Goblin Men

Goblin Market

BY CHRISTINA ROSSETTI

Morning and evening 

Maids heard the goblins cry: 

“Come buy our orchard fruits, 

Come buy, come buy: 

Apples and quinces, 

Lemons and oranges, 

Plump unpeck’d cherries, 

Melons and raspberries, 

Bloom-down-cheek’d peaches, 

Swart-headed mulberries, 

Wild free-born cranberries, 

Crab-apples, dewberries, 

Pine-apples, blackberries, 

Apricots, strawberries;— 

All ripe together 

In summer weather,— 

Morns that pass by, 

Fair eves that fly; 

Come buy, come buy: 

Our grapes fresh from the vine, 

Pomegranates full and fine, 

Dates and sharp bullaces, 

Rare pears and greengages, 

Damsons and bilberries, 

Taste them and try: 

Currants and gooseberries, 

Bright-fire-like barberries, 

Figs to fill your mouth, 

Citrons from the South, 

Sweet to tongue and sound to eye; 

Come buy, come buy.” 

Evening by evening 

Among the brookside rushes, 

Laura bow’d her head to hear, 

Lizzie veil’d her blushes: 

Crouching close together 

In the cooling weather, 

With clasping arms and cautioning lips, 

With tingling cheeks and finger tips. 

“Lie close,” Laura said, 

Pricking up her golden head: 

“We must not look at goblin men, 

We must not buy their fruits: 

Who knows upon what soil they fed 

Their hungry thirsty roots?” 

“Come buy,” call the goblins 

Hobbling down the glen. 

“Oh,” cried Lizzie, “Laura, Laura, 

You should not peep at goblin men.” 

Lizzie cover’d up her eyes, 

Cover’d close lest they should look; 

Laura rear’d her glossy head, 

And whisper’d like the restless brook: 

“Look, Lizzie, look, Lizzie, 

Down the glen tramp little men. 

One hauls a basket, 

One bears a plate, 

One lugs a golden dish 

Of many pounds weight. 

How fair the vine must grow 

Whose grapes are so luscious; 

How warm the wind must blow 

Through those fruit bushes.” 

“No,” said Lizzie, “No, no, no; 

Their offers should not charm us, 

Their evil gifts would harm us.” 

She thrust a dimpled finger 

In each ear, shut eyes and ran: 

Curious Laura chose to linger 

Wondering at each merchant man. 

One had a cat’s face, 

One whisk’d a tail, 

One tramp’d at a rat’s pace, 

One crawl’d like a snail, 

One like a wombat prowl’d obtuse and furry, 

One like a ratel tumbled hurry skurry. 

She heard a voice like voice of doves 

Cooing all together: 

They sounded kind and full of loves 

In the pleasant weather. 

Laura stretch’d her gleaming neck 

Like a rush-imbedded swan, 

Like a lily from the beck, 

Like a moonlit poplar branch, 

Like a vessel at the launch 

When its last restraint is gone. 

Backwards up the mossy glen 

Turn’d and troop’d the goblin men, 

With their shrill repeated cry, 

“Come buy, come buy.” 

When they reach’d where Laura was 

They stood stock still upon the moss, 

Leering at each other, 

Brother with queer brother; 

Signalling each other, 

Brother with sly brother. 

One set his basket down, 

One rear’d his plate; 

One began to weave a crown 

Of tendrils, leaves, and rough nuts brown 

(Men sell not such in any town); 

One heav’d the golden weight 

Of dish and fruit to offer her: 

“Come buy, come buy,” was still their cry. 

Laura stared but did not stir, 

Long’d but had no money: 

The whisk-tail’d merchant bade her taste 

In tones as smooth as honey, 

The cat-faced purr’d, 

The rat-faced spoke a word 

Of welcome, and the snail-paced even was heard; 

One parrot-voiced and jolly 

Cried “Pretty Goblin” still for “Pretty Polly;”— 

One whistled like a bird. 

But sweet-tooth Laura spoke in haste: 

“Good folk, I have no coin; 

To take were to purloin: 

I have no copper in my purse, 

I have no silver either, 

And all my gold is on the furze 

That shakes in windy weather 

Above the rusty heather.” 

