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Alonfo, king of Naples.
Profpero, the rightful duke of Milan.
Antonio, his brother, the ufurping duke of Milan.
Gonzalo, an honeft old counsellor of Naples.
Caliban, a favage and deformed flave.
Trinculo, a jefter.
Stephano, a drunken butler.
Mafter of a fhip, Boatfwain, and Mariners.
Miranda, daughter to Profpero.
Other fpirits attending on Profpero.
SCENE, the fea, with a fhip; afterwards, an uninhabited island.
SCENE I. On a Ship at Sea.
A Storm, with Thunder and Lightning.
Enter a SHIP-MASTER,
and a BOATSWAIN.
BOATS. Here, mafter: what cheer?
MAST. Good: speak to the mariners :-fall to't yarely, or we run ourselves aground: beftir, beftir. [Exit.
BOATS. Heigh, my hearts; cheerly, cheerly, my hearts; yare, yare: Take in the top-fail; "Tend to the master's whistle;—Blow, till thou burst thy wind, if room enough! Enter ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, FERDINAND, GONZALO, and others.
ALON. Good boatfwain, have care. Where's the mafter? Play the men.
BOATS. I pray now, keep below.
ANT. Where is the master, boatswain?
BOATS. Do you not hear him? You mar our labour; Keep your cabins: you do affist the storm.
GON. Nay, good, be patient.
BOATS. When the fea is.-Hence! What care thefe roarers for the name of king? To cabin: filence: trouble us
GON. Good; yet remember whom thou haft aboard. BOATS. None that I more love than myself. You are a counsellor; if you can command these elements to filence, and work the peace of the prefent, we will not hand a rope more; use your authority. If you cannot, give thanks you have lived fo long, and make yourself 20 ready in your cabin for the mischance of the hour, if it fo hap.-Cheerly, good hearts-Out of our way, I fay. [Exit.
GON. I have great comfort from this fellow: methinks he hath no drowning mark upon him; his complexion is perfect gallows. Stand faft, 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 hang'd, our cafe is miferable. [Exeunt.
BOATS. Down with the top-maft; yare, lower, lower; bring her to try with main course. [A cry within.] Ą 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 fink?
SEB. A uncharitable dog!
pox o' your throat! you bawling, blasphemous,
BOATS. Work you then.
ANT. Hang, cur, hang! you whorefon, infolent noisemaker! we are lefs afraid to be drown'd, than thou art.
GON. I'll warrant him for drowning; though the ship were no ftronger than a nut-fhell, and as leaky as an unftanch'd wench.