The Tempest by William Shakespeare, 1564-1616

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 power;

And in these fits I leave them, while I visit

Young Ferdinand, whom they suppose is drown’d,

And his and mine loved darling.

Exit above

GONZALO I’ the name of something holy, sir, why stand you

In this strange stare?

ALONSO O, it is monstrous, monstrous:

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

I’ll seek him deeper than e’er plummet sounded

And with him there lie mudded.

Exit

SEBASTIAN But one fiend at a time,

I’ll fight their legions o’er.

ANTONIO I’ll be thy second.

Exeunt SEBASTIAN, and ANTONIO

GONZALO All three of them are desperate: their great guilt,

Like poison given to work a great time after,

Now ‘gins to bite the spirits. I do beseech you

That are of suppler joints, follow them swiftly

And hinder them from what this ecstasy

May now provoke them to.

ADRIAN Follow, I pray you.

Exeunt

Act 4

Scene 1

Before PROSPERO’S cell.

Enter PROSPERO, FERDINAND, and MIRANDA

PROSPERO If I have too austerely punish’d you,

Your compensation makes amends, for I

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 here, afore Heaven,

I ratify this my rich gift. 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.

FERDINAND I do believe it

Against an oracle.

PROSPERO Then, as my gift and thine own acquisition

Worthily purchased take my daughter: but

If thou dost break her virgin-knot before

All sanctimonious ceremonies may

With full and holy rite be minister’d,

No sweet aspersion shall the heavens let fall

To make this contract grow: but barren hate,

Sour-eyed disdain and discord shall bestrew

The union of your bed with weeds so loathly

That you shall hate it both: therefore take heed,

As Hymen’s lamps shall light you.

FERDINAND 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.

PROSPERO Fairly spoke.

Sit then and talk with her; she is thine own.

What, Ariel! my industrious servant, Ariel!

Enter ARIEL

ARIEL What would my potent master? here I am.

PROSPERO 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 power, here to this place:

Incite them to quick motion; for I must

Bestow upon the eyes of this young couple

Some vanity of mine art: it is my promise,

And they expect it from me.

ARIEL Presently?

PROSPERO Ay, with a twink.

ARIEL Before you can say ‘come’ and ‘go,’

And breathe twice and cry ‘so, so,’

Each one, tripping on his toe,

Will be here with mop and mow.

Do you love me, master? no?

PROSPERO Dearly my delicate Ariel. Do not approach

Till thou dost hear me call.

ARIEL Well, I conceive.

Exit

PROSPERO Look thou be true; do not give dalliance

Too much the rein: the strongest oaths are straw

To the fire i’ the blood: be more abstemious,

Or else, good night your vow!

FERDINAND I warrant you sir;

The white cold virgin snow upon my heart

Abates the ardour of my liver.

PROSPERO Well.

Now come, my Ariel! bring a corollary,

Rather than want a spirit: appear and pertly!

No tongue! all eyes! be silent.

Soft music

Enter IRIS

IRIS Ceres, most bounteous lady, 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;

Thy banks with pioned and twilled brims,

Which spongy April at thy hest betrims,

To make cold nymphs chaste crowns; and thy broom -groves,

Whose shadow the dismissed bachelor loves,

Being lass-lorn: thy pole-clipt vineyard;

And thy sea-marge, sterile and rocky-hard,

Where thou thyself dost air;–the queen o’ the sky,

Whose watery arch and messenger am I,

Bids thee leave these, and with her sovereign grace,

Here on this grass-plot, in this very place,

To come and sport: her peacocks fly amain:

Approach, rich Ceres, her to entertain.

Enter CERES

CERES Hail, many-colour’d messenger, that ne’er

Dost disobey the wife of Jupiter;

Who with thy saffron wings upon my flowers

Diffusest honey-drops, refreshing showers,

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?

IRIS A contract of true love to celebrate;

And some donation freely to estate

On the blest lovers.

CERES Tell me, heavenly bow,

If Venus or her son, as thou dost know,

Do now attend the queen? Since they did plot

The means that dusky Dis my daughter got,

Her and her blind boy’s scandal’d company

I have forsworn.

IRIS 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-right shall be paid

Till Hymen’s torch be lighted: but vain;

Mars’s hot minion is returned 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.

CERES High’st queen of state,

Great Juno, comes; I know her by her gait.

Enter JUNO

JUNO How does my bounteous sister? Go with me

To bless this twain, that they may prosperous be

And honour’d in their issue.

They sing:

JUNO Honour, riches, marriage-blessing,

Long continuance, and increasing,

Hourly joys be still upon you!

Juno sings her blessings upon you.

CERES Earth’s increase, foison plenty,

Barns and garners never empty,

Vines and clustering bunches growing,

Plants with goodly burthen 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.

FERDINAND This is a most majestic vision, and

Harmoniously charmingly. May I be bold

To think these spirits?

PROSPERO Spirits, which by mine art

I have from their confines call’d to enact

My present fancies.

FERDINAND Let me live here ever;

So rare a wonder’d father and a wife

Makes this place Paradise.

Juno and Ceres whisper, and send Iris on employment

PROSPERO Sweet, now, silence!

Juno and Ceres whisper seriously;

There’s something else to do: hush, and be mute,

Or else our spell is marr’d.

IRIS You nymphs, call’d Naiads, of the windring brooks,

With your sedged crowns and ever-harmless looks,

Leave your crisp channels and on this green land

Answer your summons; Juno does command:

Come, temperate nymphs, and help to celebrate

A contract of true love; be not too late.

Enter certain Nymphs

You sunburnt sicklemen, of August weary,

Come hither from the furrow and be merry:

Make holiday; your rye-straw hats put on

And these fresh nymphs encounter every one

In country footing.

Enter certain Reapers, properly habited: they join with the Nymphs in a graceful dance; towards the end whereof PROSPERO starts suddenly, and speaks; after which, to a strange, hollow, and confused noise, they heavily vanish

PROSPERO [Aside]

I had forgot that foul conspiracy

Of the beast Caliban and his confederates

Against my life: the minute of their plot

Is almost come.

To the Spirits

Well done! avoid; no more!

FERDINAND This is strange: your father’s in some passion

That works him strongly.

MIRANDA Never till this day

Saw I him touch’d with anger so distemper’d.

PROSPERO You do look, my son, in a moved 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,

Ye 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

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