| “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.” | Gonzalo- During the Tempest |
| “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 suffer’dWith 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.” | Miranda- To Prospero |
| “My brother, and thy uncle, call’d Antonio,—I pray thee, mark me,—that a brother shouldBe so perfidious!—he whom, next thyself,Of all the world I loved, and to him putThe manage of my state; as, at that time,Through all the signories it was the first,And 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 brother,And to my state grew stranger, being transportedAnd rapt in secret studies. Thy false uncle—Dost thou attend me?” | Prospero- to Miranda |
| “Some food we had, and some fresh water, that A noble Neapolitan, Gonzalo,Out of his charity, who being then appointedMaster of this design, did give us, withRich garments, linens, stuffs and necessaries, Which since have steaded much; so, of his gentleness,Knowing I loved my books, he furnish’d meFrom mine own library with volumes thatI prize above my dukedom.” | Prospero- to Miranda |
| “On their sustaining garments not a blemish,But fresher than before: and, as thou badest me, In troops I have dispersed them ’bout the isle.The king’s son have I landed by himself;Whom I left cooling of the air with sighsIn an odd angle of the isle, and sitting,His arms in this sad knot.” | Ariel- to Prospero |
| “As thou report’st thyself, wast then her servant;And, for thou wast a spirit too delicateTo act her earthy and abhorr’d commands,Refusing her grand hests, she did confine thee, By help of her more potent ministers,And in her most unmitigable rage,Into a cloven pine; within which riftImprison’d thou didst painfully remainA dozen years; within which space she died, And left thee there; where thou didst vent thy groansAs fast as mill-wheels strike. Then was this island—Save for the son that she did litter here,A freckled whelp hag-born—not honour’d withA human shape.” | Prospero- to Ariel |
| “To name the bigger light, and how the less,That burn by day and night: and then I loved thee,And show’d thee all the qualities o’ th’ isle,The fresh springs, brine-pits, barren place and fertile:Curs’d be I that did so! All the charms Of Sycorax, toads, beetles, bats, light on you!For I am all the subjects that you have,Which first was mine own king: and here you sty meIn this hard rock, whiles you do keep from meThe rest o’ th’ island.” | Caliban- to Prospero |
| “Took pains to make thee speak, taught thee each hour One thing or other: when thou didst not, savage,Know thine own meaning, but wouldst gabble likeA thing most brutish, I endow’d thy purposesWith words that made them known. But thy vile race,Though thou didst learn, had that in’t which good natures Could not abide to be with; therefore wast thou Deservedly confined into this rock,Who hadst deserved more than a prison.” | Miranda- to Caliban |
| “Most sure, the goddessOn whom these airs attend! Vouchsafe my prayerMay 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?” | Ferdinand- upon seeing Miranda |
| “My spirits, as in a dream, are all bound up.My father’s loss, the weakness which I feel,The wreck of all my friends, nor this man’s threats,To whom I am subdued, are but light to me, Might I but through my prison once a dayBehold this maid: all corners else o’ th’ earthLet liberty make use of; space enoughHave I in such a prison.” | Ferdinand- about/to Miranda |
| “Beseech you, sir, be merry; you have cause,So have we all, of joy; for our escapeIs much beyond our loss. Our hint of woeIs common; every day, some sailor’s wife, The masters of some merchant, and the merchant,Have just our theme of woe; but for the miracle, I mean our preservation, few in millionsCan speak like us: then wisely, good sir, weighOur sorrow with our comfort.” | Gonzalo- to Alonso |
| “Sir, he may live:I saw him beat the surges under him,And ride upon their backs; he trod the water.110 Whose enmity he flung aside, and breastedThe surge most swoln that met him; his bold head ‘Bove the contentious waves he kept, and oar’dHimself with his good arms in lusty strokeTo the shore, that o’er his wave-worn basis bow’d, As stooping to relieve him: I not doubtHe came alive to land.” | Francisco- to Alonso |
