The Tempest

Boatswain!

Here, master. What cheer?

Good. Speak to the mariners. Fall to it yarely or we run ourselves aground. Bestir! Bestir!

Heigh, my hearts! Cheerly, cheerly, my hearts! Yare, yare. Take in the topsail! Tend to the master's whistle.  [To the storm] Blow till thou burst thy wind if room enough!

Good boatswain, have care. Where's the master? Play the men.

I pray now, keep below.

Where is the master, boatswain?

Do you not hear him? You mar our labor. Keep your cabins! You do assist the storm.

Nay, good, be patient.

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

Good, yet remember whom thou hast aboard.

None that I more love than myself. You are a counselor — if you can command these elements to silence and work the 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 Mariners] Cheerly, good hearts! [To Courtiers] Out of our way, I say!

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.

Down with the topmast! Yare: lower, lower. Bring her to try with main-course!

A plague upon this howling; they are louder than the weather or our office. Yet again? What do you here? Shall we give over and drown? Have you a mind to sink?

A pox on your throat, you bawling, blasphemous, uncharitable dog!

Work you, then!

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

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

Lay her ahold, ahold: set her two courses off to sea again. Lay her off!

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

What, must our mouths be cold?

The King and prince at prayers. Let's assist them, for our case is as theirs.

I am out of patience.

We are merely cheated of our lives by drunkards. This wide-chopped rascal! 
[To Boatswain] Would thou mightst lie drowning the washing of ten tides.

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

Let's all sink wi'th' King.

Let's take leave of him.

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

Dolor comes to him indeed — you have spoken truer than you purposed.

You have taken it wiselier than I meant you should.

Therefore, my Lord —

Fie, what a spendthrift is he of his tongue.

[To Gonzalo] I prithee, spare.

Well, I have done. But yet —

He will be talking.

Which of he or Adrian, for a good wager, first begins to crow?

The old cock.

The cockerel.

Done. The wager?

A laughter.

A match!

Though this island seem to be desert —

Ha, ha, ha!

[To Antonio] So, you're paid.

Uninhabitable and almost inaccessible —

Yet —

Yet —

He could not miss it.

It must needs be of subtle, tender, and delicate temperance.

Temperance was a delicate wench.

Ay, and a subtle, as he most learnedly delivered.

The air breathes upon us here most sweetly.

As if it had lungs — and rotten ones.

Or as 'twere perfumed by a fen.

Here is everything advantageous to life.

True, save means to live.

Of that there's none or little.

How lush and lusty the grass looks. How green!

The ground indeed is tawny.

With an eye of green in it.

He misses not much.

No, he doth but mistake the truth totally.

But the rarity of it is, which is indeed almost beyond credit.

As many vouched rarities are.

That our garments, being as they were drenched in the sea, hold notwithstanding their freshness and glosses, being rather new-dyed than stained with salt water.

If but one of his pockets could speak, would it not say he lies?

Ay, or very falsely pocket up his report.

Methinks our garments are now as fresh as when we put them on first in Africa 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 graced before with such a paragon to their queen.

Not since widow Dido's time.

Widow? A pox on that! How came that widow in? Widow Dido!

What if he had said "widower Aeneas", too? Good Lord, how you take it!

"Widow Dido", said you? You make me study of that: she was of Carthage, not of Tunis.

This Tunis, sir, was Carthage.

Carthage?

I assure you — Carthage.

His word is more than the miraculous harp.

He hath raised the wall and houses too.

What impossible matter will he make easy next?

I think he will carry this island home in his pocket and give it his son for an apple.

And sowing the kernels of it in the sea, bring forth more islands.

Ay —

Why, in good time.

[To Alonso] Sir, we were talking that our garments seem now as fresh as when we were at Tunis at the marriage of your daughter, who is now queen.

And the rarest that e'er came there.

Bate, I beseech you, widow Dido.

Oh, widow Dido? Ay, widow Dido!

[To Alonso] Is not, sir, my doublet as fresh as the first day I wore it — I mean, in a sort?

That sort was well fished for.

When I wore it at your daughter's marriage?

The latter end of his commonwealth forgets the beginning.

