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Dramatis Personae
Alonso, King of Naples
Sebastian, his brother
Prospero, the right Duke of Milan
Antonio, his brother, the usurping Duke of Milan
Ferdinand, son to the King of Naples
Gonzalo, an honest old counsellor
Adrian, lord
Francisco, lord
Caliban, a savage and deformed slave
Trinculo, a jester
Stephano, a drunken butler
Master of a ship
Boatswain
Mariners
Miranda, daughter to Prospero
Ariel, an airy spirit
Iris, presented by spirits
Ceres, presented by spirits
Juno, presented by spirits
Nymphs, presented by spirits
Reapers, presented by spirits
Other spirits attending on Prospero
Scene: A ship at sea: an island.
The Tempest
ActI
SceneI
On a ship at sea: a tempestuous noise of thunder and lightning heard.
Enter a Ship-Master and a Boatswain.
Master
Boatswain!
Boatswain
Here, master: what cheer?
Master
Good, speak to the mariners: fall to’t, yarely, or we run ourselves aground: bestir, bestir. Exit.
Enter Mariners.
Boatswain
Heigh, my hearts! 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!
Enter Alonso, Sebastian, Antonio, Ferdinand, Gonzalo, and others.
Alonso
Good boatswain, have care. Where’s the master? Play the men.
Boatswain
I pray now, keep below.
Antonio
Where is the master, boatswain?
Boatswain
Do you not hear him? You mar our labour: keep your cabins: you do assist the storm.
Gonzalo
Nay, good, be patient.
Boatswain
When the sea is. Hence! What cares these roarers for the name of king? To cabin: silence! trouble us not.
Gonzalo
Good, yet remember whom thou hast aboard.
Boatswain
None that I more 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. Cheerly, good hearts! Out of our way, I say. Exit.
Gonzalo
I have great comfort from this fellow: methinks he hath no drowning mark upon him; his complexion is perfect gallows. Stand fast, good Fate, to his hanging: make the rope of his destiny our cable, for our own doth little advantage. If he be not born to be hanged, our case is miserable. Exeunt.
Re-enter Boatswain.
Boatswain
Down with the topmast! yare! lower, lower! Bring her to try with main-course. A cry within. A plague upon this howling! they are louder than the weather or our office.
Re-enter Sebastian, Antonio, and Gonzalo.
Yet again! what do you here? Shall we give o’er and drown? Have you a mind to sink?
Sebastian
A pox o’ your throat, you bawling, blasphemous, incharitable dog!
Boatswain
Work you then.
Antonio
Hang, cur! hang, you whoreson, insolent noisemaker! We are less afraid to be drowned than thou art.
Gonzalo
I’ll warrant him for drowning; though the ship were no stronger than a nutshell and as leaky as an unstanched wench.
Boatswain
Lay her a-hold, a-hold! set her two courses off to sea again; lay her off.
Enter Mariners wet.
Mariners
All lost! to prayers, to prayers! all lost!
Boatswain
What, must our mouths be cold?
Gonzalo
The king and prince at prayers! let’s assist them, For our case is as theirs.
Sebastian
I’m out of patience.
Antonio
We are merely cheated of our lives by drunkards: This wide-chapp’d rascal—would thou mightst lie drowning The washing of ten tides!
Gonzalo
He’ll be hang’d yet, Though every drop of water swear against it And gape at widest to glut him.
A confused noise within: “Mercy on us!” “We split, we split!”—“Farewell, my wife and children!”— “Farewell, brother!”—“We split, we split, we split!”
Antonio
Let’s all sink with the king.
Sebastian
Let’s take leave of him. Exeunt Antonio and Sebastian.
Gonzalo
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 a dry death. Exeunt.
SceneII
The island. Before Prospero’s cell.
Enter Prospero and Miranda.
Miranda
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 swallow’d and The fraughting souls within her.