“You have much gold upon your head,” 

They answer’d all together: 

“Buy from us with a golden curl.” 

She clipp’d a precious golden lock, 

She dropp’d a tear more rare than pearl, 

Then suck’d their fruit globes fair or red: 

Sweeter than honey from the rock, 

Stronger than man-rejoicing wine, 

Clearer than water flow’d that juice; 

She never tasted such before, 

How should it cloy with length of use? 

She suck’d and suck’d and suck’d the more 

Fruits which that unknown orchard bore; 

She suck’d until her lips were sore; 

Then flung the emptied rinds away 

But gather’d up one kernel stone, 

And knew not was it night or day 

As she turn’d home alone. 

Lizzie met her at the gate 

Full of wise upbraidings: 

“Dear, you should not stay so late, 

Twilight is not good for maidens; 

Should not loiter in the glen 

In the haunts of goblin men. 

Do you not remember Jeanie, 

How she met them in the moonlight, 

Took their gifts both choice and many, 

Ate their fruits and wore their flowers 

Pluck’d from bowers 

Where summer ripens at all hours? 

But ever in the noonlight 

She pined and pined away; 

Sought them by night and day, 

Found them no more, but dwindled and grew grey; 

Then fell with the first snow, 

While to this day no grass will grow 

Where she lies low: 

I planted daisies there a year ago 

That never blow. 

You should not loiter so.” 

“Nay, hush,” said Laura: 

“Nay, hush, my sister: 

I ate and ate my fill, 

Yet my mouth waters still; 

To-morrow night I will 

Buy more;” and kiss’d her: 

“Have done with sorrow; 

I’ll bring you plums to-morrow 

Fresh on their mother twigs, 

Cherries worth getting; 

You cannot think what figs 

My teeth have met in, 

What melons icy-cold 

Piled on a dish of gold 

Too huge for me to hold, 

What peaches with a velvet nap, 

Pellucid grapes without one seed: 

Odorous indeed must be the mead 

Whereon they grow, and pure the wave they drink 

With lilies at the brink, 

And sugar-sweet their sap.” 

Golden head by golden head, 

Like two pigeons in one nest 

Folded in each other’s wings, 

They lay down in their curtain’d bed: 

Like two blossoms on one stem, 

Like two flakes of new-fall’n snow, 

Like two wands of ivory 

Tipp’d with gold for awful kings. 

Moon and stars gaz’d in at them, 

Wind sang to them lullaby, 

Lumbering owls forbore to fly, 

Not a bat flapp’d to and fro 

Round their rest: 

Cheek to cheek and breast to breast 

Lock’d together in one nest. 

Early in the morning 

When the first cock crow’d his warning, 

Neat like bees, as sweet and busy, 

Laura rose with Lizzie: 

Fetch’d in honey, milk’d the cows, 

Air’d and set to rights the house, 

Kneaded cakes of whitest wheat, 

Cakes for dainty mouths to eat, 

Next churn’d butter, whipp’d up cream, 

Fed their poultry, sat and sew’d; 

Talk’d as modest maidens should: 

Lizzie with an open heart, 

Laura in an absent dream, 

One content, one sick in part; 

One warbling for the mere bright day’s delight, 

One longing for the night. 

At length slow evening came: 

They went with pitchers to the reedy brook; 

Lizzie most placid in her look, 

Laura most like a leaping flame. 

They drew the gurgling water from its deep; 

Lizzie pluck’d purple and rich golden flags, 

Then turning homeward said: “The sunset flushes 

Those furthest loftiest crags; 

Come, Laura, not another maiden lags. 

No wilful squirrel wags, 

The beasts and birds are fast asleep.” 

But Laura loiter’d still among the rushes 

And said the bank was steep. 

And said the hour was early still 

The dew not fall’n, the wind not chill; 

Listening ever, but not catching 

The customary cry, 

“Come buy, come buy,” 

With its iterated jingle 

Of sugar-baited words: 

Not for all her watching 

Once discerning even one goblin 

Racing, whisking, tumbling, hobbling; 

Let alone the herds 

That used to tramp along the glen, 

In groups or single, 

Of brisk fruit-merchant men. 

