World Lit Part 3

Compact Anthology of World Literature be reported to the King his Lord. The Admiral made those who were in the caravel bear witness to what he said, calling to the captain and all the others, and promising that he would not leave the caravel until a hundred Portu- guese had been taken to Castille, and all that island had been laid waste. He then returned to anchor in the port where he was first, the wind being very unfavourable for doing anything else. Wednesday, 20th of February The Admiral ordered the ship to be repaired, and the casks to be filled alongside for ballast. This was a very bad port, and he feared he might have to cut the cables. This was so, and he made sail for the island of San Miguel; but there is no good port in any of the Azores for the weather they then experienced, and there was no other remedy but to go to sea. Thursday, 21st of February Yesterday the Admiral left that island of Santa Maria for that of San Miguel, to see if a port could be found to shelter his vessel from the bad weather. There was much wind and a high sea, and he was sailing until night with- out being able to see either one land or the other, owing to the thick weather caused by wind and sea. The Admiral says he was in much anxiety, because he only had three sailors who knew their business, the rest knowing nothing of seamanship. He was lying-to all that night, in great danger and trouble. Our Lord showed him mercy in that the waves came in one direction, for if there had been a cross sea they would have suffered much more. After sunrise the island of San Miguel was not in sight, so the Admiral determined to return to Santa Maria, to see if he could recover his people and boat, and the anchors and cables he had left there. The Admiral says that he was astonished at the bad weather he encountered in the region of these islands. In the Indies he had navigated throughout the winter without the necessity for anchoring, and always had fine weath- er, never having seen the sea for a single hour in such a state that it could not be navigated easily. But among these islands he had suffered from such terrible storms. The same had happened in going out as far as the Canary Islands, but as soon as they were passed there was always fine weather, both in sea and air. In concluding these remarks, he observes that the sacred theologians and wise men said well when they placed the terrestrial paradise in the Far East, because it is a most temperate region. Hence these lands that he had now discovered must, he says, be in the extreme East. Friday, 22nd of February Yesterday the Admiral came-to off Santa Maria, in the place or port where he had first anchored. Presently a man came down to some rocks at the edge of the beach, hailing that they were not to remain there. Soon afterwards the boat came with five sailors, two priests, and a scrivener. They asked for safety, and when it was granted by the Admiral, they came on board, and, as it was night they slept on board, the Admiral showing them all the civility he could. In the morning they asked to be shown the authority of the Sovereigns of Castille, by which the voyage had been made. The Admiral felt that they did this to give some colour of right to what they had done, and to show that they had right on their side. As they were unable to secure the person of the Admiral, whom they intended to get into their power when they came with the boat armed, they now feared that their game might not turn out so well, thinking, with some fear, of what the Admiral had threatened, and which he proposed to put into execution. In order to get his people released, the Admiral displayed the general letter of the Sovereigns to all Princes and Lords, and other documents, and having given them of what he had, the Portuguese went on shore contented, and pres- ently released all the crew and the boat. The Admiral heard from them that if he had been captured also, they never would have been released, for the captain said that those were the orders of the King his Lord. Saturday, 23rd of February Yesterday the weather began to improve, and the Admiral got under weigh to seek a better anchorage, where he could take in wood and stones for ballast; but he did not find one until late. Sunday, 24th of February He anchored yesterday in the afternoon, to take in wood and stones, but the sea was so rough that they could not land from the boat, and during the first watch it came on to blow from the west and S.W. He ordered sail to be made, owing to the great danger there is off these islands in being at anchor with a southerly gale, and as the wind was S.W. it would go round to south. As it was a good wind for Castille, he gave up his intention of taking in wood and stones, 238

The Journals of Christopher Columbus and shaped an easterly course until sunset, going seven miles an hour for six hours and a half, equal to 45 1/2 miles. After sunset he made six miles an hour, or 66 miles in eleven hours, altogether 111 miles, equal to 28 leagues. Monday, 25th of February Yesterday, after sunset, the caravel went at the rate ot five miles an hour on an easterly course, and in the eleven hours of the night she made 65 miles, equal to 16 1/4 leagues. From sunrise to sunset they made another 16 1/2 leagues with a smooth sea, thanks be to God. A very large bird, like an eagle, came to the caravel. Tuesday, 26th of February Yesterday night the caravel steered her course in a smooth sea, thanks be to God. Most of the time she was going eight miles an hour, and made a hundred miles, equal to 25 leagues. After sunrise there was little wind and some rain-showers. They made about 8 leagues E.N.E. Wednesday, 27th of February During the night and day she was off her course, owing to contrary winds and a heavy sea. She was found to be 125 leagues from Cape St. Vincent, and 80 from the island of Madeira, 106 from Santa Maria. It was very trouble- some to have such bad weather just when they were at the very door of their home. Thursday, 28th of February The same weather during the night, with the wind from south and S.E., sometimes shifting to N.E. and E.N.E., and it was the same all day. Friday, 1st of March To-night the course was E.N.E., and they made twelve leagues. During the day, 23 1/2 leagues on the same course. Saturday, 2nd of March The course was E.N.E., and distance made good 28 leagues during the night, and 20 in the day. Sunday, 3rd of March After sunset the course was east; but a squall came down, split all the sails, and the vessel was in great danger; but God was pleased to deliver them. They drew lots for sending a pilgrim in a shirt to Santa Maria de la Cinta at Huelva, and the lot fell on the Admiral. The whole crew also made a vow to fast on bread and water during the first Saturday after their arrival in port. They had made 60 miles before the sails were split. Afterwards they ran under bare poles, owing to the force of the gale and the heavy sea. They saw signs of the neighbourhood of land, finding themselves near Lisbon. Monday, 4th of March During the night they were exposed to a terrible storm, expecting to be overwhelmed by the cross seas, while the wind seemed to raise the caravel into the air, and there was rain and lightning in several directions. The Admiral prayed to our Lord to preserve them, and in the first watch it pleased our Lord to show land, which was reported by the sailors. As it was advisable not to reach it before it was known whether there was any port to which he could run for shelter, the Admiral set the mainsail, as there was no other course but to proceed, though in great danger. Thus God preserved them until daylight, though all the time they were in infinite fear and trouble. When it was light, the Admiral knew the land, which was the rock of Cintra, near the river of Lisbon, and he resolved to run in because there was nothing else to be done. So terrible was the storm, that in the village of Cascaes, at the mouth of the river, the people were praying for the little vessel all that morning. After they were inside, the people came off, looking upon their escape as a miracle. At the third hour they passed Rastelo, within the river of Lisbon, where they were told that such a winter, with so many storms, had never before been known, and that 25 ships had been lost in Flanders, while others had been wind-bound in the river for four months. Presently the Admiral wrote to the King of Portugal, who was then at a distance of nine leagues, to state that the Sovereigns of Castille had ordered him to 239

Compact Anthology of World Literature enter the ports of his Highness, and ask for what he required for payment, and requesting that the King would give permission for the caravel to come to Lisbon, because some ruffians, hearing that he had much gold on board, might attempt a robbery in an unfrequented port, knowing that they did not come from Guinea, but from the Indies. Tuesday, 5th of March To-day the great ship of the King of Portugal was also at anchor off Rastelo, with the best provision of artillery and arms that the Admiral had ever seen. The master of her, named Bartolomé Diaz, of Lisbon, came in an armed boat to the caravel, and ordered the Admiral to get into the boat, to go and give an account of himself to the agents of the king and to the captain of that ship. The Admiral replied that he was the Admiral of the Sovereigns of Cas- tille, and that he would not give an account to any such persons, nor would he leave the ship except by force, as he had not the power to resist. The master replied that he must then send the master of the caravel. The Admiral answered that neither the master nor any other person should go except by force, for if he allowed anyone to go, it would be as if he went himself; and that such was the custom of the Admirals of the Sovereigns of Castille, rather to die than to submit, or to let any of their people submit. The master then moderated his tone, and told the Admiral that if that was his determination he might do as he pleased. He, however, requested that he might be shown the letters of the Kings of Castille, if they were on board. The Admiral readily showed them, and the master returned to the ship and reported what had happened to the captain, named Alvaro Dama. That officer, making great festival with trumpets and drums, came to the caravel to visit the Admiral, and offered to do all that he might require. Wednesday, 6th of March As soon as it was known that the Admiral came from the Indies, it was wonderful how many people came from Lisbon to see him and the Indians, giving thanks to our Lord, and saying that the heavenly Majesty had given all this to the Sovereigns of Castille as a reward for their faith and their great desire to serve God. Thursday, 7th of March To-day an immense number of people came to the caravel, including many knights, and amongst them the agents of the king, and all gave infinite thanks to our Lord for so wide an increase of Christianity granted by our Lord to the Sovereigns of Castille; and they said that they received it because their Highnesses had worked and laboured for the increase of the religion of Christ. Friday, 8th of March To-day the Admiral received a letter from the King of Portugal brought by Don Martin de Noroña, asking him to visit him where he was, as the weather was not suitable for the departure of the caravel. He complied, to prevent suspicion, although he did not wish to go, and went to pass the night at Sacanben. The king had given orders to his officers that all that the Admiral, his crew, and the caravel were in need of should be given without payment, and that all the Admiral wanted should be complied with. Saturday, 9th of March To-day the Admiral left Sacanben, to go where the king was residing, which was at Valparaiso, nine leagues from Lisbon. Owing to the rain, he did not arrive until night. The king caused him to be received very honourably by the principal officers of his household; and the king himself received the Admiral with great favour, making him sit down, and talking very pleasantly. He offered to give orders that everything should be done for the service of the Sovereigns of Castille, and said that the successful termination of the voyage had given him great pleasure. He said further that he understood that, in the capitulation between the Sovereigns and himself, that conquest be- longed to him. The Admiral replied that he had not seen the capitulation, nor knew more than that the Sovereigns had ordered him not to go either to Lamina or to any other port of Guinea, and that this had been ordered to be proclaimed in all the ports of Andalusia before he sailed. The king graciously replied that he held it for certain that there would be no necessity for any arbitrators. The Admiral was assigned as a guest to the Prior of Crato, who was the principal person present, and from whom he received many favours and civilities. Sunday, 10th of March To-day, after Mass, the king repeated that if the Admiral wanted anything he should have it. He conversed much with the Admiral respecting his voyage, always ordering him to sit down, and treating him with great favour. 240

The Journals of Christopher Columbus Monday, 11th of March To-day the Admiral took leave of the king, who entrusted him with some messages to the Sovereigns, and always treating him with much friendliness. He departed after dinner, Don Martin de Noroña being sent with him, and all the knights set out with him, and went with him some distance, to do him honour. Afterwards he came to a monastery of San Antonio, near a place called Villafranca, where the Queen was residing. The Admiral went to do her reverence and to kiss her hand, because she had sent to say that he was not to go without seeing her. The Duke and the Marquis were with her, and the Admiral was received with much honour. He departed at night, and went to sleep at Llandra. Tuesday, 12th of March To-day, as he was leaving Llandra to return to the caravel, an esquire of the king arrived, with an offer that if he desired to go to Castille by land, that he should be supplied with lodgings, and beasts, and all that was necessary. When the Admiral took leave of him, he ordered a mule to be supplied to him, and another for his pilot, who was with him, and he says that the pilot received a present of twenty espadines. He said this that the Sovereigns might know all that was done. He arrived on board the caravel that night. Wednesday, 13th of March To-day, at 8 o’clock, with the flood tide, and the wind N.N.W., the Admiral got under weigh and made sail for Seville. Thursday, 14th of March Yesterday, after sunset, a southerly course was steered, and before sunrise they were off Cape St. Vincent, which is in Portugal. Afterwards he shaped a course to the east for Saltes, and went on all day with little wind, “until now that the ship is off Furon.” Friday, 15th of March Yesterday, after sunset, she went on her course with little wind, and at sunrise she was off Saltes. At noon, with the tide rising, they crossed the bar of Saltes, and reached the port which they had left on the 3rd of August of the year before. The Admiral says that so ends this journal, unless it becomes necessary to go to Barcelona by sea, hav- ing received news that their Highnesses are in that city, to give an account of all his voyage which our Lord had per- mitted him to make, and saw fit to set forth in him. For, assuredly, he held with a firm and strong knowledge that his high Majesty made all things good, and that all is good except sin. Nor can he value or think of anything being done without His consent. “I know respecting this voyage”, says the Admiral, “that he has miraculously shown his will, as may be seen from this journal, setting forth the numerous miracles that have been displayed in the voyage, and in me who was so long at the court of your Highnesses, working in opposition to and against the opinions of so many chief persons of your household, who were all against me, looking upon this enterprise as folly. But I hope, in our Lord, that it will be a great benefit to Christianity, for so it has ever appeared.” These are the final words of the Admiral Don Cristoval Colon respecting his first voyage to the Indies and their discovery. The First Letter of Christopher Columbus to the Noble Lord Raphael Sanchez Announcing the Discovery of America License: Public Domain Christopher Columbus, translated by Henry W. Haynes Rome, April 1493 Letter from Christopher Colom [Columbus]: to whom our age owes much; on the recently discovered Islands of India beyond the Ganges. In the search for which he had been sent out eight months earlier under the auspices and at the expense of the most invincible Ferdinand and Helisabet [Isabella], rulers of Spain: addressed to the magnif- icent Lord Gabriel Sanchis [Sanchez] treasurer of these most serene highnesses; which the noble and learned man Leander de Cosco translated from the Spanish into Latin on the third day before the calends of May [i.e., 29 April] 1493, in the first year of the pontificate of Alexander VI. AS I know that it will afford you pleasure that I have brought my undertaking to a successful result, I have deter- mined to write you this letter to inform you of everything that has been done and discovered in this voyage of mine. 241

