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Now does my project gather to a head: My charms crack not; my spirits obey; and time Goes upright with his carriage. How’s the day?
Now my plan is coming together: My spells aren’t breaking; my spirits obey; and time Moves smoothly ahead. How’s the day going?
On the sixth hour; at which time, my lord, You said our work should cease.
It’s the sixth hour; the time you said, my lord, That our work should end.
I did say so, When first I raised the tempest. Say, my spirit, How fares the king and’s followers?
I did say that, When I first created the storm. Tell me, spirit, How are the king and his followers doing?
Confined together In the same fashion as you gave in charge, Just as you left them; all prisoners, sir, In the line-grove which weather-fends your cell; They cannot budge till your release. The king, His brother and yours, abide all three distracted And the remainder mourning over them, Brimful of sorrow and dismay; but chiefly Him that you term’d, sir, ’The good old lord Gonzalo;’ His tears run down his beard, like winter’s drops From eaves of reeds. Your charm so strongly works ’em That if you now beheld them, your affections Would become tender.
They are all together, In the same state you instructed me to put them in, Just as you left them; all prisoners, sir, In the grove that protects your cell from the weather; They can’t move until you release them. The king, His brother, and yours, are all in a state of madness And the others are mourning over them, Filled with sorrow and fear; but mostly The one you call, sir, ’The good old lord Gonzalo’; His tears are falling down his beard, like winter’s drops From the tips of reeds. Your magic works on them so strongly That if you saw them now, you’d feel sympathy.
Dost thou think so, spirit?
Do you really think so, spirit?
Mine would, sir, were I human.
I would, sir, if I were human.
And mine shall. Hast thou, which art but air, a touch, a feeling Of their afflictions, and shall not myself, One of their kind, that relish all as sharply, Passion as they, be kindlier moved than thou art? Though with their high wrongs I am struck to the quick, Yet with my nobler reason ’gaitist my fury Do I take part: the rarer action is In virtue than in vengeance: they being penitent, The sole drift of my purpose doth extend Not a frown further. Go release them, Ariel: My charms I’ll break, their senses I’ll restore, And they shall be themselves.
And I will. Do you, a being of air, feel their pain, And yet I, one of their kind, who experience all emotions Just as intensely as they do, should not be more moved than you? Even though their wrongs strike me deeply, I will control my anger with my higher reasoning And act with kindness rather than vengeance: they are repentant, So my only goal is not to punish them further. Go release them, Ariel: I’ll break my spells, restore their senses, And they will be themselves again.
I’ll fetch them, sir.
I’ll bring them to you, sir.
Ye elves of hills, brooks, standing lakes and groves, And ye that on the sands with printless foot Do chase the ebbing Neptune and do fly him When he comes back; you demi-puppets that By moonshine do the green sour ringlets make, Whereof the ewe not bites, and you whose pastime Is to make midnight mushrooms, that rejoice To hear the solemn curfew; by whose aid, Weak masters though ye be, I have bedimm’d The noontide sun, call’d forth the mutinous winds, And ’twixt the green sea and the azured vault Set roaring war: to the dread rattling thunder Have I given fire and rifted Jove’s stout oak With his own bolt; the strong-based promontory Have I made shake and by the spurs pluck’d up The pine and cedar: graves at my command Have waked their sleepers, oped, and let ’em forth By my so potent art. But this rough magic I here abjure, and, when I have required Some heavenly music, which even now I do, To work mine end upon their senses that This airy charm is for, I’ll break my staff, Bury it certain fathoms in the earth, And deeper than did ever plummet sound I’ll drown my book.
You spirits of hills, brooks, lakes, and groves, And you who, with unseen feet, Chase the retreating waves of the sea and flee from them When they return; you half-puppets that Make green circles by moonlight, Where the ewe will not graze, and you who make Midnight mushrooms, happy to hear the church bells ring; By your help, Though you are weak masters, I have dimmed The midday sun, called forth rebellious winds, And caused the sea and sky to fight in a raging war: I’ve summoned lightning and struck down Jove’s mighty oak With his own bolt; I’ve made the strong cliffs shake and, with my magic, Uprooted the pine and cedar: even graves, at my command, Have awakened their dead, opened, and let them out With my powerful art. But this rough magic I now renounce, and, when I have asked for Some heavenly music, which I am doing now, To complete my purpose on their senses, so that This airy charm works on them, I’ll break my staff, Bury it deep in the earth, And bury my book in the sea, deeper than any plumb line could measure.
