 | The Virgin Queen |  |
ACT II.
SCENE I.
A CABIN IN THE KING OF NAPLES' SHIP AT SEAEnter Anthonio, and Sebastian.
ANTHONIO.
Tush! tell not me; i'th' night we might have done't:
Instead of this, 'would I had stay'd behind,
In yon' lone isle to reign, a rock my throne,
And been both lord and subject to myself!
SEBASTIAN.
But, will you hear? think not I mean you should,
Through Milan-streets, page Prospero's proud heels;
Like captive king in Roman victor's train.
ANTHONIO.
Nor will I ever, come what may instead!
Death! to be hooted by a senseless rabble,
The scorn of slaves who knelt i' th' mire to me!
Deserted and despis'd! no refuge left,
Unless to shave my crown, turn whining monk,
And supplicate for scanty dole of bread!
You apprehend too quickly; I no more
Than you mean tamely to return, and live
Obscure in Naples, where I thought to rule;
And yet intend: as thou may'st still in Milan.
ANTHONIO.
At length thou speak'st; say on! I am all attention!
SEBASTIAN.
Vainly 'gainst Prosp'ro's art we had contended;
But, mark our fortune! ere on board he came,
His wand he brake, and drown'd his magick book:
Foregoing, nay abjuring, most fool-like,
The only means by which we had been foil'd!
ANTHONIO.
'Tis true!
SEBASTIAN.
We're equal now! and, by a deed,
The world, were't known, might villainy miscall,
Ere we arrive at Italy's lov'd shore,
Alonso, Prosp'ro, Ferdinand, nay all!
ANTHONIO.
Impossible! so closely we're observ'd!
SEBASTIAN
Go to! to men like us resolv'd, 'tis easy!
For, in the night, whose next morn lights us home,
Can we but get the boat, nay even a plank
Whereon to float ourselves, to th' crew unknown;
We'll sink or fire the ship, whence none can 'scape!
Then to th' amazed multitude on shore,
With hypocritick wailing, tell a tale
Of wreck, and deaths; and reign compleatly blest!
ANTHONIO.
My Delphick oracle! it shall be done!
I' th' ship shall they find death, i' th' sea a grave,
Where they may ever rest! here break we off—
Our faces mask in smiles, and 'tend the king,
Lest our retirement should be marvell'd at;
Confirming th' adage as we play our parts—
Fair visages oft cover foulest hearts!
Exeunt.
SCENE II.
THE DECK.Stephano, Triculo, and Caliban.
STEPHANO.
Now, Ban! how do you stomach sailing? is't
not rare to skim like a gull thus, 'twixt wind and
water? how dost like it, eh?
CALIBAN.
I like it much! This is a brave, fine god!
And bears us daintily;—how swift he is!
He scuds the ocean fleet as fawn the earth!
O, that my dam were living to behold him!
Grim Setebos she would renounce with scorn;
Low, prostrate, fall with me; and thus adore!
[kneeling.]
TRINCULO.
What's i' the wind, now, 'trow?
CALIBAN.
Thou unmatch'd wonder!—miracle of pow'r!
Hear thy vow'd vassal's pray'r, and grant his suit!
Give me but vengeance on my tyrant lord,
(Whom, tho' I feign'd repentance, I detest!)
I'll ever be thy bond-slave worshipper!
[Rising.
TRINCULO.
So! the apostate has got him a new idol,
Stephano; you may return to your dog and
bush again; he'll worship you no more.
CALIBAN.
What means this giddiness?—I cannot stand!
TRINCULO.
And note, if the moon-calf be not drunk too!
STEPHANO.
Out, you ninny!—'tis only the ship's motion
makes him stagger so; as it did me erewhile.
TRINCULO.
By'r lady, and so it may;—but a sherris-sack
was mix'd with the ship's motion when you
caught the staggers.
CALIBAN.
Sure I'm become what they call drunk again!
But know not how;—for, save mere element,
Nought have I swallow'd since I left the island.
How he reels!
CALIBAN.
I pr'ythee shew where I may lie and sleep,
That Prosper see me not: else he will chide!
STEPHANO.
Why, surely, the shallow-brain'd ideot thinks
himself drunk indeed!
TRINCULO.
A rare conceit!—we'll humour it;—and,
while he is napping, if we can find the old
necromancer in the mood, try to get off keeping
watch here at night.
STEPHANO.
Agreed.—Come along, you drunken owl! and
we'll lead you where you may roost in safety,
'till your are sober.
CALIBAN.
But am I drunk in sooth?—I pr'ythee, say!
TRINCULO.
Drunk, quotha? there's a question!—ay,
reeling-ripe, as when the piping fairy led us by
sack: now, only with the ship's motion:—but
a small matter will turn a weak head!
