"My sighs, like whirlwinds, labour hence to heave thee:
If ever man were moved with woman moans,
Be moved with my tears, my sighs, my groans:
'All which together, like a troubled ocean,
Beat at thy rocky and wreck-threatening heart,
To soften it with their continual motion;"
Will I Am Shakes Spear
The Rape Of Lucrece
" All hurricanes are not "him," they’re "her," and they start in West Africa, where the slaves were put on the ship.
It will hit this country and go all the way up the East Coast until it gets to Maine.
Remember, Canada literally is right across the street from Maine.
Canada has never had a hurricane because Canada has never treated the Black woman the way America has. "
... But don't quote me on that."
Andred
Spooky Electric
It's Alpha's and Omega's Kingdom Come.
And The Whirlwind is in the thorn tree....
The virgins are all trimming their wicks...
The Whirlwind is in the thorn tree...
It's hard for thee to kick against the pricks.
In measured hundredweight and penny pound.
When The Man comes around.
And I heard a voice in the midst of the four beasts,
And I looked and behold: a pale horse.
And her name, that sat on her, was Death.
And Hell followed with her....
Queen Elizabeth I:
Go back to your rathole! Tell Philip I fear neither him, nor his priests, nor his armies.
Tell him if he wants to shake his little fist at us, we're ready to give him such a bite he'll wish he'd kept his hands in his pockets!
Don Guerau De Spes:
You see a leaf fall, and you think you know which way the wind blows.
Well, there is a wind coming, Madame, that will sweep away your pride.
[turns to leave with his ministers]
Queen Elizabeth I:
I, too, can command the wind, sir!
I have a hurricane in me that will strip Spain bare if you dare to try me!
TO THE
RIGHT HONORABLE HENRY WRIOTHESLY,
Earl of Southampton, and Baron of Tichfield.
The love I dedicate to your lordship is without end; whereof this pamphlet, without beginning, is but a superfluous moiety. The warrant I have of your honourable disposition, not the worth of my untutored lines, makes it assured of acceptance. What I have done is yours; what I have to do is yours; being part in all I have, devoted yours. Were my worth greater, my duty would show greater; meantime, as it is, it is bound to your lordship, to whom I wish long life, still lengthened with all happiness.
Your lordship's in all duty,
WILLIAM SHAKE-SPEARE.
The Rape of Lucrece
'My husband is thy friend; for his sake spare me:
Thyself art mighty; for thine own sake leave me:
Myself a weakling; do not then ensnare me:
Thou look'st not like deceit; do not deceive me.
My sighs, like whirlwinds, labour hence to heave thee:
If ever man were moved with woman moans,
Be moved with my tears, my sighs, my groans:
'All which together, like a troubled ocean,
Beat at thy rocky and wreck-threatening heart,
To soften it with their continual motion;
For stones dissolved to water do convert.
O, if no harder than a stone thou art,
Melt at my tears, and be compassionate!
Soft pity enters at an iron gate.
Queen Elizabeth I:
Please, just give me hope.
Dr. John Dee:
The forces that shape our world are greater than all of us, Majesty. How can I promise that they'll conspire in your favor even though you are the Queen?
But this much I know.
When the storm breaks, each man acts in accordance with his own nature.
Some are dumb with terror. Some flee. Some hide. And some spread their wings like eagles and soar on the wind.
Queen Elizabeth I:
You are a wise man, Dr. Dee.
Dr. John Dee:
And you, Madame, are a very great lady.
FCN:
What has been the response of Black women to the book?
DG:
They’ve cried.
There (are not many) books ... where the Black woman comes out without negativity. It’s interesting that on a hillbilly record the singer never says anything derogatory about his woman.
But the most derogatory things that are said about Black women are said by Black men. Imagine if we were white folks in Australia and we’d never seen a Black woman.
All we’ve ever heard is Black men singing about them, so when you walk over there with seven doctorate degrees or as the president of a college, I (white people) see y’all as whores, just as what your man said you are.
If I heard a Jewish dude saying derogatory things about Jewish women, I wouldn’t assume he’s lying on them, especially if the Jewish women weren’t protesting it, but were at a party dancing to it.
But the most derogatory things that are said about Black women are said by Black men. Imagine if we were white folks in Australia and we’d never seen a Black woman.
