The Tempest, Act 3, Scene 3

By ’r lakin, I can go no further, sir; My old bones ache: here’s a maze trod, indeed, Through forth-rights and meanders! By your patience, I needs must rest me.

By Our Lady, I can't go any further, sir. My old bones ache. This is a real maze we've walked, through straight paths and winding ones! With your permission, I simply have to rest.

Old lord, I cannot blame thee, Who am myself attach’d with weariness To th’ dulling of my spirits: sit down, and rest. Even here I will put off my hope, and keep it No longer for my flatterer: he is drown’d Whom thus we stray to find; and the sea mocks Our frustrate search on land. Well, let him go.

Old lord, I can't blame you, since I'm seized by weariness myself, till my spirits are dulled. Sit down and rest. Right here I'll lay aside my hope, and keep it no longer as my flatterer. He's drowned, the one we wander about to find, and the sea laughs at our useless search on land. Well, let him go.

[Aside to Sebastian.] I am right glad that he’s so out of hope. Do not, for one repulse, forgo the purpose That you resolv’d to effect.

[Aside to Sebastian.] I'm very glad that he's given up hope like this. Don't, because of one setback, abandon the plan you decided to carry out.

[Aside to Antonio.] The next advantage Will we take throughly.

[Aside to Antonio.] The next chance we get, we'll take it thoroughly.

[Aside to Sebastian.] Let it be tonight; For, now they are oppress’d with travel, they Will not, nor cannot, use such vigilance As when they are fresh.

[Aside to Sebastian.] Let it be tonight. Now that they're worn down by travelling, they won't and can't keep watch as carefully as when they're fresh.

[Aside to Antonio.] I say, tonight: no more.

[Aside to Antonio.] Tonight, I say. No more talk.

What harmony is this? My good friends, hark!

What music is this? My good friends, listen!

Marvellous sweet music!

Wonderfully sweet music!

Give us kind keepers, heavens! What were these?

Heavens, give us kind guardians! What were those things?

A living drollery. Now I will believe That there are unicorns; that in Arabia There is one tree, the phoenix’ throne; one phoenix At this hour reigning there.

A living puppet-show. Now I'll believe that unicorns exist, and that in Arabia there's one tree, the phoenix's throne, with one phoenix reigning there at this very hour.

I’ll believe both; And what does else want credit, come to me, And I’ll be sworn ’tis true: travellers ne’er did lie, Though fools at home condemn them.

I'll believe both of those. And whatever else lacks credit, bring it to me and I'll swear it's true. Travellers never lied, though fools who stay at home condemn them.

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 of Our human generation you shall find Many, nay, almost any.

If I were to report this now in Naples, would they believe me? If I said I saw such islanders — for certes, these are people of the island — who, though they have monstrous shapes, still, notice, their manners are gentler and kinder than you will find in many of our human race, no, than in almost any of them.

[Aside.] Honest lord, Thou hast said well; for some of you there present Are worse than devils.

[Aside.] Honest lord, you've spoken well, for some of you here present are worse than devils.

I cannot too much muse Such shapes, such gesture, and such sound, expressing— Although they want the use of tongue—a kind Of excellent dumb discourse.

I can't wonder enough at such shapes, such gestures and such sounds, expressing — although they lack the use of speech — a kind of excellent silent conversation.

[Aside.] Praise in departing.

[Aside.] Save your praise for the end.

They vanish’d strangely.

They disappeared strangely.

No matter, since They have left their viands behind; for we have stomachs.— Will’t please you taste of what is here?

It doesn't matter, since they've left their food behind, and we have appetites. Would you like to taste what's here?

Not I.

Not I.

Faith, sir, you need not fear. When we were boys, Who would believe that there were mountaineers Dewlapp’d like bulls, whose throats had hanging at ’em Wallets of flesh? Or that there were such men Whose heads stood in their breasts? which now we find Each putter-out of five for one will bring us Good warrant of.

Truly, sir, you needn't be afraid. When we were boys, who would have believed there were mountain-dwellers with dewlaps like bulls, with pouches of flesh hanging from their throats? Or that there were men with their heads in their chests? Which now we find that every traveller who stakes five to one on his safe return can give us good proof of.

