Group The Tempest

a n t h o l o g y
The Tempest
William Shakespeare
PROSPERO: Look thou be true; do not give dalliance

Too much the rein: the strongest oaths are straw
To the fire i’ the blood: be more abstemious,
Or else, good night your vow!
FERDINAND: I warrant you sir;
The white cold virgin snow upon my heart
Abates the ardour of my liver.
PROSPERO: Well.
Now come, my Ariel! bring a corollary,
Rather than want a spirit: appear and pertly!
No tongue! all eyes! be silent.
Soft music
Enter IRIS
IRIS: Ceres, most bounteous lady, thy rich leas
Of wheat, rye, barley, vetches, oats and pease;
Thy turfy mountains, where live nibbling sheep,
And flat meads thatch’d with stover, them to keep;
Thy banks with pioned and twilled brims,
Which spongy April at thy hest betrims,
To make cold nymphs chaste crowns; and thy broom -groves,
Whose shadow the dismissed bachelor loves,
Being lass-lorn: thy pole-clipt vineyard;
And thy sea-marge, sterile and rocky-hard,
Where thou thyself dost air;--the queen o’ the sky,
Whose watery arch and messenger am I,
Bids thee leave these, and with her sovereign grace,
Here on this grass-plot, in this very place,
To come and sport: her peacocks fly amain:
Approach, rich Ceres, her to entertain.
Enter CERES
CERES: Hail, many-colour’d messenger, that ne’er
Dost disobey the wife of Jupiter;
Who with thy saffron wings upon my flowers
Diffusest honey-drops, refreshing showers,
And with each end of thy blue bow dost crown
My bosky acres and my unshrubb’d down,
Rich scarf to my proud earth; why hath thy queen
a n t h o l o g y
Summon’d me hither, to this short-grass’d green?

IRIS: A contract of true love to celebrate;
And some donation freely to estate
On the blest lovers.
CERES: Tell me, heavenly bow,
If Venus or her son, as thou dost know,
Do now attend the queen? Since they did plot
The means that dusky Dis my daughter got,
Her and her blind boy’s scandal’d company
I have forsworn.
IRIS: Of her society
Be not afraid: I met her deity
Cutting the clouds towards Paphos and her son
Dove-drawn with her. Here thought they to have done
Some wanton charm upon this man and maid,
Whose vows are, that no bed-right shall be paid
Till Hymen’s torch be lighted: but vain;
Mars’s hot minion is returned again;
Her waspish-headed son has broke his arrows,
Swears he will shoot no more but play with sparrows
And be a boy right out.
CERES: High’st queen of state,
Great Juno, comes; I know her by her gait.
Enter JUNO
JUNO: How does my bounteous sister? Go with me
To bless this twain, that they may prosperous be
And honour’d in their issue.
They sing:
JUNO: Honour, riches, marriage-blessing,
Long continuance, and increasing,
Hourly joys be still upon you!
Juno sings her blessings upon you.
CERES: Earth’s increase, foison plenty,
Barns and garners never empty,
Vines and clustering bunches growing,
Plants with goodly burthen bowing;
Spring come to you at the farthest
In the very end of harvest!
Scarcity and want shall shun you;
Ceres’ blessing so is on you.
FERDINAND: This is a most majestic vision, and
Harmoniously charmingly. May I be bold
a n t h o l o g y
To think these spirits?

PROSPERO: Spirits, which by mine art
I have from their confines call’d to enact
My present fancies.
FERDINAND: Let me live here ever;
So rare a wonder’d father and a wife
Makes this place Paradise.
Juno and Ceres whisper, and send Iris on employment
PROSPERO: Sweet, now, silence!
Juno and Ceres whisper seriously;
There’s something else to do: hush, and be mute,
Or else our spell is marr’d.
IRIS: You nymphs, call’d Naiads, of the windring brooks,
With your sedged crowns and ever-harmless looks,
Leave your crisp channels and on this green land
Answer your summons; Juno does command:
Come, temperate nymphs, and help to celebrate
A contract of true love; be not too late.
Enter certain Nymphs
YOU SUNBURNT SICKLEMEN, OF AUGUST WEARY,

COME HITHER FROM THE FURROW AND BE MERRY:
Make holiday; your rye-straw hats put on
And these fresh nymphs encounter every one
In country footing.
Enter certain Reapers, properly habited: they join with the Nymphs in a graceful
dance; towards the end whereof PROSPERO starts suddenly, and speaks; after
which, to a strange, hollow, and confused noise, they heavily vanish
PROSPERO: [Aside] I had forgot that foul conspiracy
Of the beast Caliban and his confederates
Against my life: the minute of their plot
Is almost come.
To the Spirits
WELL DONE! AVOID; NO MORE!
FERDINAND: This is strange: your father’s in some passion
That works him strongly.
MIRANDA: Never till this day
Saw I him touch’d with anger so distemper’d.
PROSPERO: You do look, my son, in a moved sort,
a n t h o l o g y
As if you were dismay’d: be cheerful, sir.

Our revels now are ended. These our actors,
As I foretold you, were all spirits and
Are melted into air, into thin air:
And, like the baseless fabric of this vision,
The cloud-capp’d towers, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Ye all which it inherit, shall dissolve
And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,
Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff
As dreams are made on, and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep. Sir, I am vex’d;
Bear with my weakness; my, brain is troubled:
Be not disturb’d with my infirmity:
If you be pleased, retire into my cell
And there repose: a turn or two I’ll walk,
To still my beating mind.
FERDINAND MIRANDA:We wish your peace.
Exeunt

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a n t h o l o g y

PROSPERO: Look thou be true; do not give dalliance

Summon’d me hither, to this short-grass’d green?

To think these spirits?

Enter certain Nymphs

YOU SUNBURNT SICKLEMEN, OF AUGUST WEARY,

As if you were dismay’d: be cheerful, sir.

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