All we’ve ever heard is Black men singing about them, so when you walk over there with seven doctorate degrees or as the president of a college, I (white people) see y’all as whores, just as what your man said you are.
If I heard a Jewish dude saying derogatory things about Jewish women, I wouldn’t assume he’s lying on them, especially if the Jewish women weren’t protesting it, but were at a party dancing to it.
We also talked about the power of the Black woman’s spirit and the hurricanes.
All hurricanes are not "him," they’re "her," and they start in West Africa, where the slaves were put on the ship.
They stay on the ground and follow the path that the slave ships followed.
No slave was ever offloaded from ships until it got to the Caribbean.
No hurricane ever jumps off water until it gets to the Caribbean.
It will hit this country and go all the way up the East Coast until it gets to Maine.
Remember, Canada literally is right across the street from Maine.
Canada has never had a hurricane because Canada has never treated the Black woman the way America has.
Again, the response has been great. We’re all out of the first printing. There are no more books in the warehouse.
3
“The Catholic Church did not make up the word ‘booty.’ The word ‘booty’ came from pirates. The loot that they take is called ‘the booty.’ Let’s go get some booty. The Black man is the only one who calls his woman ‘The booty.’ Because we are pirates and she ain’t never been free. We the only man in the world that refers to our women, ‘She’s a strong sister.’ But call our car beautiful…”
“The Catholic Church did not make up the word ‘booty.’ The word ‘booty’ came from pirates. The loot that they take is called ‘the booty.’ Let’s go get some booty. The Black man is the only one who calls his woman ‘The booty.’ Because we are pirates and she ain’t never been free. We the only man in the world that refers to our women, ‘She’s a strong sister.’ But call our car beautiful…”
The Suicide of Lucretia,
by Jörg Breu the Elder
SCENE II. The island. Before PROSPERO'S cell.
Enter PROSPERO and MIRANDA
MIRANDA
If by your art, my dearest father, you have
Put the wild waters in this roar, allay them.The sky, it seems, would pour down stinking pitch,But that the sea, mounting to the welkin's cheek,Dashes the fire out. O, I have sufferedWith those that I saw suffer: a brave vessel,Who had, no doubt, some noble creature in her,Dash'd all to pieces. O, the cry did knockAgainst my very heart. Poor souls, they perish'd.Had I been any god of power, I wouldHave sunk the sea within the earth or ereIt should the good ship so have swallow'd andThe fraughting souls within her.
PROSPERO
Be collected:
No more amazement: tell your piteous heartThere's no harm done.
MIRANDA
O, woe the day!
PROSPERO
No harm.
I have done nothing but in care of thee,Of thee, my dear one, thee, my daughter, whoArt ignorant of what thou art, nought knowingOf whence I am, nor that I am more betterThan Prospero, master of a full poor cell,And thy no greater father.
MIRANDA
More to know
Did never meddle with my thoughts.
PROSPERO
'Tis time
I should inform thee farther. Lend thy hand,And pluck my magic garment from me. So:
Lays down his mantle
Lie there, my art. Wipe thou thine eyes; have comfort.
The direful spectacle of the wreck, which touch'd
The very virtue of compassion in thee,I have with such provision in mine artSo safely ordered that there is no soul--No, not so much perdition as an hairBetid to any creature in the vesselWhich thou heard'st cry, which thou saw'st sink. Sit down;For thou must now know farther.
MIRANDA
You have often
Begun to tell me what I am, but stopp'dAnd left me to a bootless inquisition,Concluding 'Stay: not yet.'
PROSPERO
The hour's now come;
The very minute bids thee ope thine ear;Obey and be attentive. Canst thou rememberA time before we came unto this cell?I do not think thou canst, for then thou wast notOut three years old.
MIRANDA
Certainly, sir, I can.
PROSPERO
By what? by any other house or person?
Of any thing the image tell me thatHath kept with thy remembrance.
MIRANDA
'Tis far off
And rather like a dream than an assuranceThat my remembrance warrants. Had I notFour or five women once that tended me?
PROSPERO
Thou hadst, and more, Miranda. But how is it
That this lives in thy mind? What seest thou elseIn the dark backward and abysm of time?If thou remember'st aught ere thou camest here,How thou camest here thou mayst.
