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Alonso, king of Naples.
Sebastian, his brother.
Prospero, the rightful duke of Milan.
Antonio, his brother, the usurping duke of Milan.
Ferdinand, son to the king of Naples.
Gonzalo, an honest old counsellor of Naples.

} lords.
Caliban, a savage and deformed slave.
Trincalo, a jester.
Stephano, a drunken butler.
Master of a ship, Boatswain, and Mariners.
Miranda, daughter to Prospero.
Ariel, an airy spirit.
Juno, spirits.

Other Spirits attending on Prospero.
SCENE, the Sea, with a Ship; afterwards, an unin-

habited Island.

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SCENE I. On a Ship at Sea.

A Storm, with Thunder and Lightning.
Mast. Boatswain
Boats. Here, master: what cheer

Mast. Good : speak to the mariners :-fall to't yarely, or we run ourselves agroand: bestir, bestir. [Exit.

Enter MARINERS. Boats. Heigh, my hearts; cheerly, cheerly, my hearts; yare, yare: Take in the top-sail ; "Tend to the master's whistle;--Blow, tillthou burst thy wind, if roon enough! Enter ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, FER

DINAND, GONZALO, and others. Alon. Goodl boatswain, have care. Where's the master? Play the men.

Boats. I pray now, keep below.
Ant. Where the mas

boatswain Boats. Do you not hear him? You mar our labour: keep your cabins : you do assist the storm.

Gon. Nay, good, be patient.

Boats. When the sea is. Hence! What care these roarers for the name of king? To cabin: silence : trouble us not.

Gon. Good; yet remember whom thou hast aboard.

Boats. None that I more love than myself. You are a connsellor; if you can command these elements to silence, and work the peace of the present, we will not band a rope more; use your authority. If you caunot, give thanks you have liv'd so long, and make


yourself ready in your cabin for the mischance of the hour, if it so hap.-Cheerly, good hearts-Out of our [Exit. way, I say.

Gon. 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 [Exeunt. to be hang'd, our case is miserable.


Boats. Down with the top-mast; yare; lower, lower; bring her to try with main-course. [A cry within] A plague upon this howling! they are louder than the weather, or our office,

Re-enter SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, and GONZALO. Yet again? what do you here? Shall we give o'er, and drown? Have you a mind to sink?

Seb. A pox o'your throat! you bawling, blasphemous, uncharitable dog!

Boats. Work you then.

Ant. Hang, cur, hang! you whoreson, insolent noisemaker, we are less afraid to be drown'd than thou art. Gon. I'll warrant him from drowning; though the ship were no stronger than a nut-shell, and as leaky as an unstanch'd wench.

Boats. Lay her a-hold, a-hold; set her two courses; off to sea again, lay her off.

Enter MARINERS wet.

Mar. All lost! to prayers, to prayers! all lost!

Boats. What, must our months be cold?


Gon. The king and prince at prayers! let us assist

them, for our case is as theirs.

Seb, I am out of patience.

Ant. We're merely cheated of our lives by drunkards. This wide-chopp'd rascal-Would, thou might'st he The washing of ten tides!

Gon. He'll be hang'd yet;


Though every drop of water swear against it,

And gape at wid'st to glut him. [A confused noise within.] Mercy on us! We split, we split! Farewell, my wife and children!-Farewell, brother! We split, we split, we split

Ant. Let's all sink with the king.
Seb. Let's take leave of him.

Exit. [Exit.



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

[Exit. SCENE II. The Island: before the Cell of PROSPERO.


Mira. 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 the welkin's cheek,
Dashes the fire out. O, I have suffer'd

With those that I saw suffer: a brave vessel,
Who had no doubt some noble creatures in her,
Dash'd all to pieces. O, the cry did knock
Against my very heart! Poor souls! they perish'd.
Had I been any god of power, I would

Have sunk the sea within the earth, or e'er
It should the good ship so have swallow'd, and
The freighting souls within her.

Pro. Be collected;

tell your piteous heart,

No more amazement:
There's no harm done.
Mira. O woe the day!
Pro. 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 Prospero, master of a full poor cell,
And thy no greater father.

Mira. More to know

Did never meddle with my thoughts.

Pro. "Tis time

I should inform thee further. Lend thy hand,
And pluck my magic garment from me.-So;

Lie there my art-Wipe thou thine eyes; have comfort.
[Lays down his mantle.
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 order'd, 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
For thou must now know further.


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