Reading Help THE TEMPEST
Have just our theme of woe; but for the miracle, `
` I mean our preservation, few in millions `
` Can speak like us. Then wisely, good sir, weigh `
` Our sorrow with our comfort. `
` ALONSO. Prithee, peace. `
` SEBASTIAN. He receives comfort like cold porridge. `
` ANTONIO. The visitor will not give him o'er so. `
` SEBASTIAN. Look, he's winding up the watch of his wit; by `
` and by it will strike. `
` GONZALO. Sir- `
` SEBASTIAN. One-Tell. `
` GONZALO. When every grief is entertain'd that's offer'd, `
` Comes to th' entertainer- `
` SEBASTIAN. A dollar. `
` GONZALO. Dolour comes to him, indeed; you have spoken `
` truer than you purpos'd. `
` SEBASTIAN. You have taken it wiselier than I meant you `
` should. `
` GONZALO. Therefore, my lord- `
` ANTONIO. Fie, what a spendthrift is he of his tongue! `
` ALONSO. I prithee, spare. `
` GONZALO. Well, I have done; but yet- `
` SEBASTIAN. He will be talking. `
` ANTONIO. Which, of he or Adrian, for a good wager, first `
` begins to crow? `
` SEBASTIAN. The old cock. `
` ANTONIO. The cock'rel. `
` SEBASTIAN. Done. The wager? `
` ANTONIO. A laughter. `
` SEBASTIAN. A match! `
` ADRIAN. Though this island seem to be desert- `
` ANTONIO. Ha, ha, ha! `
` SEBASTIAN. So, you're paid. `
` ADRIAN. Uninhabitable, and almost inaccessible- `
` SEBASTIAN. Yet- `
` ADRIAN. Yet- `
` ANTONIO. He could not miss't. `
` ADRIAN. It must needs be of subtle, tender, and delicate `
` temperance. `
` ANTONIO. Temperance was a delicate wench. `
` SEBASTIAN. Ay, and a subtle; as he most learnedly `
` deliver'd. `
` ADRIAN. The air breathes upon us here most sweetly. `
` SEBASTIAN. As if it had lungs, and rotten ones. `
` ANTONIO. Or, as 'twere perfum'd by a fen. `
` GONZALO. Here is everything advantageous to life. `
` ANTONIO. True; save means to live. `
` SEBASTIAN. Of that there's none, or little. `
` GONZALO. How lush and lusty the grass looks! how green! `
` ANTONIO. The ground indeed is tawny. `
` SEBASTIAN. With an eye of green in't. `
` ANTONIO. He misses not much. `
` SEBASTIAN. No; he doth but mistake the truth totally. `
` GONZALO. But the rarity of it is, which is indeed almost `
` beyond credit- `
` SEBASTIAN. As many vouch'd rarities are. `
` GONZALO. That our garments, being, as they were, drench'd `
` in the sea, hold, notwithstanding, their freshness and `
` glosses, being rather new-dy'd, than stain'd with salt `
` water. `
` ANTONIO. If but one of his pockets could speak, would it `
` not say he lies? `
` SEBASTIAN. Ay, or very falsely pocket up his report. `
` GONZALO. Methinks our garments are now as fresh as when `
` we put them on first in Afric, at the marriage of the `
` King's fair daughter Claribel to the King of Tunis. `
` SEBASTIAN. 'Twas a sweet marriage, and we prosper well in `
` our return. `
` ADRIAN. Tunis was never grac'd before with such a paragon `
` to their queen. `
` GONZALO. Not since widow Dido's time. `
` ANTONIO. Widow! a pox o' that! How came that 'widow' `
` in? Widow Dido! `
` SEBASTIAN. What if he had said 'widower Aeneas' too? `
` Good Lord, how you take it! `
` ADRIAN. 'Widow Dido' said you? You make me study of `
` that. She was of Carthage, not of Tunis. `
` GONZALO. This Tunis, sir, was Carthage. `
` ADRIAN. Carthage? `
` GONZALO. I assure you, Carthage. `
` ANTONIO. His word is more than the miraculous harp. `
` SEBASTIAN. He hath rais'd the wall, and houses too. `
` ANTONIO. What impossible matter will he make easy next? `
` SEBASTIAN. I think he will carry this island home in his `
` pocket, and give it his son for an apple. `
` ANTONIO. And, sowing the kernels of it in the sea, bring `
` forth more islands. `
` GONZALO. Ay. `
` ANTONIO. Why, in good time. `
` GONZALO. 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. `
` ANTONIO. And the rarest that e'er came there. `
` SEBASTIAN. Bate, I beseech you, widow Dido. `
` ANTONIO. O, widow Dido! Ay, widow Dido. `
` GONZALO. Is not, sir, my doublet as fresh as the first day I `
` wore it? I mean, in a sort. `
` ANTONIO. That 'sort' was well fish'd for. `
` GONZALO. When I wore it at your daughter's marriage? `
` ALONSO. You cram these words into mine ears against `
` The stomach of my sense. Would I had never `
