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SEBASTIAN. Claribel.
ANTONIO. She that is Queen of Tunis; she that dwells

Ten leagues beyond man's life; she that from Naples
Can have no note, unless the sun were post,

The Man i' th' Moon's too slow, till newborn chins
Be rough and razorable; she that from whom

We all were sea-swallow'd, though some cast again,
And by that destiny, to perform an act

Whereof what's past is prologue, what to come
In yours and my discharge.

SEBASTIAN. What stuff is this! How say you?
'Tis true, my brother's daughter's Queen of Tunis;

So is she heir of Naples; 'twixt which regions
There is some space.

ANTONIO. A space whose ev'ry cubit
Seems to cry out 'How shall that Claribel

Measure us back to Naples? Keep in Tunis,
And let Sebastian wake.' Say this were death

That now hath seiz'd them; why, they were no worse
Than now they are. There be that can rule Naples

As well as he that sleeps; lords that can prate
As amply and unnecessarily

As this Gonzalo; I myself could make
A chough of as deep chat. O, that you bore

The mind that I do! What a sleep were this
For your advancement! Do you understand me?

SEBASTIAN. Methinks I do.
ANTONIO. And how does your content

Tender your own good fortune?
SEBASTIAN. I remember

You did supplant your brother Prospero.
ANTONIO. True.

And look how well my garments sit upon me,
Much feater than before. My brother's servants

Were then my fellows; now they are my men.
SEBASTIAN. But, for your conscience-

ANTONIO. Ay, sir; where lies that? If 'twere a kibe,
'Twould put me to my slipper; but I feel not

This deity in my bosom; twenty consciences
That stand 'twixt me and Milan, candied be they

And melt, ere they molest! Here lies your brother,
No better than the earth he lies upon,

If he were that which now he's like-that's dead;
Whom I with this obedient steel, three inches of it,

Can lay to bed for ever; whiles you, doing thus,
To the perpetual wink for aye might put

This ancient morsel, this Sir Prudence, who
Should not upbraid our course. For all the rest,

They'll take suggestion as a cat laps milk;
They'll tell the clock to any business that

We say befits the hour.
SEBASTIAN. Thy case, dear friend,

Shall be my precedent; as thou got'st Milan,
I'll come by Naples. Draw thy sword. One stroke

Shall free thee from the tribute which thou payest;
And I the King shall love thee.

ANTONIO. Draw together;
And when I rear my hand, do you the like,

To fall it on Gonzalo.
SEBASTIAN. O, but one word. [They talk apart]

Re-enter ARIEL, invisible, with music and song
ARIEL. My master through his art foresees the danger

That you, his friend, are in; and sends me forth-
For else his project dies-to keep them living.

[Sings in GONZALO'S ear]
While you here do snoring lie,

Open-ey'd conspiracy
His time doth take.

If of life you keep a care,
Shake off slumber, and beware.

Awake, awake!
ANTONIO. Then let us both be sudden.

GONZALO. Now, good angels
Preserve the King! [They wake]

ALONSO. Why, how now?-Ho, awake!-Why are you drawn?
Wherefore this ghastly looking?

GONZALO. What's the matter?
SEBASTIAN. Whiles we stood here securing your repose,

Even now, we heard a hollow burst of bellowing
Like bulls, or rather lions; did't not wake you?

It struck mine ear most terribly.
ALONSO. I heard nothing.

ANTONIO. O, 'twas a din to fright a monster's ear,
To make an earthquake! Sure it was the roar

Of a whole herd of lions.
ALONSO. Heard you this, Gonzalo?

GONZALO. Upon mine honour, sir, I heard a humming,
And that a strange one too, which did awake me;

I shak'd you, sir, and cried; as mine eyes open'd,
I saw their weapons drawn-there was a noise,

That's verily. 'Tis best we stand upon our guard,
Or that we quit this place. Let's draw our weapons.

ALONSO. Lead off this ground; and let's make further
search

For my poor son.
GONZALO. Heavens keep him from these beasts!

For he is, sure, i' th' island.
ALONSO. Lead away.

