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- Edition: The Tempest
 
The Tempest (Folio 1, 1623)
- Introduction
 - Texts of this edition
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5
The Tempest.
 485Whom stripes may moue, not kindnes: I haue vs'd thee
 486(Filth as thou art) with humane care, and lodg'd thee
 488The honor of my childe.
 489Cal. Oh ho, oh ho, would't had bene done:
 491This Isle with Calibans.
 492Mira. Abhorred Slaue,
 493Which any print of goodnesse wilt not take,
 494Being capable of all ill: I pittied thee,
 495Took pains to make thee speak, taught thee each houre
 496One thing or other: when thou didst not (Sauage)
 497Know thine owne meaning; but wouldst gabble, like
 499With words that made them knowne: But thy vild race
 500(Tho thou didst learn) had that in't, which good natures
 501Could not ab ide to be with; therefore wast thou
 505Is, I know how to curse: the red-plague rid you
 506For learning me your language.
 508Fetch vs in Fewell, and be quicke thou'rt best
 511What I command, Ile racke thee with old Crampes,
 512Fill all thy bones with Aches, make thee rore,
 514Cal. No, 'pray thee.
 516It would controll my Dams god Setebos,
 517And make a vassaile of him.
 519Enter Ferdinand & Ariel, inuisible playing & singing.
  Come vnto these yellow sands,
 521 and then take hands:
 524Foote it featly heere, and there, and sweete Sprights beare
 525 the burthen.
 Burthen dispersedly.
 Harke, harke, bowgh wawgh: the watch-Dogges barke,
 527bowgh-wawgh.
 528Ar.
 Hark, hark, I heare, the straine of strutting Chanticlere
 529cry cockadidle-dowe.
 532Some God 'oth' Iland, sitting on a banke,
 533Weeping againe the King my Fathers wracke.
 534This Musicke crept by me vpon the waters,
 535Allaying both their fury, and my passion
 536With it's sweet ayre: thence I haue follow'd it
 537(Or it hath drawne me rather) but 'tis gone.
 538No, it begins againe.
  Full fadom fiue thy Father lies,
  542Nothing of him that doth fade,
 546Burthen: ding dong.
  Harke now I heare them, ding-dong bell.
 548Fer. The Ditty do's remember my drown'd father,
 550That the earth owes: I heare it now aboue me.
 551Pro. The fringed Curtaines of thine eye aduance,
 553Mira. What is't a Spirit?
 554Lord, how it lookes about: Beleeue me sir,
 555It carries a braue forme. But 'tis a spirit.
 559With greefe (that's beauties canker) yu might'st call him
 562Mir. I might call him
 563A thing diuine, for nothing naturall
 567Within two dayes for this.
 570May know if you remaine vpon this Island,
 572How I may beare me heere: my prime request
 573(Which I do last pronounce) is (O you wonder)
 574If you be Mayd, or no?
 575Mir. No wonder Sir,
 576But certainly a Mayd.
 577Fer. My Language? Heauens:
 579Were I but where 'tis spoken.
 581What wer't thou if the King of Naples heard thee?
 583To heare thee speake of Naples: he do's heare me,
 584And that he do's, I weepe: my selfe am Naples,
 585Who, with mine eyes (neuer since at ebbe) beheld
 586The King my Father wrack't.
 587Mir. Alacke, for mercy.
 588Fer. Yes faith, & all his Lords, the Duke of Millaine
 589And his braue sonne, being twaine.
 590Pro. The Duke of Millaine
 591And his more brauer daughter, could controll thee
 593They haue chang'd eyes: Delicate Ariel,
 594Ile set thee free for this. A word good Sir,
 598That ere I sigh'd for: pitty moue my father
 599To be enclin'd my way.
 600Fer. O, if a Virgin,
 602The Queene of Naples.
 606Make the prize light. One word more: I charge thee
 610From me, the Lord on't.
 611Fer. No, as I am a man.
 614Good things will striue to dwell with't.
 615Pro. Follow me.
 Pro.
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