leave. D. Pedro. You embrace your charge too Ingly. I think, this is your daughter.

Leon. Her mother hath many times told me so. Bene. Were you in doubt, sir, that you asked her? Leon. Signior Benedick, no; for then were you a child.

D. Pedro. You have it full, Benedick: we may guess by this, what you are, being a man. Truly, the lady fathers herself; be happy, lady! for you are like an honourable father.

Bene. If signior Leonato be her father, she would not have his head on her shoulders, for all Messina, as like him as she is.

Beat. I wonder, that you will still be talking, signior Benedick; no body marks you. Bene. What, my dear lady Disdain! are you yet living?

Beat. Is it possible disdain should die, while she hath such meet food to feed it, as signior Benedick? Courtesy itself must convert to disdain, if you come in her presence.

Bene. Then is courtesy a turn-coat.-But it is certain, I am loved of all ladies, only you excepted; and I would I could find in my heart that I had not a hard heart; for, truly, I love none.

Beat. A dear happiness to women; they would else have been troubled with a pernicious suitor. I thank God, and my cold blood, I am of your humour for that; I had rather hear my dog bark at a crow, than a man swear he loves me.

Bene. God keep your ladyship still in that mind! so some gentleman or other shall 'scape a predestinate scratched face.

Beat. Scratching could not make it worse, an 'twere such a face as your's were.

Bene. Well, you are a rare parrot-teacher.
Beat. A bird of my tongue is better than a

beast of yours.

Bene. I would my horse had the speed of your tongue; and so good a continuer. But keep your way, o'God's name; I have done.

Claud. No, I pray thee, speak in sober judgment. Bene. Why, i'faith, methinks she is too low for a high praise, too brown for a fair praise, and too little for a great praise: only this commendation I can afford her; that were she other than she is, she were unhandsome; and, being no other but as she is, I do not like her.

Claud. Thou thnkest I am in sport; I pray thee tell me truly how thou likest her?

Bene. Would you buy her, that you inquire after her?

Claud. Can the world buy such a jewel? Bene. Yea, and a case to put it into. But speak you this with a sad brow? or do you play the flouting jack; to tell us Cupid is a good hare-finder, and Vulcan a rare carpenter? Come, iu what key shall a man take you, to go in the song?

Claud. In mine eye, she is the sweetest lady that ever I looked on.

Bene. I can see yet without spectacles, and I see no such matter: there's her cousin, an she were not possessed with a fury, exceeds her as much in beauty, as the first of May doth the last of December. But I hope you have no intent to turn husband; have you?

Claud. I would scarce trust myself, though I had sworn the contrary, if Hero would be my wife.

Bene. Is it come to this i'faith? Hath not the world one man, but he will wear his cap with suspicion?-Shall I never see a bachelor of threescore again?-Go to, i'faith, and thou wilt needs thrust thy neck into a yoke, wear the print of it, and sigh away Sundays.-Look, Don Pedro is returned to seek you.

Re-enter Don Pedro. D. Pedro. What secret hath held you here, that you followed not to Leonato's? [to tell. Bene. I would your grace would constrain me D. Pedro. I charge thee, on thy allegiance.

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