The Tempest E-Book

William Shakespeare

• Herausgeber: Sovereign
• Kategorie: Poesie und Drama
• Serie: Timeless Classic
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2015

Seitenzahl: 90

Beschreibung

Set on a remote island, where Prospero, the rightful Duke of Milan, plots to restore his daughter Miranda to her rightful place using illusion and skilful manipulation. He conjures up a storm, the eponymous tempest, to lure his usurping brother Antonio and the complicit King Alonso of Naples to the island.

Leseprobe

William Shakespeare

William Shakespeare

The Tempest

LONDON ∙ NEW YORK ∙ TORONTO ∙ SAO PAULO ∙ MOSCOW

PARIS ∙ MADRID ∙ BERLIN ∙ ROME ∙ MEXICO CITY ∙ MUMBAI ∙ SEOUL ∙ DOHA

TOKYO ∙ SYDNEY ∙ CAPE TOWN ∙ AUCKLAND ∙ BEIJING

New Edition

Published by Sovereign Classic

www.sovereignclassic.net

This Edition

First published in 2015

Copyright © 2015 Sovereign Classic

Contents

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ

ACT I

ACT II

ACT III

ACT IV

ACT V

EPILOGUE

DRAMATIS PERSONÆ

The Tempest: Dramatis Personae

Alonso,King of Naples

Sebastian,his brother

Prospero,the right Duke of Milan

Antonio,his brother, the usurping Duke of Milan

Ferdinand,son to the King of Naples

Gonzalo,an honest old councilor

Adrian, Francisco,lords

Caliban,a savage and deformed slave

Trinculo,a jester

Stephano,a drunken butler

Master of a ship

Boatswain

Mariners

Miranda,daughter to Prospero

Ariel,an airy spirit

Iris, Ceres, Juno, Nymphs, Reapers,spirits

Scene:a ship at sea, followed by an uninhabited island

ACT I

SCENE I. ON A SHIP AT SEA: A TEMPESTUOUS NOISE OF THUNDER AND LIGHTNING HEARD.

Enter a Master and a Boatswain

Master

Boatswain!

Boatswain

Here, master: what cheer?

Master

Good, speak to the mariners: fall to’t, yarely,or we run ourselves aground: bestir, bestir.

Exit

Enter Mariners

Boatswain

Heigh, my hearts! cheerly, cheerly, my hearts!yare, yare! Take in the topsail. Tend to themaster’s whistle. Blow, till thou burst thy wind,if room enough!

Enter ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, FERDINAND, GONZALO, and others

ALONSO

Good boatswain, have care. Where’s the master?Play the men.

Boatswain

I pray now, keep below.

ANTONIO

Where is the master, boatswain?

Boatswain

Do you not hear him? You mar our labour: keep yourcabins: you do assist the storm.

GONZALO

Nay, good, be patient.

Boatswain

When the sea is. Hence! What cares these roarersfor the name of king? To cabin: silence! trouble us not.

GONZALO

Good, yet remember whom thou hast aboard.

Boatswain

None that I more love than myself. You are acounsellor; if you can command these elements tosilence, and work the peace of the present, we willnot hand a rope more; use your authority: if youcannot, give thanks you have lived so long, and makeyourself ready in your cabin for the mischance ofthe hour, if it so hap. Cheerly, good hearts! Outof our way, I say.

Exit

GONZALO

I have great comfort from this fellow: methinks hehath no drowning mark upon him; his complexion isperfect gallows. Stand fast, good Fate, to hishanging: make the rope of his destiny our cable,for our own doth little advantage. If he be notborn to be hanged, our case is miserable.

Exeunt

Re-enter Boatswain

Boatswain

Down with the topmast! yare! lower, lower! Bringher to try with main-course.

A cry within

A plague upon this howling! they are louder thanthe weather or our office.

Re-enter SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, and GONZALO

Yet again! what do you here? Shall we give o’erand drown? Have you a mind to sink?

SEBASTIAN

A pox o’ your throat, you bawling, blasphemous,incharitable dog!

Boatswain

Work you then.

ANTONIO

Hang, cur! hang, you whoreson, insolent noisemaker!We are less afraid to be drowned than thou art.

GONZALO

I’ll warrant him for drowning; though the ship wereno stronger than a nutshell and as leaky as anunstanched wench.

Boatswain

Lay her a-hold, a-hold! set her two courses off tosea again; lay her off.

Enter Mariners wet

Mariners

All lost! to prayers, to prayers! all lost!

Boatswain

What, must our mouths be cold?

GONZALO

The king and prince at prayers! let’s assist them,For our case is as theirs.

SEBASTIAN

I’m out of patience.

ANTONIO

We are merely cheated of our lives by drunkards:This wide-chapp’d rascal--would thou mightst lie drowningThe washing of ten tides!

GONZALO

He’ll be hang’d yet,Though every drop of water swear against itAnd gape at widest to glut him.

A confused noise within: ‘Mercy on us!’-- ‘We split, we split!’--’Farewell, my wife and children!’-- ‘Farewell, brother!’--’We split, we split, we split!’

ANTONIO

Let’s all sink with the king.

SEBASTIAN

Let’s take leave of him.

Exeunt ANTONIO and SEBASTIAN

GONZALO

Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea for anacre of barren ground, long heath, brown furze, anything. The wills above be done! but I would faindie a dry death.

Exeunt

SCENE II. THE ISLAND. BEFORE PROSPERO’S CELL.

Enter PROSPERO and MIRANDA

MIRANDA

If by your art, my dearest father, you havePut 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 knowDid never meddle with my thoughts.

PROSPERO

‘Tis timeI 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’dThe 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 oftenBegun 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 offAnd 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 itThat 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, andShe 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 bleedsTo 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’dAnd 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 meIf this might be a brother.

MIRANDA

I should sinTo think but nobly of my grandmother:Good wombs have borne bad sons.

PROSPERO

Now the condition.