Songs

Helena
O weary night, O long and tedious night,
 Abate thy hours! Shine, comforts, from the east,
That I may back to Athens by daylight
 From these that my poor company detest.
And sleep, that sometimes shuts up sorrow’s eye,
Steal me awhile from mine own company.
 She lies down and sleeps.

And sleep,
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Robin
How now, spirit? Whither wander you?

Either I mistake your shape and making quite,
Or else you are that shrewd and knavish sprite
Called Robin Goodfellow.

Fairy

Over hill, over dale,
 Thorough bush, thorough brier,
Over park, over pale,
 Thorough flood,
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Prospero draws a large circle on the stage with his staff.

Prospero
You elves of hills, brooks, standing lakes, and groves,
And you that on the sands with printless foot
Do chase the ebbing Neptune, and do fly him
When he comes back; you demi-puppets that
By moonshine do the green sour ringlets make,
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Prospero
Now come, my Ariel. Bring a corollary
Rather than want a spirit. Appear, and pertly.
 Soft music.
No tongue. All eyes. Be silent.

Spirits, which by mine art
I have from their confines called to enact
My present fancies.

 Enter Iris.
Iris
Ceres, most bounteous lady,
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Caliban
I thank my noble lord. Wilt thou be pleased
to harken once again to the suit I made to thee?
Stephano
Marry, will I. Kneel and repeat it. I will
stand, and so shall Trinculo.
 Enter Ariel, invisible.
Caliban, kneeling
As I told thee before,
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Caliban
All the infections that the sun sucks up
From bogs, fens, flats, on Prosper fall and make him
By inchmeal a disease!

Misery acquaints a man with strange bedfellows.

His spirits hear me,
And yet I needs must curse. But they’ll nor pinch,
Fright me with urchin-shows, pitch me i’ th’ mire,
Nor lead me like a firebrand in the dark
Out of my way,
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Antonio
Will you grant with me
That Ferdinand is drowned?
Sebastian
He’s gone.
Antonio
Then tell me,
Who’s the next heir of Naples?
Sebastian
Claribel.

We all were sea-swallowed, though some cast again,
And by that destiny to perform an act
Whereof what’s past is prologue

Antonio
She that is Queen of Tunis;
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Ariel, invisible, playing and singing.

Come unto these yellow sands,
 And then take hands.
Curtsied when you have, and kissed
 The wild waves whist.
Foot it featly here and there,
 And sweet sprites bear
The burden. Hark,
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Jaques
Which is he that killed the deer?
First Lord
Sir, it was I.

What shall he have that killed the deer?
His leather skin and horns to wear.

Jaques, to the other Lords
Let’s present him to the
Duke like a Roman conqueror. And it would do well
to set the deer’s horns upon his head for a branch of
victory.—Have you no song,
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Peter
Musicians, O musicians, “Heart’s ease,”
“Heart’s ease.” O, an you will have me live, play
“Heart’s ease.”
First Musician
Why “Heart’s ease?”
Peter
O musicians, because my heart itself plays “My
heart is full.” O, play me some merry dump to
comfort me.

I’ll re you, I’ll fa you.
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