Fiction > Harvard Classics > William Shakespeare > The Tempest
William Shakespeare (1564–1616).  The Tempest.
The Harvard Classics.  1909–14.
Act I
Scene II
[The island. Before Prospero’s cell]

  Mir.  If by your art, my dearest father, you have
Put the wild waters in this roar, allay them.
The sky, it seems, would pour down stinking pitch,
But that the sea, mounting to the welkin’s cheek,        4
Dashes the fire out. O, I have suffered
With those that I saw suffer! A brave vessel,
Who had, no doubt, some noble creature in her,
Dash’d all to pieces! O, the cry did knock        8
Against my very heart. Poor souls, they perish’d.
Had I been any god of power, I would
Have sunk the sea within the earth or ere
It should the good ship so have swallow’d and        12
The fraughting 1 souls within her.
  Pros.        Be collected;
No more amazement. Tell your piteous heart
There’s no harm done.        16
  Mir.        O, woe the day!
  Pros.        No harm.
I have done nothing but in care of thee,
Of thee, my dear one, thee, my daughter, who        20
Art ignorant of what thou art, nought knowing
Of whence I am, nor that I am more better
Than Prospero, master of a full poor cell,
And thy no greater father.        24
  Mir.        More to know
Did never meddle with my thoughts.
  Pros.        ’Tis time
I should inform thee farther. Lend thy hand,        28
And pluck my magic garment from me. So,  [Lays down his mantle.]
Lie there, my art. Wipe thou thine eyes; have comfort.
The direful spectacle of the wreck, which touch’d
The very virtue of compassion in thee,        32
I have with such provision in mine art
So safely ordered that there is no soul—
No, not so much perdition as an hair
Betid to any creature in the vessel        36
Which thou heard’st cry, which thou saw’st sink. Sit down;
For thou must now know farther.
  Mir.        You have often
Begun to tell me what I am, but stopp’d        40
And left me to a bootless inquisition,
Concluding, “Stay, not yet.”
  Pros.        The hour’s now come;
The very minute bids thee ope thine ear.        44
Obey and be attentive. Canst thou remember
A time before we came unto this cell?
I do not think thou canst, for then thou wast not
Out three years old.        48
  Mir.        Certainly, sir, I can.
  Pros.  By what? By any other house or person?
Of anything the image tell me, that
Hath kept with thy remembrance.        52
  Mir.        ’Tis far off
And rather like a dream than an assurance
That my remembrance warrants. Had I not
Four or five women once that tended me?        56
  Pros.  Thou hadst, and more, Miranda. But how is it
That this lives in thy mind? What seest thou else
In the dark backward and abysm 2 of time?
If thou rememb’rest aught ere thou cam’st here,        60
How thou cam’st here thou may’st.
  Mir.        But that I do not.
  Pros.  Twelve year since, Miranda, twelve year since,
Thy father was the Duke of Milan and        64
A prince of power.
  Mir.        Sir, are not you my father?
  Pros.  Thy mother was a piece of virtue, and
She said thou wast my daughter; and thy father        68
Was Duke of Milan, and his only heir
And princess no worse issued.
  Mir.        O the heavens!
What foul play had we, that we came from thence?        72
Or blessed was ’t we did?
  Pros.        Both, both, my girl.
By foul play, as thou say’st, were we heav’d thence,
But blessedly holp hither.        76
  Mir.        O, my heart bleeds
To think o’ the teen 3 that I have turn’d you to,
Which is from my remembrance! Please you, farther.
  Pros.  My brother and thy uncle, call’d Antonio—        80
I pray thee, mark me—that a brother should
Be so perfidious!—he whom next thyself
Of all the world I lov’d, and to him put
The manage 4 of my state; as at that time        84
Through all the signories 5 it was the first,
And Prospero the prime duke, being so reputed
In dignity, and for the liberal arts
Without a parallel; those being all my study,        88
The government I cast upon my brother
And to my state grew stranger, being transported
And rapt in secret studies. Thy false uncle—
Dost thou attend me?        92
  Mir.        Sir, most heedfully.
  Pros.  Being once perfected how to grant suits,
How to deny them, who to advance and who
To trash for overtopping, 6 new created        96
The creatures that were mine, I say, or chang’d ’em,
Or else new form’d ’em; having both the key
Of officer and office, set all hearts i’ the state
To what tune pleas’d his ear; that now he was        100
The ivy which had hid my princely trunk,
And suck’d my verdure out on ’t. Thou attend’st not.