` Married my daughter there; for, coming thence, `
` My son is lost; and, in my rate, she too, `
` Who is so far from Italy removed `
` I ne'er again shall see her. O thou mine heir `
` Of Naples and of Milan, what strange fish `
` Hath made his meal on thee? `
` FRANCISCO. Sir, he may live; `
` I saw him beat the surges under him, `
` And ride upon their backs; he trod the water, `
` Whose enmity he flung aside, and breasted `
` The surge most swoln that met him; his bold head `
` 'Bove the contentious waves he kept, and oared `
` Himself with his good arms in lusty stroke `
` To th' shore, that o'er his wave-worn basis bowed, `
` As stooping to relieve him. I not doubt `
` He came alive to land. `
` ALONSO. No, no, he's gone. `
` SEBASTIAN. Sir, you may thank yourself for this great loss, `
` That would not bless our Europe with your daughter, `
` But rather lose her to an African; `
` Where she, at least, is banish'd from your eye, `
` Who hath cause to wet the grief on't. `
` ALONSO. Prithee, peace. `
` SEBASTIAN. You were kneel'd to, and importun'd otherwise `
` By all of us; and the fair soul herself `
` Weigh'd between loathness and obedience at `
` Which end o' th' beam should bow. We have lost your son, `
` I fear, for ever. Milan and Naples have `
` Moe widows in them of this business' making, `
` Than we bring men to comfort them; `
` The fault's your own. `
` ALONSO. So is the dear'st o' th' loss. `
` GONZALO. My lord Sebastian, `
` The truth you speak doth lack some gentleness, `
` And time to speak it in; you rub the sore, `
` When you should bring the plaster. `
` SEBASTIAN. Very well. `
` ANTONIO. And most chirurgeonly. `
` GONZALO. It is foul weather in us all, good sir, `
` When you are cloudy. `
` SEBASTIAN. Foul weather? `
` ANTONIO. Very foul. `
` GONZALO. Had I plantation of this isle, my lord- `
` ANTONIO. He'd sow 't with nettle-seed. `
` SEBASTIAN. Or docks, or mallows. `
` GONZALO. And were the king on't, what would I do? `
` SEBASTIAN. Scape being drunk for want of wine. `
` GONZALO. I' th' commonwealth I would by contraries `
` Execute all things; for no kind of traffic `
` Would I admit; no name of magistrate; `
` Letters should not be known; riches, poverty, `
` And use of service, none; contract, succession, `
` Bourn, bound of land, tilth, vineyard, none; `
` No use of metal, corn, or wine, or oil; `
` No occupation; all men idle, all; `
` And women too, but innocent and pure; `
` No sovereignty- `
` SEBASTIAN. Yet he would be king on't. `
` ANTONIO. The latter end of his commonwealth forgets the `
` beginning. `
` GONZALO. All things in common nature should produce `
` Without sweat or endeavour. Treason, felony, `
` Sword, pike, knife, gun, or need of any engine, `
` Would I not have; but nature should bring forth, `
` Of it own kind, all foison, all abundance, `
` To feed my innocent people. `
` SEBASTIAN. No marrying 'mong his subjects? `
` ANTONIO. None, man; all idle; whores and knaves. `
` GONZALO. I would with such perfection govern, sir, `
` T' excel the golden age. `
` SEBASTIAN. Save his Majesty! `
` ANTONIO. Long live Gonzalo! `
` GONZALO. And-do you mark me, sir? `
` ALONSO. Prithee, no more; thou dost talk nothing to me. `
` GONZALO. 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. `
` ANTONIO. 'Twas you we laugh'd at. `
` GONZALO. Who in this kind of merry fooling am nothing to `
` you; so you may continue, and laugh at nothing still. `
` ANTONIO. What a blow was there given! `
` SEBASTIAN. An it had not fall'n flat-long. `
` GONZALO. You are gentlemen of brave mettle; you would `
` lift the moon out of her sphere, if she would continue `
` in it five weeks without changing. `
` `
` Enter ARIEL, invisible, playing solemn music `
` `
` SEBASTIAN. We would so, and then go a-bat-fowling. `
` ANTONIO. Nay, good my lord, be not angry. `
` GONZALO. No, I warrant you; I will not adventure my `
` discretion so weakly. Will you laugh me asleep, for I am `
` very heavy? `
` ANTONIO. Go sleep, and hear us. `
` [All sleep but ALONSO, SEBASTIAN and ANTONIO] `
` ALONSO. What, all so soon asleep! I wish mine eyes `
` Would, with themselves, shut up my thoughts; I find `
` They are inclin'd to do so. `