CALIBAN.
Give me sack now! for I can but be drunk!
'Twill drown my fear, and make me full of mirth;
I may as well be jocund-drunk, as sad:—
Give me some sack, I pr'ythee, ere I sleep!
STEPHANO.
Here's a flaggon for you, fish!—the king in the
cabin can't drink better.
CALIBAN.
'Tis passing good! a king 'twill make of me!
This shall my pillow be;—I'll drink and sleep;
Nor dread sour Prosper, while of this I've store.
SINGS.
Then champ'd 'em, and swill'd 'em, rejoic'd so to dine;
Yet, like a dull ass, was raid, beaten, and jeer'd,
Of adder, ape, urchin, and goblin afear'd!
But, liquor celestial now, plenteous, I quaff.
At adder, ape, urchin, and goblin can laugh;
Ho, ho, ho; ho, ho, ho! I now should not fear,
Though Prosper and all his curst spirits were here.
Exeunt.
SCENE III.
THE KING'S CABIN.Enter Ferdinand.
FERDINAND.
How blest a change hath in few hours been wrought,
From dread of death to views of happiest life!
My royal sire preserv'd; a most rare bride
By heav'n, her father, and herself bestow'd:
What could I more have wish'd? how this deserve?
Enter Miranda.
MIRANDA.
My life, my lord, my Ferdinand! where art thou?
FERDINAND.
What means my love? and why this war of white
Against the damask roses of thy cheek?
MIRANDA.
Thou wilt not marvel when thou shalt have heard!—
Yet, can it be? can beauteous, godlike man,
Who bears his great creator's face and form,
His heavenly nature by such deeds debase!
FERDINAND.
Thou talk'st in riddles, dearest! be more plain.
MIRANDA.
Those villain lords,—I tremble while I speak,—
Anthonio and Sebastian, I've o'erheard
Plot a most savage cruelty; and doom
Us all to perish, that themselves may reign!
Resolving, ere we reach th' intended port,
(For their own safety taking first good care)
To burn or sink the ship, and all therein.
FERDINAND.
Well might'st thou, trembling, wonder such could be!
Yet, fear no harm; their foul intent foreknown,
Shall make us guard from that, and ev'ry ill:
Nor think, O purest maid! for they are base,
That the whole race of mankind is the same.
MIRANDA.
That were, sweet love! too simple even in me;
Tho' all unread i'th' peopled world's great book.
Our isle's small page hath school'd me better lore!
My father comes! shield him, all gracious heaven!
PROSPERO.
Wherefore these looks and accents of alarm?
Say, hath there chanc'd any unused event?
Or know you aught to come gives cause of fear?
FERDINAND.
I trust there's none, sir;—but, those treach'rous
Lords, Sebastian and Anthonio, link'd in vice!
Miranda hath o'erheard, remorseless, doom
Their nearest blood, Alonso, thee, nay all!
By sea, or fire, to unprepar'd-for death!
PROSPERO.
And are these wretches men? of women born?
Of kin and kind with us?—retire, retire!
Stay not to see my weakness, should I weep
To think my mother such a monster bore!
Nor he frail Nature's only blot and shame!
Retire, my children;—nay, I pray you go!—
FERDINAND.
Miranda, come!—let us obey thy sire;
And warn, while absent from him, all our friends,
To guard against those villains' dire design.
MIRANDA.
My father! O, my father! guard him, heaven!
Exeunt Ferdinand, and Miranda.
O monstrous! monstrous! wicked, horrid pair!
Worse than the beast I rear'd; who, tho'hell-born,
More human is than these most cursed fiends!
Their plot, thus timely known, must prove abortive;
But the intention I'll severely punish!
Enter Trinculo, and Stephano.
TRINCULO.
There, there he is!—we have caught him alone
at last.—Now to try if we can get off keeping
watch!—He seems but in a crabbed humour
tho;—if I had not taken a cheering draught, I
should not dare to accost him.
STEPHANO.
He can't conjure the cramp into us now, you
know;—so, we may venture safe enough:—
hem!—may it please your highness—
PROSPERO.
How now! what means this bold intrusion, slaves!
STEPHANO.
Heaven defend us from cramp, ague, and palsy!
[They both fall upon their knees.
And may t'other place keep lock'd-up all the
ghosts, devils, and hobgoblins!
PROSPERO.
Hence, drunken fools! upon the deck; away!
TRINCULO.
O lord! that's the very place we want to shun!
—it's almost sunset;—and I would not stay upon
deck when 'tis dark to be duke of Milan.
STEPHANO.
Nor I, though I might marry your highness's
fair daughter.
PROSPERO.
What say the brainless dolts of duke and daughter?
Foul drunkards, hence! and consort with the monster.