I will stand to, and feed, Although my last, no matter, since I feel The best is past. Brother, my lord the duke, Stand to, and do as we.

I'll step up and eat, even if it's my last meal — no matter, since I feel the best of my life is over. Brother, my lord the duke, step up and do as we do.

You are three men of sin, whom Destiny, That hath to instrument this lower world And what is in’t,—the never-surfeited sea Hath caused to belch up you; and on this island Where man doth not inhabit; you ’mongst men Being most unfit to live. I have made you mad; And even with such-like valour men hang and drown Their proper selves.

You are three men of sin, whom Destiny — which uses this lower world and everything in it as its instrument — has made the never-satisfied sea belch up; and onto this island where no man lives, since you are most unfit to live among men. I have made you mad. And it's with just such courage that men hang and drown their own selves.

You fools! I and my fellows Are ministers of Fate: the elements Of whom your swords are temper’d may as well Wound the loud winds, or with bemock’d-at stabs Kill the still-closing waters, as diminish One dowle that’s in my plume. My fellow-ministers Are like invulnerable. If you could hurt, Your swords are now too massy for your strengths, And will not be uplifted. But, remember— For that’s my business to you,—that you three From Milan did supplant good Prospero; Expos’d unto the sea, which hath requit it, Him and his innocent child: for which foul deed The powers, delaying, not forgetting, have Incens’d the seas and shores, yea, all the creatures, Against your peace. Thee of thy son, Alonso, They have bereft; and do pronounce, by me Ling’ring perdition,—worse than any death Can be at once,—shall step by step attend You and your ways; whose wraths to guard you from— Which here, in this most desolate isle, else falls Upon your heads,—is nothing but heart-sorrow, And a clear life ensuing.

You fools! I and my companions are servants of Fate. The elements your swords are forged from might as well wound the loud winds, or with stabs that are laughed at kill the waters that always close again, as reduce a single strand of down in my plumage. My fellow servants are just as invulnerable. Even if you could do harm, your swords are now too heavy for your strength, and won't be lifted. But remember — because that's my business with you — that you three drove good Prospero out of Milan, and exposed him and his innocent child to the sea, which has paid you back for it. For that foul deed the powers, who delay but don't forget, have stirred up the seas and shores, yes, all the creatures, against your peace. They have robbed you of your son, Alonso, and they declare through me that lingering destruction — worse than any death that comes all at once — shall follow you and your doings step by step. And the only thing that can guard you from their anger — which otherwise will fall on your heads here, on this most desolate island — is heartfelt sorrow and a pure life from now on.

[Aside.] Bravely the figure of this Harpy hast thou Perform’d, my Ariel; a grace it had, devouring. Of 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 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 lov’d darling.

[Aside.] You have played the part of this Harpy splendidly, my Ariel. It had a charm to it, the way it devoured. You left out nothing of my instructions in what you had to say. And so, with lively spirit and remarkable attention, my lesser servants have each played their parts. My powerful spells are working, and these enemies of mine are all tangled up in their madness. They're in my power now, and I'll leave them in these fits while I go to visit young Ferdinand — whom they think is drowned — and his and my beloved darling.

I’ the name of something holy, sir, why stand you In this strange stare?

In the name of something holy, sir, why do you stand there with this strange stare?

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, pronounc’d The name of Prosper: it did bass my trespass. Therefore my son i’ th’ ooze is bedded; and I’ll seek him deeper than e’er plummet sounded, And with him there lie mudded.

Oh, it's monstrous, monstrous! I thought the waves spoke and told me of it; the winds sang it to me; and the thunder, that deep and dreadful organ-pipe, spoke the name of Prosper. It sang the bass line to my sin. So my son lies bedded in the slime, and I'll look for him deeper than any sounding-lead has ever reached, and lie there in the mud with him.

But one fiend at a time, I’ll fight their legions o’er.

Only one fiend at a time, and I'll fight their whole legions over again.

I’ll be thy second.

I'll be your second.

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 ecstasy May now provoke them to.

All three of them are desperate. Their great guilt, like a poison meant to take effect long afterwards, is now beginning to gnaw at their spirits. I beg you who have more supple joints, follow them quickly and stop them from whatever this frenzy may now drive them to.

Follow, I pray you.

Come along, please.