A solemn air and the best comforter To an unsettled fancy cure thy brains, Now useless, boil’d within thy skull! There stand, For you are spell-stopp’d. Holy Gonzalo, honourable man, Mine eyes, even sociable to the show of thine, Fall fellowly drops. The charm dissolves apace, And as the morning steals upon the night, Melting the darkness, so their rising senses Begin to chase the ignorant fumes that mantle Their clearer reason. O good Gonzalo, My true preserver, and a loyal sir To him you follow’st! I will pay thy graces Home both in word and deed. Most cruelly Didst thou, Alonso, use me and my daughter: Thy brother was a furtherer in the act. Thou art pinch’d fort now, Sebastian. Flesh and blood, You, brother mine, that entertain’d ambition, Expell’d remorse and nature; who, with Sebastian, Whose inward pinches therefore are most strong, Would here have kill’d your king; I do forgive thee, Unnatural though thou art. Their understanding Begins to swell, and the approaching tide Will shortly fill the reasonable shore That now lies foul and muddy. Not one of them That yet looks on me, or would know me Ariel, Fetch me the hat and rapier in my cell: I will discase me, and myself present As I was sometime Milan: quickly, spirit; Thou shalt ere long be free.
A serious mood, and the best way to calm you To cure your confused mind, now useless, boiling inside your head! Stand still, Because you’re stopped by a spell. Good Gonzalo, noble man, My eyes, even friendly with your sight, Start to tear up. The spell is quickly fading, And just as the morning comes to end the night, Melting the darkness, so their senses are waking And beginning to clear away the confusion That clouded their reason. Oh good Gonzalo, My true savior, and loyal servant To the man you follow! I will repay your kindness Both in words and actions. You were most cruel, Alonso, to me and my daughter: Your brother was an accomplice in the crime. Now you’re in trouble, Sebastian. Flesh and blood, You, my brother, who entertained ambition, And cast aside remorse and human nature; who, with Sebastian, Whose inner guilt now makes him suffer most, Would have killed your king here; I forgive you, Even though you’re unnatural. Their minds Are starting to clear, and soon the tide Will fill up the shore of reason That is now dirty and confused. None of them Who still looks at me, or would recognize me as Ariel, Go fetch me my hat and sword from my cell: I will change my clothes, and present myself As I was in Milan: quickly, spirit; Soon you’ll be free.
Where the bee sucks. there suck I: In a cowslip’s bell I lie; There I couch when owls do cry. On the bat’s back I do fly After summer merrily. Merrily, merrily shall I live now Under the blossom that hangs on the bough.
Where the bee sucks, I suck: In a cowslip’s bell I lie; There I rest when owls cry. On the bat’s back I fly After summer happily. Happily, happily I will live now Under the blossom that hangs on the branch.
Why, that’s my dainty Ariel! I shall miss thee: But yet thou shalt have freedom: so, so, so. To the king’s ship, invisible as thou art: There shalt thou find the mariners asleep Under the hatches; the master and the boatswain Being awake, enforce them to this place, And presently, I prithee.
Ah, that’s my sweet Ariel! I’ll miss you: But you’ll be free: yes, yes, yes. Go to the king’s ship, invisible as you are: There you’ll find the sailors asleep Below deck; the captain and the boatswain Awake, make them come here, And quickly, please.
I drink the air before me, and return Or ere your pulse twice beat.
I’ll drink the air before me, and be back Before your heart beats twice.
All torment, trouble, wonder and amazement Inhabits here: some heavenly power guide us Out of this fearful country!
All torment, trouble, wonder, and amazement Live here: some divine power guide us Out of this terrifying place!
Behold, sir king, The wronged Duke of Milan, Prospero: For more assurance that a living prince Does now speak to thee, I embrace thy body; And to thee and thy company I bid A hearty welcome.