` SEBASTIAN. Please you, sir, `
`
` I mean our preservation, few in millions `
` Can speak like us. Then wisely, good sir, weigh `
` Our sorrow with our comfort. `
` ALONSO. Prithee, peace. `
` SEBASTIAN. He receives comfort like cold porridge. `
` ANTONIO. The visitor will not give him o'er so. `
` SEBASTIAN. Look, he's winding up the watch of his wit; by `
` and by it will strike. `
` GONZALO. Sir- `
` SEBASTIAN. One-Tell. `
` GONZALO. When every grief is entertain'd that's offer'd, `
` Comes to th' entertainer- `
` SEBASTIAN. A dollar. `
` GONZALO. Dolour comes to him, indeed; you have spoken `
` truer than you purpos'd. `
` SEBASTIAN. You have taken it wiselier than I meant you `
` should. `
` GONZALO. Therefore, my lord- `
` ANTONIO. Fie, what a spendthrift is he of his tongue! `
` ALONSO. I prithee, spare. `
` GONZALO. Well, I have done; but yet- `
` SEBASTIAN. He will be talking. `
` ANTONIO. Which, of he or Adrian, for a good wager, first `
` begins to crow? `
` SEBASTIAN. The old cock. `
` ANTONIO. The cock'rel. `
` SEBASTIAN. Done. The wager? `
` ANTONIO. A laughter. `
` SEBASTIAN. A match! `
` ADRIAN. Though this island seem to be desert- `
` ANTONIO. Ha, ha, ha! `
` SEBASTIAN. So, you're paid. `
` ADRIAN. Uninhabitable, and almost inaccessible- `
` SEBASTIAN. Yet- `
` ADRIAN. Yet- `
` ANTONIO. He could not miss't. `
` ADRIAN. It must needs be of subtle, tender, and delicate `
` temperance. `
` ANTONIO. Temperance was a delicate wench. `
` SEBASTIAN. Ay, and a subtle; as he most learnedly `
` deliver'd. `
` ADRIAN. The air breathes upon us here most sweetly. `
` SEBASTIAN. As if it had lungs, and rotten ones. `
` ANTONIO. Or, as 'twere perfum'd by a fen. `
` GONZALO. Here is everything advantageous to life. `
` ANTONIO. True; save means to live. `
` SEBASTIAN. Of that there's none, or little. `
` GONZALO. How lush and lusty the grass looks! how green! `
` ANTONIO. The ground indeed is tawny. `
` SEBASTIAN. With an eye of green in't. `
` ANTONIO. He misses not much. `
` SEBASTIAN. No; he doth but mistake the truth totally. `
` GONZALO. But the rarity of it is, which is indeed almost `
` beyond credit- `
` SEBASTIAN. As many vouch'd rarities are. `
` GONZALO. That our garments, being, as they were, drench'd `
` in the sea, hold, notwithstanding, their freshness and `
` glosses, being rather new-dy'd, than stain'd with salt `
` water. `
` ANTONIO. If but one of his pockets could speak, would it `
` not say he lies? `
` SEBASTIAN. Ay, or very falsely pocket up his report. `
` GONZALO. Methinks our garments are now as fresh as when `
` we put them on first in Afric, at the marriage of the `
` King's fair daughter Claribel to the King of Tunis. `
` SEBASTIAN. 'Twas a sweet marriage, and we prosper well in `
` our return. `
` ADRIAN. Tunis was never grac'd before with such a paragon `
` to their queen. `
` GONZALO. Not since widow Dido's time. `
` ANTONIO. Widow! a pox o' that! How came that 'widow' `
` in? Widow Dido! `
` SEBASTIAN. What if he had said 'widower Aeneas' too? `
` Good Lord, how you take it! `
` ADRIAN. 'Widow Dido' said you? You make me study of `
` that. She was of Carthage, not of Tunis. `
` GONZALO. This Tunis, sir, was Carthage. `
` ADRIAN. Carthage? `
` GONZALO. I assure you, Carthage. `
` ANTONIO. His word is more than the miraculous harp. `
` SEBASTIAN. He hath rais'd the wall, and houses too. `
` ANTONIO. What impossible matter will he make easy next? `
` SEBASTIAN. I think he will carry this island home in his `
` pocket, and give it his son for an apple. `
` ANTONIO. And, sowing the kernels of it in the sea, bring `
` forth more islands. `
` GONZALO. Ay. `
` ANTONIO. Why, in good time. `
` GONZALO. 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. `
` ANTONIO. And the rarest that e'er came there. `
` SEBASTIAN. Bate, I beseech you, widow Dido. `
` ANTONIO. O, widow Dido! Ay, widow Dido. `
` GONZALO. Is not, sir, my doublet as fresh as the first day I `
` wore it? I mean, in a sort. `
` ANTONIO. That 'sort' was well fish'd for. `
` GONZALO. When I wore it at your daughter's marriage? `
` ALONSO. You cram these words into mine ears against `
` The stomach of my sense. Would I had never `
