Where we, in all her trim, freshly beheld
Our royal, good, and gallant ship; our master
Cap’ring to eye her: on a trice, so please you,
Even in a dream, were we divided from them,
And were brought moping hither.
ARIEL.
[Aside to PROSPERO] Was’t well done?
PROSPERO. [Aside to ARIEL] Bravely, my diligence. Thou shalt be free.
ALONSO.
This is as strange a maze as e’er men trod;
And there is in this business more than nature
Was ever conduct of: some oracle
Must rectify our knowledge.
PROSPERO.
Sir, my liege,
Do not infest your mind with beating on
The strangeness of this business: at pick’d leisure,
Which shall be shortly, single I’ll resolve you,—
Which to you shall seem probable—of every
These happen’d accidents; till when, be cheerful
And think of each thing well.—[Aside to ARIEL] Come
hither, spirit;
Set Caliban and his companions free;
Untie the spell. [Exit ARIEL] How fares my gracious sir?
There are yet missing of your company
Some few odd lads that you remember not.
[Re-enter ARIEL, driving in CALIBAN, STEPHANO, and
TRINCULO, in their stolen apparel.]
STEPHANO. Every man shift for all the rest, and let no man take care for himself, for all is but fortune.—Coragio! bully-monster, Coragio!
TRINCULO. If these be true spies which I wear in my head, here’s a goodly sight.
CALIBAN.
O Setebos, these be brave spirits indeed.
How fine my master is! I am afraid
He will chastise me.
SEBASTIAN.
Ha, ha!
What things are these, my lord Antonio?
Will money buy them?
ANTONIO.
Very like; one of them
Is a plain fish, and, no doubt, marketable.
PROSPERO.
Mark but the badges of these men, my lords,
Then say if they be true.—This misshapen knave—
His mother was a witch; and one so strong
That could control the moon, make flows and ebbs,
And deal in her command without her power.
These three have robb’d me; and this demi-devil,—
For he’s a bastard one,—had plotted with them
To take my life: two of these fellows you
Must know and own; this thing of darkness I
Acknowledge mine.
CALIBAN.
I shall be pinch’d to death.
ALONSO.
Is not this Stephano, my drunken butler?
SEBASTIAN.
He is drunk now: where had he wine?
ALONSO.
And Trinculo is reeling-ripe: where should they
Find this grand liquor that hath gilded them?
How cam’st thou in this pickle?
TRINCULO. I have been in such a pickle since I saw you last that, I fear me, will never out of my bones. I shall not fear fly-blowing.
SEBASTIAN.
Why, how now, Stephano!
STEPHANO.
O! touch me not: I am not Stephano, but a cramp.
PROSPERO.
You’d be king o’ the isle, sirrah?
STEPHANO.
I should have been a sore one, then.
ALONSO.
This is as strange a thing as e’er I look’d on.
[Pointing to CALIBAN]
PROSPERO.
He is as disproportioned in his manners
As in his shape.—Go, sirrah, to my cell;
Take with you your companions: as you look
To have my pardon, trim it handsomely.
CALIBAN.
Ay, that I will; and I’ll be wise hereafter,
And seek for grace. What a thrice-double ass
Was I, to take this drunkard for a god,
And worship this dull fool!
PROSPERO.
Go to; away!
ALONSO.
Hence, and bestow your luggage where you found it.
SEBASTIAN.
Or stole it, rather.
[Exeunt CALIBAN, STEPHANO, and TRINCULO.]
PROSPERO.
Sir, I invite your Highness and your train
To my poor cell, where you shall take your rest
For this one night; which—part of it—I’ll waste
With such discourse as, I not doubt, shall make it
Go quick away; the story of my life
And the particular accidents gone by
Since I came to this isle: and in the morn
I’ll bring you to your ship, and so to Naples,
Where I have hope to see the nuptial
Of these our dear-belov’d solemnized;
And thence retire me to my Milan, where
Every third thought shall be my grave.
ALONSO.
I long To hear the story of your life, which must
Take the ear strangely.
PROSPERO.
I’ll deliver all;
And promise you calm seas, auspicious gales,
And sail so expeditious that shall catch
Your royal fleet far off.—[Aside to ARIEL] My Ariel,
chick,
That is thy charge: then to the elements
Be free, and fare thou well!—Please you, draw near.
[Exeunt]
EPILOGUE
[Spoken by PROSPERO]
Now my charms are all o’erthrown,
And what strength I have’s mine own;
Which is most faint; now ‘tis true,
I must be here confin’d by you,
Or sent to Naples. Let me not,