Look, sir king, The wronged Duke of Milan, Prospero: To prove that a living prince Is speaking to you, I hug you; And to you and your group I offer A warm welcome.
Whether thou best he or no, Or some enchanted trifle to abuse me, As late I have been, I not know: thy pulse Beats as of flesh and blood; and, since I saw thee, The affliction of my mind amends, with which, I fear, a madness held me: this must crave, An if this be at all, a most strange story. Thy dukedom I resign and do entreat Thou pardon me my wrongs. But how should Prospero Be living and be here?
Whether you’re truly he or just some magic trick to fool me, As I’ve been deceived before, I can’t say: your heartbeat Is like that of a living person; and, since I saw you, The anguish in my mind has eased, which, I think, was caused by madness: this is strange, If this is really happening, a truly bizarre story. I give up my dukedom and ask you to forgive The wrongs I’ve done. But how can Prospero Be alive and here?
First, noble friend, Let me embrace thine age, whose honour cannot Be measured or confined.
First, noble friend, Let me hug your old age, which deserves more honor Than can be measured or limited.
Whether this be Or be not, I’ll not swear.
Whether this is Real or not, I won’t swear.
You do yet taste Some subtilties o’ the isle, that will not let you Believe things certain. Welcome, my friends all!
You’re still under the influence Of some magic of the island, that makes it hard for you To believe in anything certain. Welcome, my friends!
But you, my brace of lords, were I so minded, I here could pluck his highness’ frown upon you And justify you traitors: at this time I will tell no tales.
But you, my two lords, if I wanted to, I could make you face the king’s anger And expose you as traitors: but right now I won’t tell any tales.
[Aside] The devil speaks in him.
[Aside] The devil is speaking through him.
No. For you, most wicked sir, whom to call brother Would even infect my mouth, I do forgive Thy rankest fault; all of them; and require My dukedom of thee, which perforce, I know, Thou must restore.
No. For you, most evil sir, whom calling brother Would make me sick, I forgive Your worst crimes; all of them; and demand My dukedom back, which I know you must Return.
If thou be’st Prospero, Give us particulars of thy preservation; How thou hast met us here, who three hours since Were wreck’d upon this shore; where I have lost-- How sharp the point of this remembrance is!-- My dear son Ferdinand.
If you are Prospero, Tell us exactly how you survived; How you ended up here, when just three hours ago We were shipwrecked on this shore; where I lost-- How sharp the pain of this memory is!-- My dear son Ferdinand.
I am woe for’t, sir.
I’m sorry for it, sir.
Irreparable is the loss, and patience Says it is past her cure.
The loss is irreparable, and patience Says it’s beyond her ability to heal.
I rather think You have not sought her help, of whose soft grace For the like loss I have her sovereign aid And rest myself content.
I think you haven’t asked for her help, whose gentle kindness For a loss like yours, I have her full support And I’m at peace with it.
You the like loss!
You’ve had a similar loss!
As great to me as late; and, supportable To make the dear loss, have I means much weaker Than you may call to comfort you, for I Have lost my daughter.
As great as yours recently; and, bearable With means much weaker than what you have To comfort you, for I Have lost my daughter.
A daughter? O heavens, that they were living both in Naples, The king and queen there! that they were, I wish Myself were mudded in that oozy bed Where my son lies. When did you lose your daughter?
A daughter? Oh heavens, if only they were both alive in Naples, The king and queen there! I wish I were buried in the muddy bed Where my son lies. When did you lose your daughter?
In this last tempest. I perceive these lords At this encounter do so much admire That they devour their reason and scarce think Their eyes do offices of truth, their words Are natural breath: but, howsoe’er you have Been justled from your senses, know for certain That I am Prospero and that very duke Which was thrust forth of Milan, who most strangely Upon this shore, where you were wreck’d, was landed, To be the lord on’t. No more yet of this; For ’tis a chronicle of day by day, Not a relation for a breakfast nor Befitting this first meeting. Welcome, sir; This cell’s my court: here have I few attendants And subjects none abroad: pray you, look in. My dukedom since you have given me again, I will requite you with as good a thing; At least bring forth a wonder, to content ye As much as me my dukedom.