TRINCULO.
The monster is now sleeping off his drunkenness;
—good your grace! let him watch while
we sleep off ours.
PROSPERO.
Has he! has Caliban been drunk again?
STEPHANO.
So drunk, an't please you! that we were forc'd
your highness, and swallowing sack, 'till he fell
fast asleep.
PROSPERO.
Haste!—'rouse, and drag th' incorrigible hither!
STEPHANO.
Here will be sad work, I doubt, Trinculo.
[Aside to each other.
TRINCULO.
O for a whirlwind now, to carry us out of
his unmerciful clutches!
Exeunt Stephano and Trinculo.
PROSPERO.
Foul abstract of his dam, and hellish sire!
Nor kindness nor severity avail,
To root out native evil from this beast!
Then let him suffer with these wretched knaves,
And that more-guilty, for less-ignorant pair!
Who, for our safety on this watry waste,
Shall day and night upon the deck abide:
And, when we Naples reach, the bloody lords
I will consign to shame! the savage drive
Into some wild, from haunt of men remote!
Caliban
singing.
Laugh, drink, and sing,
'Till the welkin ring!
I'll firing no more fetch;
But Prosper brain,
And henceforth reign,
Mine own great lord and king!
And shall we quell the hated tyrant now?
PROSPERO.
Approach, thou earth! thou drunken, murd'rous slave!
CALIBAN.
Thou ly'st! I am no slave;—but free as thou!
If I perchance am drunk, 'twas this huge god,
Whose man-fed belly we are now within,
Did make me so while I did worship him.
Must I be ever thus for nothing chid!
PROSPERO.
That was the plea before—a fancied god!
E'en this dull sot, as senseless as thyself;
Who, with his mate and thee, conspir'd my death!
But for this wilful trespass, on the deck,
Hag-seed! besure thou 'bide, from now till morn.
Pack you both with him, sirrahs! and partake
Alike the punishment as the offence!—
I hop'd my fallen brother t'have reclaim'd,
And humaniz'd this wretched, wayward brute;
It may not be:—heaven's ruler governs all!
And, tho' through seeming labyrinths he leads,
The blest event still justifies his ways!
Exit Prospero.
TRINCULO.
So, we must e'en go upon deck at last! in spite
of all our wise schemes to prevent it!—if the devil
or his dam should pay us a visit in the night,
what will become of us, Stephano?
STEPHANO.
Oh, never heed!—the monster is to be with
us;—and companions in distress make sorrow
the less:—I don't care for the old one himself,
when I am in good company: do you, mooncalf?
CALIBAN.
Peace, ye dull fools! I will no more endure
This scurvy jesting;—ye are base and false!
Beware, foul traitors, how henceforth ye mock;
Lest into both I strike my sharpen'd fangs,
And 'gainst each other dash ye, mongrels, dead!
STEPHANO.
What a bloody-minded savage!
TRINCULO.
'Mass! I'm as much afraid of him now, as I
was before of hobgoblins.
STEPHANO.
Fellow Trinculo, we'll watch 'till he's asleep
again; then muzzle, and lash him to the
main-mast: where he may growl his fill, and
we not fear him.
TRINCULO.
A match!—I'll make the muzzle, and you
shall put it on.
STEPHANO.
Come, servant-monster! don't fall out with
your man-i'-the-moon-god! I'll warrant you get
no harm upon deck;—you shall have my cloak to
sleep on, and Trinculo's to cover you; with your
skin full of sack to keep the cold out: and tomorrow
we'll devise some rare revenge against
this old crabstock, Prospero.
The thought of that would make me brave the night,
Tho' rent-up rocks 'mid yesty waves o'erdash'd,
And livid light'ning scath'd my unsty'd head!
STEPHANO.
Cheer up, then!—and, to drive away care,
I'll troul the catch you are so fond of.—I made
it myself, when I was in the bilboes with some
more jolly lads; for railing, in our cups, against
duke Anthonio: who was proxy for the tawnymoor
king of Tunis, at our princess Claribel's
marriage at Naples.
TRINCULO.
I remember it!—you said, tho' his skin was
whiter, you believ'd his heart was as dingy as
king Abdallah's face—so, sing away, boy! and
we'll bear the burthen.
STEPHANO
SINGS.
Flout 'em, and scout 'em—scout 'em and flout 'em,
thought is free;
Maul 'em and gaul 'em—vile names to call 'em,
let's agree:
We care for no king—the duke's a base thing,
worse then we;
In spite of his grace, we'll sing to his face
Liberty!
O, rare liberty!
We'll drink and be free, like fish in the sea:
O, rare liberty!
Burthen.
O, sweet liberty! &c.
O, rare liberty! &c.
Exeunt.
| The Virgin Queen | |