The Complete Works of William Shakespeare. William Shakespeare
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A contract of true love: be not too late.
[Enter certain NYMPHS]
You sunburn’d 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 mov’d 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,
Yea, 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
Is rounded with a sleep.—Sir, I am vex’d:
Bear with my weakness; my old brain is troubled.
Be not disturb’d with my infirmity.
If you be pleas’d, retire into my cell
And there repose: a turn or two I’ll walk,
To still my beating mind.
FERDINAND, MIRANDA.
We wish your peace.
[Exeunt.]
PROSPERO.
Come, with a thought.—[To them.] I thank thee:
Ariel, come!
[Enter ARIEL.]
ARIEL.
Thy thoughts I cleave to. What’s thy pleasure?
PROSPERO.
Spirit,
We must prepare to meet with Caliban.
ARIEL.
Ay, my commander; when I presented Ceres,
I thought to have told thee of it: but I fear’d
Lest I might anger thee.
PROSPERO.
Say again, where didst thou leave these varlets?
ARIEL.
I told you, sir, they were red-hot with drinking;
So full of valour that they smote the air
For breathing in their faces; beat the ground
For kissing of their feet; yet always bending
Towards their project. Then I beat my tabor;
At which, like unback’d colts, they prick’d their ears,
Advanc’d their eyelids, lifted up their noses
As they smelt music: so I charm’d their ears,
That calf-like they my lowing follow’d through
Tooth’d briers, sharp furzes, pricking goss and thorns,
Which enter’d their frail shins: at last I left them
I’ the filthy-mantled pool beyond your cell,
There dancing up to the chins, that the foul lake
O’erstunk their feet.
PROSPERO.
This was well done, my bird.
Thy shape invisible retain thou still:
The trumpery in my house, go bring it hither
For stale to catch these thieves.
ARIEL.
I go, I go.
[Exit]
PROSPERO.
A devil, a born devil, on whose nature
Nurture can never stick; on whom my pains,
Humanely taken, all, all lost, quite lost;
And as with age his body uglier grows,
So his mind cankers. I will plague them all,
Even to roaring.
[Re-enter ARIEL, loaden with glistering apparel, &c.]
Come, hang them on this line.
[PROSPERO and ARIEL remain invisible. Enter
CALIBAN, STEPHANO, and TRINCULO, all wet]
CALIBAN.
Pray you, tread softly, that the blind mole may not
Hear a foot fall: we now are near his cell.
STEPHANO.
Monster, your fairy, which you say is a harmless
fairy, has done little better than played the
Jack with us.
TRINCULO. Monster, I do smell all horse-piss; at which my nose is in great indignation.
STEPHANO. So is mine.—Do you hear, monster? If I should take a displeasure against you, look you,—
TRINCULO.
Thou wert but a lost monster.
CALIBAN.
Good my lord, give me thy favour still:
Be patient, for the prize I’ll bring thee to
Shall hoodwink this mischance: therefore speak softly;
All’s hush’d as midnight yet.
TRINCULO.
Ay, but to lose our bottles in the pool!—
STEPHANO. There is not only disgrace and dishonour in that, monster, but an infinite loss.
TRINCULO. That’s more to me than my wetting: yet this is your harmless fairy, monster.
STEPHANO. I will fetch off my bottle, though I be o’er ears for my labour.
CALIBAN.
Prithee, my king, be quiet. Seest thou here,
This is the mouth o’ the cell: no noise, and enter.
Do that good mischief which may make this island
Thine own for ever, and I, thy Caliban,
For aye thy foot-licker.
STEPHANO. Give me thy hand: I do begin to have bloody thoughts.
TRINCULO.
O King Stephano! O peer! O worthy Stephano!
Look what a wardrobe here is for thee!