Act 3, Scene 3

Original Text

*Another part of the island. Enter Alonso, Sebastian, Antonio, Gonzalo, Adrian, Francisco, and others.* GONZALO. 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. ALONSO. Old lord, I cannot blame thee, Who am myself attach'd with weariness, To the 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.

Modern English

*Another part of the island. Alonso, Sebastian, Antonio, Gonzalo, Adrian, Francisco, and others enter.* GONZALO. By Our Lady, I can't go another step, sir. My old bones are aching. What a maze we've walked -- straight paths and winding ones! With your permission, I need to sit down. ALONSO. I can't blame you, old friend -- I'm weighed down with exhaustion myself, my spirits completely dulled. Sit down and rest. Right here, I'm giving up hope. I won't hold onto it any longer as a comfort. He's drowned -- the son we've been wandering to find. The sea mocks our useless search on land. Well, let him go.

Original Text

*Thunder and lightning. Enter Ariel, like a harpy; claps his wings upon the table; and, with a quaint device, the banquet vanishes.* ARIEL. 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 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.

Modern English

*Thunder and lightning. Ariel enters disguised as a harpy, beats his wings on the table, and the banquet magically vanishes.* ARIEL. You are three men steeped in sin, whom Destiny -- which uses this lower world and everything in it as its instrument -- had the never-satisfied sea vomit up. And on this island where no human lives, you are among all men the least fit to go on living. I've driven you mad -- and with that same kind of desperate courage, men hang and drown themselves. You fools! My companions and I are agents of Fate. The very elements your swords are made of could sooner wound the howling winds, or with your laughable stabs kill the water that closes up again behind the blade, as take a single feather from my wings. My fellow agents are equally beyond your harm.

Original Text

ARIEL. But remember,-- For that's my business to you,--that you three From Milan did supplant good Prospero; Exposed unto the sea, which hath requit it, Him and his innocent child: for which foul deed The powers, delaying, not forgetting, have Incensed the seas and shores, yea, all the creatures, Against your peace. Thee of thy son, Alonso, They have bereft; and do pronounce by me: Lingering 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.

Modern English

ARIEL. But remember -- because this is my message to you -- that you three drove good Prospero out of Milan, cast him and his innocent child into the sea, which has now repaid that crime. For that foul deed, the higher powers -- who delayed but did not forget -- have turned the seas and shores, and every living creature, against your peace. You, Alonso, they have robbed of your son. And through me they decree: a slow, creeping destruction -- worse than any death that strikes all at once -- will follow you step by step wherever you go. The only way to protect yourselves from this punishment, which will otherwise fall on your heads here on this desolate island, is deep remorse in your hearts and a clean life from this day forward.

Original Text

ALONSO. 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, pronounced 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.

Modern English

ALONSO. Oh, it's monstrous -- monstrous! I thought the waves themselves were speaking, telling me of my crime. The winds sang it to me. And the thunder -- that deep, dreadful organ pipe -- pronounced the name of Prospero. It made the bass note of my sin. That's why my son lies buried in the ocean mud. I'll search for him deeper than any weight ever sank, and lie down in the muck beside him.

The Tempest

Act 3, Scene 3

Act 3, Scene 3