Speeches (Lines) for Alonso
in "Tempest"

Total: 40

# Act, Scene, Line
(Click to see in context)
Speech text



Boatswain. Heigh, my hearts! cheerly, cheerly, my hearts!
yare, yare! Take in the topsail. Tend to the
master's whistle. Blow, till thou burst thy wind,
if room enough!
GONZALO, and others]

Alonso. Good boatswain, have care. Where's the master?
Play the men.



Gonzalo. Beseech you, sir, be merry; you have cause,
So have we all, of joy; for our escape
Is much beyond our loss. Our hint of woe
Is common; every day some sailor's wife,
The masters of some merchant and the merchant
Have just our theme of woe; but for the miracle,
I mean our preservation, few in millions
Can speak like us: then wisely, good sir, weigh
Our sorrow with our comfort.

Alonso. Prithee, peace.



Antonio. Fie, what a spendthrift is he of his tongue!

Alonso. I prithee, spare.



Gonzalo. When I wore it at your daughter's marriage?

Alonso. You cram these words into mine ears against
The stomach of my sense. Would I had never
Married my daughter there! for, coming thence,
My son is lost and, in my rate, she too,
Who is so far from Italy removed
I ne'er again shall see her. O thou mine heir
Of Naples and of Milan, what strange fish
Hath made his meal on thee?



Francisco. Sir, he may live:
I saw him beat the surges under him,
And ride upon their backs; he trod the water,
Whose enmity he flung aside, and breasted
The surge most swoln that met him; his bold head
'Bove the contentious waves he kept, and oar'd
Himself with his good arms in lusty stroke
To the shore, that o'er his wave-worn basis bow'd,
As stooping to relieve him: I not doubt
He came alive to land.

Alonso. No, no, he's gone.



Sebastian. Sir, you may thank yourself for this great loss,
That would not bless our Europe with your daughter,
But rather lose her to an African;
Where she at least is banish'd from your eye,
Who hath cause to wet the grief on't.

Alonso. Prithee, peace.



Sebastian. You were kneel'd to and importuned otherwise
By all of us, and the fair soul herself
Weigh'd between loathness and obedience, at
Which end o' the beam should bow. We have lost your
I fear, for ever: Milan and Naples have
More widows in them of this business' making
Than we bring men to comfort them:
The fault's your own.

Alonso. So is the dear'st o' the loss.



Gonzalo. And,—do you mark me, sir?

Alonso. Prithee, no more: thou dost talk nothing to me.



(stage directions). [All sleep except ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, and ANTONIO]

Alonso. What, all so soon asleep! I wish mine eyes
Would, with themselves, shut up my thoughts: I find
They are inclined to do so.



Antonio. We two, my lord,
Will guard your person while you take your rest,
And watch your safety.

Alonso. Thank you. Wondrous heavy.



(stage directions). [They wake]

Alonso. Why, how now? ho, awake! Why are you drawn?
Wherefore this ghastly looking?



Sebastian. Whiles we stood here securing your repose,
Even now, we heard a hollow burst of bellowing
Like bulls, or rather lions: did't not wake you?
It struck mine ear most terribly.

Alonso. I heard nothing.



Antonio. O, 'twas a din to fright a monster's ear,
To make an earthquake! sure, it was the roar
Of a whole herd of lions.

Alonso. Heard you this, Gonzalo?



Gonzalo. Upon mine honour, sir, I heard a humming,
And that a strange one too, which did awake me:
I shaked you, sir, and cried: as mine eyes open'd,
I saw their weapons drawn: there was a noise,
That's verily. 'Tis best we stand upon our guard,
Or that we quit this place; let's draw our weapons.

Alonso. Lead off this ground; and let's make further search
For my poor son.



Gonzalo. Heavens keep him from these beasts!
For he is, sure, i' the island.

Alonso. Lead away.



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.



(stage directions). [Solemn and strange music]

Alonso. What harmony is this? My good friends, hark!



Gonzalo. Marvellous sweet music!
[Enter PROSPERO above, invisible. Enter several]
strange Shapes, bringing in a banquet;
they dance about it with gentle actions of
salutation; and, inviting the King, &c. to
eat, they depart]

Alonso. Give us kind keepers, heavens! What were these?



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

Alonso. 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.



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

Alonso. Not I.



Gonzalo. Faith, sir, you need not fear. When we were boys,
Who would believe that there were mountaineers
Dew-lapp'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.

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



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

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' the ooze is bedded, and
I'll seek him deeper than e'er plummet sounded
And with him there lie mudded.



Prospero. Behold, sir king,
The wronged Duke of Milan, Prospero:
For more assurance that a living prince
Does now speak to thee, I embrace thy body;
And to thee and thy company I bid
A hearty welcome.