  Mir.  O, good sir, I do.
  Pros.        I pray thee, mark me.        104
I, thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicated
To closeness 7 and the bettering of my mind
With that which, but by being so retir’d,
O’er-priz’d all popular rate, 8 in my false brother        108
Awak’d an evil nature; and my trust,
Like a good parent, did beget of him
A falsehood, in its contrary as great
As my trust was; which had indeed no limit,        112
A confidence sans 9 bound. He being thus lorded,
Not only with what my revenue yielded,
But what my power might else exact,—like one
Who having into truth, by telling of it,        116
Made such a sinner of his memory
To credit his own lie,—he did believe
He was indeed the Duke. Out o’ the substitution, 10
And executing the outward face of royalty,        120
With all prerogative, hence his ambition growing—
Dost thou hear?
  Mir.        Your tale, sir, would cure deafness.
  Pros.  To have no screen between this part he play’d        124
And him he play’d it for, he needs will be
Absolute Milan. Me, poor man!—my library
Was dukedom large enough—of temporal royalties
He thinks me now incapable; confederates—        128
So dry 11 he was for sway—wi’ the King of Naples
To give him annual tribute, do him homage,
Subject his coronet to his crown, and bend
The dukedom yet unbow’d—alas, poor Milan!—        132
To most ignoble stooping.
  Mir.        O the heavens!
  Pros.  Mark his condition and the event, then tell me
If this might be a brother.        136
  Mir.        I should sin
To think but nobly of my grandmother.
Good wombs have borne bad sons.
  Pros.        Now the condition.        140
This King of Naples, being an enemy
To me inveterate, hearkens my brother’s suit;
Which was, that he, in lieu o’ the premises 12
Of homage and I know not how much tribute,        144
Should presently extirpate me and mine
Out of the dukedom, and confer fair Milan
With all the honours on my brother; whereon,
A treacherous army levied, one midnight        148
Fated to the purpose did Antonio open
The gates of Milan; and, i’ the dead of darkness,
The ministers for the purpose hurried thence
Me and thy crying self.        152
  Mir.        Alack, for pity!
I, not rememb’ring how I cried out then,
Will cry it o’er again. It is a hint 13
That wrings mine eyes to ’t.        156
  Pros.        Hear a little further,
And then I’ll bring thee to the present business
Which now’s upon ’s, without the which this story
Were most impertinent. 14        160
  Mir.        Wherefore did they not
That hour destroy us?
  Pros.        Well demanded, wench;
My tale provokes that question. Dear, they durst not        164
(So dear the love my people bore me) set
A mark so bloody on the business; but
With colours fairer painted their foul ends.
In few, they hurried us aboard a bark,        168
Bore us some leagues to sea; where they prepared
A rotten carcass of a butt, 15 not rigg’d,
Nor tackle, sail, nor mast; the very rats
Instinctively have quit it. There they hoist us,        172
To cry to the sea that roar’d to us, to sigh
To the winds whose pity, sighing back again,
Did us but loving wrong.
  Mir.        Alack, what trouble        176
Was I then to you!
  Pros.        O, a cherubin
Thou wast that did preserve me. Thou didst smile,
Infused with a fortitude from heaven,        180
When I have deck’d the sea with drops full salt,
Under my burden groan’d; which rais’d in me
An undergoing 16 stomach, to bear up
Against what should ensue.        184
  Mir.        How came we ashore?
  Pros.  By Providence divine.
Some food we had and some fresh water that
A noble Neapolitan, Gonzalo,        188
Out of his charity, who being then appointed
Master of this design, did give us, with
Rich garments, linens, stuffs, and necessaries,
Which since have steaded much; 17 so, of his gentleness,        192
Knowing I lov’d my books, he furnish’d me
From mine own library with volumes that
I prize above my dukedom.
  Mir.        Would I might        196
But ever see that man!
  Pros.        Now I arise.  [Puts on his robe.]
Sit still, and hear the last of our sea-sorrow.
Here in this island we arriv’d; and here        200
Have I, thy schoolmaster, made thee more profit
Than other princess can that have more time
For vainer hours, and tutors not so careful.
  Mir.  Heavens thank you for ’t! And now, I pray you, sir,        204
For still ’tis beating in my mind, your reason
For raising this sea-storm?
  Pros.        Know thus far forth.
