The Tempest

by: William Shakespeare

Original Text

Modern Text

Then, to soft music enter the shapes again and dance, with mocks and mows, and carrying out the table
The shapes enter again, accompanied by soft music. Dancing with mocking gestures and grimaces, they carry out the banquet table.
PROSPERO
(aside) Bravely the figure of this harpy hast thou
Performed, my Ariel. A grace it had, devouring.
90Of my instruction hast thou nothing bated
In what thou hadst to say.—So with good life
And observation strange, my meaner ministers
Their several kinds have done. My high charms work
And these mine enemies are all knit up
95In their distractions. They now are in my power,
And in these fits I leave them while I visit
Young Ferdinand, whom they suppose is drowned,
And his and mine loved darling.
PROSPERO
(to himself) You’ve played the role of harpy very well, my Ariel. You were fierce but graceful. You said everything I told you to say.—In the same lifelike way, and with the same attention to detail, my lower-ranking servants have done what they were supposed to do. My magic powers are all in full swing, and my enemies are confused and running around in circles. They’re under my control, and I’m keeping them in their crazy fits while I go visit Ferdinand, whom they think has drowned, and the young woman he and I both love.
Exit PROSPERO above
PROSPERO exits on a platform overhead.
GONZALO
(to ALONSO) I' th' name of something holy, sir, why stand you
100In this strange stare?
GONZALO
(to ALONSO) For the love of God, sir, why are you standing here staring into space like this?
ALONSO
    Oh, 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, pronounced
The name of Prosper. It did bass my trespass.
105Therefore my son i' th' ooze is bedded, and
I’ll seek him deeper than e'er plummet sounded
And with him there lie mudded.
ALONSO
Oh, it’s horrible, horrible. I thought the clouds were talking to me, the winds were singing to me, and the thunder, like an awful organ pipe, roared Prospero’s name. It sang about my crimes. Because of my crimes my son is dead on the ocean floor. I’ll go join him there, going down deeper than any anchor ever sank, and lie with him dead in the mud.
Exit ALONSO
ALONSO exits.