Alonso. Whether thou best he or no,
Or some enchanted trifle to abuse me,
As late I have been, I not know: thy pulse
Beats as of flesh and blood; and, since I saw thee,
The affliction of my mind amends, with which,
I fear, a madness held me: this must crave,
An if this be at all, a most strange story.
Thy dukedom I resign and do entreat
Thou pardon me my wrongs. But how should Prospero
Be living and be here?



Prospero. No.
For you, most wicked sir, whom to call brother
Would even infect my mouth, I do forgive
Thy rankest fault; all of them; and require
My dukedom of thee, which perforce, I know,
Thou must restore.

Alonso. If thou be'st Prospero,
Give us particulars of thy preservation;
How thou hast met us here, who three hours since
Were wreck'd upon this shore; where I have lost—
How sharp the point of this remembrance is!—
My dear son Ferdinand.



Prospero. I am woe for't, sir.

Alonso. Irreparable is the loss, and patience
Says it is past her cure.



Prospero. I rather think
You have not sought her help, of whose soft grace
For the like loss I have her sovereign aid
And rest myself content.

Alonso. You the like loss!



Prospero. As great to me as late; and, supportable
To make the dear loss, have I means much weaker
Than you may call to comfort you, for I
Have lost my daughter.

Alonso. A daughter?
O heavens, that they were living both in Naples,
The king and queen there! that they were, I wish
Myself were mudded in that oozy bed
Where my son lies. When did you lose your daughter?



Miranda. Yes, for a score of kingdoms you should wrangle,
And I would call it, fair play.

Alonso. If this prove
A vision of the Island, one dear son
Shall I twice lose.



(stage directions). [Kneels]

Alonso. Now all the blessings
Of a glad father compass thee about!
Arise, and say how thou camest here.



Prospero. 'Tis new to thee.

Alonso. What is this maid with whom thou wast at play?
Your eld'st acquaintance cannot be three hours:
Is she the goddess that hath sever'd us,
And brought us thus together?



Ferdinand. Sir, she is mortal;
But by immortal Providence she's mine:
I chose her when I could not ask my father
For his advice, nor thought I had one. She
Is daughter to this famous Duke of Milan,
Of whom so often I have heard renown,
But never saw before; of whom I have
Received a second life; and second father
This lady makes him to me.

Alonso. I am hers:
But, O, how oddly will it sound that I
Must ask my child forgiveness!



Gonzalo. I have inly wept,
Or should have spoke ere this. Look down, you god,
And on this couple drop a blessed crown!
For it is you that have chalk'd forth the way
Which brought us hither.

Alonso. I say, Amen, Gonzalo!



Gonzalo. Was Milan thrust from Milan, that his issue
Should become kings of Naples? O, rejoice
Beyond a common joy, and set it down
With gold on lasting pillars: In one voyage
Did Claribel her husband find at Tunis,
And Ferdinand, her brother, found a wife
Where he himself was lost, Prospero his dukedom
In a poor isle and all of us ourselves
When no man was his own.

Alonso. [To FERDINAND and MIRANDA] Give me your hands:
Let grief and sorrow still embrace his heart
That doth not wish you joy!



Prospero. [Aside to ARIEL] My tricksy spirit!

Alonso. These are not natural events; they strengthen
From strange to stranger. Say, how came you hither?



Prospero. [Aside to ARIEL] Bravely, my diligence. Thou shalt be free.

Alonso. This is as strange a maze as e'er men trod
And there is in this business more than nature
Was ever conduct of: some oracle
Must rectify our knowledge.



Caliban. I shall be pinch'd to death.

Alonso. Is not this Stephano, my drunken butler?



Sebastian. He is drunk now: where had he wine?

Alonso. And Trinculo is reeling ripe: where should they
Find this grand liquor that hath gilded 'em?
How camest thou in this pickle?



Stephano. I should have been a sore one then.

Alonso. This is a strange thing as e'er I look'd on.



Prospero. Go to; away!

Alonso. Hence, and bestow your luggage where you found it.



Prospero. Sir, I invite your highness and your train
To my poor cell, where you shall take your rest
For this one night; which, part of it, I'll waste
With such discourse as, I not doubt, shall make it
Go quick away; the story of my life
And the particular accidents gone by
Since I came to this isle: and in the morn
I'll bring you to your ship and so to Naples,
Where I have hope to see the nuptial
Of these our dear-beloved solemnized;
And thence retire me to my Milan, where
Every third thought shall be my grave.

Alonso. I long
To hear the story of your life, which must
Take the ear strangely.

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