The Tempest
Yare, yare!
Take in the topsail.
Tend to the master's whistle!
Bestir, bestir!
Good Boatswain, have care.
Where's the master?
Play the men.
I pray now, keep below.
Where is the master, bos'n?
Do you not hear him!?
You mar our labour,
keep your cabins,
you do assist the storm.
Nay, good, be patient.
When the sea is.
Good, yet remember
whom thou hast aboard.
None that I more love than myself.
Silence, trouble us not!
Out of our way, I say!
Yet again? What do you here?
Shall we give o'er, and drown?
Have you a mind to sink?
A pox o' your throat, you bawling,
blasphemous, incharitable dog!
Work you, then
Hang, cur, hang! You whoreson,
insolent noisemaker,
we are less afraid
to be drowned than thou art,
Off to sea again!
Lay her off!
Hell is empty and all the devils here!
If by your art, my dearest mother, you
have put the wild waters in this roar,
allay them...
O, I have suffered with those that
I saw suffer.
A brave vessel, who had, no doubt,
dash'd all to pieces.
Poor souls, they perish'd!
Be collected
No more amazement,
tell thy piteous heart there's no
harm done.
- O, woe the day!
- No harm
I have done nothing but in care of thee,
of thee, my dear one, thee,
my daughter, who art ignorant
of what thou art,
nought knowing of whence I am,
nor that I am more better than Prospera,
master of a full poor cell
and thy no greater mother.
More to know did never meddle
with my thoughts
'Tis time I should inform thee farther.
So. Lie there, my art.
Wipe thou thine eyes, have comfort.
The direful spectacle of the wreck,
which touch'd the very virtue
of compassion in thee.
I have with such provision in mine art so
safely ordered that there is no soul.
No, not so much perdition as an hair,
betid to any creature in the vessel,
which thou heard'st cry,
which thou saw'st sink.
Sit down, and be attentive
Canst thou remember a time
before we came unto this cell?
I do not think thou canst, for then thou
Certainly, ma'am, I can
By what? By any other
house or person?
Of any thing the image tell me that hath
kept with thy remembrance
'Tis far off, and rather like a dream
Had I not Four or five women
once that tended me?
Thou hadst, and more, Miranda
Twelve year since, Miranda,
twelve year since
thy mother held the Dukedom
of Milan and its princely power
But are not you my mother?
The very same, who long ago was wife
to him who ruled Milan most liberally
who, with as tolerant a hand toward me
gave license to my long hours
of coiled powers contained within
some elements to harm, or heal
I brooked no interruption
but your squalling
for thou, child, art a princess born
O, Heavens!
What foul play had we, that we
came from thence?
Upon thy father's death, authority was
conferred as was his will to me alone
thereby awaking the ambitions of my
brother and thy uncle, call'd Antonio
- Thou attendst not...
- Good Madam, I do!
I pray thee, mark me
that a brother should be so perfidious!
He whom I did charge to execute
express commands
as to the prudent
governing of fair Milan
instead undid, subverted
Dost thou attend me?
Ma'am, most heedfully!
Perverting my upstanding studies
now his slandering and bile-dipped
brush did paint a faithless portrait
His sister, a practicer of the black arts!
A demon, not a woman, nay a witch!
And he full-knowing others of
my sex have burned for no less!
The flames now fanned, my counselors
turned against me. Dost thou hear?
Your tale, ma'am, would cure deafness
To credit his own lie he did
believe he was indeed the Duke
confederates wi' the King of
Naples to give him annual tribute
and bend my Dukedom yet unbow'd
to most ignoble stooping
O the heavens!
Now the condition
The King of Naples, being an enemy
to me inveterate
hearkens my brother's suit
which was, that he, should presently
eradicate me and mine
out of the dukedom
all its honours upon my brother
whereon, one midnight
did Antonio open the gates of Milan
and, i' the dead of darkness his
ministers for the purpose hurried thence
me and thy crying self
Wherefore did they not
that hour destroy us?
Dear, they durst not
so dear the love my people bore me
In few, they hurried us aboard a bark
bore us some leagues to sea
where they prepared a rotten
carcass of a boat
not rigg'd, nor tackle, sail, nor mast
the very rats instinctively had quit it
there they hoist us to cry
to the sea that roar'd to us
to sigh to the winds whose pity sighing
back again, did us but loving wrong
Alack, what trouble was I then to you!
O, a cherubim thou wast
that did preserve me!
Thou didst smile
Infused with a fortitude from heaven
that raised in me
an undergoing stomach
to bear up against what should ensue
- How came we ashore?
- By providence divine
Some food we had
and some fresh water
that a noble Neapolitan, Gonzalo
out of his charity, did give us, with rich
garments, stuffs and necessaries
Of his gentleness,
knowing I loved my books
he furnish'd me from mine own
library with volumes
Would I might but ever see that man!
I pray you, ma'am
for still 'tis beating in my mind, your
reason for raising this sea-storm?
By accident most strange
bountiful fortune now my dear lady, hath
mine enemies brought to this shore
Here cease more questions
Thou art inclined to sleep
'Tis a good dulness, and give it way
I know thou canst not choose
Come away, servant, come
I am ready now
Approach, my Ariel, come
All hail, great master!
Grave dame, hail!
I come to answer thy best pleasure
be't to fly, to swim, to dive into the fire
to ride on the curl'd clouds
to thy strong bidding task Ariel
and all his quality
Hast thou, spirit, perform'd, to point,
the tempest that I bade thee?
To every article
I boarded the King's ship
Now on the beak, now in the
waist, the deck, in every cabin
I flamed amazement; sometime I'd
divide and burn in many places
the fire and cracks of sulphurous roaring
the most mighty Neptune
seem to besiege
and make his bold waves tremble
Hi ho!
My brave spirit!
Who was so firm, so constant, that
this coil would not infect his reason?
Not a soul but felt a fever of the mad
and play'd some tricks of desperation
The king's son Ferdinand, with hair
up-staring was the first man that leap'd
cried; Hell is empty
and all the devils here!
Why that's my spirit!
But was not this nigh shore?
- Close by, my master
- But are they, Ariel, safe?
Not a hair perish'd
On their sustaining garments
not a blemish
but fresher than before
and, as thou badest me, in troops I have
dispersed them 'bout the isle
The King's son have I landed by himself
whom I left cooling of the air
with sighs
in an odd angle of the isle and sitting,
his arms in this sad knot
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"The Tempest" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 4 Nov. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/the_tempest_19487>.
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