University of Virginia Library

ACT IV.

SCENE I.

A GROVE IN PROSPERO'S ISLE; THE SEA IN VIEW.
The Spirit of Sycorax descends.
SYCORAX.
Here may I shun the blaze of day!
In these my well-known purlieus stray;
While the doom'd vessel steers to land,
Which I'll destroy on Hyrca's strand!
In this dark grove, my mortal frame
A prey to death erewhile became;
And here remain'd my darling boy,
Young Caliban! born to annoy
All those who are not of his kind;
With mother's form, and father's mind!
In yon' riv'n pine I left the elf,
Close pent, who would not yield himself
To my desires; for I was shy
O' th' amorous seamen, sailing by,
And scared them hence! I so disdain'd
All mortal commerce, since I gain'd
A spirit for my paramour!
Whose love I lost on Africk's shore,
By one deed, which the moors thought good,
And therefore left me in this wood;
Tho' by their laws condemn'd to die,
For murder, lust, and sorcery!—
When I had stol'n, for sacrifice
To Setebos, a child; the cries
Of it's sad parents, wide misled,
Made me restore it to their bed:
Fool that I was! but, sweet it smil'd,
And, for the moment, clean beguil'd
My wayward nature! soften'd then
To tenderness, unknown by men;
Who dragg'd me, with unfeeling fangs,
Here, to endure sharp labour's pangs
For unborn Caliban!—What light
So sudden dazzles?—'tis the sprite
I here left wedg'd; who bears a wand,
Of potency I can't withstand!
To Barbary's coast,—in yon black cloud,
Which thither speeds, and will enshroud
From sunny rays my bat-like eyes,—
I'll hasten; and, in time, apprize
Hyrca, that Prosp'ro, and his crew,
Approach: ere night the deed I'll do!

Exit, ascending.
Enter Ariel, with a wand, and other Spirits.
ARIEL.
Thus far, pure friends, success our skill hath crown'd;
And art, to force preferr'd, well steaded us!
The pliant ground yields not more ready way
To the blind pioneer, the sleeky mole;
Nor to th' insinuating worm's more pervious,
Than unto us, in our dispersed search
Of this most precious staff; which my good hap
Chanc'd first to 'light on: no less thanks still due
To each, who freely earth'd his radiant form,
And help'd, when found, it's parts to reunite;
Restoring and augmenting its lost pow'r!
This wand retriev'd, good Prosp'ro's sure support,
For his drown'd book, all fearless, we'll explore
The vast abyss of the ne'er-sounded sea!
Should we recover that, our toil's o'erpaid;
And he again from hellish fiends secure!
Now to the briny ooze; more noisome far
Then vap'rous mine, flint, slime, or clogging clay;
And apt to soil our skiey-tinctur'd wings:
Which must be close compress'd, as deep we dive,
And range through groves of coral; where the nymphs,
And sea-born shepherds, 'neath their moist alcoves,
Repeat their vows, and pour forth all their loves!
ARIEL SINGS.

[Exeunt, towards the sea.

SCENE II.

A BEAUTIFUL COUNTRY.
Abdallah, King of Tunis, discovered in a sumptuous Pavilion.
ABDALLAH.
Night's curtain is withdrawn, and the clear morn
Blushes like bashful bride from couch upris'n;
Whose yellow tresses, all dishevell'd, throw
A golden glare around, creating day!
But what is day after drear nights like mine,
From my sweet bride withheld, my Claribel!
Yet, wherefore do I thus indulge despair?
Still may I hope to be deliver'd hence;
Still hope I shall regain my crown and throne;
From which, as in a dream, my queen and self,
By Hyrca's sorcery, were hither brought:
Me for her brutal lust, detested hag!
And my fair bride her low-degraded slave!
But, soft! I hear the hasteful step of love!
'Tis Claribel! fly sorrow from my breast!
For where she comes nought can abide but joy!

Enter Claribel.
CLARIBEL.
My dear Abdallah! mine and Tunis' lord!
Fain would I greet thee with a happy day;
But the fell sorceress, Hyrca, wild with ire,
That her foul passion still you treat with scorn,
Since midnight hath been working spells and charms,
The prelude of our doom'd destruction nigh!

ABDALLAH.
Were't but myself her wicked pow'r could reach,
I'd meet her utmost fury with a smile;
Yielding my firm and unpolluted flesh
By fiery pincers to be burnt and torn!

