ACT III. SCENE 1  Before PROSPERO'S cell  Enter FERDINAND, hearing a log    FERDINAND. There be some sports are painful, and their     labour     Delight in them sets off; some kinds of baseness     Are nobly undergone, and most poor matters     Point to rich ends. This my mean task     Would be as heavy to me as odious, but     The mistress which I serve quickens what's dead,     And makes my labours pleasures. O, she is     Ten times more gentle than her father's crabbed;     And he's compos'd of harshness. I must remove     Some thousands of these logs, and pile them up,     Upon a sore injunction; my sweet mistress     Weeps when she sees me work, and says such baseness     Had never like executor. I forget;     But these sweet thoughts do even refresh my labours,     Most busy, least when I do it.          Enter MIRANDA; and PROSPERO at a distance, unseen    MIRANDA. Alas, now; pray you,     Work not so hard; I would the lightning had     Burnt up those logs that you are enjoin'd to pile.     Pray, set it down and rest you; when this burns,     'Twill weep for having wearied you. My father     Is hard at study; pray, now, rest yourself;     He's safe for these three hours.   FERDINAND. O most dear mistress,     The sun will set before I shall discharge     What I must strive to do.   MIRANDA. If you'll sit down,     I'll bear your logs the while; pray give me that;     I'll carry it to the pile.   FERDINAND. No, precious creature;     I had rather crack my sinews, break my back,     Than you should such dishonour undergo,     While I sit lazy by.   MIRANDA. It would become me     As well as it does you; and I should do it     With much more ease; for my good will is to it,     And yours it is against.   PROSPERO.  [Aside]  Poor worm, thou art infected!     This visitation shows it.   MIRANDA. You look wearily.   FERDINAND. No, noble mistress; 'tis fresh morning with me     When you are by at night. I do beseech you,     Chiefly that I might set it in my prayers,     What is your name?   MIRANDA. Miranda-O my father,     I have broke your hest to say so!   FERDINAND. Admir'd Miranda!     What's dearest to the world! Full many a lady     I have ey'd with best regard; and many a time     Th' harmony of their tongues hath into bondage     Brought my too diligent ear; for several virtues     Have I lik'd several women, never any     With so full soul, but some defect in her     Did quarrel with the noblest grace she ow'd,     And put it to the foil; but you, O you,     So perfect and so peerless, are created     Of every creature's best!   MIRANDA. I do not know     One of my sex; no woman's face remember,     Save, from my glass, mine own; nor have I seen     More that I may call men than you, good friend,     And my dear father. How features are abroad,     I am skilless of; but, by my modesty,     The jewel in my dower, I would not wish     Any companion in the world but you;     Nor can imagination form a shape,     Besides yourself, to like of. But I prattle     Something too wildly, and my father's precepts     I therein do forget.   FERDINAND. I am, in my condition,     A prince, Miranda; I do think, a king-     I would not so!-and would no more endure     This wooden slavery than to suffer     The flesh-fly blow my mouth. Hear my soul speak:     The very instant that I saw you, did     My heart fly to your service; there resides     To make me slave to it; and for your sake     Am I this patient log-man.   MIRANDA. Do you love me?   FERDINAND. O heaven, O earth, bear witness to this sound,     And crown what I profess with kind event,     If I speak true! If hollowly, invert     What best is boded me to mischief! I,     Beyond all limit of what else i' th' world,     Do love, prize, honour you.   MIRANDA. I am a fool     To weep at what I am glad of.   PROSPERO.  [Aside]  Fair encounter     Of two most rare affections! Heavens rain grace     On that which breeds between 'em!   FERDINAND. Wherefore weep you?   MIRANDA. At mine unworthiness, that dare not offer     What I desire to give, and much less take     What I shall die to want. But this is trifling;     And all the more it seeks to hide itself,     The bigger bulk it shows. Hence, bashful cunning!     And prompt me, plain and holy innocence!     I am your wife, if you will marry me;     If not, I'll die your maid. To be your fellow     You may deny me; but I'll be your servant,     Whether you will or no.   FERDINAND. My mistress, dearest;     And I thus humble ever.   MIRANDA. My husband, then?   FERDINAND. Ay, with a heart as willing     As bondage e'er of freedom. Here's my hand.   MIRANDA. And mine, with my heart in't. And now farewell     Till half an hour hence.   FERDINAND. A thousand thousand!                           