Compact Anthology of World Literature On the thirty-third day after leaving Cadiz I came into the Indian Sea, where I discovered many islands in- habited by numerous people. I took possession of all of them for our most fortunate King by making public proc- lamation and unfurling his standard, no one making any resistance. To the first of them I have given the name of our blessed Saviour, whose aid I have reached this and all the rest; but the Indians call it Guanahani. To each of the others also I gave a new name, ordering one to be called Sancta Maria de Concepcion, another Fernandina, another Isabella, another Juana; and so with all the rest. As soon as we reached the island which I have just said was called Juana, I sailed along its coast some considerable distance towards the West, and found it to be so large, without any apparent end, that I believed it was not an island, but a continent, a province of Cathay. But I saw neither towns nor cities lying on the seaboard, only some villages and country farms, with whose inhabitants I could not get speech, because they fled as soon as they beheld us. I continued on, supposing I should come upon some city, or coun- try-houses. At last, finding that no discoveries rewarded our further progress, and that this course was leading us towards the North, which I was desirous of avoiding, as it was now winter in these regions, and it had always been my intention to proceed Southwards, and the winds also were favorable to such desires, I concluded not to attempt any other adventures; so, turning back, I came again to a certain harbor, which I had remarked. From there I sent two of our men into the country to learn whether there was any king or cities in that land. They journeyed for three days, and found innumerable people and habitations, but small and having no fixed government; on which account they returned. Meanwhile I had learned from some Indians, whom I had seized at this place, that this country was really an island. Consequently I continued along towards the East, as much as 322 miles, always hugging the shore. Where was the very extremity of the island, from there I saw another island to the Eastwards, distant 54 miles from this Juana, which I named Hispana; and proceeded to it, and directed my course for 564 miles East by North as it were, just as I had done at Juana. The island called Juana, as well as the others in its neighborhood, is exceedingly fertile. It has numerous har- bors on all sides, very safe and wide, above comparison with any I have ever seen. Through it flow many very broad and health-giving rivers; and there are in it numerous very lofty mountains. All these island are very beautiful, and of quite different shapes; easy to be traversed, and full of the greatest variety of trees reaching to the stars. I think these never lose their leaves, and I saw them looking as green and lovely as they are wont to be in the month of May in Spain. Some of them were in leaf, and some in fruit; each flourishing in the condition its nature required. The nightingale was singing and various other little birds, when I was rambling among them in the month of November. There are also in the island called Juana seven or eight kinds of palms, which as readily surpass ours in height and beauty as do all the other trees, herbs, and fruits. There are also wonderful pinewoods, fields, and extensive mead- ows; birds of various kinds, and honey; and all the different metals, except iron. In the island, which I have said before was called Hispana, there are very lofty and beautiful mountains, great farms, groves and fields, most fertile both for cultivation and for pasturage, and well adapted for constructing buildings. The convenience of the harbors in this island, and the excellence of the rivers, in volume and salubrity, surpass human belief, unless on should see them. In it the trees, pasture-lands and fruits different much from those of Juana. Besides, this Hispana abounds in various kinds of species, gold and metals. The inhabitants of both sexes of this and of all the other island I have seen, or of which I have any knowledge, always go as naked as they came into the world, except that some of the women cover their private parts with leaves or branches, or a veil of cotton, which they prepare themselves for this purpose. They are all, as I said before, unprovided with any sort of iron, and they are destitute of arms, which are entirely unknown to them, and for which they are not adapted; not on account of any bodily deformity, for they are well made, but because they are timid and full of terror. They carry, however, canes dried in the sun in place of weapons, upon whose roots they fix a wooded shaft, dried and sharpened to a point. But they never dare to make use of these; for it has often happened, when I have sent two or three of my men to some of their villages to speak with the inhabitants, that a crowd of Indians has sallied forth; but when they saw our men approaching, they speedily took to flight, parents abandoning children, and children their parents. This happened not because any loss or injury had been inflicted upon any of them. On the contrary I gave whatever I had, cloth and many other things, to whomsoever I approached, or with whom I could get speech, without any re- turn being made to me; but they are by nature fearful and timid. But when they see that they are safe, and all fear is banished, they are very guileless and honest, and very liberal of all they have. No one refuses the asker anything that he possesses; on the contrary they themselves invite us to ask for it. They manifest the greatest affection towards all of us, exchanging valuable things for trifles, content with the very least thing or nothing at all. But I forbade giving them a very trifling thing and of no value, such as bits of plates, dishes, or glass; also nails and straps; although it seemed to them, if they could get such, that they had acquired the most beautiful jewels in the world. For it chanced that a sailor received for a single strap as much weight of gold as three sold solidi; and so others for other things of less price, especially for new blancas, and for some gold coins, for which they gave whatever they seller asked; for instance, an ounce and a half or two ounces of gold, or thirty or forty pounds of cotton, with which they were already familiar. So too for pieces of hoops, jugs, jars, and pots they bartered cotton and gold like beasts. This I for- 242

The Journals of Christopher Columbus bade, because it was plainly unjust; and I gave them many beautiful and pleasing things, which I had brought with me, for no return whatever, in order to win their affection, and that they might become Christians and inclined to love our King and Queen and Princes and all the people of Spain; and that they might be eager to search for and gather and give to us what they abound in and we greatly need. They do not practice idolatry; on the contrary, they believe that all strength, all power, in short all blessings, are from Heaven, and I have come down from there with these ships and sailors; and in this spirit was I received everywhere, after they had got over their fear. They are neither lazy nor awkward; but, on the contrary, are of an excellent and acute understanding. Those who have sailed these seas give excellent accounts of everything; but they have never seen men wearing clothes, or ships like ours. As soon as I had come into this sea, I took by force some Indians from the first island, in order that they might learn from us, and at the same time tell us what they knew about affairs in these regions. This succeeded admira- bly; for in a short time we understood them and they us both by gesture and signs and words; and they were of great service to us. They are coming now with me, and have always believed that I have come from Heaven, not- withstanding the long time they have been, and still remain, with us. They were the first who told this wherever we went, one calling to another, with a loud voice, Come, Come, you will see Men from Heaven. Whereupon both women and men, children and adults, young and old, laying aside the fear they had felt a little before, flocked eager- ly to see us, a great crowd thronging about our steps, some bringing food, and others drink, with greatest love and incredible good will. In each island are many boats made of solid wood; though narrow, yet in length and shape similar to our two-bankers, but swifter in motion, and managed by oars only. Some of them are large, some small, and some of medium size; but most are larger than a two-banker rowed by 18 oars. With these they sail to all the islands, which are innumerable; engaging in traffic and commerce with each other. I saw some of these biremes, or boats, which carried 70 or 80 rowers. In all these islands there is no difference in the appearance of the inhabitants, and none in their customs and language, so that all understand one another. This is a circumstance most favorable for what I believe our most serene King especially desires, that is, their conversion to the holy faith of Christ; for which, indeed, so far as I could understand, they are very ready and prone. I have told already how I sailed in a straight course along the island of Juana from West to East 322 miles. From this voyage and the extent of my journeyings I can say that this Juana is larger than England and Scotland together. For beyond the aforesaid 322 miles, in that portion which looks towards the West, there are two more provinces, which I did not visit. One of them the Indians call Anan, and its inhabitants are born with tails. These provinces extend 180 miles, as I learned from the Indians, whom I am bringing with me, and who are well acquainted with all these islands. The distance around Hispana is greater than all Spain from Colonia to Fontarabia; as is readily proved, because its fourth side, which I myself traversed in a straight course from West to East, stretches 540 miles. This island is to be coveted, and not to be despised when acquired. As I have already taken pos- session of all the others, as I have said, for our most invincible King, and the role over them is entirely committed to the said King, so in this one I have taken special possession of a certain large town, in a most convenient spot, well suited for all profit and commerce, to which I have given the name of the Nativity of our Lord; and there I ordered Image 11.14: The Death of Columbus | Illustration by Louis Prang & Co., depict- a fort of be built forthwith, which ought ing Columbus on his death bed, surrounded by mournful onlookers. to be finished now. In it I left as many men as seemed necessary, with all kinds Author: L. Prang & Co. of arms, and provisions sufficient for Source: Wikimedia Commons License: Public Domain 243

Compact Anthology of World Literature more than a year; also a caravel and men to build others, skilled not only in trade but in others. I secured for them the good will and remarkable friendship of the King of the island; for these people are very affectionate and kind; so much so that the aforesaid King took a pride in my being called his brother. Although they should change their minds, and wish to harm those who have remained in the fort, they cannot; because they are without arms, go naked and are too timid; so that, in truth, those who hold the aforesaid fort can lay waste the whole of that island, without any danger to themselves, provided they do not violate the rules and instructions I have given them. In all these islands, as I understand, every man is satisfied with only one wife, except the princes or kings, who are permitted to have 20. The women appear to work more than the men; but I could not well understand whether they have private property, or not; for I saw that what every one had was shared with the others, especially meals, provisions and such things. I found among them no monsters, as very many expected; but men of great deference and kind; nor are they black like Ethiopians; but they have long, straight hair. They do not dwell where the rays of Sun have most power, although the Sun’s heat is very great there, as this region is twenty-six degrees distant from the equinoctial line. From the summits of the mountains there comes great cold, but the Indians mitigate it by being inured to the weather, and by the help of very hot food, which they consume frequently and in immoderate quantities. I saw no monsters, neither did I hear accounts of any such except in an island called Charis, the second as one crosses over from Spain to India, which is inhabited by a certain race regarded by their neighbors as very ferocious. They eat human flesh, and make use of several kinds of boats by which they cross over to all the Indian islands, and plunder and carry off whatever they can. But they differ in no respect from the others except in wearing their hair long after the fashion of women. They make use of bows and arrows made of reeds, having pointed shafts fastened to the thicker portion, as we have before described. For this reason they are considered to be ferocious, and the oth- er Indians consequently are terribly afraid of them; but I consider them of no more account than the others. They have intercourse with certain women who dwell alone upon the island of Mateurin, the first as one crosses from Spain to India. These women follow none of the usual occupations of their sex; but they use bows and arrows like those of their husbands, which I have described, and protect themselves with plates of copper, which is found in the greatest abundance among them. I was informed that there is another island larger than the aforesaid Hispana, whose inhabitants have no hair; and that there is a greater abundance of gold in it than in any of the others. Some of the inhabitants of these islands and of the others I have seen I am bringing over with me to bear testimony to what I have reported. Finally, to sum up in a few words the chief results and advantages of our departure and speedy return, I make this promise to our most invincible Sovereigns, that, if I am supported by some little assistance from them, I will give them as much gold as they have need of, and in addition spices, cotton and mastic, which is found only in Chios, and as much aloes-wood, and as many heathen slaves as their majesties may choose to demand; besides these, rhubarb and other kinds of drugs, which I think the men I left in the fort before alluded to, have already discovered, or will do so; as I have delayed nowhere longer than the winds compelled me, except while I was providing for the construction of a fort in the city of Nativity, and for making all things safe. Although these matters are very wonderful and unheard of, they would have been much more so, if ships to a reasonable amount had been furnished me. But what has been accomplished is great and wonderful, and not at all proportionate to my deserts, but to the sacred Christian faith, and to the piety and religion of our Sovereigns. For what is the mind of man could not compass the spirit of God has granted to mortals. For God is wont and listen to his servants who love his precepts, even in impossibilities, as has happened to me in the present instance, who have accomplished what human strength has hitherto never attained. For if any one has written or told anything about these islands, all have done so either obscurely or by guesswork, so that if has almost seemed to be fabulous. Therefore let King and Queen and Princes, and their most fortunate realms, and all other Christian provinces, let us all return thanks to our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, who has bestowed so great a victory and reward upon us; let there be processions and solemn sacrifices prepared; let the churches be decked with festal boughs; let Christ rejoice upon Earth as he rejoices in Heaven, as he foresees that so many souls of so many people heretofore lost are to be saved; and let us be glad not only for the exaltation of our faith, but also for the increase of temporal prosperity, in which not only Spain but all Christendom is about to share. As these things have been accomplished so have they been briefly narrated. Farewell. Christopher Colom, Admiral of the Ocean Fleet Lisbon, March 14th. 244

The Prince The Prince Niccolò Machiavelli (1469-1527 C.E.) First published in 1532 C.E. Italy The Prince is written by Niccolò Machiavelli, an Italian Renaissance political philosopher, statesman, playwright, novelist, and poet. This booklet, composed of twenty-six chapters, is a political treatise offering advice to rulers on how to obtain and keep power. It is assumed that a version of the manuscript had been circulated from 1513 on, whereas it was first officially published in 1532, posthumously. Drawing lessons from the Roman historian Livy, its innovation lies in the treatise’s focus on the efficacy of ruling, a significant contrast from traditional Christian-moral- ity-based instructions for rulers. Although some had even interpreted it as a satire, the adjective “Machiavellian” has come to have a pejorative connation because of the text’s apparent indifference to moral and ethical concerns. Written by Kyounghye Kwon Selections from The Prince License: Public Domain Nicolo Machiavelli, translated by W. K. Marriott INTRODUCTION Nicolo Machiavelli was born at Florence on 3rd May 1469. He was the second son of Bernardo di Nicolo Machiavelli, a lawyer of some repute, and of Bartolommea di Stefano Nelli, his wife. Both parents were members of the old Florentine nobility. His life falls naturally into three periods, each of which singularly enough constitutes a distinct and important era in the history of Florence. His youth was concurrent with the greatness of Florence as an Italian power under the guidance of Lorenzo de’ Medici, Il Magnifico. The downfall of the Medici in Florence occurred in 1494, in which year Machiavelli entered the public service. During his official career Florence was free under the government of a Republic, which lasted until 1512, when the Medici returned to power, and Machiavelli lost his office. The Medici again ruled Florence from 1512 until 1527, when they were once more driven out. This was the period of Machiavelli’s literary activity and increasing influence; but he died, within a few weeks of the expulsion of the Medici, on 22nd June 1527, in his fifty-eighth year, without having regained office. W. K. Marriott DEDICATION Image 11.15: Machiavelli Principe Cover Page | To the Magnificent Lorenzo Di Piero De’ Medici: The cover of Machiavelli’s The Prince. Those who strive to obtain the good graces of a prince are ac- Author: User “RJC” customed to come before him with such things as they hold most Source: Wikimedia Commons precious, or in which they see him take most delight; whence License: Public Domain one sees horses, arms, cloth of gold, precious stones, and similar ornaments presented to princes, worthy of their greatness. Desiring therefore to present myself to your Magnificence with some testimony of my devotion towards you, I have not found among my possessions anything which I hold more dear than, or value so much as, the knowledge of the actions of great men, acquired by long experience in contemporary affairs, and a continual study of antiquity; which, having reflected upon it with great and prolonged diligence, I now send, digested into a little volume, to your Magnificence. 245