CLARIBEL.
And thinks my love that only him would harm?
Thou know'st whate'er of ill should thee betide,
Must wound the love-fraught heart of Claribel!
But, for some hope to mitigate this fear,
As on the ocean's marge e'en now I gaz'd,
I saw a gallant vessel furl her sails;
Whilst from her boat stept divers on the shore:
And see, dear lord! already they approach.

Enter Prospero, and Miranda.
MIRANDA.
'Beseech you, sir! venture no farther on.

PROSPERO.
Fear nothing, sweet! lo, yonder is a pair,
Of human form, and most majestic port;
I will accost them!

MIRANDA.
Rather, sir, avoid them!
They're spirits! and, tho' one seems fair and good,
That, with so dark a hue, is sure a fiend!

PROSPERO.
Collect thyself, my child!—'tis but the tinct
Peculiar to the race in Africk born,
Upon whose coast we now in safety tread;
E'en such a one, yet courteous as ourselves,
Did Ferd'nand's sister, Claribel, late wed:
Should this man prove but good as Fame speaks him,
And from fell Sycorax' malice Heav'n doth shield,
We cannot doubt of succour in our need.

CLARIBEL.
Heard you, Abdallah, what this stranger said?

ABDLLAH.
Dearest! I did; and am absorb'd in wonder!
'Please you, grave sir! approach; and you, fair maid!
Nor lack for aught, save what we also want.

Enter Ferdinand, his sword drawn; and, soon after, Alonso, Adrian, and Francisco.
FERDINAND.
The beast no longer seems invulnerable,
But shuns my sword! and, with his foul compeers,
Growling, a different track from us pursues.

PROSPERO.
To share my fortunes since ye all persist,
As yet, 'thank Heav'n! we are not only safe,
But landed on a seeming plenteous spot;
Where are inhabitants, of manners mild
As their soft climate's sweet salubrious air.

ALONSO.
The moorish king, Abdallah, and my child!
'Tis sure enchanted ground!—are we in Tunis?
Do we but dream? or, is it witchcraft all!

GONZALO.
Witchcraft, I doubt! and these but devils, sir,
Tho' in your children's forms!

ALONSO.
Art thou my child?
An insubstantial shade? or wicked fiend!

Ferdinand.
[embracing Claribel.
Shade art thou none, but Claribel herself!—
No fiend had ever pow'r to look so fair!

Claribel.
[kneeling to Alonso.
Astonishment hath held me dumb till now!—
'Tis your own Claribel, your wretched child!

ALONSO.
Ha! wherefore wretched? speak, ungrateful king!
Did I deprive our Europe of those charms,
To have my child in Tunis wretched made!

CLARIBEL.
Oh, no!—alack, sir, we are far from thence!

ABDALLAH.
Great king of Naples! my most honour'd sire!
Whom to behold again was past my hope—
Fly, with your goodly company, this place;
And rescue hence your Claribel and son!
But, if that may not be, secure yourselves.

ALONSO.
Explain, my son! declare what ill awaits!

ABDALLAH.
Here bides a potent sorceress; by whose art
From Tunis we were hither strangely brought,
Soon as your royal fleet had homeward sail'd;
Myself the object of her foul desire,
My virgin-queen in bondage basely held!
Her the vile witch would elsewhere fain have stay'd,
But had not pow'r; and, though till now debarr'd
Due nuptial rites, on each returning morn
Like th' eastern sun she glads my longing eye!
For even witchcraft can't divide the pair,
Whose love-link'd hearts are holily conjoin'd!

PROSPERO.
Mysterious Heav'n sure pointed out the path,
To free from hence this twain! my mind's at rest!
Let us, my friends, strait victual home our ship;
And, nought impeding, quickly re-embark—
Come, I'll instruct you, sirs, how to ensnare
The antelope, and dappled, bounding fawn;
Whilst younger Ferdinand doth agile climb
The trees and cliffs, for birdlings therein nested.

FERDINAND.
Miranda, sweet! stay thou with Claribel,
Thy Ferdinand's lov'd sister, and now thine;
I must accompany our sires and friends,
Swift as the roe-buck to outstrip our game!

ABDALLAH.
I'll guide you, strait, to where you'll plenteous find
The finn'd and feather'd race; unto the haunts
O'th' clamb'ring kid, and lowly, and timid hare;
Or, if a nobler game you would pursue,
The stag, the buffalo, and tusked boar.