MIRANDA
But that I do not.
PROSPERO
Twelve year since, Miranda, twelve year since,
Thy father was the Duke of Milan andA prince of power.
MIRANDA
Sir, are not you my father?
PROSPERO
Thy mother was a piece of virtue, and
She said thou wast my daughter; and thy fatherWas Duke of Milan; and thou his only heirAnd princess no worse issued.
MIRANDA
O the heavens!
What foul play had we, that we came from thence?Or blessed was't we did?
PROSPERO
Both, both, my girl:
By foul play, as thou say'st, were we heaved thence,But blessedly holp hither.
MIRANDA
O, my heart bleeds
To think o' the teen that I have turn'd you to,Which is from my remembrance! Please you, farther.
PROSPERO
My brother and thy uncle, call'd Antonio--
I pray thee, mark me--that a brother shouldBe so perfidious!--he whom next thyselfOf all the world I loved and to him putThe manage of my state; as at that timeThrough all the signories it was the firstAnd Prospero the prime duke, being so reputedIn dignity, and for the liberal artsWithout a parallel; those being all my study,The government I cast upon my brotherAnd to my state grew stranger, being transportedAnd rapt in secret studies. Thy false uncle--Dost thou attend me?
MIRANDA
Sir, most heedfully.
PROSPERO
Being once perfected how to grant suits,
How to deny them, who to advance and whoTo trash for over-topping, new createdThe creatures that were mine, I say, or changed 'em,Or else new form'd 'em; having both the keyOf officer and office, set all hearts i' the stateTo what tune pleased his ear; that now he wasThe ivy which had hid my princely trunk,And suck'd my verdure out on't. Thou attend'st not.
MIRANDA
O, good sir, I do.
PROSPERO
I pray thee, mark me.
I, thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicatedTo closeness and the bettering of my mindWith that which, but by being so retired,O'er-prized all popular rate, in my false brotherAwaked an evil nature; and my trust,Like a good parent, did beget of himA falsehood in its contrary as greatAs my trust was; which had indeed no limit,A confidence sans bound. He being thus lorded,Not only with what my revenue yielded,But what my power might else exact, like oneWho having into truth, by telling of it,Made such a sinner of his memory,To credit his own lie, he did believeHe was indeed the duke; out o' the substitutionAnd executing the outward face of royalty,With all prerogative: hence his ambition growing--Dost thou hear?
MIRANDA
Your tale, sir, would cure deafness.
PROSPERO
To have no screen between this part he play'd
And him he play'd it for, he needs will beAbsolute Milan. Me, poor man, my libraryWas dukedom large enough: of temporal royaltiesHe thinks me now incapable; confederates--So dry he was for sway--wi' the King of NaplesTo give him annual tribute, do him homage,Subject his coronet to his crown and bendThe dukedom yet unbow'd--alas, poor Milan!--To most ignoble stooping.
MIRANDA
O the heavens!
PROSPERO
Mark his condition and the event; then tell me
If this might be a brother.
MIRANDA
I should sin
To think but nobly of my grandmother:Good wombs have borne bad sons.
PROSPERO
Now the condition.
The King of Naples, being an enemyTo me inveterate, hearkens my brother's suit;Which was, that he, in lieu o' the premisesOf homage and I know not how much tribute,Should presently extirpate me and mineOut of the dukedom and confer fair MilanWith all the honours on my brother: whereon,A treacherous army levied, one midnightFated to the purpose did Antonio openThe gates of Milan, and, i' the dead of darkness,The ministers for the purpose hurried thenceMe and thy crying self.
MIRANDA
Alack, for pity!
I, not remembering how I cried out then,Will cry it o'er again: it is a hintThat wrings mine eyes to't.
PROSPERO
Hear a little further
And then I'll bring thee to the present businessWhich now's upon's; without the which this storyWere most impertinent.
MIRANDA
Wherefore did they not
That hour destroy us?
PROSPERO
Well demanded, wench:
My tale provokes that question. Dear, they durst not,So dear the love my people bore me, nor setA mark so bloody on the business, butWith colours fairer painted their foul ends.In few, they hurried us aboard a bark,Bore us some leagues to sea; where they preparedA rotten carcass of a boat, not rigg'd,Nor tackle, sail, nor mast; the very ratsInstinctively had quit it: there they hoist us,To cry to the sea that roar'd to us, to sighTo the winds whose pity, sighing back again,Did us but loving wrong.