| “Ay, sir; where lies that? if ’twere a kibe,’Twould put me to my slipper: but I feel notThis deity in my bosom: twenty consciences, That stand ‘twixt me and Milan, candied be they,And melt, ere they molest! Here lies your brother,No better than the earth he lies upon,If he were that which now he’s like, that’s dead;Whom I, with this obedient steel, three inches of it,Can lay to bed for ever; whiles you, doing thus,To the perpetual wink for aye might putThis ancient morsel, this Sir Prudence, whoShould not upbraid our course. For all the rest,They’ll take suggestion as a cat laps milk; They’ll tell the clock to any business thatWe say befits the hour.” | Antonio- to Alonso’s brother Sebastion |
| “All the infections that the sun sucks upFrom bogs, fens, flats, on Prosper fall, and make himBy inch-meal a disease! His spirits hear me,And yet I needs must curse. But they’ll nor pinch, Fright me with urchin-shows, pitch me i’ the mire,Nor lead me, like a firebrand, in the dark Out of my way, unless he bid ’em: butFor every trifle are they set upon me;Sometime like apes, that mow and chatter at me,10 And after bite me; then like hedgehogs, whichLie tumbling in my barefoot way, and mountTheir pricks at my footfall; sometime am IAll wound with adders, who with cloven tonguesDo hiss me into madness.” | Caliban- about Prospero and his woes |
| “Here’s neither bush nor shrub, to bear off any weather at all, and another storm brewing; I hear it sing i’ the wind: yond same black cloud, yond huge one, looks like a foul bombard that would shed his liquor. If it should thunder as it did before, I know not where to hide my head: yond same cloud cannot choose but fall by pailfuls. What have we here? a man or a fish? dead or alive? A fish: he smells like a fish; a very ancient and fish-like smell; a kind of not of the newest Poor-John. A strange fish! Were I in England now, as once I was, and had but this fish painted, not a holiday fool there but would give a piece of silver: there would this monster make a man; any strange beast there makes a man: when they will not give a doit to relieve a lame beggar, they will lay out ten to see a dead Indian. Legged like a man! and his fins like arms! Warm o’ my troth! I do now let loose my opinion; hold it no longer: this is no fish, but an islander, that hath lately suffered by a thunderbolt. [Thunder.] Alas, the storm is come again! my best way is to creep under his gaberdine; there is no other shelter hereabout: misery acquaints a man with strange bed-fellows. I will here shroud till the dregs of the storm be past.” | Trinculo- about Caliban |
| “This is some monster of the isle with four legs, who hath got, as I take it, an ague. Where the devil should he learn our language? I will give him some relief, if it be but for that. If I can recover him, and keep him tame, and get to Naples with him, he’s a present for any emperor that ever trod on neat’s-leather.” | Stephano- about Caliban and Trinculo |
| “I’ll show thee the best springs; I’ll pluck thee berries;I’ll fish for thee, and get thee wood enough.A plague upon the tyrant that I serve!I’ll bear him no more sticks, but follow thee,Thou wondrous man.” | Caliban- to Stephano |
| “There be some sports are painful, and their labourDelight in them sets off: some kinds of basenessAre nobly undergone, and most poor mattersPoint to rich ends. This my mean task Would be as heavy to me as odious, butThe mistress which I serve quickens what’s dead,And makes my labours pleasures: O, she isTen times more gentle than her father’s crabbed.And he’s composed of harshness. I must remove Some thousands of these logs, and pile them up,Upon a sore injunction: my sweet mistressWeeps when she sees me work, and says, such baseness Had never like executor. I forget:But these sweet thoughts do even refresh my labours, Most busy lest, when I do it.” | Ferdinand- about Miranda |
| “At mine unworthiness, that dare not offerWhat I desire to give; and much less take What I shall die to want. But this is trifling; And all the more it seeks to hide itself,The bigger bulk it shows. Hence, bashful cunning!And prompt me, plain and holy innocence!I am your wife, if you will marry me;If not, I’ll die your maid: to be your fellow You may deny me; but I’ll be your servant,Whether you will or no.” | Miranda- to Ferdinand |
| “So glad of this as they I cannot be,Who are surprised withal; but my rejoicingAt nothing can be more. I’ll to my book; For yet, ere supper-time, must I performMuch business appertaining.” | Prospero- about Miranda and Prospero |