I do well believe your highness, and did it to minister occasion to these gentlemen, who are of such sensible and nimble lungs that they always use to laugh at nothing.

'Twas you we laughed at.

Who, in this kind of merry fooling, am nothing to you; so you may continue and laugh at nothing still!

What a blow was there given!

And it had not fallen flat-long.

You are gentlemen of brave metal; you would lift the moon out of her sphere if she would continue in it five weeks without changing.

We would so, and then go a-bat-fowling.

Nay, good my lord, be not angry.

No, I warrant you; I will not adventure my discretion so weakly. Will you laugh me asleep, for I am very heavy?

Go sleep, and hear us.

Here's neither bush nor shrub to bear off any weather at all — and another storm brewing! I hear it sing in the wind. Yon same black cloud, yon huge one, looks like a foul bombard that would shed his liquor. If it should thunder as it did before, I know not where to hide my head; yon same cloud cannot choose but fall by pailfuls. What have we here — a man or a fish? Dead or alive? A fish. He smells like a fish — a very ancient and fish-like smell, a kind of not-of-the-newest poor-John. A strange fish. Were I in England now, as once I was, and had but this fish painted, not a holiday-fool there but would give a piece of silver. There would this monster make a man. Any strange beast there makes a man. When they will not give a doit to relieve a lame beggar, they will lay out ten to see a dead Indian. Legged like a man, and his fins like arms. Warm o'my troth — I do now let loose my opinion, hold it no longer: this is no fish but an islander that hath lately suffered by a thunderbolt. Alas, the storm is come again — my best way is to creep under his gaberdine; there is no other shelter hereabout. Misery acquaints a man with strange bedfellows. I will here shroud till the dregs of the storm be past.

I shall no more to sea, to sea; here shall I die ashore. This is a very scurvy tune to sing at a man's funeral. Well, here's my comfort. Drinks Sings
The master, the swabber, the boatswain, and I,

This is a scurvy tune too, but here's my comfort.

[To Stephano] Do not torment me, oh!

What's the matter? Have we devils here? Do you put tricks upon us with savages and men of Ind? Ha! I have not escaped drowning to be afeard now of your four legs, for it hath been said, "As proper a man as ever went on four legs cannot make him give ground", and it shall be said so again while Stephano breathes at' nostrils.

The spirit torments me, oh!

This is some monster of the isle with four legs, who hath got, as I take it, an ague. Where the devil should he learn our language? I will give him some relief if it be but for that. If I can recover him, and keep him tame, and get to Naples with him, he's a present for any emperor that ever trod on neat's-leather.

Do not torment me, prithee. I'll bring my wood home faster!

He's in his fit now and does not talk after the wisest. He shall taste of my bottle; if he have never drunk wine afore, it will go near to remove his fit. If I can recover him and keep him tame, I will not take too much for him — he shall pay for him that hath him, and that soundly.

Thou dost me yet but little hurt; thou wilt anon — I know it by thy trembling. Now Prosper works upon thee.

Come on your ways. Open your mouth — here is that which will give language to you, cat. Open your mouth — this will shake your shaking, I can tell you, and that soundly. You cannot tell who's your friend. Open your chops again.

I should know that voice. It should be — but he is drowned, and these are devils. O defend me!

Four legs and two voices? — a most delicate monster! His forward voice now is to speak well of his friend; his backward voice is to utter foul speeches and to detract. If all the wine in my bottle will recover him, I will help his ague. Come: amen, I will pour some in thy other mouth.

Stephano?

Doth thy other mouth call me? Mercy, mercy! This is a devil and no monster! I will leave him — I have no long spoon.

Stephano, if thou be'st Stephano, touch me and speak to me, for I am Trinculo. Be not afeard, thy good friend Trinculo.

If thou be'st Trinculo, come forth. I'll pull thee by the lesser legs. If any be Trinculo's legs, these are they. Thou art very Trinculo indeed! How cam'st thou to be the siege of this mooncalf? Can he vent Trinculos?

I took him to be killed with a thunderstroke — but art thou not drowned, Stephano? I hope now thou art not drowned. Is the storm overblown? I hid me under the dead mooncalf's gaberdine for fear of the storm. And art thou living, Stephano? O Stephano, two Neapolitans 'scaped!