MIRANDA
Alack, what trouble
Was I then to you!
PROSPERO
O, a cherubim
Thou wast that did preserve me. Thou didst smile.Infused with a fortitude from heaven,When I have deck'd the sea with drops full salt,Under my burthen groan'd; which raised in meAn undergoing stomach, to bear upAgainst what should ensue.
MIRANDA
How came we ashore?
PROSPERO
By Providence divine.
Some food we had and some fresh water thatA noble Neapolitan, Gonzalo,Out of his charity, being then appointedMaster of this design, did give us, withRich garments, linens, stuffs and necessaries,Which since have steaded much; so, of his gentleness,Knowing I loved my books, he furnish'd meFrom mine own library with volumes thatI prize above my dukedom.
MIRANDA
Would I might
But ever see that man!
PROSPERO
Now I arise:Resumes his mantleSit still, and hear the last of our sea-sorrow.
Here in this island we arrived; and hereHave I, thy schoolmaster, made thee more profitThan other princesses can that have more timeFor vainer hours and tutors not so careful.
MIRANDA
Heavens thank you for't! And now, I pray you, sir,
For still 'tis beating in my mind, your reasonFor raising this sea-storm?
PROSPERO
Know thus far forth.
By accident most strange, bountiful Fortune,Now my dear lady, hath mine enemiesBrought to this shore; and by my prescienceI find my zenith doth depend uponA most auspicious star, whose influenceIf now I court not but omit, my fortunesWill ever after droop. Here cease more questions:Thou art inclined to sleep; 'tis a good dulness,And give it way: I know thou canst not choose.MIRANDA sleeps
Come away, servant, come. I am ready now.
Approach, my Ariel, come.Enter ARIEL
ARIEL
All hail, great master! grave sir, hail! I come
To answer thy best pleasure; be't to fly,To swim, to dive into the fire, to rideOn the curl'd clouds, to thy strong bidding taskAriel and all his quality.
PROSPERO
Hast thou, spirit,
Perform'd to point the tempest that I bade thee?
ARIEL
To every article.
I boarded the king's ship; now on the beak,Now in the waist, the deck, in every cabin,I flamed amazement: sometime I'ld divide,And burn in many places; on the topmast,The yards and bowsprit, would I flame distinctly,Then meet and join. Jove's lightnings, the precursorsO' the dreadful thunder-claps, more momentaryAnd sight-outrunning were not; the fire and cracksOf sulphurous roaring the most mighty NeptuneSeem to besiege and make his bold waves tremble,Yea, his dread trident shake.
PROSPERO
My brave spirit!
Who was so firm, so constant, that this coilWould not infect his reason?
ARIEL
Not a soul
But felt a fever of the mad and play'dSome tricks of desperation. All but marinersPlunged in the foaming brine and quit the vessel,Then all afire with me: the king's son, Ferdinand,With hair up-staring,--then like reeds, not hair,--Was the first man that leap'd; cried, 'Hell is emptyAnd all the devils are here.'
PROSPERO
Why that's my spirit!
But was not this nigh shore?
ARIEL
Close by, my master.
PROSPERO
But are they, Ariel, safe?
ARIEL
Not a hair perish'd;
On their sustaining garments not a blemish,But fresher than before: and, as thou badest me,In troops I have dispersed them 'bout the isle.The king's son have I landed by himself;Whom I left cooling of the air with sighsIn an odd angle of the isle and sitting,His arms in this sad knot.
PROSPERO
Of the king's ship
The mariners say how thou hast disposedAnd all the rest o' the fleet.
ARIEL
Safely in harbour
Is the king's ship; in the deep nook, where onceThou call'dst me up at midnight to fetch dewFrom the still-vex'd Bermoothes, there she's hid:The mariners all under hatches stow'd;Who, with a charm join'd to their suffer'd labour,I have left asleep; and for the rest o' the fleetWhich I dispersed, they all have met againAnd are upon the Mediterranean flote,Bound sadly home for Naples,Supposing that they saw the king's ship wreck'dAnd his great person perish.