ARIEL. Prospero my lord shall know what I have done;
So, King, go safely on to seek thy son. Exeunt

SCENE 2
Another part of the island

Enter CALIBAN, with a burden of wood. A noise of
thunder heard

CALIBAN. All the infections that the sun sucks up
From bogs, fens, flats, on Prosper fall, and make him

By inch-meal a disease! His spirits hear me,
And yet I needs must curse. But they'll nor pinch,

Fright me with urchin-shows, pitch me i' th' mire,
Nor lead me, like a firebrand, in the dark

Out of my way, unless he bid 'em; but
For every trifle are they set upon me;

Sometime like apes that mow and chatter at me,
And after bite me; then like hedgehogs which

Lie tumbling in my barefoot way, and mount
Their pricks at my footfall; sometime am I

All wound with adders, who with cloven tongues
Do hiss me into madness.

Enter TRINCULO
Lo, now, lo!

Here comes a spirit of his, and to torment me
For bringing wood in slowly. I'll fall flat;

Perchance he will not mind me.
TRINCULO. Here's neither bush nor shrub to bear off any

weather at all, and another storm brewing; I hear it
sing i' th' wind. Yond same black cloud, yond huge one,

looks like a foul bombard that would shed his liquor. If
it should thunder as it did before, I know not where to

hide my head. Yond same cloud cannot choose but fall by
pailfuls. What have we here? a man or a fish? dead or

alive? A fish: he smells like a fish; a very ancient and
fish-like smell; kind of not-of-the-newest Poor-John. A

strange fish! Were I in England now, as once I was, and
had but this fish painted, not a holiday fool there but

would give a piece of silver. There would this monster
make a man; any strange beast there makes a man; when

they will not give a doit to relieve a lame beggar, they
will lay out ten to see a dead Indian. Legg'd like a

man, and his fins like arms! Warm, o' my troth! I do now
let loose my opinion; hold it no longer: this is no

fish, but an islander, that hath lately suffered by
thunderbolt. [Thunder] Alas, the storm is come again! My

best way is to creep under his gaberdine; there is no
other shelter hereabout. Misery acquaints a man with

strange bed-fellows. I will here shroud till the dregs
of the storm be past.

Enter STEPHANO singing; a bottle in his hand
STEPHANO. I shall no more to sea, to sea,

Here shall I die ashore-
This is a very scurvy tune to sing at a man's funeral;

well, here's my comfort. [Drinks]
The master, the swabber, the boatswain, and I,

The gunner, and his mate,
Lov'd Mall, Meg, and Marian, and Margery,

But none of us car'd for Kate;
For she had a tongue with a tang,

Would cry to a sailor 'Go hang!'
She lov'd not the savour of tar nor of pitch,

Yet a tailor might scratch her where'er she did itch.
Then to sea, boys, and let her go hang!

This is a scurvy tune too; but here's my comfort.
[Drinks]

CALIBAN. Do not torment me. O!
STEPHANO. What's the matter? Have we devils here? Do you

put tricks upon 's with savages and men of Ind? Ha! I
have not scap'd drowning to be afeard now of your four

legs; for it hath been said: As proper a man as ever
went on four legs cannot make him give ground; and it

shall be said so again, while Stephano breathes at
nostrils.

CALIBAN. The spirit torments me. O!
STEPHANO. This is some monster of the isle with four legs,

who hath got, as I take it, an ague. Where the devil
should he learn our language? I will give him some

relief, if it be but for that. If I can recover him, and
keep him tame, and get to Naples with him, he's a

present for any emperor that ever trod on neat's
leather.

CALIBAN. Do not torment me, prithee; I'll bring my wood
home faster.

STEPHANO. He's in his fit now, and does not talk after the
wisest. He shall taste of my bottle; if he have never

drunk wine afore, it will go near to remove his fit. If
I can recover him, and keep him tame, I will not take

too much for him; he shall pay for him that hath him,
and that soundly.

CALIBAN. Thou dost me yet but little hurt; thou wilt anon,
I know it by thy trembling; now Prosper works upon thee.

STEPHANO. Come on your ways; open your mouth; here is
that which will give language to you, cat. Open your

mouth; this will shake your shaking, I can tell you, and
that soundly; you cannot tell who's your friend. Open

your chaps again.
TRINCULO. I should know that voice; it should be-but he is

drown'd; and these are devils. O, defend me!
STEPHANO. Four legs and two voices; a most delicatemonster!

His forward voice, now, is to speak well of his
friend; his backward voice is to utter foul speeches and

to detract. If all the wine in my bottle will recover
him, I will help his ague. Come-Amen! I will pour some

in thy other mouth.


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