Prithee, do not turn me about; my stomach is not constant.

[Aside] These be fine things, an if they be not sprites. That's a brave god, and bears celestial liquor. I will kneel to him.

How didst thou 'scape? How cam'st thou hither? Swear by this bottle how thou cam'st hither — I escaped upon a butt of sack which the sailors heaved o'erboard — by this bottle, which I made of the bark of a tree with mine own hands since I was cast ashore.

I'll swear upon that bottle to be thy true subject, for the liquor is not earthly.

Here: swear then how thou escaped.

Swam ashore, man, like a duck; I can swim like a duck, I'll be sworn.

Here, kiss the book. Though thou canst swim like a duck, thou art made like a goose.

O Stephano, hast any more of this?

The whole butt, man! My cellar is in a rock by the seaside, where my wine is hid. [To Caliban] How now mooncalf? How does thine ague?

Hast thou not dropped from heaven?

Out of the moon, I do assure thee. I was the man in the moon when time was.

I have seen thee in her, and I do adore thee! My mistress showed me thee, and thy dog and thy bush.

Come, swear to that: kiss the book. I will furnish it anon with new contents. Swear!

[To Stephano] By this good light, this is a very shallow monster. I afeared of him? A very weak monster. The man in the moon? A most poor, credulous monster. [To Caliban, who is drinking] Well drawn, monster, in good sooth.

[To Stephano] I'll show thee every fertile inch of the island, and I will kiss thy foot. I prithee be my god.

By this light, a most perfidious and drunken monster — when his god's asleep, he'll rob his bottle.

I'll kiss thy foot; I'll swear myself thy subject.

Come on then: down and swear.

I shall laugh myself to death at this puppy-headed monster, a most scurvy monster. I could find in my heart to beat him.

Come, kiss.

But that the poor monster's in drink. An abominable monster.

I'll show thee the best springs, I'll pluck thee berries, I'll fish for thee and get thee wood enough! A plague upon the tyrant that I serve! I'll bear him no more sticks, but follow thee, thou wondrous man.

A most ridiculous monster, to make a wonder of a poor drunkard.

I prithee let me bring thee where crabs grow, and I with my long nails will dig thee pignuts, show thee a jay's nest, and instruct thee how to snare the nimble marmoset. I'll bring thee to clustering filberts, and sometimes I'll get thee young scamels from the rock. Wilt thou go with me?

Ay prithee now lead the way without any more talking. Trinculo, the King and all our company else being drowned, we will inherit here. Here, bear my bottle, fellow Trinculo; we'll fill him by and by again.

Farewell, master, farewell, farewell!

A howling monster, a drunken monster!

No more dams I'll make for fish,

Freedom, high-day, high-day, freedom, freedom, high-day, freedom!

O brave monster, lead the way!

[To Trinculo] Tell not me! When the butt is out, we will drink water, not a drop before: therefore bear up and board 'em. [To Caliban] Servant monster, drink to me!

Servant monster? The folly of this island! They say there's but five upon this isle; we are three of them. If the other two be brained like us, the state totters.

Drink, servant monster, when I bid thee; thy eyes are almost set in thy head.

Where should they be set else? He were a brave monster indeed if they were set in his tail.

My man-monster hath drowned his tongue in sack. For my part, the sea cannot drown me. I swam, ere I could recover the shore, five and thirty leagues off and on. By this light, thou shalt be my lieutenant monster — or my standard.

Your lieutenant, if you list; he's no standard.

We'll not run, Monsieur Monster.

Nor go, neither — but you'll lie like dogs and yet say nothing, neither.

Mooncalf: speak once in thy life, if thou be'st a good mooncalf.

How does thy honor? Let me lick thy shoe. I'll not serve him; he is not valiant.

Thou liest, most ignorant monster. I am in case to jostle a constable. Why, thou deboshed fish thou, was there ever man a coward that hath drunk so much sack as I today? Wilt thou tell a monstrous lie, being but half a fish and half a monster?

Lo, how he mocks me! Wilt thou let him, my Lord?

