THE TEMPEST. Уильям Шекспир

hope.

       Do not, for one repulse, forgo the purpose

       That you resolv’d to effect.

       SEBASTIAN.

       [Aside to ANTONIO] The next advantage

       Will we take throughly.

       ANTONIO.

       [Aside to SEBASTIAN] Let it be tonight;

       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, tonight: no more.

       [Solemn and strange music: and PROSPERO above, invisible. Enter several strange Shapes, bringing in a banquet: they dance about it with gentle actions of salutation; and inviting the KING, &c., 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 them.

       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 them

       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 caused 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:

       [Seeing ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, &c., draw their swords]

       And even with such-like valour men hang and drown

       Their proper selves. 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 powers, 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

       Lingering 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-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 carry out the table]

       PROSPERO.

       [Aside] 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 power;

       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’ the name of something holy, sir, why stand you

       In this strange stare?

       ALONSO.