Compact Anthology of World Literature And although I may consider this work unworthy of your countenance, nevertheless I trust much to your benignity that it may be acceptable, seeing that it is not possible for me to make a better gift than to offer you the opportunity of understanding in the shortest time all that I have learnt in so many years, and with so many troubles and dangers; which work I have not embellished with swelling or magnificent words, nor stuffed with rounded periods, nor with any extrinsic allurements or adornments whatever, with which so many are accustomed to embellish their works; for I have wished either that no honour should be given it, or else that the truth of the matter and the weightiness of the theme shall make it acceptable. Nor do I hold with those who regard it as a presumption if a man of low and humble condition dare to discuss and settle the concerns of princes; because, just as those who draw landscapes place themselves below in the plain to contemplate the nature of the mountains and of lofty places, and in order to contemplate the plains place them- selves upon high mountains, even so to understand the nature of the people it needs to be a prince, and to under- stand that of princes it needs to be of the people. Take then, your Magnificence, this little gift in the spirit in which I send it; wherein, if it be diligently read and considered by you, you will learn my extreme desire that you should attain that greatness which fortune and your other attributes promise. And if your Magnificence from the summit of your greatness will sometimes turn your eyes to these lower regions, you will see how unmeritedly I suffer a great and continued malignity of fortune. CHAPTER X CONCERNING THE WAY IN WHICH THE STRENGTH OF ALL PRINCIPALITIES OUGHT TO BE MEASURED It is necessary to consider another point in examining the character of these principalities: that is, whether a prince has such power that, in case of need, he can support himself with his own resources, or whether he has always need of the assistance of others. And to make this quite clear I say that I consider those who are able to support themselves by their own resources who can, either by abundance of men or money, raise a sufficient army to join battle against any one who comes to attack them; and I consider those always to have need of others who cannot show themselves against the enemy in the field, but are forced to defend themselves by sheltering behind walls. The first case has been discussed, but we will speak of it again should it recur. In the second case one can say nothing except to encourage such princes to provision and fortify their towns, and not on any account to defend the country. And whoever shall fortify his town well, and shall have managed the other concerns of his subjects in the way stated above, and to be often repeated, will never be attacked without great caution, for men are always adverse to enterprises where difficulties can be seen, and it will be seen not to be an easy thing to attack one who has his town well fortified, and is not hated by his people. The cities of Germany are absolutely free, they own but little country around them, and they yield obedience to the emperor when it suits them, nor do they fear this or any other power they may have near them, because they are fortified in such a way that every one thinks the taking of them by assault would be tedious and difficult, seeing they have proper ditches and walls, they have sufficient artillery, and they always keep in public depots enough for one year’s eating, drinking, and firing. And beyond this, to keep the people quiet and without loss to the state, they always have the means of giving work to the community in those labours that are the life and strength of the city, and on the pursuit of which the people are supported; they also hold military exercises in repute, and moreover have many ordinances to uphold them. Therefore, a prince who has a strong city, and had not made himself odious, will not be attacked, or if any one should attack he will only be driven off with disgrace; again, because that the affairs of this world are so changeable, it is almost impossible to keep an army a whole year in the field without being interfered with. And whoever should reply: If the people have property outside the city, and see it burnt, they will not remain patient, and the long siege and self-interest will make them forget their prince; to this I answer that a powerful and courageous prince will overcome all such difficulties by giving at one time hope to his subjects that the evil will not be for long, at another time fear of the cruelty of the enemy, then preserving himself adroitly from those subjects who seem to him to be too bold. Further, the enemy would naturally on his arrival at once burn and ruin the country at the time when the spir- its of the people are still hot and ready for the defence; and, therefore, so much the less ought the prince to hesitate; because after a time, when spirits have cooled, the damage is already done, the ills are incurred, and there is no lon- ger any remedy; and therefore they are so much the more ready to unite with their prince, he appearing to be under obligations to them now that their houses have been burnt and their possessions ruined in his defence. For it is the nature of men to be bound by the benefits they confer as much as by those they receive. Therefore, if everything is well considered, it will not be difficult for a wise prince to keep the minds of his citizens steadfast from first to last, when he does not fail to support and defend them. 246

The Prince CHAPTER XI CONCERNING ECCLESIASTICAL PRINCIPALITIES It only remains now to speak of ecclesiastical principalities, touching which all difficulties are prior to getting possession, because they are acquired either by capacity or good fortune, and they can be held without either; for they are sustained by the ancient ordinances of religion, which are so all-powerful, and of such a character that the principalities may be held no matter how their princes behave and live. These princes alone have states and do not defend them; and they have subjects and do not rule them; and the states, although unguarded, are not taken from them, and the subjects, although not ruled, do not care, and they have neither the desire nor the ability to alienate themselves. Such principalities only are secure and happy. But being upheld by powers, to which the human mind cannot reach, I shall speak no more of them, because, being exalted and maintained by God, it would be the act of a presumptuous and rash man to discuss them. Nevertheless, if any one should ask of me how comes it that the Church has attained such greatness in temporal power, seeing that from Alexander backwards the Italian potentates (not only those who have been called poten- tates, but every baron and lord, though the smallest) have valued the temporal power very slightly—yet now a king of France trembles before it, and it has been able to drive him from Italy, and to ruin the Venetians— although this may be very manifest, it does not appear to me superfluous to recall it in some measure to memory. Before Charles, King of France, passed into Italy37, this country was under the dominion of the Pope, the Vene- tians, the King of Naples, the Duke of Milan, and the Florentines. These potentates had two principal anxieties: the one, that no foreigner should enter Italy under arms; the other, that none of themselves should seize more territo- ry. Those about whom there was the most anxiety were the Pope and the Venetians. To restrain the Venetians the union of all the others was necessary, as it was for the defence of Ferrara; and to keep down the Pope they made use of the barons of Rome, who, being divided into two factions, Orsini and Colonnesi, had always a pretext for disor- der, and, standing with arms in their hands under the eyes of the Pontiff, kept the pontificate weak and powerless. And although there might arise sometimes a courageous pope, such as Sixtus, yet neither fortune nor wisdom could rid him of these annoyances. And the short life of a pope is also a cause of weakness; for in the ten years, which is the average life of a pope, he can with difficulty lower one of the factions; and if, so to speak, one people should almost destroy the Colonnesi, another would arise hostile to the Orsini, who would support their opponents, and yet would not have time to ruin the Orsini. This was the reason why the temporal powers of the pope were little esteemed in Italy. Alexander the Sixth arose afterwards, who of all the pontiffs that have ever been showed how a pope with both money and arms was able to prevail; and through the instrumentality of the Duke Valentino, and by reason of the entry of the French, he brought about all those things which I have discussed above in the actions of the duke. And although his intention was not to aggrandize the Church, but the duke, nevertheless, what he did contributed to the greatness of the Church, which, after his death and the ruin of the duke, became the heir to all his labours. Pope Julius came afterwards and found the Church strong, possessing all the Romagna, the barons of Rome reduced to impotence, and, through the chastisements of Alexander, the factions wiped out; he also found the way open to accumulate money in a manner such as had never been practised before Alexander’s time. Such things Ju- lius not only followed, but improved upon, and he intended to gain Bologna, to ruin the Venetians, and to drive the French out of Italy. All of these enterprises prospered with him, and so much the more to his credit, inasmuch as he did everything to strengthen the Church and not any private person. He kept also the Orsini and Colonnesi factions within the bounds in which he found them; and although there was among them some mind to make disturbance, nevertheless he held two things firm: the one, the greatness of the Church, with which he terrified them; and the other, not allowing them to have their own cardinals, who caused the disorders among them. For whenever these factions have their cardinals they do not remain quiet for long, because cardinals foster the factions in Rome and out of it, and the barons are compelled to support them, and thus from the ambitions of prelates arise disorders and tumults among the barons. For these reasons his Holiness Pope Leo38 found the pontificate most powerful, and it is to be hoped that, if others made it great in arms, he will make it still greater and more venerated by his goodness and infinite other virtues. CHAPTER XIV THAT WHICH CONCERNS A PRINCE ON THE SUBJECT OF THE ART OF WAR A prince ought to have no other aim or thought, nor select anything else for his study, than war and its rules and discipline; for this is the sole art that belongs to him who rules, and it is of such force that it not only upholds 37 Charles VIII invaded Italy in 1494. 38 Pope Leo X was the Cardinal de’ Medici. 247

Compact Anthology of World Literature those who are born princes, but it often enables men to rise from a private station to that rank. And, on the con- trary, it is seen that when princes have thought more of ease than of arms they have lost their states. And the first cause of your losing it is to neglect this art; and what enables you to acquire a state is to be master of the art. Fran- cesco Sforza, through being martial, from a private person became Duke of Milan; and the sons, through avoiding the hardships and troubles of arms, from dukes became private persons. For among other evils which being un- armed brings you, it causes you to be despised, and this is one of those ignominies against which a prince ought to guard himself, as is shown later on. Because there is nothing proportionate between the armed and the unarmed; and it is not reasonable that he who is armed should yield obedience willingly to him who is unarmed, or that the unarmed man should be secure among armed servants. Because, there being in the one disdain and in the other suspicion, it is not possible for them to work well together. And therefore a prince who does not understand the art of war, over and above the other misfortunes already mentioned, cannot be respected by his soldiers, nor can he rely on them. He ought never, therefore, to have out of his thoughts this subject of war, and in peace he should addict himself more to its exercise than in war; this he can do in two ways, the one by action, the other by study. As regards action, he ought above all things to keep his men well organized and drilled, to follow incessantly the chase, by which he accustoms his body to hardships, and learns something of the nature of localities, and gets to find out how the mountains rise, how the valleys open out, how the plains lie, and to understand the nature of rivers and marshes, and in all this to take the greatest care. Which knowledge is useful in two ways. Firstly, he learns to know his country, and is better able to undertake its defence; afterwards, by means of the knowledge and ob- servation of that locality, he understands with ease any other which it may be necessary for him to study hereafter; because the hills, valleys, and plains, and rivers and marshes that are, for instance, in Tuscany, have a certain resem- blance to those of other countries, so that with a knowledge of the aspect of one country one can easily arrive at a knowledge of others. And the prince that lacks this skill lacks the essential which it is desirable that a captain should possess, for it teaches him to surprise his enemy, to select quarters, to lead armies, to array the battle, to besiege towns to advantage. Philopoemen,39Prince of the Achaeans, among other praises which writers have bestowed on him, is commend- ed because in time of peace he never had anything in his mind but the rules of war; and when he was in the country with friends, he often stopped and reasoned with them: “If the enemy should be upon that hill, and we should find ourselves here with our army, with whom would be the advantage? How should one best advance to meet him, keeping the ranks? If we should wish to retreat, how ought we to pursue?” And he would set forth to them, as he went, all the chances that could befall an army; he would listen to their opinion and state his, confirming it with reasons, so that by these continual discussions there could never arise, in time of war, any unexpected circumstanc- es that he could not deal with. But to exercise the intellect the prince should read histories, and study there the actions of illustrious men, to see how they have borne themselves in war, to examine the causes of their victories and defeat, so as to avoid the latter and imitate the former; and above all do as an illustrious man did, who took as an exemplar one who had been praised and famous before him, and whose achievements and deeds he always kept in his mind, as it is said Alexander the Great imitated Achilles, Caesar Alexander, Scipio Cyrus. And whoever reads the life of Cyrus, written by Xenophon, will recognize afterwards in the life of Scipio how that imitation was his glory, and how in chastity, affability, humanity, and liberality Scipio conformed to those things which have been written of Cyrus by Xenophon. A wise prince ought to observe some such rules, and never in peaceful times stand idle, but increase his resources with industry in such a way that they may be available to him in adversity, so that if fortune chances it may find him prepared to resist her blows. CHAPTER XV CONCERNING THINGS FOR WHICH MEN, AND ESPECIALLY PRINCES, ARE PRAISED OR BLAMED It remains now to see what ought to be the rules of conduct for a prince towards subject and friends. And as I know that many have written on this point, I expect I shall be considered presumptuous in mentioning it again, especially as in discussing it I shall depart from the methods of other people. But, it being my intention to write a thing which shall be useful to him who apprehends it, it appears to me more appropriate to follow up the real truth of the matter than the imagination of it; for many have pictured republics and principalities which in fact have never been known or seen, because how one lives is so far distant from how one ought to live, that he who neglects what is done for what ought to be done, sooner effects his ruin than his preservation; for a man who wishes to act entirely up to his professions of virtue soon meets with what destroys him among so much that is evil. Hence it is necessary for a prince wishing to hold his own to know how to do wrong, and to make use of it or not according to necessity. Therefore, putting on one side imaginary things concerning a prince, and discussing 39 Philopoemen, “the last of the Greeks,” born 252 B.C., died 183 B.C. 248

