None that I more love than myself. You are

a counsellor: if you can command these elements to si-

lence, and work the peace of the present, we will not

hand a rope more; use your authority: if you cannot,

give thanks you have lived so long, and make yourself

ready in your cabin for the mischance of the hour, if it

so hap.—Cheerly, good hearts!—Out of our way, I say.

Exit

GONZALO. I have great comfort from this fellow: methinks

he hath no drowning mark upon him; his complexion is

perfect gallows. Stand fast, good Fate, to his hanging!

Make the rope of his destiny our cable, for our own doth

little advantage! If he be not born to be hanged, our

case is miserable.                                             Exeunt

Re-enter Boatswain

BOATSWAIN. Down with the topmast! Yare! Lower, lower!

Bring her to try with main-course. (A cry within) A

plague upon this howling! They are louder than the

weather, or our office.—

Re-enter Sebastian, Antonio, and Gonzalo

Yet again! What do you here? Shall we give o’er, and

drown? Have you a mind to sink?

SEBASTIAN. A pox o’ your throat, you bawling, blasphe-

mous, incharitable dog!

BOATSWAIN. Work you, then.

ANTONIO. Hang, cur, hang! you whoreson, insolent noise-

maker, we are less afraid to be drowned than thou art.

GONZALO. I’ll warrant him for drowning; though the ship

were no stronger than a nutshell, and as leaky as an un-

stanched wench.

BOATSWAIN. Lay her a-hold, a-hold! Set her two courses!

Off to sea again! Lay her off!

Enter Mariners, wet

MARINERS. All lost! To prayers, to prayers! All lost!

Exeunt

BOATSWAIN. What, must our mouths be cold?

GONZALO. The king and prince at prayers! Let us assist

them,

For our case is as theirs.

SEBASTIAN.                                              I am out of patience.

ANTONIO. We are merely cheated of our lives by drunk-

ards.—

This wide-chapp’d rascal,—would thou might’st lie

drowning,

The washing of ten tides!

GONZALO.                                              He’ll be hang’d yet,

Though every drop of water swear against it,

And gape at wid’st 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 wi’ the king.                                             Exit

SEBASTIAN. Let’s take leave of him.                                             Exit

GONZALO. Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea for

an acre of barren ground; long heath, brown furze, any

thing. The wills above be done! But I would fain die a

dry death.                                             Exit



SCENE TWO


The Island: before the Cell of Prospero.


Enter Prospero and Miranda


MIRANDA. If by your art, my dearest father, you have

Put the wild waters in this roar, allay them.

The sky, it seems, would pour down stinking pitch,

But that the sea, mounting to th’ welkin’s cheek,

Dashes the fire out.