Actus primus, Scena prima
A tempestuous noise of Thunder and Lightning heard: Enter a Ship-master and a Boteswaine
Heere Master: What cheere?
Good: Speake to th’ Mariners: fall too't yarely, or we run our selves a ground: bestirre, bestirre.
Heigh my hearts, cheerely, cheerely my harts: yare, yare: Take in the toppe-sale: Tend to th' Master's whistle: Blow till thou burst thy winde, if roome enough.
Enter Alonso, Sebastian, Anthonio, Ferdinando,
Gonzalo, and others
Good Boteswaine haue care: where's the Master? Play the men.
I pray now keepe below.
Where is the Master, Boson?
Do you not heare him? you marre our labour, Keepe your Cabines: you do assist the storme.
Nay, good be patient.
When the Sea is: hence, what cares these roarers for the name of King? to Cabine; silence: trouble us not.
Good, yet remember whom thou hast aboord.
None that I more love then myselfe. You are a Counsellor, if you can command these Elements to silence, and worke the peace of the present, wee will not hand a rope more, vse your authoritie: If you cannot, give thankes you haue liu'd so long, and make your selfe readie in your Cabine for the mischance of the houre, if it so hap.Cheerely good hearts: out of our way I say.
I have great comfort from this fellow: methinks he hath no drowning marke vpon him: his complexion is perfect Gallowes: stand fast good Fate to his hanging, make the rope of his destiny our cable, for our owne doth little advantage: If he be not borne to bee hang'd, our case is miserable.
Downe with the top-Mast: yare, lower, lower, bring her to Try with Main-course. A plague—
A cry within. Enter Sebastian, Anthonio, and Gonzalo
A poxe o' your throat, you bawling, blasphemous incharitable Dog.
Worke you then.
Hang cur, hang, you whoreson insolent Noysemaker, :we are lesse afraid to be drowned, than thou art.
I'll warrant him for drowning, though the Ship were no stronger than a Nutt-shell, and as leaky as an unstanched wench.
Lay her a hold, a hold, set her two courses off to Sea againe, lay her off.
Enter Mariners wet.
All lost, to prayers, to prayers, all lost.
What must our mouths be cold?
The King, and Prince, at prayers, let’s assist them, for our case is as theirs.
I'am out of patience.
We are meerly cheated of our lives by drunkards, This wide-chopt rascall, would thou might'st lye drowning the washing of ten Tides.
Hee'l be hang'd yet,
Though every drop of water sweare against it,
And gape at widst to glut him. A confused noyse within.
Mercy on us.
We split, we split! Farewell, my wife, and children,
Farewell brother: we split, we split, we split.
Let's all sink with’ King.
Let's take leave of him.
Now would I give a thousand furlongs of Sea, for an Acre of barren ground: Long heath, Browne firrs, any thing; the wills above be done, but I would faine dye a dry death.
Enter Prospero and Miranda.
If by your Art (my deerest father) you have
Put the wild waters in this Rore; alay them:
The skye it seemes would powre down stinking pitch,
But that the Sea, mounting to th' welkins cheeke,
Dashes the fire out. Oh! I have suffered
With those that I saw suffer: A brave vessell