In this last storm. I can see that these lords Are so amazed by this meeting That they lose their reason and barely believe Their eyes are telling the truth, their words Are just natural sounds: but, no matter how You’ve been shaken from your senses, know for sure That I am Prospero, and that very duke Who was banished from Milan, who most unexpectedly Landed on this shore, where you were shipwrecked, To be its ruler. No more about that; For it’s a daily story, Not a tale for breakfast nor Suitable for this first meeting. Welcome, sir; This cell is my court: here I have few servants And no subjects outside: please, come in. Since you’ve returned my dukedom to me, I’ll repay you with something just as good; At least, I’ll show you a wonder, to please you As much as I am pleased by my dukedom.
Sweet lord, you play me false.
Sweet lord, you’re playing me unfairly.
No, my dear’st love, I would not for the world.
No, my dearest love, I wouldn’t do that for the world.
Yes, for a score of kingdoms you should wrangle, And I would call it, fair play.
Yes, for a kingdom of twenty you’d argue, And I’d still call it fair play.
If this prove A vision of the Island, one dear son Shall I twice lose.
If this turns out To be a vision of the island, I will lose My dear son twice over.
A most high miracle!
A truly remarkable miracle!
Though the seas threaten, they are merciful; I have cursed them without cause.
Though the seas threatened, they were kind; I have cursed them without reason.
Now all the blessings Of a glad father compass thee about! Arise, and say how thou camest here.
Now all the blessings Of a happy father surround you! Get up, and tell me how you got here.
O, wonder! How many goodly creatures are there here! How beauteous mankind is! O brave new world, That has such people in’t!
Oh, amazing! How many beautiful people are here! How wonderful mankind is! Oh, brave new world, That has such people in it!
’Tis new to thee.
It’s new to you.
What is this maid with whom thou wast at play? Your eld’st acquaintance cannot be three hours: Is she the goddess that hath sever’d us, And brought us thus together?
Who is this young woman you were playing with? You couldn’t have known her for more than three hours: Is she the goddess who separated us, And brought us together like this?
Sir, she is mortal; But by immortal Providence she’s mine: I chose her when I could not ask my father For his advice, nor thought I had one. She Is daughter to this famous Duke of Milan, Of whom so often I have heard renown, But never saw before; of whom I have Received a second life; and second father This lady makes him to me.
Sir, she is mortal; But by divine fate, she’s mine: I chose her when I couldn’t ask my father For his advice, nor did I think I had one. She Is the daughter of the famous Duke of Milan, Of whom I’ve often heard of, but never met; From whom I’ve received a second life; and a second father This lady makes him to me.
I am hers: But, O, how oddly will it sound that I Must ask my child forgiveness!
I belong to her: But, oh, how strange it will sound that I Must ask my child for forgiveness!
There, sir, stop: Let us not burthen our remembrance with A heaviness that’s gone.
There, sir, stop: Let’s not burden our memory with A sadness that’s already gone.
I have inly wept, Or should have spoke ere this. Look down, you god, And on this couple drop a blessed crown! For it is you that have chalk’d forth the way Which brought us hither.
I have silently wept, Or I should have spoken before. Look down, you god, And bless this couple with a crown! For it is you who have mapped out the way That brought us here.
I say, Amen, Gonzalo!
I say, Amen, Gonzalo!
Was Milan thrust from Milan, that his issue Should become kings of Naples? O, rejoice Beyond a common joy, and set it down With gold on lasting pillars: In one voyage Did Claribel her husband find at Tunis, And Ferdinand, her brother, found a wife Where he himself was lost, Prospero his dukedom In a poor isle and all of us ourselves When no man was his own.
Was Milan kicked out of Milan, so that his heirs Should become kings of Naples? Oh, rejoice Beyond ordinary joy, and make it known With gold on lasting pillars: In one journey Did Claribel find her husband at Tunis, And Ferdinand, her brother, found a wife Where he himself was lost, Prospero his dukedom On a poor island and all of us ourselves When no man was his own.
[To FERDINAND and MIRANDA] Give me your hands: Let grief and sorrow still embrace his heart That doth not wish you joy!
[To FERDINAND and MIRANDA] Give me your hands: Let grief and sorrow always hold the heart Of anyone who doesn’t wish you joy!