Till Lizzie urged, “O Laura, come; 

I hear the fruit-call but I dare not look: 

You should not loiter longer at this brook: 

Come with me home. 

The stars rise, the moon bends her arc, 

Each glowworm winks her spark, 

Let us get home before the night grows dark: 

For clouds may gather 

Though this is summer weather, 

Put out the lights and drench us through; 

Then if we lost our way what should we do?” 

Laura turn’d cold as stone 

To find her sister heard that cry alone, 

That goblin cry, 

“Come buy our fruits, come buy.” 

Must she then buy no more such dainty fruit? 

Must she no more such succous pasture find, 

Gone deaf and blind? 

Her tree of life droop’d from the root: 

She said not one word in her heart’s sore ache; 

But peering thro’ the dimness, nought discerning, 

Trudg’d home, her pitcher dripping all the way; 

So crept to bed, and lay 

Silent till Lizzie slept; 

Then sat up in a passionate yearning, 

And gnash’d her teeth for baulk’d desire, and wept 

As if her heart would break. 

Day after day, night after night, 

Laura kept watch in vain 

In sullen silence of exceeding pain. 

She never caught again the goblin cry: 

“Come buy, come buy;”— 

She never spied the goblin men 

Hawking their fruits along the glen: 

But when the noon wax’d bright 

Her hair grew thin and grey; 

She dwindled, as the fair full moon doth turn 

To swift decay and burn 

Her fire away. 

One day remembering her kernel-stone 

She set it by a wall that faced the south; 

Dew’d it with tears, hoped for a root, 

Watch’d for a waxing shoot, 

But there came none; 

It never saw the sun, 

It never felt the trickling moisture run: 

While with sunk eyes and faded mouth 

She dream’d of melons, as a traveller sees 

False waves in desert drouth 

With shade of leaf-crown’d trees, 

And burns the thirstier in the sandful breeze. 

She no more swept the house, 

Tended the fowls or cows, 

Fetch’d honey, kneaded cakes of wheat, 

Brought water from the brook: 

But sat down listless in the chimney-nook 

And would not eat. 

Tender Lizzie could not bear 

To watch her sister’s cankerous care 

Yet not to share. 

She night and morning 

Caught the goblins’ cry: 

“Come buy our orchard fruits, 

Come buy, come buy;”— 

Beside the brook, along the glen, 

She heard the tramp of goblin men, 

The yoke and stir 

Poor Laura could not hear; 

Long’d to buy fruit to comfort her, 

But fear’d to pay too dear. 

She thought of Jeanie in her grave, 

Who should have been a bride; 

But who for joys brides hope to have 

Fell sick and died 

In her gay prime, 

In earliest winter time 

With the first glazing rime, 

With the first snow-fall of crisp winter time. 

Till Laura dwindling 

Seem’d knocking at Death’s door: 

Then Lizzie weigh’d no more 

Better and worse; 

But put a silver penny in her purse, 

Kiss’d Laura, cross’d the heath with clumps of furze 

At twilight, halted by the brook: 

And for the first time in her life 

Began to listen and look. 

Laugh’d every goblin 

When they spied her peeping: 

Came towards her hobbling, 

Flying, running, leaping, 

Puffing and blowing, 

Chuckling, clapping, crowing, 

Clucking and gobbling, 

Mopping and mowing, 

Full of airs and graces, 

Pulling wry faces, 

Demure grimaces, 

Cat-like and rat-like, 

Ratel- and wombat-like, 

Snail-paced in a hurry, 

Parrot-voiced and whistler, 

Helter skelter, hurry skurry, 

Chattering like magpies, 

Fluttering like pigeons, 

Gliding like fishes,— 

Hugg’d her and kiss’d her: 

Squeez’d and caress’d her: 

Stretch’d up their dishes, 

Panniers, and plates: 

“Look at our apples 

Russet and dun, 

Bob at our cherries, 

Bite at our peaches, 

Citrons and dates, 

Grapes for the asking, 

Pears red with basking 

Out in the sun, 

Plums on their twigs; 

Pluck them and suck them, 

Pomegranates, figs.”— 

“Good folk,” said Lizzie, 

Mindful of Jeanie: 

“Give me much and many: — 

Held out her apron, 

Toss’d them her penny. 