| “Be not afeard; the isle is full of noises,Sounds and sweet airs, that give delight, and hurt not.Sometimes a thousand twangling instrumentsWill hum about mine ears; and sometime voices,That, if I then had waked after long sleep, Will make me sleep again: and then, in dreaming,The clouds methought would open, and show richesReady to drop upon me; that, when I waked,I cried to dream again.” | Caliban- about his imprisonment |
| “If in Naples I should report this now, would they believe me? If I should say, I saw such islanders,— For, certes, these are people of the island,—Who, though they are of monstrous shape, yet, note,Their manners are more gentle-kind than ofOur human generation you shall findMany, nay, almost any.?” | Gonzalo- about the feast and the strange shapes |
| “You are three men of sin, whom Destiny,—That hath to instrument this lower world And what is in’t,—the never-surfeited seaHath caused to belch up you; and on this island,Where man doth not inhabit,—you ‘mongst menBeing most unfit to live. I have made you mad;And even with such-like valour men hang and drownTheir proper selves.” | Ariel- to Alonso, Sebastian, and Antonio |
| “Bravely the figure of this harpy hast thouPerform’d, my Ariel; a grace it had, devouring: Of my instruction hast thou nothing batedIn what thou hadst to say: so, with good lifeAnd observation strange, my meaner ministersTheir several kinds have done. My high charms work,And these mine enemies are all knit up In their distractions: they now are in my power;And in these fits I leave them, while I visit Young Ferdinand,—whom they suppose is drown’d,—And his and mine loved darling.” | Prospero- to Ariel |
| “O, it is monstrous, monstrous!Methought the billows spoke, and told me of it;The winds did sing it to me; and the thunder,That deep and dreadful organ-pipe, pronouncedThe name of Prosper: it did bass my trespass. Therefore my son i’ th’ ooze is bedded; andI’ll seek him deeper than e’er plummet sounded,And with him there lie mudded.” | Alonso- about the Harpies |
| “All three of them are desperate: their great guilt, Like poison given to work a great time after,Now ‘gins to bite the spirits. I do beseech you,That are of suppler joints, follow them swiftly,And hinder them from what this ecstasyMay now provoke them to.” | Gonzalo- about Alonso, Sebastian, and Antonio |
| “If I have too austerely punish’d you,Your compensation makes amends; for IHave given you here a third of mine own life,Or that for which I live; who once again I tender to thy hand: all thy vexationsWere but my trials of thy love, and thouHast strangely stood the test: here, afore Heaven,I ratify this my rich gift. O Ferdinand,Do not smile at me that I boast her off, For thou shalt find she will outstrip all praise, And make it halt behind her.” | Prospero- to Ferdinand (and Miranda) |
| “You do look, my son, in a moved sort,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,Yea, 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 old 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.” | Prospero- to Miranda and Ferdinand (letting Miranda go) |
| I told you, sir, they were red-hot with drinking;So full of valour that they smote the airFor breathing in their faces; beat the groundFor kissing of their feet; yet always bending Towards their project. Then I beat my tabor;At which, like unback’d colts, they prick’d their ears,Advanced their eyelids, lifted up their nosesAs they smelt music: so I charm’d their ears,That, calf-like, they my lowing follow’d through Tooth’d briers, sharp furzes, pricking goss, and thorns, Which enter’d their frail shins: at last I left them I’ the filthy-mantled pool beyond your cell, There dancing up to the chins, that the foul lakeO’erstunk their feet.” | Ariel- to Prospero |
| “A devil, a born devil, on whose natureNurture can never stick; on whom my pains, Humanely taken, all, all lost, quite lost;And as with age his body uglier grows,So his mind cankers. I will plague them all,Even to roaring.” | Prospero – to Ariel (plotting to kill Trinculo, Stephano, and Caliban |