By accident most strange, bountiful Fortune,        208
Now my dear lady, hath mine enemies
Brought to this shore; and by my prescience
I find my zenith 18 doth depend upon
A most auspicious star, whose influence        212
If now I court not but omit, my fortunes
Will ever after droop. Here cease more questions.
Thou art inclin’d to sleep; ’tis a good dulness,
And give it way. I know thou canst not choose.  [MIRANDA sleeps.]        216
Come away, servant, come; I am ready now.
Approach, my Ariel; come.

  Ari.  All hail, great master! grave sir, hail! I come
To answer thy best pleasure, be ’t to fly,        220
To swim, to dive into the fire, to ride
On the curl’d clouds. To thy strong bidding task
Ariel and all his quality. 19
  Pros.        Hast thou, spirit,        224
Perform’d to point 20 the tempest that I bade thee?
  Ari.  To every article.
I boarded the king’s ship; now on the beak,
Now in the waist, the deck, in every cabin,        228
I flam’d amazement. Sometime I’d divide,
And burn in many places. On the topmast,
The yards and bowsprit, would I flame distinctly,
Then meet and join. Jove’s lightnings, the precursors        232
O’ the dreadful thunder-claps, more momentary
And sight-outrunning were not; the fire and cracks
Of sulphurous roaring the most mighty Neptune
Seem to besiege, and make his bold waves tremble,        236
Yea, his dread trident shake.
  Pros.        My brave spirit!
Who was so firm, so constant, that this coil 21
Would not infect his reason?        240
  Ari.        Not a soul
But felt a fever of the mad, and play’d
Some tricks of desperation. All but mariners
Plung’d in the foaming brine and quit the vessel,        244
Then all afire with me. The King’s son, Ferdinand,
With hair up-staring,—then like reeds, not hair,—
Was the first man that leap’d; cried, “Hell is empty,
And all the devils are here.”        248
  Pros.        Why, that’s my spirit!
But was not this nigh shore?
  Ari.        Close by, my master.
  Pros.  But are they, Ariel, safe?        252
  Ari.        Not a hair perish’d;
On their sustaining garments not a blemish,
But fresher than before; and, as thou bad’st me,
In troops I have dispers’d them ’bout the isle.        256
The King’s son have I landed by himself,
Whom I left cooling of the air with sighs
In an odd angle of the isle, and sitting,
His arms in this sad knot.        260
  Pros.        Of the King’s ship
The mariners say how thou hast dispos’d,
And all the rest o’ the fleet.
  Ari.        Safely in harbour        264
Is the King’s ship; in the deep nook, where once
Thou call’dst me up at midnight to fetch dew
From the still-vex’d Bermoothes, there she’s hid;
The mariners all under hatches stow’d,        268
Who, with a charm join’d to their suff’red labour,
I have left asleep; and for the rest o’ the fleet,
Which I dispers’d, they all have met again,
And are upon the Mediterranean float 22        272
Bound sadly home for Naples,
Supposing that they saw the King’s ship wreck’d
And his great person perish.
  Pros.        Ariel, thy charge        276
Exactly is perform’d; but there’s more work.
What is the time o’ the day?
  Ari.        Past the mid season.
  Pros.  At least two glasses. The time ’twixt six and now Must by us both be spent most preciously.        280
  Ari.  Is there more toil? Since thou dost give me pains,
Let me remember thee what thou hast promis’d,
Which is not yet perform’d me.
  Pros.        How now? moody?        284
What is ’t thou canst demand?
  Ari.        My liberty.
  Pros.  Before the time be out? No more!
  Ari.        I prithee,        288
Remember I have done thee worthy service,
Told thee no lies, made thee no mistakings, serv’d
Without or grudge or grumblings. Thou did promise
To bate 23 me a full year.        292
  Pros.        Dost thou forget
From what a torment I did free thee?
  Ari.        No.
  Pros.  Thou dost, and think’st it much to tread the ooze        296
Of the salt deep,
To run upon the sharp wind of the north,
To do me business in the veins o’ the earth
When it is bak’d with frost.        300
  Ari.        I do not, sir.
  Pros.  Thou liest, malignant thing! Hast thou forgot
The foul witch Sycorax, who with age and envy
Was grown into a hoop? Hast thou forgot her?        304
  Ari.  No, sir.
  Pros.        Thou hast. Where was she born? Speak; tell me.
  Ari.  Sir, in Argier. 24
  Pros.        O, was she so? I must        308
Once in a month recount what thou hast been,
Which thou forget’st. This damn’d witch Sycorax,
For mischiefs manifold and sorceries terrible
To enter human hearing, from Argier,        312
Thou know’st, was banish’d; for one thing she did
They would not take her life. Is not this true?