“Nay, take a seat with us, 

Honour and eat with us,” 

They answer’d grinning: 

“Our feast is but beginning. 

Night yet is early, 

Warm and dew-pearly, 

Wakeful and starry: 

Such fruits as these 

No man can carry: 

Half their bloom would fly, 

Half their dew would dry, 

Half their flavour would pass by. 

Sit down and feast with us, 

Be welcome guest with us, 

Cheer you and rest with us.”— 

“Thank you,” said Lizzie: “But one waits 

At home alone for me: 

So without further parleying, 

If you will not sell me any 

Of your fruits though much and many, 

Give me back my silver penny 

I toss’d you for a fee.”— 

They began to scratch their pates, 

No longer wagging, purring, 

But visibly demurring, 

Grunting and snarling. 

One call’d her proud, 

Cross-grain’d, uncivil; 

Their tones wax’d loud, 

Their looks were evil. 

Lashing their tails 

They trod and hustled her, 

Elbow’d and jostled her, 

Claw’d with their nails, 

Barking, mewing, hissing, mocking, 

Tore her gown and soil’d her stocking, 

Twitch’d her hair out by the roots, 

Stamp’d upon her tender feet, 

Held her hands and squeez’d their fruits 

Against her mouth to make her eat. 

White and golden Lizzie stood, 

Like a lily in a flood,— 

Like a rock of blue-vein’d stone 

Lash’d by tides obstreperously,— 

Like a beacon left alone 

In a hoary roaring sea, 

Sending up a golden fire,— 

Like a fruit-crown’d orange-tree 

White with blossoms honey-sweet 

Sore beset by wasp and bee,— 

Like a royal virgin town 

Topp’d with gilded dome and spire 

Close beleaguer’d by a fleet 

Mad to tug her standard down. 

One may lead a horse to water, 

Twenty cannot make him drink. 

Though the goblins cuff’d and caught her, 

Coax’d and fought her, 

Bullied and besought her, 

Scratch’d her, pinch’d her black as ink, 

Kick’d and knock’d her, 

Maul’d and mock’d her, 

Lizzie utter’d not a word; 

Would not open lip from lip 

Lest they should cram a mouthful in: 

But laugh’d in heart to feel the drip 

Of juice that syrupp’d all her face, 

And lodg’d in dimples of her chin, 

And streak’d her neck which quaked like curd. 

At last the evil people, 

Worn out by her resistance, 

Flung back her penny, kick’d their fruit 

Along whichever road they took, 

Not leaving root or stone or shoot; 

Some writh’d into the ground, 

Some div’d into the brook 

With ring and ripple, 

Some scudded on the gale without a sound, 

Some vanish’d in the distance. 

In a smart, ache, tingle, 

Lizzie went her way; 

Knew not was it night or day; 

Sprang up the bank, tore thro’ the furze, 

Threaded copse and dingle, 

And heard her penny jingle 

Bouncing in her purse,— 

Its bounce was music to her ear. 

She ran and ran 

As if she fear’d some goblin man 

Dogg’d her with gibe or curse 

Or something worse: 

But not one goblin scurried after, 

Nor was she prick’d by fear; 

The kind heart made her windy-paced 

That urged her home quite out of breath with haste 

And inward laughter. 

She cried, “Laura,” up the garden, 

“Did you miss me? 

Come and kiss me. 

Never mind my bruises, 

Hug me, kiss me, suck my juices 

Squeez’d from goblin fruits for you, 

Goblin pulp and goblin dew. 

Eat me, drink me, love me; 

Laura, make much of me; 

For your sake I have braved the glen 

And had to do with goblin merchant men.” 

Laura started from her chair, 

Flung her arms up in the air, 

Clutch’d her hair: 

“Lizzie, Lizzie, have you tasted 

For my sake the fruit forbidden? 

