THE PERSONS OF THE PLAY

PROSPERO, the rightful Duke of Milan

MIRANDA, his daughter

ANTONIO, his brother, the usurping Duke of Milan

ALONSO, King of Naples

SEBASTIAN, his brother

FERDINAND, Alonso’s son

GONZALO, an honest old counsellor of Naples

ARIEL, an airy spirit attendant upon Prospero

CALIBAN, a savage and deformed native of the island, Prospero’s slave

TRINCULO, Alonso’s jester

STEFANO, Alonso’s drunken butler

The MASTER of a ship

BOATSWAIN

MARINERS

SPIRITS

The Masque

Spirits appearing as:

IRIS

CERES

JUNO

Nymphs, reapers

The Tempest

1.1 A tempestuous noise of thunder and lightning heard. Enter ⌈severally⌉ a Shipmaster and a Boatswain

MASTER Boatswain!

BOATSWAIN Here, Master. What cheer?

MASTER Good, speak to th’ mariners. Fall to’t yarely, or we run ourselves aground. Bestir, bestir!

Exit

Enter Mariners

BOATSWAIN Heigh, my hearts! Cheerly, cheerly, my hearts! Yare, yare! Take in the topsail! Tend to th’ Master’s whistte!—Blow till thou burst thy wind, if room enough. Enter Alonso, Sebastian, Antonio, Ferdinand, Gonzalo, and others

ALONSO Good Boatswain, have care. Where’s the Master? (To the Mariners) Play the men!

BOATSWAIN I pray now, keep below.

ANTONIO Where is the Master, Boatswain?

BOATSWAIN Do you not hear him? You mar our labour. Keep your cabins; you do assist the storm.

GONZALO Nay, good, be patient.

BOATSWAIN When the sea is. Hence! What cares these roarers for the name of king? To cabin! Silence; trouble us not.

GONZALO Good, yet remember whom thou hast aboard.

BOATSWAIN None that I more love than myself. You are a councillor; if you can command these elements to silence and work peace of the present, we will not hand a rope more. Use your authority. If you cannot, give thanks you have lived so long and make yourself ready in your cabin for the mischance of the hour, if it so hap. (To the Mariners) Cheerly, good hearts! (To Gonzalo) Out of our way, I say!

Exit

GONZALO I have great comfort from this fellow. Methinks he hath no drowning mark upon him; his complexion is perfect gallows. Stand fast, good Fate, to his hanging. Make the rope of his destiny our cable, for our own doth little advantage. If he be not born to be hanged, our case is miserable.

Exeunt ⌈Courtiers⌉

Enter Boatswain

BOATSWAIN Down with the topmast! Yare! Lower, lower! Bring her to try wi’th’ main-course!

A cry within

A plague upon this howling! They are louder than the weather, or our office.

Enter Sebastian, Antonio, and Gonzalo

Yet again? What do you here? Shall we give o’er and drown? Have you a mind to sink?

SEBASTIAN A pox o’your throat, you bawling, blasphemous, incharitable dog!

BOATSWAIN Work you, then.

ANTONIO Hang, cur, hang, you whoreson insolent noisemaker. We are less afraid to be drowned than thou art.

⌈Exeunt Mariners⌉

GONZALO I’ll warrant him for drowning, though the ship were no stronger than a nutshell and as leaky as an unstanched wench.

BOATSWAIN Lay her a-hold, a-hold! Set her two courses! Off to sea again! Lay her off!

Enter Mariners, wet

MARINERS All lost! To prayers, to prayers! All lost!

⌈Exeunt Mariners⌉

BOATSWAIN What, must our mouths be cold?

GONZALO

The King and Prince at prayers! Let’s assist them,

For our case is as theirs.

SEBASTIAN

I’m out of patience.

ANTONIO

We are merely cheated of our lives by drunkards.

This wide-chopped rascal—would thou mightst lie

drowning

The washing of ten tides.

GONZALO

He’ll be hanged yet,

Though every drop of water swear against it

And gape at wid’st to glut him.

A confused noise within

MARINERS (within)

Mercy on us!

We split, we split! Farewell, my wife and children!

Farewell, brother! We split, we split, we spht!

⌈Axit Boatswain⌉

ANTONIO

Let’s all sink wi’th’ King.

SEBASTIAN

Let’s take leave of him.

Exeunt Antonio and Sebastian

GONZALO Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea for an acre of barren ground: long heath, broom, furze, anything. The wills above be done, but I would fain die a dry death. Exit

1.2 Enter Prospero ⌈in his magic cloak, with a staff⌉, and Miranda

MIRANDA

If by your art, my dearest father, you have

Put the wild waters in this roar, allay them.

The sky, it seems, would pour down stinking pitch,

But that the sea, mounting to th’ welkin’s cheek,

Dashes the fire out. O, I have suffered

With those that I saw suffer! A brave vessel,

Who had, no doubt, some noble creature in her,

Dashed all to pieces! O, the cry did knock

Against my very heart! Poor souls, they perished.

Had I been any god of power, I would

Have sunk the sea within the earth, or ere

It should the good ship so have swallowed and

The fraughting souls within her.

PROSPERO

Be collected.

No more amazement. Tell your piteous heart

There’s no harm done.

MIRANDA

O woe the day!

PROSPERO

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, naught knowing

Of whence I am, nor that I am more better

Than Prospero, master of a full poor cell

And thy no greater father.

MIRANDA

More to know

Did never meddle with my thoughts.

PROSPERO

’Tis time

I should inform thee farther. Lend thy hand,

And pluck my magic garment from me.

Miranda removes Prospero’s cloak, ⌈and he lays it

on the ground⌉

So.

Lie there, my art.—Wipe thou thine eyes; have comfort.

The direful spectacle of the wreck, which touched

The very virtue of compassion in thee,

I have with such provision in mine art

So safely ordered that there is no soul—