Homepage
Login
Profile
BookClubs
dmBox
Read Ebook: The Tempest by Shakespeare William
Font size:
Background color:
Text color:
Add to tbrJar First Page Next Page Prev Page
Ebook has 754 lines and 20727 words, and 16 pages
Gonz. Hee'l be hang'd yet, Though euery drop of water sweare against it, And gape at widst to glut him.
A confused noyse within.
Mercy on vs. We split, we split, Farewell my wife, and children, Farewell brother: we split, we split, we split
Anth. Let's all sinke with' King
Seb. Let's take leaue of him.
Enter.
Gonz. Now would I giue a thousand furlongs of Sea, for an Acre of barren ground: Long heath, Browne firrs, any thing; the wills aboue be done, but I would faine dye a dry death.
Enter.
Scena Secunda.
Enter Prospero and Miranda.
Mira. If by your Art you haue Put the wild waters in this Rore; alay them: The skye it seemes would powre down stinking pitch, But that the Sea, mounting to th' welkins cheeke, Dashes the fire out. Oh! I haue suffered With those that I saw suffer: A braue vessell Dash'd all to peeces: O the cry did knocke Against my very heart: poore soules, they perish'd. Had I byn any God of power, I would Haue suncke the Sea within the Earth, or ere It should the good Ship so haue swallow'd, and The fraughting Soules within her
Pros. Be collected, No more amazement: Tell your pitteous heart there's no harme done
Mira. O woe, the day
Pros. No harme: I haue done nothing, but in care of thee who Art ignorant of what thou art. naught knowing Of whence I am: nor that I am more better Then Prospero, Master of a full poore cell, And thy no greater Father
Mira. More to know Did neuer medle with my thoughts
Pros. 'Tis time I should informe thee farther: Lend thy hand And plucke my Magick garment from me: So, Lye there my Art: wipe thou thine eyes, haue comfort, The direfull spectacle of the wracke which touch'd The very vertue of compassion in thee: I haue with such prouision in mine Art So safely ordered, that there is no soule No not so much perdition as an hayre Betid to any creature in the vessell Which thou heardst cry, which thou saw'st sinke: Sit downe, For thou must now know farther
Mira. You haue often Begun to tell me what I am, but stopt And left me to a bootelesse Inquisition, Concluding, stay: not yet
Pros. The howr's now come The very minute byds thee ope thine eare, Obey, and be attentiue. Canst thou remember A time before we came vnto this Cell? I doe not thinke thou canst, for then thou was't not Out three yeeres old
Mira. Certainely Sir, I can
Mira. 'Tis farre off: And rather like a dreame, then an assurance That my remembrance warrants: Had I not Fowre, or fiue women once, that tended me?
Pros. Thou hadst; and more Miranda: But how is it That this liues in thy minde? What seest thou els In the dark-backward and Abisme of Time? Yf thou remembrest ought ere thou cam'st here, How thou cam'st here thou maist
Mira. But that I doe not
Pros. Twelue yere since twelue yere since, Thy father was the Duke of Millaine and A Prince of power:
Mira. Sir, are not you my Father?
Pros. Thy Mother was a peece of vertue, and She said thou wast my daughter; and thy father Was Duke of Millaine, and his onely heire, And Princesse; no worse Issued
Mira. O the heauens, What fowle play had we, that we came from thence? Or blessed was't we did?
Mira. O my heart bleedes To thinke oth' teene that I haue turn'd you to, Which is from my remembrance, please you, farther;
Pros. My brother and thy vncle, call'd Anthonio: I pray thee marke me, that a brother should Be so perfidious: he, whom next thy selfe Of all the world I lou'd, and to him put The mannage 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 liberall Artes, Without a paralell; those being all my studie, The Gouernment I cast vpon my brother, And to my State grew stranger, being transported And rapt in secret studies, thy false vncle
Mira. Sir, most heedefully
Pros. Being once perfected how to graunt suites, how to deny them: who t' aduance, and who To trash for ouer-topping; new created The creatures that were mine, I say, or chang'd 'em, Or els new form'd 'em; hauing both the key, Of Officer, and office, set all hearts i'th state To what tune pleas'd his eare, that now he was The Iuy which had hid my princely Trunck, And suckt my verdure out on't: Thou attend'st not?