Must your light like mine be hidden, 

Your young life like mine be wasted, 

Undone in mine undoing, 

And ruin’d in my ruin, 

Thirsty, canker’d, goblin-ridden?”— 

She clung about her sister, 

Kiss’d and kiss’d and kiss’d her: 

Tears once again 

Refresh’d her shrunken eyes, 

Dropping like rain 

After long sultry drouth; 

Shaking with aguish fear, and pain, 

She kiss’d and kiss’d her with a hungry mouth. 

Her lips began to scorch, 

That juice was wormwood to her tongue, 

She loath’d the feast: 

Writhing as one possess’d she leap’d and sung, 

Rent all her robe, and wrung 

Her hands in lamentable haste, 

And beat her breast. 

Her locks stream’d like the torch 

Borne by a racer at full speed, 

Or like the mane of horses in their flight, 

Or like an eagle when she stems the light 

Straight toward the sun, 

Or like a caged thing freed, 

Or like a flying flag when armies run. 

Swift fire spread through her veins, knock’d at her heart, 

Met the fire smouldering there 

And overbore its lesser flame; 

She gorged on bitterness without a name: 

Ah! fool, to choose such part 

Of soul-consuming care! 

Sense fail’d in the mortal strife: 

Like the watch-tower of a town 

Which an earthquake shatters down, 

Like a lightning-stricken mast, 

Like a wind-uprooted tree 

Spun about, 

Like a foam-topp’d waterspout 

Cast down headlong in the sea, 

She fell at last; 

Pleasure past and anguish past, 

Is it death or is it life? 

Life out of death. 

That night long Lizzie watch’d by her, 

Counted her pulse’s flagging stir, 

Felt for her breath, 

Held water to her lips, and cool’d her face 

With tears and fanning leaves: 

But when the first birds chirp’d about their eaves, 

And early reapers plodded to the place 

Of golden sheaves, 

And dew-wet grass 

Bow’d in the morning winds so brisk to pass, 

And new buds with new day 

Open’d of cup-like lilies on the stream, 

Laura awoke as from a dream, 

Laugh’d in the innocent old way, 

Hugg’d Lizzie but not twice or thrice; 

Her gleaming locks show’d not one thread of grey, 

Her breath was sweet as May 

And light danced in her eyes. 

Days, weeks, months, years 

Afterwards, when both were wives 

With children of their own; 

Their mother-hearts beset with fears, 

Their lives bound up in tender lives; 

Laura would call the little ones 

And tell them of her early prime, 

Those pleasant days long gone 

Of not-returning time: 

Would talk about the haunted glen, 

The wicked, quaint fruit-merchant men, 

Their fruits like honey to the throat 

But poison in the blood; 

(Men sell not such in any town): 

Would tell them how her sister stood 

In deadly peril to do her good, 

And win the fiery antidote: 

Then joining hands to little hands 

Would bid them cling together, 

“For there is no friend like a sister 

In calm or stormy weather; 

To cheer one on the tedious way, 

To fetch one if one goes astray, 

To lift one if one totters down, 

To strengthen whilst one stands.”

Making U⚡S, Better

“Imagine a Distant Planet 

In a Far-off Star System

Light-Years from Here

We've never seen Them 

in Our Telescopes,

We know nothing 

about Them,

but They Look 

a BIT Like Us....

A Star that's in 

The Last Days 

of it's Life, 

and imagine that 

Their Planet is under 

Threat of Destruction —

And Those 

Fantastic Scientists 

decide that there's 

only one thing 

that they can do, 

and that's to send 

A Child —

Out into Space —

Who might carry,

The Physical Attributes and Mental Attributes

that These People have 

engendered over 

The Centuries —

And imagine then, that

This Child, coming to Earth, 

suddenly is gifted 

with Powers that come 

from that Great Society 

that gave birth to him  --

and he not only 

brings Great Powers 

with him, but he brings 

A Morality with him --

Imagine what he could do 

to Our World 

and Our Planet,

with the AIM of 

Making U⚡S, Better..."

Brave New World

Brave New World (1956) - Aldous Huxley as Narrator

ACT V

SCENE I. Before PROSPERO'S cell.