  Ari.  Ay, sir.
  Pros.  This blue-ey’d hag was hither brought with child,        316
And here was left by the sailors. Thou, my slave,
As thou report’st thyself, was then her servant;
And, for thou wast a spirit too delicate
To act her earthy and abhorr’d commands,        320
Refusing her grand hests, 25 she did confine thee,
By help of her more potent ministers
And in her most unmitigable rage,
Into a cloven pine; within which rift        324
Imprison’d thou didst painfully remain
A dozen years; within which space she died
And left thee there, where thou didst vent thy groans
As fast as mill-wheels strike. Then was this island—        328
Save for the son that she did litter here,
A freckl’d whelp, hag-born,—not honour’d with
A human shape.
  Ari.        Yes, Caliban her son.        332
  Pros.  Dull thing, I say so; he, that Caliban
Whom now I keep in service. Thou best know’st
What torment I did find thee in; thy groans
Did make wolves howl, and penetrate the breasts        336
Of ever angry bears. It was a torment
To lay upon the damn’d, which Sycorax
Could not again undo. It was mine art,
When I arriv’d and heard thee, that made gape        340
The pine, and let thee out.
  Ari.        I thank thee, master.
  Pros.  If thou more murmur’st, I will rend an oak
And peg thee in his knotty entrails till        344
Thou hast howl’d away twelve winters.
  Ari.        Pardon, master;
I will be correspondent 26 to command
And do my spiriting gently.        348
  Pros.        Do so, and after two days
I will discharge thee.
  Ari.        That’s my noble master!
What shall I do? say what. What shall I do?        352
  Pros.  Go make thyself like a nymph o’ the sea; be subject
To no sight but thine and mine, invisible
To every eyeball else. Go take this shape
And hither come in ’t. Go, hence with diligence!  Exit ARIEL.        356
Awake, dear heart, awake! Thou hast slept well;
  Mir.    The strangeness of your story put
Heaviness in me.        360
  Pros.        Shake it off. Come on,
We’ll visit Caliban my slave, who never
Yields us kind answer.
  Mir.        ’Tis a villain, sir,        364
I do not love to look on.
  Pros.        But, as ’tis,
We cannot miss him. He does make our fire,
Fetch in our wood, and serves in offices        368
That profit us. What, ho! slave! Caliban!
Thou earth, thou! speak.
  Cal.        (Within.) There’s wood enough within.
  Pros.  Come forth, I say! there’s other business for thee.        372
Come, thou tortoise! when?
Re-enter ARIEL like a water-nymph

Fine apparition! My quaint Ariel,
Hark in thine ear.
  Ari.        My lord, it shall be done.  Exit.        376
  Pros.  Thou poisonous slave, got by the devil himself
Upon thy wicked dam, come forth!

  Cal.  As wicked dew as e’er my mother brush’d
With raven’s feather from unwholesome fen        380
Drop on you both! A south-west blow on ye
And blister you all o’er!
  Pros.  For this, be sure, to-night thou shalt have cramps,
Side-stitches that shall pen thy breath up; urchins 27        384
Shall, for that vast 28 of night that they may work,
All exercise on thee; thou shalt be pinch’d
As thick as honeycomb, each pinch more stinging
Than bees that made ’em.        388
  Cal.        I must eat my dinner.
This island’s mine, by Sycorax my mother,
Which thou tak’st from me. When thou cam’st first
Thou strok’dst me and made much of me, wouldst give me        392
Water with berries in ’t, and teach me how
To name the bigger light, and how the less,
That burn by day and night; and then I lov’d thee
And show’d thee all the qualities o’ the isle,        396
The fresh springs, brine-pits, barren place and fertile.
Curs’d be I that did so! All the charms
Of Sycorax, toads, beetles, bats, light on you!
For I am all the subjects that you have,        400
Which first was mine own king; and here you sty me
In this hard rock, whiles you do keep from me
The rest o’ the island.
  Pros.        Thou most lying slave,        404
Whom stripes may move, not kindness! I have us’d thee,
Filth as thou art, with human care, and lodg’d thee
In mine own cell, till thou didst seek to violate
The honour of my child.        408
  Cal.  O ho, O ho! would ’t had been done!
Thou didst prevent me; I had peopl’d else
This isle with Calibans.