PROSPERO
Ariel, thy charge
Exactly is perform'd: but there's more work.What is the time o' the day?
ARIEL
Past the mid season.
PROSPERO
At least two glasses. The time 'twixt six and now
Must by us both be spent most preciously.
ARIEL
Is there more toil? Since thou dost give me pains,
Let me remember thee what thou hast promised,Which is not yet perform'd me.
PROSPERO
How now? moody?
What is't thou canst demand?
ARIEL
My liberty.
PROSPERO
Before the time be out? no more!
ARIEL
I prithee,
Remember I have done thee worthy service;Told thee no lies, made thee no mistakings, servedWithout or grudge or grumblings: thou didst promiseTo bate me a full year.
PROSPERO
Dost thou forget
From what a torment I did free thee?
ARIEL
No.
PROSPERO
Thou dost, and think'st it much to tread the ooze
Of the salt deep,To run upon the sharp wind of the north,To do me business in the veins o' the earthWhen it is baked with frost.
ARIEL
I do not, sir.
PROSPERO
Thou liest, malignant thing! Hast thou forgot
The foul witch Sycorax, who with age and envyWas grown into a hoop? hast thou forgot her?
ARIEL
No, sir.
PROSPERO
Thou hast. Where was she born? speak; tell me.
ARIEL
Sir, in Argier.
PROSPERO
O, was she so? I must
Once in a month recount what thou hast been,Which thou forget'st. This damn'd witch Sycorax,For mischiefs manifold and sorceries terribleTo enter human hearing, from Argier,Thou know'st, was banish'd: for one thing she didThey would not take her life. Is not this true?
ARIEL
Ay, sir.
PROSPERO
This blue-eyed hag was hither brought with child
And here was left by the sailors. Thou, my slave,As thou report'st thyself, wast then her servant;And, for thou wast a spirit too delicateTo act her earthy and abhorr'd commands,Refusing her grand hests, she did confine thee,By help of her more potent ministersAnd in her most unmitigable rage,Into a cloven pine; within which riftImprison'd thou didst painfully remainA dozen years; within which space she diedAnd left thee there; where thou didst vent thy groansAs fast as mill-wheels strike. Then was this island--Save for the son that she did litter here,A freckled whelp hag-born--not honour'd withA human shape.
ARIEL
Yes, Caliban her son.
PROSPERO
Dull thing, I say so; he, that Caliban
Whom now I keep in service. Thou best know'stWhat torment I did find thee in; thy groansDid make wolves howl and penetrate the breastsOf ever angry bears: it was a tormentTo lay upon the damn'd, which SycoraxCould not again undo: it was mine art,When I arrived and heard thee, that made gapeThe pine and let thee out.
ARIEL
I thank thee, master.
PROSPERO
If thou more murmur'st, I will rend an oak
And peg thee in his knotty entrails tillThou hast howl'd away twelve winters.
ARIEL
Pardon, master;
I will be correspondent to commandAnd do my spiriting gently.
PROSPERO
Do so, and after two days
I will discharge thee.
ARIEL
That's my noble master!
What shall I do? say what; what shall I do?
PROSPERO
Go make thyself like a nymph o' the sea: be subject
To no sight but thine and mine, invisibleTo every eyeball else. Go take this shapeAnd hither come in't: go, hence with diligence!Exit ARIEL
Awake, dear heart, awake! thou hast slept well; Awake!
MIRANDA
The strangeness of your story put
Heaviness in me.
PROSPERO
Shake it off. Come on;
We'll visit Caliban my slave, who neverYields us kind answer.
MIRANDA
'Tis a villain, sir,
I do not love to look on.
PROSPERO
But, as 'tis,
We cannot miss him: he does make our fire,Fetch in our wood and serves in officesThat profit us. What, ho! slave! Caliban!Thou earth, thou! speak.
CALIBAN
[Within] There's wood enough within.
PROSPERO
Come forth, I say! there's other business for thee:
Come, thou tortoise! when?Re-enter ARIEL like a water-nymphFine apparition! My quaint Ariel,
Hark in thine ear.
ARIEL
My lord it shall be done.Exit
PROSPERO
Thou poisonous slave, got by the devil himself
Upon thy wicked dam, come forth!Enter CALIBAN
CALIBAN
As wicked dew as e'er my mother brush'd
With raven's feather from unwholesome fenDrop on you both! a south-west blow on yeAnd blister you all o'er!