Mira. O good Sir, I doe
Pros. I pray thee marke me: I thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicated To closenes, and the bettering of my mind with that, which but by being so retir'd Ore-priz'd all popular rate: in my false brother Awak'd an euill nature, and my trust Like a good parent, did beget of him A falsehood in it's contrarie, as great As my trust was, which had indeede no limit, A confidence sans bound. He being thus Lorded, Not onely with what my reuenew yeelded, But what my power might els exact. Like one Who hauing into truth, by telling of it, Made such a synner of his memorie To credite his owne lie, he did beleeue He was indeed the Duke, out o'th' Substitution And executing th' outward face of Roialtie With all prerogatiue: hence his Ambition growing: Do'st thou heare ?
Mira. Your tale, Sir, would cure deafenesse
Pros. To haue no Schreene between this part he plaid, And him he plaid it for, he needes will be Absolute Millaine, Me my Librarie Was Dukedome large enough: of temporall roalties He thinks me now incapable. Confederates with King of Naples To giue him Annuall tribute, doe him homage Subiect his Coronet, to his Crowne and bend The Dukedom yet vnbow'd To most ignoble stooping
Mira. Oh the heauens:
Pros. Marke his condition, and th' euent, then tell me If this might be a brother
Mira. I should sinne To thinke but Noblie of my Grand-mother, Good wombes haue borne bad sonnes
Pro. Now the Condition. This King of Naples being an Enemy To me inueterate, hearkens my Brothers suit, Which was, That he in lieu o'th' premises, Of homage, and I know not how much Tribute, Should presently extirpate me and mine Out of the Dukedome, and confer faire Millaine With all the Honors, on my brother: Whereon A treacherous Armie leuied, one mid-night Fated to th' purpose, did Anthonio open The gates of Millaine, and ith' dead of darkenesse The ministers for th' purpose hurried thence Me, and thy crying selfe
Mir. Alack, for pitty: I not remembring how I cride out then Will cry it ore againe: it is a hint That wrings mine eyes too't
Pro. Heare a little further, And then I'le bring thee to the present businesse Which now's vpon's: without the which, this Story Were most impertinent
Mir. Wherefore did they not That howre destroy vs?
Pro. Well demanded, wench: My Tale prouokes that question: Deare, they durst not, So deare the loue my people bore me: nor set A marke so bloudy on the businesse; but With colours fairer, painted their foule ends. In few, they hurried vs aboord a Barke, Bore vs some Leagues to Sea, where they prepared A rotten carkasse of a Butt, not rigg'd, Nor tackle, sayle, nor mast, the very rats Instinctiuely haue quit it: There they hoyst vs To cry to th' Sea, that roard to vs; to sigh To th' windes, whose pitty sighing backe againe Did vs but louing wrong
Mir. Alack, what trouble Was I then to you?
Pro. O, a Cherubin Thou was't that did preserue me; Thou didst smile, Infused with a fortitude from heauen, When I haue deck'd the sea with drops full salt, Vnder my burthen groan'd, which rais'd in me An vndergoing stomacke, to beare vp Against what should ensue
Mir. How came we a shore?
Mir. Would I might But euer see that man
Pro. Now I arise, Sit still, and heare the last of our sea-sorrow: Heere in this Iland we arriu'd, and heere Haue I, thy Schoolemaster, made thee more profit Then other Princesse can, that haue more time For vainer howres; and Tutors, not so carefull
Mir. Heuens thank you for't. And now I pray you Sir, For still 'tis beating in my minde; your reason For raysing this Sea-storme?
Enter Ariel.
Ari. All haile, great Master, graue Sir, haile: I come To answer thy best pleasure; be't to fly, To swim, to diue into the fire: to ride On the curld clowds: to thy strong bidding, taske Ariel, and all his Qualitie
Pro. Hast thou, Spirit, Performd to point, the Tempest that I bad thee
Add to tbrJar First Page Next Page Prev Page