  [Pros.]        Abhorred slave,        412
Which any print of goodness wilt not take,
Being capable of all ill! I pitied thee,
Took pains to make thee speak, taught thee each hour
One thing or other. When thou didst not, savage,        416
Know thine own meaning, but wouldst gabble like
A thing most brutish, I endow’d thy purposes
With words that made them known. But thy vile race,
Though thou didst learn, had that in ’t which good natures        420
Could not abide to be with; therefore wast thou
Deservedly confin’d into this rock,
Who hadst deserv’d more than a prison.
  Cal.  You taught me language; and my profit on ’t        424
Is, I know how to curse. The red plague rid you
For learning me your language!
  Pros.        Hag-seed, hence!
Fetch us in fuel; and be quick, thou ’rt best,        428
To answer other business. Shrug’st thou, malice?
If thou neglect’st or dost unwillingly
What I command, I’ll rack thee with old cramps,
Fill all thy bones with aches, make thee roar        432
That beasts shall tremble at thy din.
  Cal.        No, pray thee.
[Aside.]  I must obey. His art is of such power
It would control my dam’s god, Setebos,        436
And make a vassal of him.
  Pros.        So, slave; hence!  Exit CALIBAN
Re-enter ARIEL, invisible, playing and singing; FERDINAND [following]
Come unto these yellow sands,
    And then take hands.
Curtsied when you have, and kiss’d
    The wild waves whist, 29
Foot it featly 30 here and there,
And, sweet sprites, the burden bear.
    Burden  (dispersedly).  Hark, hark!        440
        The watch-dogs bark!
  Ari.  Hark, hark! I hear
        The strain of strutting chanticleer
Cry, “Cock-a-diddle-dow.”
  Fer.  Where should this music be? I’ the air or the earth?
It sounds no more; and, sure, it waits upon
Some god o’ the island. Sitting on a bank,
Weeping again the King my father’s wreck,        448
This music crept by me upon the waters,
Allaying both their fury and my passion
With its sweet air; thence I have follow’d it,
Or it hath drawn me rather. But ’tis gone.        452
No, it begins again.
Full fathom five thy father lies;
Of his bones are coral made;
Those are pearls that were his eyes:
Nothing of him that doth fade
But doth suffer a sea-change
Into something rich and strange.
Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell:
    Burden  Ding-dong.
  [Ari.]    Hark! now I hear them,—ding-dong, bell.
  Fer.  The ditty does remember my drown’d father.        456
This is no mortal business, nor no sound
That the earth owes. I hear it now above me.
  Pros.  The fringed curtains of thine eye advance
And say what thou seest yond.        460
  Mir.        What is ’t? A spirit?
Lord, how it looks about! Believe me, sir,
It carries a brave form. But ’tis a spirit.
  Pros.  No, wench; it eats and sleeps and hath such senses        464
As we have, such. This gallant which thou seest
Was in the wreck; and, but he’s something stain’d
With grief, that’s beauty’s canker, thou mightst call him
A goodly person. He hath lost his fellows        468
And strays about to find ’em.
  Mir.        I might call him
A thing divine; for nothing natural
I ever saw so noble.        472
  Pros.    [Aside.]    It goes on, I see,
As my soul prompts it. Spirit, fine spirit! I’ll free thee
Within two days for this.
  Fer.        Most sure, the goddess        476
On whom these airs attend! Vouchsafe my prayer
May know if you remain upon this island,
And that you will some good instruction give
How I may bear me here. My prime request,        480
Which I do last pronounce, is, O you wonder!
If you be maid or no?
  Mir.        No wonder, sir,
But certainly a maid.        484
  Fer.        My language! heavens!
I am the best of them that speak this speech,
Were I but where ’tis spoken.
  Pros.        How? the best?        488
What wert thou, if the King of Naples heard thee?
  Fer.  A single thing, as I am now, that wonders
To hear thee speak of Naples. He does hear me;
And that he does I weep. Myself am Naples,        492
Who with mine eyes, never since at ebb, beheld
The King my father wreck’d.
  Mir.        Alack, for mercy!
  Fer.  Yes, faith, and all his lords; the Duke of Milan        496
And his brave son being twain.
  Pros.      [Aside.]  The Duke of Milan
And his more braver daughter could control thee,
If now ’twere fit to do ’t. At the first sight        500
They have chang’d eyes. Delicate Ariel,
I’ll set thee free for this. [To FER.] A word, good sir;
I fear you have done yourself some wrong; a word.