Exeunt FERDINAND and MIRANDA severally   PROSPERO. So glad of this as they I cannot be,     Who are surpris'd withal; but my rejoicing     At nothing can be more. I'll to my book;     For yet ere supper time must I perform     Much business appertaining.                             Exit     SCENE 2  Another part of the island  Enter CALIBAN, STEPHANO, and TRINCULO    STEPHANO. Tell not me-when the butt is out we will drink     water, not a drop before; therefore bear up, and board     'em. Servant-monster, drink to me.   TRINCULO. Servant-monster! The folly of this island! They     say there's but five upon this isle: we are three of     them; if th' other two be brain'd like us, the state     totters.   STEPHANO. Drink, servant-monster, when I bid thee; thy     eyes are almost set in thy head.   TRINCULO. Where should they be set else? He were a brave     monster indeed, if they were set in his tail.   STEPHANO. My man-monster hath drown'd his tongue in     sack. For my part, the sea cannot drown me; I swam, ere     I could recover the shore, five and thirty leagues, off     and on. By this light, thou shalt be my lieutenant,     monster, or my standard.   TRINCULO. Your lieutenant, if you list; he's no standard.   STEPHANO. We'll not run, Monsieur Monster.   TRINCULO. Nor go neither; but you'll lie like dogs, and     yet say nothing neither.   STEPHANO. Moon-calf, speak once in thy life, if thou beest     a good moon-calf.   CALIBAN. How does thy honour? Let me lick thy shoe.     I'll not serve him; he is not valiant.   TRINCULO. Thou liest, most ignorant monster: I am in case     to justle a constable. Why, thou debosh'd fish, thou,     was there ever man a coward that hath drunk so much sack     as I to-day? Wilt thou tell a monstrous lie, being but     half fish and half a monster?   CALIBAN. Lo, how he mocks me! Wilt thou let him, my     lord?   TRINCULO. 'Lord' quoth he! That a monster should be such     a natural!   CALIBAN. Lo, lo again! Bite him to death, I prithee.   STEPHANO. Trinculo, keep a good tongue in your head; if     you prove a mutineer-the next tree! The poor monster's     my subject, and he shall not suffer indignity.   CALIBAN. I thank my noble lord. Wilt thou be pleas'd to     hearken once again to the suit I made to thee?   STEPHANO. Marry will I; kneel and repeat it; I will stand,     and so shall Trinculo.                       Enter ARIEL, invisible    CALIBAN. As I told thee before, I am subject to a tyrant,     sorcerer, that by his cunning hath cheated me of the     island.   ARIEL. Thou liest.   CALIBAN. Thou liest, thou jesting monkey, thou;     I would my valiant master would destroy thee.     I do not lie.   STEPHANO. Trinculo, if you trouble him any more in's tale,     by this hand, I will supplant some of your teeth.   TRINCULO. Why, I said nothing.   STEPHANO. Mum, then, and no more. Proceed.   CALIBAN. I say, by sorcery he got this isle;     From me he got it. If thy greatness will     Revenge it on him-for I know thou dar'st,     But this thing dare not-   STEPHANO. That's most certain.   CALIBAN. Thou shalt be lord of it, and I'll serve thee.   STEPHANO. How now shall this be compass'd? Canst thou     bring me to the party?   CALIBAN. Yea, yea, my lord; I'll yield him thee asleep,     Where thou mayst knock a nail into his head.   ARIEL. Thou liest; thou canst not.   CALIBAN. What a pied ninny's this! Thou scurvy patch!     I do beseech thy greatness, give him blows,     And take his bottle from him. When that's gone     He shall drink nought but brine; for I'll not show him     Where the quick freshes are.   STEPHANO. Trinculo, run into no further danger; interrupt     the monster one word further and, by this hand, I'll turn     my mercy out o' doors, and make a stock-fish of thee.   TRINCULO. Why, what did I? I did nothing. I'll go farther     off.   STEPHANO. Didst thou not say he lied?   ARIEL. Thou liest.   STEPHANO. Do I so? Take thou that.  [Beats him]  As you like     this, give me the lie another time.   TRINCULO. I did not give the lie. Out o' your wits and     hearing too? A pox o' your bottle! This can sack and     drinking do. A murrain on your monster, and the devil     take your fingers!   CALIBAN. Ha, ha, ha!   STEPHANO. Now, forward with your tale.-Prithee stand     further off.   CALIBAN. Beat him enough; after a little time, I'll beat     him too.   STEPHANO. Stand farther. Come, proceed.   CALIBAN. Why, as I told thee, 'tis a custom with him     I' th' afternoon to sleep; there thou mayst brain him,     Having first seiz'd his books; or with a log     Batter his skull, or paunch him with a stake,     Or cut his wezand with thy knife. Remember     First to possess his books; for without them     He's but a sot, as I am, nor hath not     One spirit to command; they all do hate him     As rootedly as I. Burn but his books.     