PROSPERO.
Lead on, great sir! 'twill be a royal chace,
Wherein a king doth rouse for us our game!
Stay with yon' fair one, chuck! nor fear mis-chance.
This wond'rous meeting Heav'n, I'm sure, design'd
The foretaste of still greater bliss in store!

[Exeunt all but Claribel and Miranda.
CLARIBEL.
Stranger! with whom my Ferdinand seems charm'd,
Say, whence and who thou art?—a queen?—his bride?
That, since my nuptials, he hath woo'd and wed?

MIRANDA.
Answer me first.—Why did you kiss my love?
I much admir'd, 'till then, your angel-face!
Are you an angel, or of woman-kind?
For nought to judge by saw I e'er before;
Except the mocking shadow of myself,
And Ariel, my grave sire's angelick sprite;
You most resemble me, tho' fairer far!

CLARIBEL.
Thy speech is passing strange! but, if't be sooth,
Thy innocence deceives thee overmuch.
No more can I, a woman like thyself,
Compare with thee, true type of Beauty's queen!
Than can with Ferdinand, the moor, my lord;
Whom, ne'ertheless, past health and life I love!

MIRANDA.
What, that dark creature!—'tis impossible;—
As soon the swan might on the raven dote!

CLARIBEL.
I thought like thee when first I saw the moor,
And almost loath'd where duty bade me love.
But my Abdallah has a snow-white soul,
Which o'er his hue a beamy lustre throws!
He won the heart Alonso could not give,
And chang'd my mere obedience into choice:
Then be not jealous, fairest! thou'st no cause;
Much as a sister should, I Ferd'nand love;
But not a jot, sweet! more.

MIRANDA.
Jealous! what's that?
Is it a Naples, or a Tunis word?
I know not what it means;—but am content!
So kind you look, and fair you speak, I'm sure
You cannot mean to do me any wrong.

CLARIBEL.
Come, then, sweet heart! and, in th' adjacent bow'r,
Repose thee 'till our lords and sires return;
Taste of the pine, or more nutritious fig;
Whilst the pomegranate and sharp citron's juice,
Temp'ring each other, form our pleasing draught.

MIRANDA.
Shew me, I pray, to the clear, running stream;
With, if you have't, a little new-drawn milk;
Some berries, cracknels, or ripe ears of corn;
And, our creator thanking first, then thee
For thy great goodness to a stranger maid;
I'll break my fast, nor covet better fare!

Enter Caliban, Anthonio, and Sebastian.
CALIBAN.
They're out of sight and hearing far enow;
And I, securely, may my mistress seize.

ANTHONIO.
Ha! beauteous Claribel! my long belov'd!
Whom I, in Naples, for another wedded;
Hopeless I e'er should clasp thee thus, my own!

CLARIBEL.
What means Anthonio?—surely you but jest.

MIRANDA.
The villain lords, and that abhorred beast!
Fly, fly, fair queen! or we're for ever lost!

CALIBAN.
Stay, gaudy goldfinch! flit not hence so soon!
Nor thou, sweet mistress!

MIRANDA and CLARIBEL.
Ah!

[screaming.
CALIBAN.
I have ye fast!

[Seizing the females.
CLARIBEL.
My uncle! dear Sebastian! guard your neice
From this grim monster! good Anthonio, help—

ANTHONIO.
To bear thee hence, my matchless Claribel!
Thy father doom'd thee to a Moor's embrace,
And left thee, 'mid'st barbarians, a sold slave;
I will enfranchise strait and make thee mine!

SEBASTIAN.
And with Sebastian shall Miranda share
The joys of life, and splendour of a crown!

CALIBAN.
But whom shall I have, if you each take one?
My mistress have I ever hunger'd for!
Sty'd in a rock with her, on acorns fed;
Sea-brine, or stagnant, mantled-pool to drink;
On her alone I, gluttoning, could have gorg'd:
And nothing lack'd, having my nonpareil!

[Attempting to clasp Miranda.
MIRANDA.
Save me, Anthonio! save your helpless niece!

ANTHONIO.
My charge is here; Sebastian's your protector:

SEBASTIAN.
Forego your hold!—Miranda must be mine!
The other female, if Anthonio list,
Thou'rt free to take; but this I'll guard with life!