` Married my daughter there; for, coming thence, `
` My son is lost; and, in my rate, she too, `
` Who is so far from Italy removed `
` I ne'er again shall see her. O thou mine heir `
` Of Naples and of Milan, what strange fish `
` Hath made his meal on thee? `
` FRANCISCO. Sir, he may live; `
` I saw him beat the surges under him, `
` And ride upon their backs; he trod the water, `
` Whose enmity he flung aside, and breasted `
` The surge most swoln that met him; his bold head `
` 'Bove the contentious waves he kept, and oared `
` Himself with his good arms in lusty stroke `
` To th' shore, that o'er his wave-worn basis bowed, `
` As stooping to relieve him. I not doubt `
` He came alive to land. `
` ALONSO. No, no, he's gone. `
` SEBASTIAN. Sir, you may thank yourself for this great loss, `
` That would not bless our Europe with your daughter, `
` But rather lose her to an African; `
` Where she, at least, is banish'd from your eye, `
` Who hath cause to wet the grief on't. `
` ALONSO. Prithee, peace. `
` SEBASTIAN. You were kneel'd to, and importun'd otherwise `
` By all of us; and the fair soul herself `
` Weigh'd between loathness and obedience at `
` Which end o' th' beam should bow. We have lost your son, `
` I fear, for ever. Milan and Naples have `
` Moe widows in them of this business' making, `
` Than we bring men to comfort them; `
` The fault's your own. `
` ALONSO. So is the dear'st o' th' loss. `
` GONZALO. My lord Sebastian, `
` The truth you speak doth lack some gentleness, `
` And time to speak it in; you rub the sore, `
` When you should bring the plaster. `
` SEBASTIAN. Very well. `
` ANTONIO. And most chirurgeonly. `
` GONZALO. It is foul weather in us all, good sir, `
` When you are cloudy. `
` SEBASTIAN. Foul weather? `
` ANTONIO. Very foul. `
` GONZALO. Had I plantation of this isle, my lord- `
` ANTONIO. He'd sow 't with nettle-seed. `
` SEBASTIAN. Or docks, or mallows. `
` GONZALO. And were the king on't, what would I do? `
` SEBASTIAN. Scape being drunk for want of wine. `
` GONZALO. I' th' commonwealth I would by contraries `
` Execute all things; for no kind of traffic `
` Would I admit; no name of magistrate; `
` Letters should not be known; riches, poverty, `
` And use of service, none; contract, succession, `
` Bourn, bound of land, tilth, vineyard, none; `
` No use of metal, corn, or wine, or oil; `
` No occupation; all men idle, all; `
` And women too, but innocent and pure; `
` No sovereignty- `
` SEBASTIAN. Yet he would be king on't. `
` ANTONIO. The latter end of his commonwealth forgets the `
` beginning. `
` GONZALO. All things in common nature should produce `
` Without sweat or endeavour. Treason, felony, `
` Sword, pike, knife, gun, or need of any engine, `
` Would I not have; but nature should bring forth, `
` Of it own kind, all foison, all abundance, `
` To feed my innocent people. `
` SEBASTIAN. No marrying 'mong his subjects? `
` ANTONIO. None, man; all idle; whores and knaves. `
` GONZALO. I would with such perfection govern, sir, `
` T' excel the golden age. `
` SEBASTIAN. Save his Majesty! `
` ANTONIO. Long live Gonzalo! `
` GONZALO. And-do you mark me, sir? `
` ALONSO. Prithee, no more; thou dost talk nothing to me. `
` GONZALO. 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. `
` ANTONIO. 'Twas you we laugh'd at. `
` GONZALO. Who in this kind of merry fooling am nothing to `
` you; so you may continue, and laugh at nothing still. `
` ANTONIO. What a blow was there given! `
` SEBASTIAN. An it had not fall'n flat-long. `
` GONZALO. You are gentlemen of brave mettle; you would `
` lift the moon out of her sphere, if she would continue `
` in it five weeks without changing. `
` `
` Enter ARIEL, invisible, playing solemn music `
` `
` SEBASTIAN. We would so, and then go a-bat-fowling. `
` ANTONIO. Nay, good my lord, be not angry. `
` GONZALO. No, I warrant you; I will not adventure my `
` discretion so weakly. Will you laugh me asleep, for I am `
` very heavy? `
` ANTONIO. Go sleep, and hear us. `
` [All sleep but ALONSO, SEBASTIAN and ANTONIO] `
` ALONSO. What, all so soon asleep! I wish mine eyes `
` Would, with themselves, shut up my thoughts; I find `
` They are inclin'd to do so. `
` SEBASTIAN. Please you, sir, `
`