PROSPERO
For this, be sure, to-night thou shalt have cramps,
Side-stitches that shall pen thy breath up; urchinsShall, for that vast of night that they may work,All exercise on thee; thou shalt be pinch'dAs thick as honeycomb, each pinch more stingingThan bees that made 'em.
CALIBAN
I must eat my dinner.
This island's mine, by Sycorax my mother,Which thou takest from me. When thou camest first,Thou strokedst me and madest much of me, wouldst give meWater with berries in't, and teach me howTo name the bigger light, and how the less,That burn by day and night: and then I loved theeAnd show'd thee all the qualities o' the isle,The fresh springs, brine-pits, barren place and fertile:Cursed be I that did so! All the charmsOf Sycorax, toads, beetles, bats, light on you!For I am all the subjects that you have,Which first was mine own king: and here you sty meIn this hard rock, whiles you do keep from meThe rest o' the island.
PROSPERO
Thou most lying slave,
Whom stripes may move, not kindness! I have used thee,Filth as thou art, with human care, and lodged theeIn mine own cell, till thou didst seek to violateThe honour of my child.
CALIBAN
O ho, O ho! would't had been done!
Thou didst prevent me; I had peopled elseThis isle with Calibans.
PROSPERO
Abhorred slave,
Which any print of goodness wilt not take,Being capable of all ill! I pitied thee,Took pains to make thee speak, taught thee each hourOne thing or other: when thou didst not, savage,Know thine own meaning, but wouldst gabble likeA thing most brutish, I endow'd thy purposesWith words that made them known. But thy vile race,Though thou didst learn, had that in't whichgood naturesCould not abide to be with; therefore wast thouDeservedly confined into this rock,Who hadst deserved more than a prison.
CALIBAN
You taught me language; and my profit on't
Is, I know how to curse. The red plague rid youFor learning me your language!
PROSPERO
Hag-seed, hence!
Fetch us in fuel; and be quick, thou'rt best,To answer other business. Shrug'st thou, malice?If thou neglect'st or dost unwillinglyWhat I command, I'll rack thee with old cramps,Fill all thy bones with aches, make thee roarThat beasts shall tremble at thy din.
CALIBAN
No, pray thee.AsideI must obey: his art is of such power,
It would control my dam's god, Setebos,and make a vassal of him.
PROSPERO
So, slave; hence!Exit CALIBANRe-enter ARIEL, invisible, playing and singing; FERDINAND followingARIEL'S song.
Come unto these yellow sands,And then take hands:Courtsied when you have and kiss'dThe wild waves whist,Foot it featly here and there;And, sweet sprites, the burthen bear.Hark, hark!Burthen [dispersedly, within
The watch-dogs bark!Burthen Bow-wowHark, hark! I hear
The strain of strutting chanticleerCry, Cock-a-diddle-dow.
FERDINAND
Where should this music be? i' the air or the earth?
It sounds no more: and sure, it waits uponSome god o' the island. Sitting on a bank,Weeping again the king my father's wreck,This music crept by me upon the waters,Allaying both their fury and my passionWith its sweet air: thence I have follow'd it,Or it hath drawn me rather. But 'tis gone.No, it begins again.ARIEL sings
Full fathom five thy father lies;
Of his bones are coral made;Those are pearls that were his eyes:Nothing of him that doth fadeBut doth suffer a sea-changeInto something rich and strange.Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knellBurthen Ding-dong
Hark! now I hear them,--Ding-dong, bell.
FERDINAND
The ditty does remember my drown'd father.
This is no mortal business, nor no soundThat the earth owes. I hear it now above me.
PROSPERO
The fringed curtains of thine eye advance
And say what thou seest yond.
MIRANDA
What is't? a spirit?
Lord, how it looks about! Believe me, sir,It carries a brave form. But 'tis a spirit.
PROSPERO
No, wench; it eats and sleeps and hath such senses
As we have, such. This gallant which thou seestWas in the wreck; and, but he's something stain'dWith grief that's beauty's canker, thou mightst call himA goodly person: he hath lost his fellowsAnd strays about to find 'em.
MIRANDA
I might call him
A thing divine, for nothing naturalI ever saw so noble.