Enter PROSPERO in his magic robes, and ARIEL

PROSPERO

Now does my project gather to a head:

My charms crack not; my spirits obey; and time

Goes upright with his carriage. How's the day?

ARIEL

On the sixth hour; at which time, my lord,

You said our work should cease.

PROSPERO

I did say so,

When first I raised The Tempest. Say, my spirit,

How fares the king and's followers?

ARIEL

Confined together

In the same fashion as you gave in charge,

Just as you left them; all prisoners, sir,

In the line-grove which weather-fends your cell;

They cannot budge till your release. The king,

His brother and yours, abide all three distracted

And the remainder mourning over them,

Brimful of sorrow and dismay; but chiefly

Him that you term'd, sir, 'The good old lord Gonzalo;'

His tears run down his beard, like winter's drops

From eaves of reeds. Your charm so strongly works 'em

That if you now beheld them, your affections

Would become tender.

PROSPERO

Dost thou think so, spirit?

ARIEL

Mine would, sir, were I human.

PROSPERO

And mine shall.

Hast thou, which art but air, a touch, a feeling

Of their afflictions, and shall not myself,

One of their kind, that relish all as sharply,

Passion as they, be kindlier moved than thou art?

Though with their high wrongs I am struck to the quick,

Yet with my nobler reason 'gaitist my fury

Do I take part: the rarer action is

In virtue than in vengeance: they being penitent,

The sole drift of my purpose doth extend

Not a frown further. Go release them, Ariel:

My charms I'll break, their senses I'll restore,

And they shall be themselves.

ARIEL

I'll fetch them, sir.

Exit

PROSPERO

Ye elves of hills, brooks, standing lakes and groves,

And ye that on the sands with printless foot

Do chase the ebbing Neptune and do fly him

When he comes back; you demi-puppets that

By moonshine do the green sour ringlets make,

Whereof the ewe not bites, and you whose pastime

Is to make midnight mushrooms, that rejoice

To hear the solemn curfew; by whose aid,

Weak masters though ye be, I have bedimm'd

The noontide sun, call'd forth the mutinous winds,

And 'twixt the green sea and the azured vault

Set roaring war: to the dread rattling thunder

Have I given fire and rifted Jove's stout oak

With his own bolt; the strong-based promontory

Have I made shake and by the spurs pluck'd up

The pine and cedar: graves at my command

Have waked their sleepers, oped, and let 'em forth

By my so potent art. But this rough magic

I here abjure, and, when I have required

Some heavenly music, which even now I do,

To work mine end upon their senses that

This airy charm is for, I'll break my staff,

Bury it certain fathoms in the earth,

And deeper than did ever plummet sound

I'll drown my book.

Solemn music

Re-enter ARIEL before: then ALONSO, with a frantic gesture, attended by GONZALO; SEBASTIAN and ANTONIO in like manner, attended by ADRIAN and FRANCISCO they all enter the circle which PROSPERO had made, and there stand charmed; which PROSPERO observing, speaks:

A solemn air and the best comforter

To an unsettled fancy cure thy brains,

Now useless, boil'd within thy skull! There stand,

For you are spell-stopp'd.

Holy Gonzalo, honourable man,

Mine eyes, even sociable to the show of thine,

Fall fellowly drops. The charm dissolves apace,

And as the morning steals upon the night,

Melting the darkness, so their rising senses

Begin to chase the ignorant fumes that mantle

Their clearer reason. O good Gonzalo,

My true preserver, and a loyal sir

To him you follow'st! I will pay thy graces

Home both in word and deed. Most cruelly

Didst thou, Alonso, use me and my daughter:

Thy brother was a furtherer in the act.

Thou art pinch'd fort now, Sebastian. Flesh and blood,

You, brother mine, that entertain'd ambition,

Expell'd remorse and nature; who, with Sebastian,

Whose inward pinches therefore are most strong,

Would here have kill'd your king; I do forgive thee,

Unnatural though thou art. Their understanding

Begins to swell, and the approaching tide

Will shortly fill the reasonable shore

That now lies foul and muddy. Not one of them

That yet looks on me, or would know me Ariel,

Fetch me the hat and rapier in my cell:

I will discase me, and myself present

As I was sometime Milan: quickly, spirit;

Thou shalt ere long be free.

