William Shakespeare - Ultimate Collection: Complete Plays & Poetry in One Volume. William Shakespeare
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is going away: let’s follow it, and after do our work.
STEPHANO. Lead, monster: we’ll follow.—I would I could see this taborer! he lays it on. Wilt come?
TRINCULO.
I’ll follow, Stephano.
[Exeunt]
SCENE III. Another part of the island
[Enter ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, GONZALO, ADRIAN, FRANCISCO, and OTHERS.]
GONZALO.
By’r lakin, I can go no further, sir;
My old bones ache: here’s a maze trod, indeed,
Through forthrights and meanders! By your patience,
I needs must rest me.
ALONSO.
Old lord, I cannot blame thee,
Who am myself attach’d with weariness
To th’ dulling of my spirits: sit down, and rest.
Even here I will put off my hope, and keep it
No longer for my flatterer: he is drown’d
Whom thus we stray to find; and the sea mocks
Our frustrate search on land. Well, let him go.
ANTONIO.
[Aside to SEBASTIAN] I am right glad that he’s
so out of hope.
Do not, for one repulse, forgo the purpose
That you resolv’d to effect.
SEBASTIAN.
[Aside to ANTONIO] The next advantage
Will we take throughly.
ANTONIO.
[Aside to SEBASTIAN] Let it be tonight;
For, now they are oppress’d with travel, they
Will not, nor cannot, use such vigilance
As when they are fresh.
SEBASTIAN.
[Aside to ANTONIO] I say, tonight: no more.
[Solemn and strange music: and PROSPERO above, invisible. Enter several strange Shapes, bringing in a banquet: they dance about it with gentle actions of salutation; and inviting the KING, &c., to eat, they depart.]
ALONSO.
What harmony is this? my good friends, hark!
GONZALO.
Marvellous sweet music!
ALONSO.
Give us kind keepers, heavens! What were these?
SEBASTIAN.
A living drollery. Now I will believe
That there are unicorns; that in Arabia
There is one tree, the phoenix’ throne; one phoenix
At this hour reigning there.
ANTONIO.
I’ll believe both;
And what does else want credit, come to me,
And I’ll be sworn ‘tis true: travellers ne’er did lie,
Though fools at home condemn them.
GONZALO.
If in Naples
I should report this now, would they believe me?
If I should say, I saw such islanders,—
For, certes, these are people of the island,—
Who, though, they are of monstrous shape, yet, note,
Their manners are more gentle-kind than of
Our human generation you shall find
Many, nay, almost any.
PROSPERO.
[Aside] Honest lord,
Thou hast said well; for some of you there present
Are worse than devils.
ALONSO.
I cannot too much muse
Such shapes, such gesture, and such sound, expressing,—
Although they want the use of tongue,—a kind
Of excellent dumb discourse.
PROSPERO.
[Aside] Praise in departing.
FRANCISCO.
They vanish’d strangely.
SEBASTIAN.
No matter, since
They have left their viands behind; for we have stomachs.—
Will’t please you taste of what is here?
ALONSO.
Not I.
GONZALO.
Faith, sir, you need not fear. When we were boys,
Who would believe that there were mountaineers
Dewlapp’d like bulls, whose throats had hanging at them
Wallets of flesh? or that there were such men
Whose heads stood in their breasts? which now we find
Each putter-out of five for one will bring us
Good warrant of.
ALONSO.
I will stand to, and feed,
Although my last; no matter, since I feel
The best is past.—Brother, my lord the duke,
Stand to and do as we.
[Thunder and lightning. Enter ARIEL, like a harpy; claps his wings upon the table; and, with a quaint device, the banquet vanishes]
ARIEL.
You are three men of sin, whom Destiny,
That hath to instrument this lower world
And what is in’t,—the never-surfeited sea
Hath caused to belch up you; and on this island
Where man doth not inhabit; you ‘mongst men
Being most unfit to live. I have made you mad:
[Seeing ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, &c., draw their swords]
And even with such-like valour men hang and drown
Their proper selves. You fools! I and my fellows
Are ministers of fate: the elements
Of whom your swords are temper’d may as well
Wound the loud winds, or with bemock’d-at stabs
Kill the still-closing waters, as diminish
One dowle that’s in my plume; my fellow-ministers
Are like invulnerable. If you could hurt,
Your swords are now too massy for your strengths,
And will not be uplifted. But, remember—
For that’s my business to you,—that you three
From Milan did supplant good Prospero;
Expos’d unto the sea, which hath requit it,
Him, and his innocent child: for which foul deed
The powers, delaying, not forgetting, have
Incens’d the seas and shores, yea, all the creatures,
Against your peace. Thee of thy son, Alonso,
They have bereft; and do pronounce, by me
Lingering perdition,—worse than any death
Can be at once,—shall step by step attend
You and your ways; whose