PROSPERO
[Aside] It goes on, I see,
As my soul prompts it. Spirit, fine spirit! I'll free theeWithin two days for this.
FERDINAND
Most sure, the goddess
On whom these airs attend! Vouchsafe my prayerMay know if you remain upon this island;And that you will some good instruction giveHow I may bear me here: my prime request,Which I do last pronounce, is, O you wonder!If you be maid or no?
MIRANDA
No wonder, sir;
But certainly a maid.
FERDINAND
My language! heavens!
I am the best of them that speak this speech,Were I but where 'tis spoken.
PROSPERO
How? the best?
What wert thou, if the King of Naples heard thee?
FERDINAND
A single thing, as I am now, that wonders
To hear thee speak of Naples. He does hear me;And that he does I weep: myself am Naples,Who with mine eyes, never since at ebb, beheldThe king my father wreck'd.
MIRANDA
Alack, for mercy!
FERDINAND
Yes, faith, and all his lords; the Duke of Milan
And his brave son being twain.
PROSPERO
[Aside] The Duke of Milan
And his more braver daughter could control thee,If now 'twere fit to do't. At the first sightThey have changed eyes. Delicate Ariel,I'll set thee free for this.To FERDINAND
A word, good sir;
I fear you have done yourself some wrong: a word.
MIRANDA
Why speaks my father so ungently? This
Is the third man that e'er I saw, the firstThat e'er I sigh'd for: pity move my fatherTo be inclined my way!
FERDINAND
O, if a virgin,
And your affection not gone forth, I'll make youThe queen of Naples.
PROSPERO
Soft, sir! one word more.AsideThey are both in either's powers; but this swift business
I must uneasy make, lest too light winningMake the prize light.To FERDINAND
One word more; I charge thee
That thou attend me: thou dost here usurpThe name thou owest not; and hast put thyselfUpon this island as a spy, to win itFrom me, the lord on't.
FERDINAND
No, as I am a man.
MIRANDA
There's nothing ill can dwell in such a temple:
If the ill spirit have so fair a house,Good things will strive to dwell with't.
PROSPERO
Follow me.
Speak not you for him; he's a traitor. Come;I'll manacle thy neck and feet together:Sea-water shalt thou drink; thy food shall beThe fresh-brook muscles, wither'd roots and husksWherein the acorn cradled. Follow.
FERDINAND
No;
I will resist such entertainment tillMine enemy has more power.Draws, and is charmed from moving
MIRANDA
O dear father,
Make not too rash a trial of him, forHe's gentle and not fearful.
PROSPERO
What? I say,
My foot my tutor? Put thy sword up, traitor;Who makest a show but darest not strike, thy conscienceIs so possess'd with guilt: come from thy ward,For I can here disarm thee with this stickAnd make thy weapon drop.
MIRANDA
Beseech you, father.
PROSPERO
Hence! hang not on my garments.
MIRANDA
Sir, have pity;
I'll be his surety.
PROSPERO
Silence! one word more
Shall make me chide thee, if not hate thee. What!An advocate for an imposter! hush!Thou think'st there is no more such shapes as he,Having seen but him and Caliban: foolish wench!To the most of men this is a CalibanAnd they to him are angels.
MIRANDA
My affections
Are then most humble; I have no ambitionTo see a goodlier man.
PROSPERO
Come on; obey:
Thy nerves are in their infancy againAnd have no vigour in them.
FERDINAND
So they are;
My spirits, as in a dream, are all bound up.My father's loss, the weakness which I feel,The wreck of all my friends, nor this man's threats,To whom I am subdued, are but light to me,Might I but through my prison once a dayBehold this maid: all corners else o' the earthLet liberty make use of; space enoughHave I in such a prison.
PROSPERO
[Aside] It works.To FERDINANDCome on.
Thou hast done well, fine Ariel!To FERDINANDFollow me.To ARIELHark what thou else shalt do me.
MIRANDA
Be of comfort;
My father's of a better nature, sir,Than he appears by speech: this is unwontedWhich now came from him.
PROSPERO
Thou shalt be free
As mountain winds: but then exactly doAll points of my command.
ARIEL
To the syllable.
PROSPERO
Come, follow. Speak not for him.
Exeunt