ARIEL sings and helps to attire him

Where the bee sucks. there suck I:

In a cowslip's bell I lie;

There I couch when owls do cry.

On the bat's back I do fly

After summer merrily.

Merrily, merrily shall I live now

Under the blossom that hangs on the bough.

PROSPERO

Why, that's my dainty Ariel! I shall miss thee:

But yet thou shalt have freedom: so, so, so.

To the king's ship, invisible as thou art:

There shalt thou find the mariners asleep

Under the hatches; the master and the boatswain

Being awake, enforce them to this place,

And presently, I prithee.

ARIEL

I drink the air before me, and return

Or ere your pulse twice beat.

Exit

GONZALO

All torment, trouble, wonder and amazement

Inhabits here: some heavenly power guide us

Out of this fearful country!

PROSPERO

Behold, sir king,

The wronged Duke of Milan, Prospero:

For more assurance that a living prince

Does now speak to thee, I embrace thy body;

And to thee and thy company I bid

A hearty welcome.

ALONSO

Whether thou best he or no,

Or some enchanted trifle to abuse me,

As late I have been, I not know: thy pulse

Beats as of flesh and blood; and, since I saw thee,

The affliction of my mind amends, with which,

I fear, a madness held me: this must crave,

An if this be at all, a most strange story.

Thy dukedom I resign and do entreat

Thou pardon me my wrongs. But how should Prospero

Be living and be here?

PROSPERO

First, noble friend,

Let me embrace thine age, whose honour cannot

Be measured or confined.

GONZALO

Whether this be

Or be not, I'll not swear.

PROSPERO

You do yet taste

Some subtilties o' the isle, that will not let you

Believe things certain. Welcome, my friends all!

Aside to SEBASTIAN and ANTONIO

But you, my brace of lords, were I so minded,

I here could pluck his highness' frown upon you

And justify you traitors: at this time

I will tell no tales.

SEBASTIAN

[Aside] The devil speaks in him.

PROSPERO

No.

For you, most wicked sir, whom to call brother

Would even infect my mouth, I do forgive

Thy rankest fault; all of them; and require

My dukedom of thee, which perforce, I know,

Thou must restore.

ALONSO

If thou be'st Prospero,

Give us particulars of thy preservation;

How thou hast met us here, who three hours since

Were wreck'd upon this shore; where I have lost--

How sharp the point of this remembrance is!--

My dear son Ferdinand.

PROSPERO

I am woe for't, sir.

ALONSO

Irreparable is the loss, and patience

Says it is past her cure.

PROSPERO

I rather think

You have not sought her help, of whose soft grace

For the like loss I have her sovereign aid

And rest myself content.

ALONSO

You the like loss!

PROSPERO

As great to me as late; and, supportable

To make the dear loss, have I means much weaker

Than you may call to comfort you, for I

Have lost my daughter.

ALONSO

A daughter?

O heavens, that they were living both in Naples,

The king and queen there! that they were, I wish

Myself were mudded in that oozy bed

Where my son lies. When did you lose your daughter?

PROSPERO

In this last tempest. I perceive these lords

At this encounter do so much admire

That they devour their reason and scarce think

Their eyes do offices of truth, their words

Are natural breath: but, howsoe'er you have

Been justled from your senses, know for certain

That I am Prospero and that very duke

Which was thrust forth of Milan, who most strangely

Upon this shore, where you were wreck'd, was landed,

To be the lord on't. No more yet of this;

For 'tis a chronicle of day by day,

Not a relation for a breakfast nor

Befitting this first meeting. Welcome, sir;

This cell's my court: here have I few attendants

And subjects none abroad: pray you, look in.

My dukedom since you have given me again,

I will requite you with as good a thing;

At least bring forth a wonder, to content ye

As much as me my dukedom.

Here PROSPERO discovers FERDINAND and MIRANDA playing at chess

MIRANDA

Sweet lord, you play me false.

FERDINAND

No, my dear'st love,

I would not for the world.