Be it so! Amen!
So be it! Amen!
O, look, sir, look, sir! here is more of us: I prophesied, if a gallows were on land, This fellow could not drown. Now, blasphemy, That swear’st grace o’erboard, not an oath on shore? Hast thou no mouth by land? What is the news?
O, look, sir, look, sir! here are more of us: I predicted, if a gallows were on land, This guy couldn’t drown. Now, blasphemy, You who swear grace overboard, but no curse on land? Do you have no voice on land? What’s the news?
The best news is, that we have safely found Our king and company; the next, our ship-- Which, but three glasses since, we gave out split-- Is tight and yare and bravely rigg’d as when We first put out to sea.
The best news is that we’ve safely found Our king and company; the next, our ship-- Which, just three hours ago, we thought was split-- Is now sturdy and well-prepared, just like when We first set out to sea.
[Aside to PROSPERO] Sir, all this service Have I done since I went.
[Aside to PROSPERO] Sir, all this service I have done since I left.
[Aside to ARIEL] My tricksy spirit!
[Aside to ARIEL] My clever spirit!
These are not natural events; they strengthen From strange to stranger. Say, how came you hither?
These aren’t natural events; they get stranger As they go on. Tell me, how did you get here?
If I did think, sir, I were well awake, I’ld strive to tell you. We were dead of sleep, And--how we know not--all clapp’d under hatches; Where but even now with strange and several noises Of roaring, shrieking, howling, jingling chains, And more diversity of sounds, all horrible, We were awaked; straightway, at liberty; Where we, in all her trim, freshly beheld Our royal, good and gallant ship, our master Capering to eye her: on a trice, so please you, Even in a dream, were we divided from them And were brought moping hither.
If I thought, sir, that I was fully awake, I’d try to tell you. We were dead asleep, And--how, we don’t know--we were all locked below deck; But just now, with strange and different noises Of roaring, screaming, howling, clanking chains, And all kinds of terrifying sounds, We were woken up; suddenly, we were free; And there, in all her glory, we saw Our royal, fine, and noble ship, our captain Jumping to see her: in an instant, if you please, Even in a dream, we were separated from them And brought here, feeling miserable.
[Aside to PROSPERO] Was’t well done?
[Aside to PROSPERO] Was that well done?
[Aside to ARIEL] Bravely, my diligence. Thou shalt be free.
[Aside to ARIEL] Well done, my diligent spirit. You’ll be free soon.
This is as strange a maze as e’er men trod And there is in this business more than nature Was ever conduct of: some oracle Must rectify our knowledge.
This is as strange a puzzle as anyone has ever faced And there’s more to this situation than nature Could have arranged: some prophecy Must explain what’s going on.
Sir, my liege, Do not infest your mind with beating on The strangeness of this business; at pick’d leisure Which shall be shortly, single I’ll resolve you, Which to you shall seem probable, of every These happen’d accidents; till when, be cheerful And think of each thing well.
Sir, my king, Don’t trouble your mind trying to understand The strangeness of this situation; when you have time, Which will be soon, I’ll explain it all to you, In a way that will seem reasonable to you, about all These strange events; until then, be happy And think well of everything.
Come hither, spirit: Set Caliban and his companions free; Untie the spell.
Come here, spirit: Free Caliban and his friends; Untie the spell.
How fares my gracious sir? There are yet missing of your company Some few odd lads that you remember not.
How is my gracious lord? Some of your company are still missing, A few lads you don’t remember.
Every man shift for all the rest, and let no man take care for himself; for all is but fortune. Coragio, bully-monster, coragio!
Every man for himself, and Let no one worry about anyone else; because it’s all Just luck. Courage, bully-monster, courage!
If these be true spies which I wear in my head, here’s a goodly sight.
If these are real spies on my head, What a sight this is!
O Setebos, these be brave spirits indeed! How fine my master is! I am afraid He will chastise me.
Oh Setebos, these are brave spirits indeed! How great my master is! I’m afraid He’s going to punish me.
Ha, ha! What things are these, my lord Antonio? Will money buy ’em?
Ha, ha! What are these things, my lord Antonio? Can money buy them?