CALIBAN.
'Tis well there is another to appease me;
Else her I'd have, or will, or nill ye, fool!
This is as red and white, and finer far!
Wilt thou be mine, my jay, my parroquet?
Thou'rt wond'rous gaudy; I shall love thee much!

ANTHONIO.
Stand off, base brute! this is my lovely prize;—
Miranda, only, you came here in quest of;—
Her you must have, or none!

CALIBAN.
Oh, ho, oh, ho!

[Roaring tremendously with anger.
CLARIBEL.
Heav'n, what a contest!

MIRANDA.
No way to escape?

CALIBAN.
What, am I both denied?—then, both I'll have!
Your holds forego, and quit them strait to me;
Or, by my dam's god, Setebos, I swear,
I'll flay ye quick! and rend you joint from joint!

[Caliban seizing the men the females get free.]
CLARIBEL.
Fly, fly!—Abdallah!

MIRANDA.
Ferd'nand! father! friends!

[Exeunt severally.
CALIBAN.
Let loose, ye barnacles!—they both are flown!

ANTHONIO.
We hold thee not!—'tis thou detainest us!
Darting your talons through our robes and skins,
Which you can scarce withdraw!

SEBASTIAN.
I'm struck to th' bone!

CALIBAN.
Thus, then, I wrench them forth!

ANTHONIO AND SEBASTIAN.
Oh!—

CALIBAN.
Howl ye? dogs!
If I could tarry I would give ye cause;
And into atoms tear your quivering hearts!

Exeunt severally.

SCENE III.

THE SEA-BEACH.
Enter Trinculo, and Stephano with his Bottle.
TRINCULO.

What a tedious time these lubbers are,
making the boat fast!—'would they were come!
my belly cries cupboard most voraciously; and
I dare not stir a foot up the country to look for
food by myself, for fear of tumbling into such
a pit as Caliban talk'd of in his sleep; which that
fury, Sycorax, may have dug for the cross old
duke!

STEPHANO.

By the mass, Trinculo, I would not stand in
his shoes, though they be made of velvet, for
his whole dukedom! I warrant she and her imps
will give him a warm reception! boiling in lead
or oil is the least he can expect!

Enter Master, Boatswain, and Mariners.
MASTER.

Come, my hearts! now the ship's moor'd, and
the boat haul'd ashore, let's take a landcruise
in chace of some provision.

TRINCULO.

I'faith, master, my belly clings together like
an empty satchel! if we had not found land
here, we should have been pretty sharp set before
we reach'd Naples; and forc'd to draw lots
for a slice of one another.

STEPHANO.

Not whilst we had such sack as this aboard;
he that could not sail all the world over, with
this for his comfort, ought never to taste good
liquor while he breath'd at nostrils.

MASTER.

That may do with you, honest butler; but
we want something more substantial.—Come, let
us go in a body, in case of meeting wild beasts,
or savages; and see what this land produces:—
tend to the Boatswain's whistle!

BOATSWAIN.
[Blows his whistle.]

Come, bear a hand, bear a hand, my hearts!
a heigh!

STEPHANO.

You may bear a hand by yourself, for me!—
I shall neither bear a hand, nor budge a foot,
while this lasts.—I don't care for roaming any
farther up this coast, for fear of meeting that

she-devil, Sycorax; or that devil's imp, her
son!—should he find nothing else eatable ashore,
he'll make no bones of one or two of us!

MASTER.

For that reason, we ought to keep all together;
that we may make the better defence
against him.

BOATSWAIN.

Come, heave a head, you lubber! let us steer
upward; it looks like a plentiful country:—if
inhabited, we may not only get provision, but
a willing wench into the bargain.

STEPHANO.

That thought 'rouses me—a wench, a heigh!
O, that I could but meet my queen, that was to
be, the sour duke's sweet daughter; I am in a
rare cue for courtship!

TRINCULO.

Mass! I am in a better for a meal's
meat! and would exchange the daintiest duke's
daughter in Christendom, ay, and Barbary to
boot, for a good belly-full!

STEPHANO.

As the old conjuror is certainly made away
with, by this time; if we can but 'scape witchcraft

and cannibals, and my queen and I settle
preliminaries, who knows but I may erect a new
monarchy here:—if so, look to be great men,
all of you!

TRINCULO.

O, rare! king Stephano for ever!

STEPHANO
sings,

ALL.

Exeunt.