MIRANDA

Yes, for a score of kingdoms you should wrangle,

And I would call it, fair play.

ALONSO

If this prove

A vision of the Island, one dear son

Shall I twice lose.

SEBASTIAN

A most high miracle!

FERDINAND

Though the seas threaten, they are merciful;

I have cursed them without cause.

Kneels

ALONSO

Now all the blessings

Of a glad father compass thee about!

Arise, and say how thou camest here.

MIRANDA

O, wonder!

How many goodly creatures are there here!

How beauteous mankind is! O brave new world,

That has such people in't!

PROSPERO

'Tis new to thee.

ALONSO

What is this maid with whom thou wast at play?

Your eld'st acquaintance cannot be three hours:

Is she the goddess that hath sever'd us,

And brought us thus together?

FERDINAND

Sir, she is mortal;

But by immortal Providence she's mine:

I chose her when I could not ask my father

For his advice, nor thought I had one. She

Is daughter to this famous Duke of Milan,

Of whom so often I have heard renown,

But never saw before; of whom I have

Received a second life; and second father

This lady makes him to me.

ALONSO

I am hers:

But, O, how oddly will it sound that I

Must ask my child forgiveness!

PROSPERO

There, sir, stop:

Let us not burthen our remembrance with

A heaviness that's gone.

GONZALO

I have inly wept,

Or should have spoke ere this. Look down, you god,

And on this couple drop a blessed crown!

For it is you that have chalk'd forth the way

Which brought us hither.

ALONSO

I say, Amen, Gonzalo!

GONZALO

Was Milan thrust from Milan, that his issue

Should become kings of Naples? O, rejoice

Beyond a common joy, and set it down

With gold on lasting pillars: In one voyage

Did Claribel her husband find at Tunis,

And Ferdinand, her brother, found a wife

Where he himself was lost, Prospero his dukedom

In a poor isle and all of us ourselves

When no man was his own.

ALONSO

[To FERDINAND and MIRANDA] Give me your hands:

Let grief and sorrow still embrace his heart

That doth not wish you joy!

GONZALO

Be it so! Amen!

Re-enter ARIEL, with the Master and Boatswain amazedly following

O, look, sir, look, sir! here is more of us:

I prophesied, if a gallows were on land,

This fellow could not drown. Now, blasphemy,

That swear'st grace o'erboard, not an oath on shore?

Hast thou no mouth by land? What is the news?

Boatswain

The best news is, that we have safely found

Our king and company; the next, our ship--

Which, but three glasses since, we gave out split--

Is tight and yare and bravely rigg'd as when

We first put out to sea.

ARIEL

[Aside to PROSPERO] Sir, all this service

Have I done since I went.

PROSPERO

[Aside to ARIEL] My tricksy spirit!

ALONSO

These are not natural events; they strengthen

From strange to stranger. Say, how came you hither?

Boatswain

If I did think, sir, I were well awake,

I'ld strive to tell you. We were dead of sleep,

And--how we know not--all clapp'd under hatches;

Where but even now with strange and several noises

Of roaring, shrieking, howling, jingling chains,

And more diversity of sounds, all horrible,

We were awaked; straightway, at liberty;

Where we, in all her trim, freshly beheld

Our royal, good and gallant ship, our master

Capering 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 'em?

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 mis-shapen 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!

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 'em?

How camest 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'ld be king o' the isle, sirrah?

STEPHANO

I should have been a sore one then.

ALONSO

This is a strange thing as e'er I look'd on.

Pointing to Caliban

PROSPERO

He is as disproportion'd 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-beloved 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 confined by you,

Or sent to Naples. Let me not,

Since I have my dukedom got

And pardon'd the deceiver, dwell

In this bare island by your spell;

But release me from my bands

With the help of your good hands:

Gentle breath of yours my sails

Must fill, or else my project fails,

Which was to please. Now I want

Spirits to enforce, art to enchant,

And my ending is despair,

Unless I be relieved by prayer,

Which pierces so that it assaults

Mercy itself and frees all faults.

As you from crimes would pardon'd be,

Let your indulgence set me free.