Prospero's Books Page #4

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wither'd roots,

and husks wherein the acorn cradled.

Follow.

No; I will resist such entertainment

till mine enemy has more power.

O dear father, make not too rash a trial

of him, for He's gentle, and not fearful.

What, I say, my foot my tutor?

Put thy sword up, traitor;

Who mak'st a show but dar'st not strike,

thy conscience Is so possess'd with guilt.

Come from thy ward; For I can

here disarm thee with this stick

And make thy weapon drop.

Beseech you, father!

Sir, have pity; I'll be his surety.

Silence! One word more shall make me

chide thee, if not hate thee.

What! An advocate

for an impostor! hush!

Thou think'st there is

no more such shapes as he,

having seen but him and Caliban.

Foolish wench! To th' most

of men this is a Caliban,

and they to him are angels.

Come on; obey.

Thy nerves are in their infancy again,

And have no vigour in them.

My spirits, as in a dream,

are all bound up.

My father's loss,

the weakness which I feel,

the wreck of all my friends, nor this

man's threats To whom I am subdu'd,

are but light to me,

might I but through my prison

once a day behold this maid.

All corners else o' th' earth

let liberty make use of;

space enough have I in such a prison.

- It works.

Thou hast done well, fine Ariel!

Thou shalt be as free as mountain air;

but then exactly do

all points of my command.

Follow me.

A Bestiary of Past, Present

and Future Animals

Thou shalt be as free as mountain winds;

but then exactly do

all points of my command.

To th' syllable.

Beseech you, sir,

be merry;

you have cause, so have we all, of joy;

for our escape is much beyond our loss.

Our hint of woe is common;

every day, some sailor's wife, the masters

of some merchant, and the merchant,

have just our theme of woe;

but for the miracle,

I mean our preservation,

few in millions can speak like us.

Then wisely, good sir, weigh our

sorrow with our comfort.

But the rarity of it is, which is

indeed almost beyond credit-

That our garments, being,

as they were, drench'd in the sea,

hold, notwithstanding,

their freshness and glosses,

being rather new-dy'd,

than stain'd with salt water.

Methinks our garments are now as fresh

as when we put them on first

in Afric, at the marriage of the King's

fair daughter Claribel

to the King of Tunis.

Twas a sweet marriage,

and we prosper well in our return.

Tunis was never grac'd before

with such a paragon to their queen.

Would I had never married

my daughter there;

for, coming thence, my son is lost;

Sir, he may live;

I saw him beat the surges under him,

and ride upon their backs;

he trod the water,

whose enmity he flung aside,

and breasted the surge

most swoln that met him;

his bold head 'Bove the contentious

waves he kept,

and oared himself with his good arms

in lusty stroke to th' shore,

that o'er his wave-worn basis bowed,

s stooping to relieve him.

I not doubt he came alive to land.

No, no, he's gone.

Sir, you may thank yourself for this great loss,

that would not bless our

Europe with your daughter,

but rather lose her to an African;

You were kneel'd to,

and importun'd otherwise By all of us;

and the fair soul herself Weigh'd

between loathness and obedience

at Which end o' th' beam should bow.

We have lost your son,

I fear, for ever.

15. A Book of Utopias

This is a book of ideal societies.

every known and every

imagined political and

social community is

described and evaluated,

permitting a reader to sort and match

his own utopian ideal.

Had I plantation of

this isle, my lord -

And were the king on't,

what would I do?

I' th' commonwealth I would by

contraries Execute all things;

for no kind of traffic Would I admit;

no name of magistrate;

Letters should not be known;

riches, poverty, And use of service, none;

contract, succession,

Bourn, bound of land,

tilth, vineyard, none;

No use of metal, corn,

or wine, or oil;

No occupation; all men idle, all;

And women too, but innocent and pure;

No marrying 'mong his subjects?

None, man; all idle;

whores and knaves.

I would with such perfection govern,

sir, t' excel the golden age.

Will you laugh me asleep,

for I am very heavy?

What, all so soon asleep!

I wish mine eyes would, with themselves,

shut up my thoughts;

I find they are inclin'd to do so.

Please you, sir, do not omit the heavy

offer of it:
It seldom visits sorrow;

when it doth, It is a comforter.

We two, my lord, will guard your

person while you take your rest,

and watch your safety.

Worthy Sebastian? Will you grant with me

That Ferdinand is drown'd?

He's gone.

Then tell me,

who's the next heir of Naples?

Claribel.

She that is Queen of Tunis;

she that dwells ten leagues

beyond man's life;

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.

'Tis true, my brother's

daughter's Queen of Tunis;

So is she heir of Naples; 'twixt which

regions there is some space.

Say this were death that

now hath seiz'd them;

why, they were no

worse than now they are.

What a sleep were this

for your advancement!

Do you understand me?

While you here do snoring lie,

I remember you did supplant

your brother Prospero.

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.

But, for your conscience -

Ay, sir; where lies that?

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,

While you here do snoring lie,

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.

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.

Draw together;

Awake, awake!

preserve the King!

What's the matter?

Whiles we stood here

securing your repose,

even now, we heard a hollow burst

of bellowing like bulls, or rather lions;

16. A Book of Traveller's Tales

- Heard you this, Gonzalo?

Upon mine honour, sir,

I heard a humming,

I shak'd you, sir, and cried;

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.

Lead off this ground; and let's make

further search for my poor son.

Heavens keep him from these beasts!

His spirits hear me,

and yet I needs must curse.

All the infections

that the sun sucks up

From bogs, fens, flats,

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