The Prince those which are real, I say that all men when they are spoken of, and chiefly princes for being more highly placed, are remarkable for some of those qualities which bring them either blame or praise; and thus it is that one is reputed liberal, another miserly, using a Tuscan term (because an avaricious person in our language is still he who desires to possess by robbery, whilst we call one miserly who deprives himself too much of the use of his own); one is reputed generous, one rapacious; one cruel, one compassionate; one faithless, another faithful; one effeminate and cowardly, another bold and brave; one affable, another haughty; one lascivious, another chaste; one sincere, another cunning; one hard, another easy; one grave, another frivolous; one religious, another unbelieving, and the like. And I know that every one will confess that it would be most praiseworthy in a prince to exhibit all the above qualities that are considered good; but because they can neither be entirely possessed nor observed, for human conditions do not permit it, it is necessary for him to be sufficiently prudent that he may know how to avoid the reproach of those vic- es which would lose him his state; and also to keep himself, if it be possible, from those which would not lose him it; but this not being possible, he may with less hesitation abandon himself to them. And again, he need not make himself uneasy at incurring a reproach for those vices without which the state can only be saved with difficulty, for if everything is considered carefully, it will be found that something which looks like virtue, if followed, would be his ruin; whilst something else, which looks like vice, yet followed brings him security and prosperity.  CHAPTER XVI CONCERNING LIBERALITY AND MEANNESS Commencing then with the first of the above-named characteristics, I say that it would be well to be reputed liberal. Nevertheless, liberality exercised in a way that does not bring you the reputation for it, injures you; for if one exercises it honestly and as it should be exercised, it may not become known, and you will not avoid the reproach of its opposite. Therefore, any one wishing to maintain among men the name of liberal is obliged to avoid no attribute of magnificence; so that a prince thus inclined will consume in such acts all his property, and will be compelled in the end, if he wish to maintain the name of liberal, to unduly weigh down his people, and tax them, and do ev- erything he can to get money. This will soon make him odious to his subjects, and becoming poor he will be little valued by any one; thus, with his liberality, having offended many and rewarded few, he is affected by the very first trouble and imperilled by whatever may be the first danger; recognizing this himself, and wishing to draw back from it, he runs at once into the reproach of being miserly. Therefore, a prince, not being able to exercise this virtue of liberality in such a way that it is recognized, ex- cept to his cost, if he is wise he ought not to fear the reputation of being mean, for in time he will come to be more considered than if liberal, seeing that with his economy his revenues are enough, that he can defend himself against all attacks, and is able to engage in enterprises without burdening his people; thus it comes to pass that he exercises liberality towards all from whom he does not take, who are numberless, and meanness towards those to whom he does not give, who are few. We have not seen great things done in our time except by those who have been considered mean; the rest have failed. Pope Julius the Second was assisted in reaching the papacy by a reputation for liberality, yet he did not strive afterwards to keep it up, when he made war on the King of France; and he made many wars without imposing any extraordinary tax on his subjects, for he supplied his additional expenses out of his long thriftiness. The present King of Spain would not have undertaken or conquered in so many enterprises if he had been reputed liberal. A prince, therefore, provided that he has not to rob his subjects, that he can defend himself, that he does not become poor and abject, that he is not forced to become rapacious, ought to hold of little account a reputation for being mean, for it is one of those vices which will enable him to govern. And if any one should say: Caesar obtained empire by liberality, and many others have reached the highest positions by having been liberal, and by being considered so, I answer: Either you are a prince in fact, or in a way to become one. In the first case this liberality is dangerous, in the second it is very necessary to be considered liberal; and Caesar was one of those who wished to become pre-eminent in Rome; but if he had survived after becoming so, and had not moderated his expenses, he would have destroyed his government. And if any one should reply: Many have been princes, and have done great things with armies, who have been considered very liberal, I reply: Either a prince spends that which is his own or his subjects’ or else that of others. In the first case he ought to be sparing, in the second he ought not to neglect any opportunity for liberality. And to the prince who goes forth with his army, supporting it by pillage, sack, and extortion, handling that which belongs to others, this liberality is necessary, otherwise he would not be followed by soldiers. And of that which is neither yours nor your subjects’ you can be a ready giver, as were Cyrus, Caesar, and Alexander; because it does not take away your reputation if you squander that of others, but adds to it; it is only squandering your own that injures you. And there is nothing wastes so rapidly as liberality, for even whilst you exercise it you lose the power to do so, and so become either poor or despised, or else, in avoiding poverty, rapacious and hated. And a prince should 249

Compact Anthology of World Literature guard himself, above all things, against being despised and hated; and liberality leads you to both. Therefore it is wiser to have a reputation for meanness which brings reproach without hatred, than to be compelled through seek- ing a reputation for liberality to incur a name for rapacity which begets reproach with hatred.  CHAPTER XVII CONCERNING CRUELTY AND CLEMENCY, AND WHETHER IT IS BETTER TO BE LOVED THAN FEARED Coming now to the other qualities mentioned above, I say that every prince ought to desire to be considered clement and not cruel. Nevertheless he ought to take care not to misuse this clemency. Cesare Borgia was consid- ered cruel; notwithstanding, his cruelty reconciled the Romagna, unified it, and restored it to peace and loyalty. And if this be rightly considered, he will be seen to have been much more merciful than the Florentine people, who, to avoid a reputation for cruelty, permitted Pistoia to be destroyed.40 Therefore a prince, so long as he keeps his subjects united and loyal, ought not to mind the reproach of cruelty; because with a few examples he will be more merciful than those who, through too much mercy, allow disorders to arise, from which follow murders or robber- ies; for these are wont to injure the whole people, whilst those executions which originate with a prince offend the individual only. And of all princes, it is impossible for the new prince to avoid the imputation of cruelty, owing to new states being full of dangers. Hence Virgil, through the mouth of Dido, excuses the inhumanity of her reign owing to its being new, saying: “Res dura, et regni novitas me talia cogunt Moliri, et late fines custode tueri.”41 Nevertheless he ought to be slow to believe and to act, nor should he himself show fear, but proceed in a tem- perate manner with prudence and humanity, so that too much confidence may not make him incautious and too much distrust render him intolerable. Upon this a question arises: whether it be better to be loved than feared or feared than loved? It may be an- swered that one should wish to be both, but, because it is difficult to unite them in one person, it is much safer to be feared than loved, when, of the two, either must be dispensed with. Because this is to be asserted in general of men, that they are ungrateful, fickle, false, cowardly, covetous, and as long as you succeed they are yours entirely; they will offer you their blood, property, life, and children, as is said above, when the need is far distant; but when it approaches they turn against you. And that prince who, relying entirely on their promises, has neglected other precautions, is ruined; because friendships that are obtained by payments, and not by greatness or nobility of mind, may indeed be earned, but they are not secured, and in time of need cannot be relied upon; and men have less scru- ple in offending one who is beloved than one who is feared, for love is preserved by the link of obligation which, owing to the baseness of men, is broken at every opportunity for their advantage; but fear preserves you by a dread of punishment which never fails. Nevertheless a prince ought to inspire fear in such a way that, if he does not win love, he avoids hatred; because he can endure very well being feared whilst he is not hated, which will always be as long as he abstains from the property of his citizens and subjects and from their women. But when it is necessary for him to proceed against the life of someone, he must do it on proper justification and for manifest cause, but above all things he must keep his hands off the property of others, because men more quickly forget the death of their father than the loss of their patrimony. Besides, pretexts for taking away the property are never wanting; for he who has once begun to live by robbery will always find pretexts for seizing what belongs to others; but reasons for taking life, on the contrary, are more difficult to find and sooner lapse. But when a prince is with his army, and has under control a multitude of soldiers, then it is quite necessary for him to disregard the reputation of cruelty, for without it he would never hold his army united or disposed to its duties. Among the wonderful deeds of Hannibal this one is enumerated: that having led an enormous army, composed of many various races of men, to fight in foreign lands, no dissensions arose either among them or against the prince, whether in his bad or in his good fortune. This arose from nothing else than his inhuman cruelty, which, with his boundless valour, made him revered and terrible in the sight of his soldiers, but without that cruelty, his other virtues were not sufficient to produce this effect. And short-sighted writers admire his deeds from one point of view and from another condemn the principal cause of them. That it is true his other virtues would not have been sufficient for him may be proved by the case of Scipio, that most excellent man, not only of his own times but within the memory of man, against whom, nevertheless, his army rebelled in Spain; this arose from nothing but his 40 During the rioting between the Cancellieri and Panciatichi factions in 1502 and 1503. 41 . . . against my will, my fate / A throne unsettled, and an infant state, / Bid me defend my realms with all my pow’rs, /And guard with these severities my shores. (trans. Christopher Pitt) 250

The Prince too great forbearance, which gave his soldiers more license than is consistent with military discipline. For this he was upbraided in the Senate by Fabius Maximus, and called the corrupter of the Roman soldiery. The Locrians were laid waste by a legate of Scipio, yet they were not avenged by him, nor was the insolence of the legate punished, ow- ing entirely to his easy nature. Insomuch that someone in the Senate, wishing to excuse him, said there were many men who knew much better how not to err than to correct the errors of others. This disposition, if he had been con- tinued in the command, would have destroyed in time the fame and glory of Scipio; but, he being under the control of the Senate, this injurious characteristic not only concealed itself, but contributed to his glory. Returning to the question of being feared or loved, I come to the conclusion that, men loving according to their own will and fearing according to that of the prince, a wise prince should establish himself on that which is in his own control and not in that of others; he must endeavour only to avoid hatred, as is noted. CHAPTER XVIII CONCERNING THE WAY IN WHICH PRINCES SHOULD KEEP FAITH42 Every one admits how praiseworthy it is in a prince to keep faith, and to live with integrity and not with craft. Nevertheless our experience has been that those princes who have done great things have held good faith of little account, and have known how to circumvent the intellect of men by craft, and in the end have overcome those who have relied on their word. You must know there are two ways of contesting,43 the one by the law, the other by force; the first method is proper to men, the second to beasts; but because the first is frequently not sufficient, it is necessary to have recourse to the second. Therefore it is necessary for a prince to understand how to avail himself of the beast and the man. This has been figuratively taught to princes by ancient writers, who describe how Achilles and many other princes of old were given to the Centaur Chiron to nurse, who brought them up in his discipline; which means solely that, as they had for a teacher one who was half beast and half man, so it is necessary for a prince to know how to make use of both natures, and that one without the other is not durable. A prince, therefore, being compelled knowingly to adopt the beast, ought to choose the fox and the lion; because the lion cannot defend himself against snares and the fox cannot defend himself against wolves. Therefore, it is necessary to be a fox to dis- cover the snares and a lion to terrify the wolves. Those who rely simply on the lion do not understand what they are about. Therefore a wise lord cannot, nor ought he to, keep faith when such observance may be turned against him, and when the reasons that caused him to pledge it exist no longer. If men were entirely good this precept would not hold, but because they are bad, and will not keep faith with you, you too are not bound to observe it with them. Nor will there ever be wanting to a prince legitimate reasons to excuse this non-observance. Of this endless modern ex- amples could be given, showing how many treaties and engagements have been made void and of no effect through the faithlessness of princes; and he who has known best how to employ the fox has succeeded best. But it is necessary to know well how to disguise this characteristic, and to be a great pretender and dissembler; and men are so simple, and so subject to present necessities, that he who seeks to deceive will always find someone who will allow himself to be deceived. One recent example I cannot pass over in silence. Alexander the Sixth did nothing else but deceive men, nor ever thought of doing otherwise, and he always found victims; for there never was a man who had greater power in asserting, or who with greater oaths would affirm a thing, yet would observe it less; nevertheless his deceits always succeeded according to his wishes,44 because he well understood this side of mankind. Therefore it is unnecessary for a prince to have all the good qualities I have enumerated, but it is very necessary to appear to have them. And I shall dare to say this also, that to have them and always to observe them is injurious, and that to appear to have them is useful; to appear merciful, faithful, humane, religious, upright, and to be so, but with a mind so framed that should you require not to be so, you may be able and know how to change to the opposite. And you have to understand this, that a prince, especially a new one, cannot observe all those things for which men are esteemed, being often forced, in order to maintain the state, to act contrary to fidelity,45friendship, human- 42 “The present chapter has given greater offence than any other portion of Machiavelli’s writings.” Burd, “Il Principe,” p. 297. 43 “Contesting,” i.e. “striving for mastery.” Mr Burd points out that this passage is imitated directly from Cicero’s “De Officiis”: “Nam cum sint duo genera decertandi, unum per disceptationem, alterum per vim; cumque illud proprium sit hominis, hoc beluarum; confugien- dum est ad posterius, si uti non licet superiore.” 44 “Nondimanco sempre gli succederono gli inganni (ad votum).” The words “ad votum” are omitted in the Testina addition, 1550. Alexander never did what he said, / Cesare never said what he did. (Italian Proverb) 45 “Contrary to fidelity” or “faith,” “contro alla fede,” and “tutto fede,” “altogether faithful,” in the next paragraph. It is noteworthy that these two phrases, “contro alla fede” and “tutto fede,” were omitted in the Testina edition, which was published with the sanction of the papal authorities. It may be that the meaning attached to the word “fede” was “the faith,” i.e. the Catholic creed, and not as rendered here “fidelity” and “faithful.” Observe that the word “religione” was suffered to stand in the text of the Testina, being used to signify indifferently every shade of belief, as witness “the religion,” a phrase inevitably employed to designate the Huguenot heresy. South in his Sermon IX, p. 69, ed. 1843, comments on this passage as follows: “That great patron and Coryphaeus of this tribe, Nicolo Machiavel, laid down this for a master rule in 251

Compact Anthology of World Literature ity, and religion. Therefore it is necessary for him to have a mind ready to turn itself accordingly as the winds and variations of fortune force it, yet, as I have said above, not to diverge from the good if he can avoid doing so, but, if compelled, then to know how to set about it. For this reason a prince ought to take care that he never lets anything slip from his lips that is not replete with the above-named five qualities, that he may appear to him who sees and hears him altogether merciful, faithful, humane, upright, and religious. There is nothing more necessary to appear to have than this last qual- ity, inasmuch as men judge generally more by the eye than by the hand, because it belongs to everybody to see you, to few to come in touch with you. Every one sees what you appear to be, few really know what you are, and those few dare not oppose themselves to the opinion of the many, who have the majesty of the state to defend them; and in the actions of all men, and especially of princes, which it is not prudent to challenge, one judges by the result. For that reason, let a prince have the credit of conquering and holding his state, the means will always be con- sidered honest, and he will be praised by everybody; because the vulgar are always taken by what a thing seems to be and by what comes of it; and in the world there are only the vulgar, for the few find a place there only when the many have no ground to rest on. One prince46 of the present time, whom it is not well to name, never preaches anything else but peace and good faith, and to both he is most hostile, and either, if he had kept it, would have deprived him of reputation and king- dom many a time. CHAPTER XIX THAT ONE SHOULD AVOID BEING DESPISED AND HATED Now, concerning the characteristics of which mention is made above, I have spoken of the more important ones, the others I wish to discuss briefly under this generality, that the prince must consider, as has been in part said before, how to avoid those things which will make him hated or contemptible; and as often as he shall have suc- ceeded he will have fulfilled his part, and he need not fear any danger in other reproaches. It makes him hated above all things, as I have said, to be rapacious, and to be a violator of the property and women of his subjects, from both of which he must abstain. And when neither their property nor their honor is touched, the majority of men live content, and he has only to contend with the ambition of a few, whom he can curb with ease in many ways. It makes him contemptible to be considered fickle, frivolous, effeminate, mean-spirited, irresolute, from all of which a prince should guard himself as from a rock; and he should endeavour to show in his actions greatness, courage, gravity, and fortitude; and in his private dealings with his subjects let him show that his judgments are ir- revocable, and maintain himself in such reputation that no one can hope either to deceive him or to get round him. That prince is highly esteemed who conveys this impression of himself, and he who is highly esteemed is not easily conspired against; for, provided it is well known that he is an excellent man and revered by his people, he can only be attacked with difficulty. For this reason a prince ought to have two fears, one from within, on account of his subjects, the other from without, on account of external powers. From the latter he is defended by being well armed and having good allies, and if he is well armed he will have good friends, and affairs will always remain quiet within when they are quiet without, unless they should have been already disturbed by conspiracy; and even should affairs outside be disturbed, if he has carried out his preparations and has lived as I have said, as long as he does not despair, he will resist every attack, as I said Nabis the Spartan did. But concerning his subjects, when affairs outside are disturbed he has only to fear that they will conspire secret- ly, from which a prince can easily secure himself by avoiding being hated and despised, and by keeping the people satisfied with him, which it is most necessary for him to accomplish, as I said above at length. And one of the most efficacious remedies that a prince can have against conspiracies is not to be hated and despised by the people, for he who conspires against a prince always expects to please them by his removal; but when the conspirator can only look forward to offending them, he will not have the courage to take such a course, for the difficulties that confront a conspirator are infinite. And as experience shows, many have been the conspiracies, but few have been successful; because he who conspires cannot act alone, nor can he take a companion except from those whom he believes to be malcontents, and as soon as you have opened your mind to a malcontent you have given him the material with which to content himself, for by denouncing you he can look for every advantage; so that, seeing the gain from this course to be assured, and seeing the other to be doubtful and full of dangers, he must be a very rare friend, or a thoroughly obstinate enemy of the prince, to keep faith with you. his political scheme: ‘That the show of religion was helpful to the politician, but the reality of it hurtful and pernicious.’” 46 Ferdinand of Aragon. “When Machiavelli was writing ‘The Prince’ it would have been clearly impossible to mention Ferdinand’s name here without giving offence.” Burd’s “Il Principe,” p. 308. 252