| “In the same fashion as you gave in charge,Just as you left them; all prisoners, sir,10 In the line-grove which weather-fends your cell;They cannot budge till your release. The king,His brother, and yours, abide all three distracted,And the remainder mourning over them,Brimful of sorrow and dismay; but chiefly Him that you term’d, sir, “The good old lord, Gonzalo;” His tears run down his beard, like winter’s drops From eaves of reeds. Your charm so strongly works ’em, That if you now beheld them, your affections Would become tender.” | Ariel- to Miranda |
| “Ye elves of hills, brooks, standing lakes, and groves;And ye that on the sands with printless foot Do chase the ebbing Neptune, and do fly himWhen he comes back; you demi-puppets that By moonshine do the green sour ringlets make,Whereof the ewe not bites; and you whose pastimeIs to make midnight mushrooms, that rejoice To hear the solemn curfew; by whose aid— Weak masters though ye be—I have bedimm’d The noontide sun, call’d forth the mutinous winds. And ‘twixt the green sea and the azured vault Set roaring war: to the dread rattling thunder Have I given fire, and rifted Jove’s stout oak With his own bolt; the strong-based promontory Have I made shake, and by the spurs pluck’d up The pine and cedar: graves at my command Have waked their sleepers, oped, and let ’em forth By my so potent art. But this rough magicI here abjure; and, when I have requiredSome heavenly music,—which even now I do,—To work mine end upon their senses, thatThis airy charm is for, I’ll break my staff, Bury it certain fathoms in the earth, And deeper than did ever plummet sound I’ll drown my book.” | Propsero- plotting to get rid of the spell and his plans afterward |
| “Whether thou be’st he or no,Or some enchanted trifle to abuse me,As late I have been, I not know: thy pulseBeats, as of flesh and blood; and, since I saw thee, The affliction of my mind amends, with which,I fear, a madness held me: this must crave—An if this be at all—a most strange story.Thy dukedom I resign, and do entreatThou pardon me my wrongs.—But how should Prospero Be living and be here?” | Alonso- to about Prospero |
| “How many goodly creatures are there here!How beauteous mankind is! O brave new world, That has such people in’t!” | Miranda- about the men |
| “Was Milan thrust from Milan, that his issueShould become kings of Naples? O, rejoiceBeyond a common joy! and set it downWith gold on lasting pillars: In one voyageDid Claribel her husband find at Tunis, And Ferdinand, her brother, found a wife Where he himself was lost, Prospero his dukedomIn a poor isle, and all of us ourselvesWhen no man was his own.” | Gonzalo- about the situation |
| “If I did think, sir, I were well awake, I’ld strive to tell you. We were dead of sleep, And—how we know not—all clapp’d under hatches; Where, but even now, with strange and several noisesOf roaring, shrieking, howling, jingling chains,And more diversity of sounds, all horrible, We were awaked; straightway, at liberty;Where we, in all her trim, freshly beheldOur royal, good, and gallant ship; our masterCapering to eye her:—on a trice, so please you,Even in a dream, were we divided from them,And were brought moping hither.” | Boatswain- about the Tempest |
| “Sir, I invite your Highness and your trainTo my poor cell, where you shall take your restFor this one night; which, part of it, I’ll wasteWith such discourse as, I not doubt, shall make itGo quick away: the story of my life, And the particular accidents gone by Since I came to this isle: and in the morn I’ll bring you to your ship, and so to Naples,Where I have hope to see the nuptialOf these our dear-beloved solemnized; And thence retire me to my Milan, where Every third thought shall be my grave.” | Prospero- explaining what the plan is from there |
| “Now my charms are all o’erthrown,And what strength I have’s mine own,Which is most faint: now, ’tis true,I must be here confined by you, Or sent to Naples. Let me not, Since I have my dukedom got,And pardon’d the deceiver, dwellIn this bare island by your spell;But release me from my bands With the help of your good hands: Gentle breath of yours my sailsMust fill, or else my project fails,Which was to please. Now I wantSpirits to enforce, art to enchant; And my ending is despair, Unless I be relieved by prayer,Which pierces so, that it assaultsMercy itself, and frees all faults.As you from crimes would pardon’d be, Let your indulgence set me free.” | Prospero- EPILOGUE, (Prospero giving up magic/ Shakespeare retiring?) |
The Tempest Quotes
July 14, 2019