He has brave utensils-for so he calls them-     Which, when he has a house, he'll deck withal.     And that most deeply to consider is     The beauty of his daughter; he himself     Calls her a nonpareil. I never saw a woman     But only Sycorax my dam and she;     But she as far surpasseth Sycorax     As great'st does least.   STEPHANO. Is it so brave a lass?   CALIBAN. Ay, lord; she will become thy bed, I warrant,     And bring thee forth brave brood.   STEPHANO. Monster, I will kill this man; his daughter and I     will be King and Queen-save our Graces!-and Trinculo     and thyself shall be viceroys. Dost thou like the plot,     Trinculo?   TRINCULO. Excellent.   STEPHANO. Give me thy hand; I am sorry I beat thee; but     while thou liv'st, keep a good tongue in thy head.   CALIBAN. Within this half hour will he be asleep.     Wilt thou destroy him then?   STEPHANO. Ay, on mine honour.   ARIEL. This will I tell my master.   CALIBAN. Thou mak'st me merry; I am full of pleasure.     Let us be jocund; will you troll the catch     You taught me but while-ere?   STEPHANO. At thy request, monster, I will do reason, any     reason. Come on, Trinculo, let us sing.              [Sings]      Flout 'em and scout 'em,     And scout 'em and flout 'em;     Thought is free.    CALIBAN. That's not the tune.                       [ARIEL plays the tune on a tabor and pipe]   STEPHANO. What is this same?   TRINCULO. This is the tune of our catch, play'd by the     picture of Nobody.   STEPHANO. If thou beest a man, show thyself in thy     likeness; if thou beest a devil, take't as thou list.   TRINCULO. O, forgive me my sins!   STEPHANO. He that dies pays all debts. I defy thee. Mercy     upon us!   CALIBAN. Art thou afeard?   STEPHANO. No, monster, not I.   CALIBAN. Be not afeard. The isle is full of noises,     Sounds, and sweet airs, that give delight, and hurt not.     Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments     Will hum about mine ears; and sometimes voices,     That, if I then had wak'd after long sleep,     Will make me sleep again; and then, in dreaming,     The clouds methought would open and show riches     Ready to drop upon me, that, when I wak'd,     I cried to dream again.   STEPHANO. This will prove a brave kingdom to me, where I     shall have my music for nothing.   CALIBAN. When Prospero is destroy'd.   STEPHANO. That shall be by and by; I remember the story.   TRINCULO. The sound is going away; let's follow it, and     after do our work.   STEPHANO. Lead, monster; we'll follow. I would I could see     this taborer; he lays it on.   TRINCULO. Wilt come? I'll follow, Stephano.             Exeunt     SCENE 3  Another part of the island  Enter ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, GONZALO, ADRIAN, FRANCISCO, and OTHERS    GONZALO. By'r lakin, I can go no further, sir;     My old bones ache. Here's a maze trod, indeed,     Through forth-rights and meanders! By your patience,     I needs must rest me.   ALONSO. Old lord, I cannot blame thee,     Who am myself attach'd with weariness     To th' dulling of my spirits; sit down and rest.     Even here I will put off my hope, and keep it     No longer for my flatterer; he is drown'd     Whom thus we stray to find, and the sea mocks     Our frustrate search on land. Well, let him go.   ANTONIO.  [Aside to SEBASTIAN]  I am right glad that he's     so out of hope.     Do not, for one repulse, forgo the purpose     That you resolv'd t' effect.   SEBASTIAN.  [Aside to ANTONIO]  The next advantage     Will we take throughly.   ANTONIO.  [Aside to SEBASTIAN]  Let it be to-night;     For, now they are oppress'd with travel, they     Will not, nor cannot, use such vigilance     As when they are fresh.   SEBASTIAN.  [Aside to ANTONIO]  I say, to-night; no more.             Solemn and strange music; and PROSPERO on the            top, invisible. Enter several strange SHAPES,            bringing in a banquet; and dance about it with            gentle actions of salutations; and inviting the            KING, etc., to eat, they depart    ALONSO. What harmony is this? My good friends, hark!   GONZALO. Marvellous sweet music!   ALONSO. Give us kind keepers, heavens! What were these?   SEBASTIAN. A living drollery. Now I will believe     That there are unicorns; that in Arabia     There is one tree, the phoenix' throne, one phoenix     At this hour reigning-there.   ANTONIO. I'll believe both;     And what does else want credit, come to me,     And I'll be sworn 'tis true; travellers ne'er did lie,     Though fools at home condemn 'em.   