The Prince And, to reduce the matter into a small compass, I say that, on the side of the conspirator, there is nothing but fear, jealousy, prospect of punishment to terrify him; but on the side of the prince there is the majesty of the princi- pality, the laws, the protection of friends and the state to defend him; so that, adding to all these things the popular goodwill, it is impossible that any one should be so rash as to conspire. For whereas in general the conspirator has to fear before the execution of his plot, in this case he has also to fear the sequel to the crime; because on account of it he has the people for an enemy, and thus cannot hope for any escape. Endless examples could be given on this subject, but I will be content with one, brought to pass within the memory of our fathers. Messer Annibale Bentivogli, who was prince in Bologna (grandfather of the present Anni- bale), having been murdered by the Canneschi, who had conspired against him, not one of his family survived but Messer Giovanni,47 who was in childhood: immediately after his assassination the people rose and murdered all the Canneschi. This sprung from the popular goodwill which the house of Bentivogli enjoyed in those days in Bologna; which was so great that, although none remained there after the death of Annibale who was able to rule the state, the Bolognese, having information that there was one of the Bentivogli family in Florence, who up to that time had been considered the son of a blacksmith, sent to Florence for him and gave him the government of their city, and it was ruled by him until Messer Giovanni came in due course to the government. For this reason I consider that a prince ought to reckon conspiracies of little account when his people hold him in esteem; but when it is hostile to him, and bears hatred towards him, he ought to fear everything and everybody. And well-ordered states and wise princes have taken every care not to drive the nobles to desperation, and to keep the people satisfied and contented, for this is one of the most important objects a prince can have. Among the best ordered and governed kingdoms of our times is France, and in it are found many good insti- tutions on which depend the liberty and security of the king; of these the first is the parliament and its authority, because he who founded the kingdom, knowing the ambition of the nobility and their boldness, considered that a bit to their mouths would be necessary to hold them in; and, on the other side, knowing the hatred of the people, founded in fear, against the nobles, he wished to protect them, yet he was not anxious for this to be the particular care of the king; therefore, to take away the reproach which he would be liable to from the nobles for favouring the people, and from the people for favouring the nobles, he set up an arbiter, who should be one who could beat down the great and favour the lesser without reproach to the king. Neither could you have a better or a more prudent arrangement, or a greater source of security to the king and kingdom. From this one can draw another important conclusion, that princes ought to leave affairs of reproach to the management of others, and keep those of grace in their own hands. And further, I consider that a prince ought to cherish the nobles, but not so as to make himself hated by the people. It may appear, perhaps, to some who have examined the lives and deaths of the Roman emperors that many of them would be an example contrary to my opinion, seeing that some of them lived nobly and showed great qualities of soul, nevertheless they have lost their empire or have been killed by subjects who have conspired against them. Wishing, therefore, to answer these objections, I will recall the characters of some of the emperors, and will show that the causes of their ruin were not different to those alleged by me; at the same time I will only submit for con- sideration those things that are noteworthy to him who studies the affairs of those times. It seems to me sufficient to take all those emperors who succeeded to the empire from Marcus the philosopher down to Maximinus; they were Marcus and his son Commodus, Pertinax, Julian, Severus and his son Antoninus Caracalla, Macrinus, Heliogabalus, Alexander, and Maximinus. There is first to note that, whereas in other principalities the ambition of the nobles and the insolence of the peo- ple only have to be contended with, the Roman emperors had a third difficulty in having to put up with the cruelty and avarice of their soldiers, a matter so beset with difficulties that it was the ruin of many; for it was a hard thing to give satisfaction both to soldiers and people; because the people loved peace, and for this reason they loved the un- aspiring prince, whilst the soldiers loved the warlike prince who was bold, cruel, and rapacious, which qualities they were quite willing he should exercise upon the people, so that they could get double pay and give vent to their own greed and cruelty. Hence it arose that those emperors were always overthrown who, either by birth or training, had no great authority, and most of them, especially those who came new to the principality, recognizing the difficulty of these two opposing humours, were inclined to give satisfaction to the soldiers, caring little about injuring the people. Which course was necessary, because, as princes cannot help being hated by someone, they ought, in the first place, to avoid being hated by every one, and when they cannot compass this, they ought to endeavour with the utmost diligence to avoid the hatred of the most powerful. Therefore, those emperors who through inexperience had need of special favour adhered more readily to the soldiers than to the people; a course which turned out advantageous to them or not, accordingly as the prince knew how to maintain authority over them. 47 Giovanni Bentivogli, born in Bologna 1438, died at Milan 1508. He ruled Bologna from 1462 to 1506. Machiavelli’s strong condem- nation of conspiracies may get its edge from his own very recent experience (February 1513), when he had been arrested and tortured for his alleged complicity in the Boscoli conspiracy. 253

Compact Anthology of World Literature From these causes it arose that Marcus, Pertinax, and Alexander, being all men of modest life, lovers of justice, enemies to cruelty, humane, and benignant, came to a sad end except Marcus; he alone lived and died honoured, because he had succeeded to the throne by hereditary title, and owed nothing either to the soldiers or the people; and afterwards, being possessed of many virtues which made him respected, he always kept both orders in their places whilst he lived, and was neither hated nor despised. But Pertinax was created emperor against the wishes of the soldiers, who, being accustomed to live licentiously under Commodus, could not endure the honest life to which Pertinax wished to reduce them; thus, having given cause for hatred, to which hatred there was added contempt for his old age, he was overthrown at the very begin- ning of his administration. And here it should be noted that hatred is acquired as much by good works as by bad ones, therefore, as I said before, a prince wishing to keep his state is very often forced to do evil; for when that body is corrupt whom you think you have need of to maintain yourself—it may be either the people or the soldiers or the nobles—you have to submit to its humours and to gratify them, and then good works will do you harm. But let us come to Alexander, who was a man of such great goodness, that among the other praises which are accorded him is this, that in the fourteen years he held the empire no one was ever put to death by him unjudged; nevertheless, being considered effeminate and a man who allowed himself to be governed by his mother, he became despised, the army conspired against him, and murdered him. Turning now to the opposite characters of Commodus, Severus, Antoninus Caracalla, and Maximinus, you will find them all cruel and rapacious-men who, to satisfy their soldiers, did not hesitate to commit every kind of iniq- uity against the people; and all, except Severus, came to a bad end; but in Severus there was so much valour that, keeping the soldiers friendly, although the people were oppressed by him, he reigned successfully; for his valour made him so much admired in the sight of the soldiers and people that the latter were kept in a way astonished and awed and the former respectful and satisfied. And because the actions of this man, as a new prince, were great, I wish to show briefly that he knew well how to counterfeit the fox and the lion, which natures, as I said above, it is necessary for a prince to imitate. Knowing the sloth of the Emperor Julian, he persuaded the army in Sclavonia, of which he was captain, that it would be right to go to Rome and avenge the death of Pertinax, who had been killed by the praetorian soldiers; and under this pretext, without appearing to aspire to the throne, he moved the army on Rome, and reached Italy before it was known that he had started. On his arrival at Rome, the Senate, through fear, elected him emperor and killed Julian. After this there remained for Severus, who wished to make himself master of the whole empire, two difficul- ties; one in Asia, where Niger, head of the Asiatic army, had caused himself to be proclaimed emperor; the other in the west where Albinus was, who also aspired to the throne. And as he considered it dangerous to declare himself hostile to both, he decided to attack Niger and to deceive Albinus. To the latter he wrote that, being elected emperor by the Senate, he was willing to share that dignity with him and sent him the title of Caesar; and, moreover, that the Senate had made Albinus his colleague; which things were accepted by Albinus as true. But after Severus had conquered and killed Niger, and settled oriental affairs, he returned to Rome and com- plained to the Senate that Albinus, little recognizing the benefits that he had received from him, had by treachery sought to murder him, and for this ingratitude he was compelled to punish him. Afterwards he sought him out in France, and took from him his government and life. He who will, therefore, carefully examine the actions of this man will find him a most valiant lion and a most cunning fox; he will find him feared and respected by every one, and not hated by the army; and it need not be wondered at that he, a new man, was able to hold the empire so well, because his supreme renown always protected him from that hatred which the people might have conceived against him for his violence. But his son Antoninus was a most eminent man, and had very excellent qualities, which made him admira- ble in the sight of the people and acceptable to the soldiers, for he was a warlike man, most enduring of fatigue, a despiser of all delicate food and other luxuries, which caused him to be beloved by the armies. Nevertheless, his ferocity and cruelties were so great and so unheard of that, after endless single murders, he killed a large number of the people of Rome and all those of Alexandria. He became hated by the whole world, and also feared by those he had around him, to such an extent that he was murdered in the midst of his army by a centurion. And here it must be noted that such-like deaths, which are deliberately inflicted with a resolved and desperate courage, cannot be avoided by princes, because any one who does not fear to die can inflict them; but a prince may fear them the less because they are very rare; he has only to be careful not to do any grave injury to those whom he employs or has around him in the service of the state. Antoninus had not taken this care, but had contumeliously killed a brother of that centurion, whom also he daily threatened, yet retained in his bodyguard; which, as it turned out, was a rash thing to do, and proved the emperor’s ruin. But let us come to Commodus, to whom it should have been very easy to hold the empire, for, being the son of Marcus, he had inherited it, and he had only to follow in the footsteps of his father to please his people and soldiers; but, being by nature cruel and brutal, he gave himself up to amusing the soldiers and corrupting them, so that he 254

The Prince might indulge his rapacity upon the people; on the other hand, not maintaining his dignity, often descending to the theatre to compete with gladiators, and doing other vile things, little worthy of the imperial majesty, he fell into contempt with the soldiers, and being hated by one party and despised by the other, he was conspired against and was killed. It remains to discuss the character of Maximinus. He was a very warlike man, and the armies, being disgusted with the effeminacy of Alexander, of whom I have already spoken, killed him and elected Maximinus to the throne. This he did not possess for long, for two things made him hated and despised; the one, his having kept sheep in Thrace, which brought him into contempt (it being well known to all, and considered a great indignity by every one), and the other, his having at the accession to his dominions deferred going to Rome and taking possession of the imperial seat; he had also gained a reputation for the utmost ferocity by having, through his prefects in Rome and elsewhere in the empire, practised many cruelties, so that the whole world was moved to anger at the meanness of his birth and to fear at his barbarity. First Africa rebelled, then the Senate with all the people of Rome, and all Italy conspired against him, to which may be added his own army; this latter, besieging Aquileia and meeting with difficulties in taking it, were disgusted with his cruelties, and fearing him less when they found so many against him, murdered him. I do not wish to discuss Heliogabalus, Macrinus, or Julian, who, being thoroughly contemptible, were quickly wiped out; but I will bring this discourse to a conclusion by saying that princes in our times have this difficulty of giving inordinate satisfaction to their soldiers in a far less degree, because, notwithstanding one has to give them some indulgence, that is soon done; none of these princes have armies that are veterans in the governance and administration of provinces, as were the armies of the Roman Empire; and whereas it was then more necessary to give satisfaction to the soldiers than to the people, it is now more necessary to all princes, except the Turk and the Soldan, to satisfy the people rather the soldiers, because the people are the more powerful. From the above I have excepted the Turk, who always keeps round him twelve thousand infantry and fifteen thousand cavalry on which depend the security and strength of the kingdom, and it is necessary that, putting aside every consideration for the people, he should keep them his friends. The kingdom of the Soldan is similar; being entirely in the hands of soldiers, it follows again that, without regard to the people, he must keep them his friends. But you must note that the state of the Soldan is unlike all other principalities, for the reason that it is like the Christian pontificate, which cannot be called either an hereditary or a newly formed principality; because the sons of the old prince are not the heirs, but he who is elected to that position by those who have authority, and the sons remain only noblemen. And this being an ancient custom, it cannot be called a new principality, because there are none of those difficulties in it that are met with in new ones; for although the prince is new, the constitution of the state is old, and it is framed so as to receive him as if he were its hereditary lord. But returning to the subject of our discourse, I say that whoever will consider it will acknowledge that either hatred or contempt has been fatal to the above-named emperors, and it will be recognized also how it happened that, a number of them acting in one way and a number in another, only one in each way came to a happy end and the rest to unhappy ones. Because it would have been useless and dangerous for Pertinax and Alexander, being new princes, to imitate Marcus, who was heir to the principality; and likewise it would have been utterly destructive to Caracalla, Commodus, and Maximinus to have imitated Severus, they not having sufficient valour to enable them to tread in his footsteps. Therefore a prince, new to the principality, cannot imitate the actions of Marcus, nor, again, is it necessary to follow those of Severus, but he ought to take from Severus those parts which are necessary to found his state, and from Marcus those which are proper and glorious to keep a state that may already be stable and firm. CHAPTER XXV WHAT FORTUNE CAN EFFECT IN HUMAN AFFAIRS AND HOW TO WITHSTAND HER It is not unknown to me how many men have had, and still have, the opinion that the affairs of the world are in such wise governed by fortune and by God that men with their wisdom cannot direct them and that no one can even help them; and because of this they would have us believe that it is not necessary to labour much in affairs, but to let chance govern them. This opinion has been more credited in our times because of the great changes in affairs which have been seen, and may still be seen, every day, beyond all human conjecture. Sometimes pondering over this, I am in some degree inclined to their opinion. Nevertheless, not to extinguish our free will, I hold it to be true that Fortune is the arbiter of one-half of our actions, but that she still leaves us to direct the other half, or perhaps a little less. I compare her to one of those raging rivers, which when in flood overflows the plains, sweeping away trees and buildings, bearing away the soil from place to place; everything flies before it, all yield to its violence, without being able in any way to withstand it; and yet, though its nature be such, it does not follow therefore that men, 255

