text stringlengths 0 85 |
|---|
Hark, hark! I hear |
The strain of strutting chanticleer |
Cry, Cock-a-diddle-dow. |
FERDINAND. Where should this music be? I' th' air or th' |
earth? |
It sounds no more; and sure it waits upon |
Some god o' th' 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 passion |
With its sweet air; thence I have follow'd it, |
Or it hath drawn me rather. But 'tis gone. |
No, it begins again. |
ARIEL'S SONG |
Full fathom five thy father lies; |
Of his bones are coral made; |
Those are pearls that were his eyes; |
Nothing of him that doth fade |
But doth suffer a sea-change |
Into something rich and strange. |
Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell: |
[Burden: 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 sound |
That 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 seest |
Was in the wreck; and but he's something stain'd |
With grief, that's beauty's canker, thou mightst call him |
A goodly person. He hath lost his fellows, |
And strays about to find 'em. |
MIRANDA. I might call him |
A thing divine; for nothing natural |
I ever saw so noble. |
PROSPERO. [Aside] It goes on, I see, |
As my soul prompts it. Spirit, fine spirit! I'll free thee |
Within two days for this. |
FERDINAND. Most sure, the goddess |
On whom these airs attend! Vouchsafe my pray'r |
May know if you remain upon this island; |
And that you will some good instruction give |
How 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, beheld |
The 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 sight |
They have chang'd 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 first |
That e'er I sigh'd for. Pity move my father |
To be inclin'd my way! |
FERDINAND. O, if a virgin, |
And your affection not gone forth, I'll make you |
The Queen of Naples. |
PROSPERO. Soft, Sir! one word more. |
[Aside] They are both in either's pow'rs; but this swift |
busines |
I must uneasy make, lest too light winning |
Make the prize light. [To FERDINAND] One word more; I |
charge thee |
That thou attend me; thou dost here usurp |
The name thou ow'st not; and hast put thyself |
Upon this island as a spy, to win it |
From 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 be |
The fresh-brook mussels, wither'd roots, and husks |
Subsets and Splits
No community queries yet
The top public SQL queries from the community will appear here once available.