| ALONSO | |
Old lord, I cannot blame thee, | 5 |
| | 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 | 10 |
| | Our frustrate search on land. Well, let him go. | |
| GONZALO | |
If in Naples | 35 |
| | I should report this now, would they believe me? | |
| | If I should say, I saw such islanders-- | |
| | For, certes, these are people of the island-- | |
| | Who, though they are of monstrous shape, yet, note, | |
| | Their manners are more gentle-kind than of | 40 |
| | Our human generation you shall find | |
| | Many, nay, almost any. | |
| ARIEL | |
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 | 70 |
| | Being most unfit to live. I have made you mad; | |
| | And even with such-like valour men hang and drown | |
| | Their proper selves. | |
| | [ALONSO, SEBASTIAN &c. draw their swords] |
| | You fools! I and my fellows | |
| | Are ministers of Fate: the elements, | 75 |
| | 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, | 80 |
| | 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; | |
| | Exposed unto the sea, which hath requit it, | 85 |
| | 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: | 90 |
| | 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 | 95 |
| | And a clear life ensuing. | |
| | [He vanishes in thunder; then, to soft music |
| | enter the Shapes again, and dance, with |
| | mocks and mows, and carrying out the table] |
| PROSPERO | |
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 | 100 |
| | 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 power; | |
| | And in these fits I leave them, while I visit | 105 |
| | Young Ferdinand, whom they suppose is drown'd, | |
| | And his and mine loved darling. | |
| | [Exit above] |
| ALONSO | |
O, it is monstrous, monstrous: | 110 |
| | 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 | 115 |
| | I'll seek him deeper than e'er plummet sounded | |
| | And with him there lie mudded. | |
| | [Exit] | |