Very like; one of them Is a plain fish, and, no doubt, marketable.
Very likely; one of them Is just a plain fish, and, no doubt, sellable.
Mark but the badges of these men, my lords, Then say if they be true. This mis-shapen knave, His mother was a witch, and one so strong That could control the moon, make flows and ebbs, And deal in her command without her power. These three have robb’d me; and this demi-devil-- For he’s a bastard one--had plotted with them To take my life. Two of these fellows you Must know and own; this thing of darkness! Acknowledge mine.
Just look at the marks of these men, my lords, Then tell me if they’re honest. This deformed fool, His mother was a witch, and a powerful one Who could control the moon, cause the tides to rise and fall, And act on her orders without needing her magic. These three have stolen from me; and this half-demon— For he’s a bastard—had conspired with them To kill me. Two of these men you Must know and accept; this creature of darkness! Admit that he’s mine.
I shall be pinch’d to death.
I’m going to be pinched to death.
Is not this Stephano, my drunken butler?
Isn’t this Stephano, my drunken butler?
He is drunk now: where had he wine?
He’s drunk now: where did he get wine?
And Trinculo is reeling ripe: where should they Find this grand liquor that hath gilded ’em? How camest thou in this pickle?
And Trinculo is staggering drunk: where did they Find this fancy liquor that’s made them like this? How did you end up in this mess?
I have been in such a pickle since I saw you last that, I fear me, will never out of my bones: I shall not fear fly-blowing.
I’ve been in such a mess since I saw you last that, I fear, it will never leave my body: I won’t even be afraid of being bug-bitten.
Why, how now, Stephano!
What’s going on, Stephano?
O, touch me not; I am not Stephano, but a cramp.
Oh, don’t touch me; I’m not Stephano, I’m just a cramp.
You’ld be king o’ the isle, sirrah?
You want to be king of the island, huh?
I should have been a sore one then.
I would’ve been a real pain then.
This is a strange thing as e’er I look’d on.
This is the strangest thing I’ve ever seen.
He is as disproportion’d in his manners As in his shape. Go, sirrah, to my cell; Take with you your companions; as you look To have my pardon, trim it handsomely.
He’s as mismatched in his behavior As he is in his looks. Go, fool, to my cell; Take your companions with you; and if you expect My forgiveness, make sure you do it properly.
Ay, that I will; and I’ll be wise hereafter And seek for grace. What a thrice-double ass Was I, to take this drunkard for a god And worship this dull fool!
Yes, I will; and I’ll be smarter from now on And look for mercy. What a complete idiot I was, to take this drunk for a god And worship this stupid fool!
Go to; away!
Go on; get out!
Hence, and bestow your luggage where you found it.
Leave, and put your things back where you found them.
Or stole it, rather.
Or maybe you took them, actually.
Sir, I invite your highness and your train To my poor cell, where you shall take your rest For this one night; which, part of it, I’ll waste With such discourse as, I not doubt, shall make it Go quick away; the story of my life And the particular accidents gone by Since I came to this isle: and in the morn I’ll bring you to your ship and so to Naples, Where I have hope to see the nuptial Of these our dear-beloved solemnized; And thence retire me to my Milan, where Every third thought shall be my grave.
Sir, I invite your highness and your group To my humble cell, where you can rest For tonight; part of which I’ll spend Telling you a story, which I’m sure will make the time Pass quickly; the story of my life And the specific events that have happened Since I came to this island: and in the morning I’ll take you to your ship and then to Naples, Where I hope to witness the wedding Of these dear friends of ours being celebrated; And then I’ll return to Milan, where Every third thought will be of my grave.
I long To hear the story of your life, which must Take the ear strangely.
I can’t wait To hear the story of your life, which must Sound very strange.
I’ll deliver all; And promise you calm seas, auspicious gales And sail so expeditious that shall catch Your royal fleet far off.
I’ll tell you everything; And I promise you calm seas, favorable winds And a quick sail that will catch Your royal fleet from far away.
My Ariel, chick, That is thy charge: then to the elements Be free, and fare thou well! Please you, draw near.
My Ariel, dear, That is your task: now go, be free in the elements And farewell! Please, come closer.