GONZALO. If in Naples     I should report this now, would they believe me?     If I should say, I saw such islanders,     For certes these are people of the island,     Who though they are of monstrous shape yet, note,     Their manners are more gentle-kind than of     Our human generation you shall find     Many, nay, almost any.   PROSPERO.  [Aside]  Honest lord,     Thou hast said well; for some of you there present     Are worse than devils.   ALONSO. I cannot too much muse     Such shapes, such gesture, and such sound, expressing,     Although they want the use of tongue, a kind     Of excellent dumb discourse.   PROSPERO.  [Aside]  Praise in departing.   FRANCISCO. They vanish'd strangely.   SEBASTIAN. No matter, since     They have left their viands behind; for we have stomachs.     Will't please you taste of what is here?   ALONSO. Not I.   GONZALO. Faith, sir, you need not fear. When we were boys,     Who would believe that there were mountaineers,     Dewlapp'd like bulls, whose throats had hanging at 'em     Wallets of flesh? or that there were such men     Whose heads stood in their breasts? which now we find     Each putter-out of five for one will bring us     Good warrant of.   ALONSO. I will stand to, and feed,     Although my last; no matter, since I feel     The best is past. Brother, my lord the Duke,     Stand to, and do as we.         Thunder and lightning. Enter ARIEL, like a harpy;        claps his wings upon the table; and, with a quaint                 device, the banquet vanishes    ARIEL. You are three men of sin, whom Destiny,     That hath to instrument this lower world     And what is in't, the never-surfeited sea     Hath caus'd to belch up you; and on this island     Where man doth not inhabit-you 'mongst men     Being most unfit to live. I have made you mad;     And even with such-like valour men hang and drown     Their proper selves.                      [ALONSO, SEBASTIAN etc., draw their swords]     You fools! I and my fellows     Are ministers of Fate; the elements     Of whom your swords are temper'd may as well     Wound the loud winds, or with bemock'd-at stabs     Kill the still-closing waters, as diminish     One dowle that's in my plume; my fellow-ministers     Are like invulnerable. If you could hurt,     Your swords are now too massy for your strengths     And will not be uplifted. But remember-     For that's my business to you-that you three     From Milan did supplant good Prospero;     Expos'd unto the sea, which hath requit it,     Him, and his innocent child; for which foul deed     The pow'rs, delaying, not forgetting, have     Incens'd the seas and shores, yea, all the creatures,     Against your peace. Thee of thy son, Alonso,     They have bereft; and do pronounce by me     Ling'ring perdition, worse than any death     Can be at once, shall step by step attend     You and your ways; whose wraths to guard you from-     Which here, in this most desolate isle, else falls     Upon your heads-is nothing but heart's sorrow,     And a clear life ensuing.          He vanishes in thunder; then, to soft music, enter         the SHAPES again, and dance, with mocks and mows,                 and carrying out the table    PROSPERO. Bravely the figure of this harpy hast thou     Perform'd, my Ariel; a grace it had, devouring.     Of my instruction hast thou nothing bated     In what thou hadst to say; so, with good life     And observation strange, my meaner ministers     Their several kinds have done. My high charms work,     And these mine enemies are all knit up     In their distractions. They now are in my pow'r;     And in these fits I leave them, while I visit     Young Ferdinand, whom they suppose is drown'd,     And his and mine lov'd darling.                   Exit above   GONZALO. I' th' name of something holy, sir, why stand you     In this strange stare?   ALONSO. O, it is monstrous, monstrous!     Methought the billows spoke, and told me of it;     The winds did sing it to me; and the thunder,     That deep and dreadful organ-pipe, pronounc'd     The name of Prosper; it did bass my trespass.     Therefore my son i' th' ooze is bedded; and     I'll seek him deeper than e'er plummet sounded,     And with him there lie mudded.                          Exit   SEBASTIAN. But one fiend at a time,     I'll fight their legions o'er.   ANTONIO. I'll be thy second.      Exeunt SEBASTIAN and ANTONIO   GONZALO. All three of them are desperate; their great guilt,     Like poison given to work a great time after,     Now gins to bite the spirits. I do beseech you,     That are of suppler joints, follow them swiftly,     And hinder them from what this ecstasy     May now provoke them to.   ADRIAN. Follow, I pray you.                             Exeunt