"Lord," quoth he! — that a monster should be such a natural.

Lo, lo, again! Bite him to death, I prithee.

Trinculo: keep a good tongue in your head. If you prove a mutineer, the next tree! The poor monster's my subject, and he shall not suffer indignity.

I thank my noble Lord. Wilt thou be pleased to hearken once again to the suit I made to thee?

Marry will I: kneel and repeat it. I will stand and so shall Trinculo.

As I told thee before, I am subject to a tyrant —a sorcerer — that by his cunning hath cheated me of the island.

Thou liest.

[To Trinculo] Thou liest, thou jesting monkey thou! I would my valiant master would destroy thee. I do not lie.

Trinculo, if you trouble him any more in's tale, by this hand I will supplant some of your teeth.

Why, I said nothing.

Mum, then, and no more. Proceed.

That's most certain.

How now shall this be compassed? Canst thou bring me to the party?

Yea, yea, my Lord; I'll yield him thee asleep, where thou mayst knock a nail into his head.

Thou liest: thou canst not.

Trinculo, run into no further danger. Interrupt the monster one word further, and by this hand I'll turn my mercy out of doors and make a stockfish of thee.

Why, what did I? I did nothing. I'll go farther off.

Didst thou not say he lied?

Thou liest.

Do I so? Take thou that! As you like this, give me the lie another time!

I did not give the lie! Out of your wits and hearing too? A pox on your bottle — this can sack and drinking do. A murrain on your monster, and the devil take your fingers!

Ha ha ha!

Now, forward with your tale. [To Trinculo] Prithee, stand further off!

Beat him enough! After a little time, I'll beat him too.

Stand farther. Come, proceed.

Monster, I will kill this man. His daughter and I will be King and Queen, save our graces, and Trinculo and thyself shall be viceroys.
Dost thou like the plot, Trinculo?

Excellent.

Give me thy hand. I am sorry I beat thee; but while thou liv'st, keep a good tongue in thy head.

[Aside] This will I tell my master.

That's not the tune!

What is this same?

This is the tune of our catch, played by the picture of Nobody.

O forgive me my sins!

He that dies pays all debts. I defy thee! Mercy upon us!

Art thou afeard?

No, monster, not I.

This will prove a brave kingdom to me, where I shall have my music for nothing!

When Prospero is destroyed.

That shall be by and by; I remember the story.

The sound is going away. Let's follow it, and after do our work.

Lead, monster: we'll follow. I would I could see this taborer; he lays it on.

[To Caliban] Wilt come? [To Stephano] I'll follow, Stephano.

Pray you, tread softly, that the blind mole may not hear a footfall; we now are near his cell.

Monster, your fairy, which you say is a harmless fairy, has done little better than played the jack with us.

Monster, I do smell all horse-piss, at which my nose is in great indignation.

So is mine. Do you hear, monster? If I should take a displeasure against you, look you —

Thou wert but a lost monster.

Ay, but to lose our bottles in the pool!

There is not only disgrace and dishonor in that, monster, but an infinite loss.

That's more to me than my wetting, yet this is your harmless fairy, monster.

I will fetch off my bottle, though I be o'er ears for my labor.

I do begin to have bloody thoughts.

O King Stephano! O peer! O worthy Stephano, look what a wardrobe here is for thee!

Oh ho, monster! We know what belongs to a frippery. O King Stephano!

Put off that gown, Trinculo! By this hand, I'll have that gown.

Thy grace shall have it.

Be you quiet, monster. Mistress Line, is not this my jerkin? Now is the jerkin under the line. Now, jerkin, you are like to lose your hair and prove a bald jerkin.

Do, do! We steal by line and level, an't like your grace.

I thank thee for that jest; here's a garment for't. Wit shall not go unrewarded while I am king of this country. "Steal by line and level" is an excellent pass of pate — there's another garment for't.

Monster, come put some lime upon your fingers, and away with the rest.

Monster, lay to your fingers: help to bear this away where my hogshead of wine is, or I'll turn you out of my kingdom. Go to; carry this.

And this.

Ay, and this.

[Sees Prospero and the others.] If these be true spies which I wear in my head, here's a goodly sight!