Compact Anthology of World Literature when the weather becomes fair, shall not make provision, both with defences and barriers, in such a manner that, rising again, the waters may pass away by canal, and their force be neither so unrestrained nor so dangerous. So it happens with fortune, who shows her power where valour has not prepared to resist her, and thither she turns her forces where she knows that barriers and defences have not been raised to constrain her. And if you will consider Italy, which is the seat of these changes, and which has given to them their impulse, you will see it to be an open country without barriers and without any defence. For if it had been defended by proper valour, as are Germany, Spain, and France, either this invasion would not have made the great changes it has made or it would not have come at all. And this I consider enough to say concerning resistance to fortune in general. But confining myself more to the particular, I say that a prince may be seen happy to-day and ruined to-mor- row without having shown any change of disposition or character. This, I believe, arises firstly from causes that have already been discussed at length, namely, that the prince who relies entirely on fortune is lost when it chang- es. I believe also that he will be successful who directs his actions according to the spirit of the times, and that he whose actions do not accord with the times will not be successful. Because men are seen, in affairs that lead to the end which every man has before him, namely, glory and riches, to get there by various methods; one with caution, another with haste; one by force, another by skill; one by patience, another by its opposite; and each one succeeds in reaching the goal by a different method. One can also see of two cautious men the one attain his end, the other fail; and similarly, two men by different observances are equally successful, the one being cautious, the other impetuous; all this arises from nothing else than whether or not they conform in their methods to the spirit of the times. This follows from what I have said, that two men working differently bring about the same effect, and of two working similarly, one attains his object and the other does not. Changes in estate also issue from this, for if, to one who governs himself with caution and patience, times and affairs converge in such a way that his administration is successful, his fortune is made; but if times and affairs change, he is ruined if he does not change his course of action. But a man is not often found sufficiently circum- spect to know how to accommodate himself to the change, both because he cannot deviate from what nature inclines him to do, and also because, having always prospered by acting in one way, he cannot be persuaded that it is well to leave it; and, therefore, the cautious man, when it is time to turn adventurous, does not know how to do it, hence he is ruined; but had he changed his conduct with the times fortune would not have changed. Pope Julius the Second went to work impetuously in all his affairs, and found the times and circumstances conform so well to that line of action that he always met with success. Consider his first enterprise against Bologna, Messer Giovanni Bentivogli being still alive. The Venetians were not agreeable to it, nor was the King of Spain, and he had the enterprise still under discussion with the King of France; nevertheless he personally entered upon the expedition with his accustomed boldness and energy, a move which made Spain and the Venetians stand irresolute and passive, the latter from fear, the former from desire to recover the kingdom of Naples; on the other hand, he drew after him the King of France, because that king, having observed the movement, and desiring to make the Pope his friend so as to humble the Venetians, found it impossible to refuse him. Therefore Julius with his impetu- ous action accomplished what no other pontiff with simple human wisdom could have done; for if he had waited in Rome until he could get away, with his plans arranged and everything fixed, as any other pontiff would have done, he would never have succeeded. Because the King of France would have made a thousand excuses, and the others would have raised a thousand fears. I will leave his other actions alone, as they were all alike, and they all succeeded, for the shortness of his life did not let him experience the contrary; but if circumstances had arisen which required him to go cautiously, his ruin would have followed, because he would never have deviated from those ways to which nature inclined him. I conclude, therefore that, fortune being changeful and mankind steadfast in their ways, so long as the two are in agreement men are successful, but unsuccessful when they fall out. For my part I consider that it is better to be adventurous than cautious, because fortune is a woman, and if you wish to keep her under it is necessary to beat and ill-use her; and it is seen that she allows herself to be mastered by the adventurous rather than by those who go to work more coldly. She is, therefore, always, woman-like, a lover of young men, because they are less cautious, more violent, and with more audacity command her. 256

The Tempest The Tempest William Shakespeare (1564 C.E.-1616 C.E.) Published in the First Folio of 1623 C.E. England The Tempest is regarded as the last play Shakespeare wrote alone, based Image 11.16: Rowe Tempest | on the fact that it uses material only available in late 1610 C.E. and it was Frontspiece of The Tempest from Nicho- performed before King James on Hallowmas Night, 1611 C.E. After writing las Rowe’s The Works of William Shake- this play, Shakespeare soon retired to Stratford, but he also collaborated on speare, depicting monsters descending at least two other plays. Scholars group The Tempest among Shakespeare’s on a ship at sea. late plays called “romances,” a modern term for a genre of plays that blend Author: Tom Reedy elements of tragedy and comedy. It was published in the First Folio of 1623, Source: Wikimedia Commons which is the first published edition of the collected works of William Shake- License: Public Domain speare. The actions of The Tempest take place in a single location in a single day (keeping the unities of time and place), beginning with a storm raised by Prospero, the former duke of Milan, whose position has been usurped by his brother Antonio and King Alonzo of Naples. The play has lent itself to nu- merous adaptations, including Aimé Césaire’s 1969 postcolonial adaptation, Une Tempête (“A Tempest”). Written by Kyounghye Kwon The Tempest License: Public Domain William Shakespeare Dramatis Personæ: ALONSO, King of Naples. SEBASTIAN, His Brother. PROSPERO, the right Duke of Milan. ANTONIO, his brother, the usurping Duke of Milan. FERDINAND, son to the King of Naples. GONZALO, an honest old Counsellor. ADRIAN, Lord FRANCISCO, Lord CALIBAN, a savage and deformed Slave. TRINCULO, a Jester. STEPHANO, a drunken Butler. Master of a Ship. Boatswain. Mariners. MIRANDA, daughter of Prospero. ARIEL, an airy Spirit. IRIS, CERES, JUNO, presented by Spirits Nymphs, Reapers, Other Spirits attending on Prospero. 257

Compact Anthology of World Literature ACT I Scene I—On a ship at sea: a tempestuous noise of thunder and lightning heard [Enter a Ship-Master and a Boatswain] Mast. Boatswain! 1 Here, master: what cheer? Boats. Mast. Good, speak to the mariners: fall to’t, yarely, or we run ourselves aground: bestir, bestir. [Exit.] [Enter Mariners.] Boats. 5 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! [Enter Alonso, Sebastian, Antonio, Ferdinand, Gonzalo, and others.] Good boatswain, have care. Where’s the master? Alon. Play the men. I pray now, keep below. Boats. 10 Where is the master, boatswain? Ant. Do you not hear him? You mar our labour: keep Boats. your cabins: you do assist the storm. Nay, good, be patient. Gon. Boats. 15 When the sea is. Hence! What cares these roarers for the name of king? To cabin: silence! trouble us not. Good, yet remember whom thou hast aboard. Gon. Boats. 20 None that I more love than myself. You are a Counsellor; if you can command these elements to silence, and work the peace of the present, we will not hand a rope more; use your authority: if you cannot, give thanks you have lived so long, and make yourself ready in your cabin for the mischance of the hour, if it so hap. Cheerly, good hearts! Out of our way, I say. [Exit.] I have great comfort from this fellow: methinks Gon. 25 258

The Tempest he hath no drowning mark upon him; his complexion is perfect gallows. Stand fast, good Fate, to his hanging: make the rope of his destiny our cable, for our own doth little advantage. If he be not born to be hanged, our case is miserable. [Exeunt.] 30 [Re-enter Boatswain.] Boats. 35 Down with the topmast! yare! lower, lower! Bring her to try with main-course. [A cry within.] A plague upon this howling! they are louder than the weather or our office. [Re-enter Sebastian, Antonio, and Gonzalo.] Yet again! what do you here? Shall we give o’er, and drown? Have you a mind to sink? A pox o’ your throat, you bawling, blasphemous, Seb. incharitable dog! Work you, then. Boats. Ant. 40 Hang, cur! hang, you whoreson, insolent noise-maker. We are less afraid to be drowned than thou art. Gon. I’ll warrant him for drowning; though the ship were no stronger than a nutshell, and as leaky as an unstanched wench. Boats. 45 Lay her a-hold, a-hold! set her two courses off to sea again; lay her off. [Enter Mariners wet.] All lost! to prayers, to prayers! all lost! Mariners What, must our mouths be cold? Boats. The king and prince at prayers! let’s assist them, Gon. For our case is as theirs. I’m out of patience. Seb. 50 Ant. We are merely cheated of our lives by drunkards: This wide-chapp’d rascal,—would thou mightst lie drowning The washing of ten tides! He’ll be hang’d yet, Gon. Though every drop of water swear against it, 55 259

Compact Anthology of World Literature And gape at widest to glut him. [A confused noise within]: “Mercy on us!”— “We split, we split!”—“Farewell my wife and children!” —“Farewell, brother!”—“We split, we split, we split!” Let’s all sink with the king. Ant. 60 Let’s take leave of him. [Exeunt Ant. and Seb.] Seb. 65 70 Gon. 75 Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea for an 80 acre of barren ground, long heath, brown furze, any thing. 85 The wills above be done! but I would fain die a dry death. 90 [Exeunt.] Scene II—The island—Before Prospero’s cell [Enter Prospero and Miranda.] If by your art, my dearest father, you have Mir. 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, Dashes the fire out. O, I have suffer’d 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 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 The fraughting souls within her. Be collected: Pros. No more amazement: tell your piteous heart There’s no harm done. O, woe the day! Mir. No harm. Pros. I have done nothing but in care of thee, Of thee, my dear one, thee, my daughter, who 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. More to know Mir. Did never meddle with my thoughts. 260

The Tempest Pros. 95 ’Tis time 100 I should inform thee farther. Lend thy hand, 105 And pluck my magic garment from me.—So: [Lays down his mantle.] 110 Lie there, my art. Wipe thou thine eyes; have comfort. The direful spectacle of the wreck, which touch’d 115 The very virtue of compassion in thee, 120 I have with such provision in mine art 125 So safely order’d, that there is no soul, No, not so much perdition as an hair Betid to any creature in the vessel Which thou heard’st cry, which thou saw’st sink. Sit down; For thou must now know farther. You have often Mir. Begun to tell me what I am; but stopp’d, And left me to a bootless inquisition, Concluding “Stay: not yet.” The hour’s now come; Pros. The very minute bids thee ope thine ear; 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. Certainly, sir, I can. Mir. By what? by any other house or person? Pros. Of any thing the image tell me that Hath kept with thy remembrance. ’Tis far off, Mir. And rather like a dream than an assurance That my remembrance warrants. Had I not Four or five women once that tended me? Thou hadst, and more, Miranda. But how is it Pros. That this lives in thy mind? What seest thou else In the dark backward and abysm of time? If thou remember’st ought ere thou camest here, How thou camest here thou mayst. But that I do not. Mir. Twelve year since, Miranda, twelve year since, Pros. Thy father was the Duke of Milan, and A prince of power. 261

Compact Anthology of World Literature Sir, are not you my father? Mir. 130 Thy mother was a piece of virtue, and Pros. 135 She said thou wast my daughter; and thy father 140 Was Duke of Milan; and his only heir And princess, no worse issued. 145 150 O the heavens! Mir. 155 What foul play had we, that we came from thence? Or blessed was’t we did? 160 165 Both, both, my girl: Pros. By foul play, as thou say’st, were we heaved thence; But blessedly holp hither. O, my heart bleeds Mir. To think o’ the teen that I have turn’d you to. Which is from my remembrance! Please you, farther. My brother, and thy uncle, call’d Antonio,— Pros. I pray thee, mark me,—that a brother should Be so perfidious!—he whom, next thyself, Of all the world I loved, and to him put The manage of my state; as, at that time, Through all the signories 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, 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? Sir, most heedfully. Mir. Being once perfected how to grant suits, Pros. How to deny them, whom to advance, and whom To trash for over-topping, new created The creatures that were mine, I say, or changed ’em, Or else new form’d ’em; having both the key Of officer and office, set all hearts i’ the state To what tune pleased his ear; that now he was The ivy which had hid my princely trunk, And suck’d my verdure out on’t. Thou attend’st not. O, good sir, I do. Mir. 262

The Tempest Pros. 170 I pray thee, mark me. 175 I, thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicated 180 To closeness and the bettering of my mind 185 With that which, but by being so retired, O’er-prized all popular rate, in my false brother 190 Awaked an evil nature; and my trust, 195 Like a good parent, did beget of him A falsehood in its contrary, as great 200 As my trust was; which had indeed no limit, A confidence sans bound. He being thus lorded, 205 Not only with what my revenue yielded, 210 But what my power might else exact, like one Who having into truth, by telling of it, Made such a sinner of his memory, To credit his own lie, he did believe He was indeed the duke; out o’ the substitution, And executing the outward face of royalty, With all prerogative:—hence his ambition growing,— Dost thou hear? Your tale, sir, would cure deafness. Mir. To have no screen between this part he play’d Pros. 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, So dry 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!— To most ignoble stooping. O the heavens! Mir. Mark his condition, and th’ event; then tell me Pros. If this might be a brother. I should sin Mir. To think but nobly of my grandmother: Good wombs have borne bad sons. Now the condition. Pros. This King of Naples, being an enemy To me inveterate, hearkens my brother’s suit; Which was, that he, in lieu o’ the premises, Of homage and I know not how much tribute, Should presently extirpate me and mine Out of the dukedom, and confer fair Milan, With all the honours, on my brother: whereon, 263

