Another way so high a hope that even Ambition cannot pierce a wink beyond, But doubt discovery there. Will you grant with me Ant. She that is queen of Tunis; she that dwells Ten leagues beyond man's life; she that from Naples The man i' the moon's too slow,-till new-born chins Whereof what's past is prologue; what to come, Seb. What stuff is this! how say you: 'Tis true, my brother's daughter 's queen of Tunis; So is she heir of Naples ; 'twixt which regions There is some space. Ant. A space whose every cubit That now hath seized them; why, they were no worse As amply and unnecessarily As this Gonzalo; I myself could make A chough of as deep chat. O, that you bore Ant. Tender And how does your content your own good fortune? I remember Seb. True: And look how well my garments sit upon me; Ant. Ay, sir; where lies that? if 'twere a kibe, This deity in my bosom: twenty consciences, If he were that which now he's like, that's dead; They'll take suggestion as a cat laps milk; Seb. Thy case, dear friend, I'll come by Naples. Draw thy sword: one stroke Ant. Seb. O, but one word. [They talk apart. Ari. My master through his art foresees the danger [Sings in Gonzalo's ear. While you here do snoring lie, His time doth take. If of life you keep a care, Ant. Then let us both be sudden. Now, good angels Preserve the king! [They wake. Gon. Alon. Why, how now? ho, awake!-Why are you drawn? Gon. Alon. To make an earthquake! sure, it was the roar Alon. Gon. Heavens keep him from these beasts! For he is, sure, 'i th' island. Alon. Lead away. Ari. Prospero my lord shall know what I have done : SCENE II Another part of the island. Enter Caliban with a burden of wood. thunder heard. Cal. All the infections that the sun sucks up [Exeunt. A noise of From bogs, fens, flats, on Prosper fall, and make him And yet I needs must curse. But they'll nor pinch, Sometime like apes, that mow and chatter at me, Enter Trinculo. Lo, now, lo! Here comes a spirit of his, and to torment me Trin. Here's neither bush nor shrub, to bear off any weather at all, and another storm brewing; I hear it sing i' the wind: yond same black cloud, yond 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: yond What have same cloud cannot choose but fall by pailfuls. 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. [Thunder.] 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. Enter Stephano, singing: a bottle in his hand. I shall no more to sea, to sea, Here shall I die a-shore, This is a very scurvy tune to sing at a man's funeral well, here's my comfort. [Sings. The master, the swabber, the boatswain, and I, Loved Moll, Meg, and Marian, and Margery, For she had a tongue with a tang, Would cry to a sailor, Go hang! [Drinks. [Drinks. She loved not the savour of tar nor of pitch; Yet a tailor might scratch her where'er she did itch. Then, to sea, boys, and let her go hang! This is a scurvy tune too: but here's my comfort. Cal. Do not torment me:-O! Ste. What's the matter? Have we devils here? tricks upon 's with salvages and men of Ind, ha? I have not scaped 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. Cal. The spirit torments me :- -O! Do you put Ste. 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. Cal. Do not torment me, prithee; I'll bring my wood home faster. Ste. 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. Cal. Thou dost me yet but little hurt; thou wilt anon, I know it by thy trembling now Prosper works upon thee. : Ste. 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 chaps again. Trin. I should know that voice: it should be-but he is drowned; and these are devils:-O defend me! Ste. 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 Trin. Stephano! [mouth. Ste. Doth thy other mouth call me? Mercy, mercy! This is a devil, and no monster: I will leave him; I have no long spoon. Trin. Stephano! If thou beest Stephano, touch me, and speak to me; for I am Trinculo,-be not afeard,-thy good friend Trinculo. Ste. If thou beest 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 camest thou to be the siege of this moon-calf? can he vent Trinculos? Trin. I took him to be killed with a thunder-stroke. But art thou not drowned, Stephano? I hope, now, thou art not drowned. Is the storm overblown? I hid me under the dead moon-calf's gaberdine for fear of the storm. And art thou living, Stephano? O Stephano, two Neapolitans scaped! Ste. Prithee, do not turn me about; my stomach is not constant. Cal. [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. Ste. How didst thou scape? How camest thou hither? swear, by this bottle, how thou camest hither. I escaped upon a butt of sack, which the sailors heaved o'erboard, by this |