  Mir.  Why speaks my father so ungently? This        504
Is the third man that e’er I saw, the first
That e’er I sigh’d for. Pity move my father
To be inclin’d my way!
  Fer.        O, if a virgin,        508
And your affection not gone forth, I’ll make you
The Queen of Naples.
  Pros.        Soft, sir! one word more.
  [Aside.]  They are both in either’s powers; but this swift business        512
I must uneasy make, lest too light winning
Make the prize light. [To FER.] One word more; I charge thee
That thou attend me. Thou dost here usurp
The name thou ow’st not; and hast put thyself        516
Upon this island as a spy, to win it
From me, the lord on ’t.
  Fer.        No, as I am a man.
  Mir.  There’s nothing ill can dwell in such a temple.        520
If the ill spirit have so fair a house,
Good things will strive to dwell with ’t.
  Pros.        Follow me.
Speak not you for him; he’s a traitor. Come,        524
I’ll manacle thy neck and feet together.
Sea-water shalt thou drink; thy food shall be
The fresh-brook mussels, wither’d roots and husks
Wherein the acorn cradled. Follow.        528
  Fer.        No;
I will resist such entertainment till
Mine enemy has more power.  He draws, and is charmed from moving.
  Mir.        O dear father,        532
Make not too rash a trial of him, for
He’s gentle and not fearful. 31
  Pros.        What! I say;
My foot my tutor? Put thy sword up, traitor,        536
Who mak’st a show but dar’st not strike, thy conscience
Is so possess’d with guilt. Come from thy ward,
For I can here disarm thee with this stick
And make thy weapon drop.        540
  Mir.        Beseech you, father.
  Pros.  Hence! hang not on my garments.
  Mir.        Sir, have pity.
I’ll be his surety.        544
  Pros.        Silence! one word more
Shall make me chide thee, if not hate thee. What!
An advocate for an impostor! hush!
Thou think’st there is no more such shapes as he,        548
Having seen but him and Caliban. Foolish wench!
To the most of men this is a Caliban,
And they to him are angels.
  Mir.        My affections        552
Are then most humble; I have no ambition
To see a goodlier man.
  Pros.        Come on; obey.
Thy nerves 32 are in their infancy again        556
And have no vigour in them.
  Fer.        So they are.
My spirits, as in a dream, are all bound up.
My father’s loss, the weakness which I feel,        560
The wreck of all my friends, nor this man’s threats,
To whom I am subdu’d, are but light to me,
Might I but through my prison once a day
Behold this maid. All corners else o’ the earth        564
Let liberty make use of; space enough
Have I in such a prison.
  Pros.  [Aside.]  It works. [To FER.] Come on.
—Thou hast done well, fine Ariel! [To FER.] Follow me.        568
[To ARI.]  Hark what thou else shalt do me.
  Mir.        Be of comfort;
My father’s of a better nature, sir,
Than he appears by speech. This is unwonted        572
Which now came from him.
  Pros.        [To ARI.]  Thou shalt be as free
As mountain winds; but then exactly do
All points of my command.        576
  Ari.        To the syllable.
  Pros.[To MIR. and FER.]  Come, follow. Speak not for him.  Exeunt.
Note 1. Composing the freight. [back]
Note 2. Depth. [back]
Note 3. Trouble. [back]
Note 4. Management. [back]
Note 5. Lordships. [back]
Note 6. To check for excessive ambition. [back]
Note 7. Seclusion. [back]
Note 8. Was more valuable than popularity. [back]
Note 9. Without. [back]
Note 10. From being deputy. [back]
Note 11. Thirsty. [back]
Note 12. In return for the conditions. [back]
Note 13. Occasion, suggestion. [back]
Note 14. Not to the purpose. [back]
Note 15. Old tub, hulk. [back]
Note 16. Enduring. [back]
Note 17. Stood in good stead. [back]
Note 18. The highest point in my fortunes. [back]
Note 19. Power. [back]
Note 20. Not to the purpose. [back]
Note 21. Turmoil. [back]
Note 22. Sea. [back]
Note 23. Reduce my service. [back]
Note 24. Algiers. [back]
Note 25. Commands. [back]
Note 26. Responsive. [back]
Note 27. Elves in the form of hedgehogs. [back]
Note 28. Empty stretch. [back]
Note 29. Silent. [back]
Note 30. Nimbly. [back]
Note 31. Nobly-born and no coward. [back]
Note 32. Sinews. [back]


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