Compact Anthology of World Literature A treacherous army levied, one midnight 215 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. Alack, for pity! Mir. I, not remembering how I cried out then, Will cry it o’er again: it is a hint 220 That wrings mine eyes to’t. Hear a little further, Pros. And then I’ll bring thee to the present business Which now’s upon ’s; without the which, this story Were most impertinent. Wherefore did they not Mir. 225 That hour destroy us? Well demanded, wench: Pros. My tale provokes that question. Dear, they durst not, So dear the love my people bore me; nor set A mark so bloody on the business; but 230 With colours fairer painted their foul ends. In few, they hurried us aboard a bark, Bore us some leagues to sea; where they prepared A rotten carcass of a boat, not rigg’d, Nor tackle, sail, nor mast; the very rats 235 Instinctively have quit it: there they hoist us, 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. Alack, what trouble Mir. 240 Was I then to you! Pros. O, a cherubin Thou wast that did preserve me. Thou didst smile, Infused with a fortitude from heaven, When I have deck’d the sea with drops full salt, 245 Under my burthen groan’d; which raised in me An undergoing stomach, to bear up Against what should ensue. How came we ashore? Mir. Image 11.17: Prospero | Prospero sits and speaks Pros. 250 with Miranda. By Providence divine. Author: Walter Crane Some food we had, and some fresh water, that Source: The University of Adelaide A noble Neapolitan, Gonzalo, License: Public Domain 264

The Tempest Out of his charity, who being then appointed 255 Master of this design, did give us, with Rich garments, linens, stuffs and necessaries, Which since have steaded much; so, of his gentleness, Knowing I loved my books, he furnish’d me From mine own library with volumes that I prize above my dukedom. Would I might Mir. 260 But ever see that man! Now I arise: [Resumes his mantle.] Pros. Sit still, and hear the last of our sea-sorrow. Here in this island we arrived; and here 265 Have I, thy schoolmaster, made thee more profit Than other princesses can, that have more time For vainer hours, and tutors not so careful. Heavens thank you for’t! And now, I pray you, sir, Mir. For still ’tis beating in my mind, your reason For raising this sea-storm? 270 Know thus far forth. Pros. By accident most strange, bountiful Fortune, Now my dear lady, hath mine enemies Brought to this shore; and by my prescience I find my zenith doth depend upon 275 A most auspicious star, whose influence If now I court not, but omit, my fortunes Will ever after droop. Here cease more questions: Thou art inclined to sleep; ’tis a good dulness, And give it way: I know thou canst not choose. [Miranda sleeps.] 280 Come away, servant, come. I am ready now. Approach, my Ariel, come. [Enter Ariel.] All hail, great master! grave sir, hail! I come Ari. To answer thy best pleasure; be’t to fly, To swim, to dive into the fire, to ride 285 On the curl’d clouds, to thy strong bidding task Ariel and all his quality. Hast thou, spirit, Pros. Perform’d to point the tempest that I bade thee? To every article. Ari. 290 I boarded the king’s ship; now on the beak, Now in the waist, the deck, in every cabin, I flamed amazement: sometime I’ld divide, And burn in many places; on the topmast, 265

Compact Anthology of World Literature The yards and bowsprit, would I flame distinctly, 295 Then meet and join. Jove’s lightnings, the precursors 300 O’ the dreadful thunder-claps, more momentary And sight-outrunning were not: the fire and cracks 305 Of sulphurous roaring the most mighty Neptune 310 Seem to besiege, and make his bold waves tremble, Yea, his dread trident shake. 315 My brave spirit! Pros. 320 Who was so firm, so constant, that this coil 325 Would not infect his reason? 330 Not a soul Ari. But felt a fever of the mad, and play’d Some tricks of desperation. All but mariners Plunged in the foaming brine, and quit the vessel, 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.” Why, that’s my spirit! Pros. But was not this nigh shore? Close by, my master. Ari. But are they, Ariel, safe? Pros. Not a hair perish’d; Ari. On their sustaining garments not a blemish, But fresher than before: and, as thou badest me, In troops I have dispersed them ’bout the isle. 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. Of the king’s ship Pros. The mariners, say how thou hast disposed, And all the rest o’ the fleet. Safely in harbour Ari. 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; Who, with a charm join’d to their suffer’d labour, I have left asleep: and for the rest o’ the fleet, 266

The Tempest Which I dispersed, they all have met again, 335 And are upon the Mediterranean flote, Bound sadly home for Naples; Supposing that they saw the king’s ship wreck’d, And his great person perish. Ariel, thy charge Pros. 340 Exactly is perform’d: but there’s more work. What is the time o’ the day? Past the mid season. Ari. At least two glasses. The time ’twixt six and now Pros. Must by us both be spent most preciously. 345 Is there more toil? Since thou dost give me pains, Ari. Let me remember thee what thou hast promised, Which is not yet perform’d me. How now? moody? Pros. What is’t thou canst demand? 350 My liberty. Ari. Before the time be out? no more! Pros. Ari. 355 I prithee, Remember I have done thee worthy service; Told thee no lies, made thee no mistakings, served Without or grudge or grumblings: thou didst promise To bate me a full year. Dost thou forget Pros. From what a torment I did free thee? Ari. No. 360 Thou dost; and think’st it much to tread the ooze Pros. Of the salt deep, To run upon the sharp wind of the north, 365 To do me business in the veins o’ the earth When it is baked with frost. I do not, sir. Ari. 267

Compact Anthology of World Literature Thou liest, malignant thing! Hast thou forgot Pros. The foul witch Sycorax, who with age and envy Was grown into a hoop? hast thou forgot her? Ari. 370 No, sir. 380 Thou hast. Where was she born? speak; tell me. Pros. Sir, in Argier. Ari. O, was she so? I must Pros. Once in a month recount what thou hast been, Which thou forget’st. This damn’d witch Sycorax, 375 For mischiefs manifold, and sorceries terrible To enter human hearing, from Argier, 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. 385 This blue-eyed hag was hither brought with child, 390 And here was left by the sailors. Thou, my slave, 395 As thou report’st thyself, wast then her servant; And, for thou wast a spirit too delicate To act her earthy and abhorr’d commands, Refusing her grand hests, she did confine thee, By help of her more potent ministers, And in her most unmitigable rage, Into a cloven pine; within which rift 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— Save for the son that she did litter here, A freckled whelp hag-born—not honour’d with A human shape. Yes, Caliban her son. Ari. Dull thing, I say so; he, that Caliban, Pros. Whom now I keep in service. Thou best know’st What torment I did find thee in; thy groans 400 Did make wolves howl, and penetrate the breasts 405 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 arrived and heard thee, that made gape The pine, and let thee out. 268

The Tempest I thank thee, master. Ari. If thou more murmur’st, I will rend an oak, Pros. And peg thee in his knotty entrails, till Thou hast howl’d away twelve winters. 410 415 Pardon, master: Ari. 420 I will be correspondent to command, 425 And do my spiriting gently. 430 435 Do so; and after two days Pros. I will discharge thee. 440 That’s my noble master! Ari. What shall I do? say what; what shall I do? 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.] Awake, dear heart, awake! thou hast slept well; Awake! The strangeness of your story put Mir. Heaviness in me. Shake it off. Come on; Pros. We’ll visit Caliban my slave, who never Yields us kind answer. ’Tis a villain, sir, Mir. I do not love to look on. But, as ’tis, Pros. We cannot miss him: he does make our fire, Fetch in our wood, and serves in offices That profit us. What, ho! slave! Caliban! Thou earth, thou! speak. [within] There’s wood enough within. Cal. Come forth, I say! there’s other business for thee: Pros. Come, thou tortoise! when? [Re-enter Ariel like a water-nymph.] 269 Fine apparition! My quaint Ariel, Hark in thine ear.

Compact Anthology of World Literature My lord, it shall be done. [Exit.] Ari. Thou poisonous slave, got by the devil himself Pros. Upon thy wicked dam, come forth! [Enter Caliban.] As wicked dew as e’er my mother brush’d Cal. With raven’s feather from unwholesome fen Drop on you both! a south-west blow on ye 445 And blister you all o’er! 450 455 For this, be sure, to-night thou shalt have cramps, Pros. 460 Side-stitches that shall pen thy breath up; urchins 465 Shall, for that vast of night that they may work, 470 All exercise on thee; thou shalt be pinch’d 475 As thick as honeycomb, each pinch more stinging 480 Than bees that made ’em. Cal. I must eat my dinner. This island’s mine, by Sycorax my mother, Which thou takest from me. When thou camest first, Thou strokedst me, and madest much of me; wouldst give me 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 loved thee, And show’d thee all the qualities o’ th’ isle, 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, Which first was mine own king: and here you sty me In this hard rock, whiles you do keep from me The rest o’ th’ island. Pros. Thou most lying slave, Whom stripes may move, not kindness! I have used thee, Filth as thou art, with human care; and lodged thee In mine own cell, till thou didst seek to violate The honour of my child. O ho, O ho! would ’t had been done! Cal. Thou didst prevent me; I had peopled else This isle with Calibans. Pros. Abhorred slave, 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, 270

The Tempest Know thine own meaning, but wouldst gabble like 485 A thing most brutish, I endow’d thy purposes 490 With words that made them known. But thy vile race, 495 Though thou didst learn, had that in’t which good natures 500 Could not abide to be with; therefore wast thou Deservedly confined into this rock, 505 Who hadst deserved more than a prison. 510 515 You taught me language; and my profit on’t Cal. 520 Is, I know how to curse. The red plague rid you 525 For learning me your language! Hag-seed, hence! Pros. Fetch us in fuel; and be quick, thou’rt best, 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, That beasts shall tremble at thy din. No, pray thee. Cal. [Aside] I must obey: his art is of such power, It would control my dam’s god, Setebos, 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, Ariel’s song. And then take hands: Courtsied when you have and kiss’d The wild waves whist: Foot it featly here and there; And, sweet sprites, the burthen bear. Burthen [dispersedly]. Hark, hark! Bow-wow. The watch-dogs bark: Bow-wow. Ari. Hark, hark! I hear The strain of strutting chanticleer Cry, Cock-a-diddle-dow. Where should this music be? i’ th’ air or th’ earth? Fer. It sounds no more: and, sure, it waits upon Some god o’ th’ island. Sitting on a bank, Weeping again the king my father’s wreck, 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. No, it begins again. 271

Compact Anthology of World Literature [Ariel sings.] 530 Full fathom five thy father lies; 535 Of his bones are coral made; 540 Those are pearls that were his eyes: 545 Nothing of him that doth fade, 550 But doth suffer a sea-change Into something rich and strange. 555 Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell: 560 Burthen: Ding-dong. Hark! now I hear them,—Ding-dong, bell. Ari. The ditty does remember my drown’d father. Fer. This is no mortal business, nor no sound That the earth owes:—I hear it now above me. The fringed curtains of thine eye advance, Pros. And say what thou seest yond. What is’t? a spirit? Mir. 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 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, And strays about to find ’em. I might call him Mir. A thing divine; for nothing natural I ever saw so noble. Pros. [Aside] It goes on, I see, As my soul prompts it. Spirit, fine spirit! I’ll free thee Within two days for this. Most sure, the goddess Fer. 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, Which I do last pronounce, is, O you wonder! If you be maid or no? No wonder, sir; Mir. But certainly a maid. 272

The Tempest My language! heavens! Fer. I am the best of them that speak this speech, Were I but where ’tis spoken. 565 570 How? the best? Pros. 575 What wert thou, if the King of Naples heard thee? 580 585 A single thing, as I am now, that wonders Fer. 590 To hear thee speak of Naples. He does hear me; 595 And that he does I weep: myself am Naples, Who with mine eyes, never since at ebb, beheld The king my father wreck’d. Alack, for mercy! Mir. Yes, faith, and all his lords; the Duke of Milan Fer. And his brave son being twain. [Aside] Pros. The Duke of Milan And his more braver daughter could control thee, If now ’twere fit to do’t. At the first sight They have changed 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. Why speaks my father so ungently? This Mir. Is the third man that e’er I saw; the first That e’er I sigh’d for: pity move my father To be inclined my way! O, if a virgin, Fer. 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 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 owest not; and hast put thyself Upon this island as a spy, to win it From me, the lord on’t. No, as I am a man. Fer. 273

Compact Anthology of World Literature There’s nothing ill can dwell in such a temple: Mir. If the ill spirit have so fair a house, Good things will strive to dwell with’t. 600 Follow me. Pros. Speak not you for him; he’s a traitor. Come; I’ll manacle thy neck and feet together: 605 Sea-water shalt thou drink; thy food shall be The fresh-brook muscles, wither’d roots, and husks Wherein the acorn cradled. Follow. Fer. No; I will resist such entertainment till Mine enemy has more power. [Draws, and is charmed from moving.] 610 O dear father, Mir. Make not too rash a trial of him, for He’s gentle, and not fearful. Pros. 615 What! I say, My foot my tutor? Put thy sword up, traitor; Who makest a show, but darest 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. Beseech you, father. Mir. 620 Hence! hang not on my garments. Pros. Sir, have pity; Mir. I’ll be his surety. Silence! one word more Pros. Shall make me chide thee, if not hate thee. What! An advocate for an impostor! hush! 625 Thou think’st there is no more such shapes as he, 630 Having seen but him and Caliban: foolish wench! To the most of men this is a Caliban, And they to him are angels. My affections Mir. Are, then, most humble; I have no ambition To see a goodlier man. Come on; obey: Pros. 274

The Tempest Thy nerves are in their infancy again, 635 And have no vigour in them. 640 645 So they are: Fer. My spirits, as in a dream, are all bound up. 650 My father’s loss, the weakness which I feel, 655 The wreck of all my friends, nor this man’s threats, To whom I am subdued, are but light to me, 660 Might I but through my prison once a day 665 Behold this maid: all corners else o’ th’ earth Let liberty make use of; space enough Have I in such a prison. [Aside] Pros. It works. [To Fer.] Come on. Thou hast done well, fine Ariel! [To Fer.] Follow me. [To Ari.] Hark what thou else shalt do me. Be of comfort; Mir. My father’s of a better nature, sir, Than he appears by speech: this is unwonted Which now came from him. Thou shalt be as free Pros. As mountain winds: but then exactly do All points of my command. To the syllable. Ari. Come, follow. Speak not for him. [Exeunt.] Pros. ACT II Scene I—Another part of the island [Enter Alonso, Sebastian, Antonio, Gonzalo, Adrian, Francisco, and others.] Beseech you, sir, be merry; you have cause, Gon. 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. Prithee, peace. Alon. 275

Compact Anthology of World Literature He receives comfort like cold porridge. Seb. The visitor will not give him o’er so. Ant. Look, he’s winding up the watch of his wit; by and Seb. 670 by it will strike. 675 680 Sir,— Gon. 685 One: tell. Seb. When every grief is entertain’d that’s offer’d, Gon. Comes to the entertainer— A dollar. Seb. Dolour comes to him, indeed: you have spoken Gon. truer than you purposed. Seb. You have taken it wiselier than I meant you should. Therefore, my lord,— Gon. Fie, what a spendthrift is he of his tongue! Ant. I prithee, spare. Alon. Well, I have done: but yet,— Gon. He will be talking. Seb. Ant. Which, of he or Adrian, for a good wager, first begins to crow? The old cock Seb. . Ant. The cockerel. Done. The wager? Seb. 276

The Tempest A laughter. Ant. A match! Seb. 690 Though this island seem to be desert,— Adr. Ha, ha, ha!—So, you’re paid. Seb. Uninhabitable, and almost inaccessible,— Adr. Yet,— Seb. Adr. Yet,— 695 Ant. He could not miss’t. Adr. It must needs be of subtle, tender and delicate temperance. Temperance was a delicate wench. Ant. Ay, and a subtle; as he most learnedly delivered. Seb. The air breathes upon us here most sweetly. Adr. 700 As if it had lungs, and rotten ones. Seb. Or as ’twere perfumed by a fen. Ant. Here is every thing advantageous to life. Gon. True; save means to live. Ant. Of that there’s none, or little. Seb. 705 How lush and lusty the grass looks! how green! Gon. The ground, indeed, is tawny. Ant. 277

Compact Anthology of World Literature With an eye of green in’t. Seb. He misses not much. Ant. No; he doth but mistake the truth totally. Seb. 710 715 Gon. 720 But the rarity of it is,—which is indeed almost beyond credit,— 725 730 As many vouched rarities are. Seb. That our garments, being, as they were, drenched Gon. in the sea, hold, notwithstanding, their freshness and glosses, being rather new-dyed than stained with salt water. Ant. If but one of his pockets could speak, would it not say he lies? Ay, or very falsely pocket up his report. Seb. Gon. Methinks our garments are now as fresh as when we put them on first in Afric, at the marriage of the king’s fair daughter Claribel to the King of Tunis. Seb. ’Twas a sweet marriage, and we prosper well in our return. Adr. Tunis was never graced before with such a paragon to their queen. Not since widow Dido’s time. Gon. Ant. Widow! a pox o’ that! How came that widow in? widow Dido! What if he had said ‘widower Æneas’ too? Seb. Good Lord, how you take it! ‘Widow Dido’ said you? you make me study Adr. of that: she was of Carthage, not of Tunis. This Tunis, sir, was Carthage. Gon. Carthage? Adr. 278

The Tempest I assure you, Carthage. Gon. His word is more than the miraculous harp; Seb. he hath raised the wall, and houses too. What impossible matter will he make easy next? Ant. 735 I think he will carry this island home in Seb. his pocket, and give it his son for an apple. And, sowing the kernels of it in the sea, Ant. bring forth more islands. Gon. Ay. 740 Why, in good time. Ant. Sir, we were talking that our garments seem Gon. now as fresh as when we were at Tunis at the marriage of your daughter, who is now queen. And the rarest that e’er came there. Ant. 745 Bate, I beseech you, widow Dido. Seb. O, widow Dido! ay, widow Dido. Ant. Gon. Is not, sir, my doublet as fresh as the first day I wore it? I mean, in a sort. That sort was well fished for. Ant. 750 When I wore it at your daughter’s marriage? Gon. You cram these words into mine ears against Alon. The stomach of my sense. Would I had never Married my daughter there! for, coming thence, 755 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? 279

Compact Anthology of World Literature Sir, he may live: Fran. 760 I saw him beat the surges under him, 765 And ride upon their backs; he trod the water. 770 Whose enmity he flung aside, and breasted 775 The surge most swoln that met him; his bold head ’Bove the contentious waves he kept, and oar’d 780 Himself with his good arms in lusty stroke 785 To the shore, that o’er his wave-worn basis bow’d, As stooping to relieve him: I not doubt 790 He came alive to land. No, no, he’s gone. Alon. Sir, you may thank yourself for this great loss, Seb. 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. Prithee, peace. Alon. Seb. 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 son, 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. So is the dear’st o’ the loss. Alon. My lord Sebastian, Gon. The truth you speak doth lack some gentleness, And time to speak it in: you rub the sore, When you should bring the plaster. Very well. Seb. And most chirurgeonly. Ant. It is foul weather in us all, good sir, Gon. When you are cloudy. Foul weather? Seb. 280

The Tempest Very foul. Ant. 795 Had I plantation of this isle, my lord,— Gon. 800 805 He’ld sow’t with nettle-seed. Ant. 810 815 Or docks, or mallows. Seb. 820 And were the king on’t, what would I do? Gon. ’Scape being drunk for want of wine. Seb. I’ the commonwealth I would by contraries Gon. Execute all things; for no kind of traffic Would I admit; no name of magistrate; Letters should not be known; riches, poverty, And use of service, none; contract, succession, Bourn, bound of land, tilth, vineyard, none; No use of metal, corn, or wine, or oil; No occupation; all men idle, all; And women too, but innocent and pure; No sovereignty;— Yet he would be king on’t. Seb. Ant. The latter end of his commonwealth forgets the beginning. All things in common nature should produce Gon. Without sweat or endeavour: treason, felony, Sword, pike, knife, gun, or need of any engine, Would I not have; but nature should bring forth, Of its own kind, all foison, all abundance, To feed my innocent people. No marrying ’mong his subjects? Seb. None, man; all idle; whores and knaves. Ant. I would with such perfection govern, sir, Gon. To excel the golden age. ’Save his majesty! Seb. 281

Compact Anthology of World Literature Long live Gonzalo! Ant. And,—do you mark me, sir? Gon. 825 830 Prithee, no more: thou dost talk nothing to me. Alon. 835 I do well believe your highness; and did it to Gon. minister occasion to these gentlemen, who are 840 of such sensible and nimble lungs that they 845 always use to laugh at nothing. 850 ’Twas you we laughed at. Ant. Gon. Who in this kind of merry fooling am nothing to you: so you may continue, and laugh at nothing still. What a blow was there given! Ant. An it had not fallen flat-long. Seb. You are gentlemen of brave mettle; you would Gon. lift the moon out of her sphere, if she would continue in it five weeks without changing. [Enter Ariel (invisible) playing solemn music.] We would so, and then go a bat-fowling. Seb. Nay, good my lord, be not angry. Ant. Gon. No, I warrant you; I will not adventure my discretion so weakly. Will you laugh me asleep, for I am very heavy? Go sleep, and hear us. Ant. [All sleep except Alon., Seb., and Ant.] Alon. What, all so soon asleep! I wish mine eyes Would, with themselves, shut up my thoughts: I find They are inclined to do so. Please you, sir, Seb. Do not omit the heavy offer of it: It seldom visits sorrow; when it doth, It is a comforter. 282

The Tempest We two, my lord, Ant. Will guard your person while you take your rest, And watch your safety. Thank you.—Wondrous heavy. Alon. 855 [Alonso sleeps. Exit Ariel.] Seb. What a strange drowsiness possesses them! 860 865 It is the quality o’ the climate. Ant. 870 875 Why Seb. 880 Doth it not then our eyelids sink? I find not Myself disposed to sleep. Ant. Nor I; my spirits are nimble. They fell together all, as by consent; They dropp’d, as by a thunder-stroke. What might, Worthy Sebastian?—O, what might?—No more:— And yet methinks I see it in thy face, What thou shouldst be: the occasion speaks thee; and My strong imagination sees a crown Dropping upon thy head. What, art thou waking? Seb. Do you not hear me speak? Ant. I do; and surely Seb. It is a sleepy language, and thou speak’st Out of thy sleep. What is it thou didst say? This is a strange repose, to be asleep With eyes wide open; standing, speaking, moving, And yet so fast asleep. Noble Sebastian, Ant. Thou let’st thy fortune sleep—die, rather; wink’st Whiles thou art waking. Thou dost snore distinctly; Seb. There’s meaning in thy snores. I am more serious than my custom: you Ant. Must be so too, if heed me; which to do Trebles thee o’er. 283

Compact Anthology of World Literature Well, I am standing water. Seb. 885 I’ll teach you how to flow. Ant. Do so: to ebb Seb. 890 Hereditary sloth instructs me. Ant. 895 O, 900 If you but knew how you the purpose cherish Seb. 905 Whiles thus you mock it! how, in stripping it, Ant. You more invest it! Ebbing men, indeed, 910 Most often do so near the bottom run Seb. 915 By their own fear or sloth. Ant. Prithee, say on: The setting of thine eye and cheek proclaim Seb. A matter from thee; and a birth, indeed, Ant. Which throes thee much to yield. Seb. Thus, sir: Although this lord of weak remembrance, this, Who shall be of as little memory When he is earth’d, hath here almost persuaded,— For he’s a spirit of persuasion, only Professes to persuade,—the king his son’s alive, ’Tis as impossible that he’s undrown’d As he that sleeps here swims. I have no hope That he’s undrown’d. O, out of that ‘no hope’ What great hope have you! no hope that way is Another way so high a hope that even Ambition cannot pierce a wink beyond, But doubt discovery there. Will you grant with me That Ferdinand is drown’d? He’s gone. Then, tell me, Who’s the next heir of Naples? Claribel. 284

The Tempest She that is queen of Tunis; she that dwells Ant. Ten leagues beyond man’s life; she that from Naples Can have no note, unless the sun were post,— 920 The man i’ the moon’s too slow,—till new-born chins 925 Be rough and razorable; she that from whom 930 We all were sea-swallow’d, though some cast again, 935 And by that destiny, to perform an act 940 Whereof what’s past is prologue; what to come, In yours and my discharge. 945 What stuff is this! How say you? Seb. 950 ’Tis true, my brother’s daughter’s queen of Tunis; So is she heir of Naples; ’twixt which regions 955 There is some space. A space whose every cubit Ant. Seems to cry out, “How shall that Claribel Measure us back to Naples? Keep in Tunis, And let Sebastian wake.” Say, this were death That now hath seized them; why, they were no worse Than now they are. There be that can rule Naples As well as he that sleeps; lords that can prate As amply and unnecessarily As this Gonzalo; I myself could make A chough of as deep chat. O, that you bore The mind that I do! what a sleep were this For your advancement! Do you understand me? Methinks I do. Seb. And how does your content Ant. Tender your own good fortune? I remember Seb. You did supplant your brother Prospero. True: Ant. And look how well my garments sit upon me; Much feater than before: my brother’s servants Were then my fellows; now they are my men. But for your conscience. Seb. Ay, sir; where lies that? if ’twere a kibe, Ant. ’Twould put me to my slipper: but I feel not This deity in my bosom: twenty consciences, 285

Compact Anthology of World Literature That stand ’twixt me and Milan, candied be they, 960 And melt, ere they molest! Here lies your brother, 965 No better than the earth he lies upon, 970 If he were that which now he’s like, that’s dead; 975 Whom I, with this obedient steel, three inches of it, Can lay to bed for ever; whiles you, doing thus, 980 To the perpetual wink for aye might put 985 This ancient morsel, this Sir Prudence, who Should not upbraid our course. For all the rest, 990 They’ll take suggestion as a cat laps milk; They’ll tell the clock to any business that We say befits the hour. Thy case, dear friend, Seb. Shall be my precedent; as thou got’st Milan, I’ll come by Naples. Draw thy sword: one stroke Shall free thee from the tribute which thou payest; And I the king shall love thee. Draw together; Ant. And when I rear my hand, do you the like, To fall it on Gonzalo. O, but one word. [They talk apart.] Seb. [Re-enter Ariel invisible.] My master through his art foresees the danger Ari. That you, his friend, are in; and sends me forth,— For else his project dies,—to keep them living. [Sings in Gonzalo’s ear.] While you here do snoring lie, Open-eyed conspiracy His time doth take. If of life you keep a care, Shake off slumber, and beware: Awake, awake! Then let us both be sudden. Ant. Now, good angels Gon. Preserve the king! [They wake.] Why, how now? ho, awake!—Why are you drawn? Alon. Wherefore this ghastly looking? What’s the matter? Gon. Whiles we stood here securing your repose, Seb. 286

The Tempest Even now, we heard a hollow burst of bellowing Alon. 995 Like bulls, or rather lions: did’t not wake you? Ant. 1000 It struck mine ear most terribly. 1005 I heard nothing. Alon. 1010 O, ’twas a din to fright a monster’s ear, Gon. To make an earthquake! sure, it was the roar 1015 Of a whole herd of lions. Alon. 1020 Heard you this, Gonzalo? Gon. 1025 Upon mine honour, sir, I heard a humming, Alon. And that a strange one too, which did awake me: Ari. 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. Lead off this ground; and let’s make further search For my poor son. Heavens keep him from these beasts! For he is, sure, i’ th’ island. Lead away. Prospero my lord shall know what I have done: So, king, go safely on to seek thy son. [Exeunt.] Scene II—Another part of the island [Enter Caliban with a burden of wood. A noise of thunder heard.] All the infections that the sun sucks up Cal. From bogs, fens, flats, on Prosper fall, and make him By inch-meal a disease! His spirits hear me, And yet I needs must curse. But they’ll nor pinch, Fright me with urchin-shows, pitch me i’ the mire, Nor lead me, like a firebrand, in the dark Out of my way, unless he bid ’em: but For every trifle are they set upon me; Sometime like apes, that mow and chatter at me, And after bite me; then like hedgehogs, which Lie tumbling in my barefoot way, and mount Their pricks at my footfall; sometime am I All wound with adders, who with cloven tongues Do hiss me into madness. 287