Speeches (Lines) for Iris in "The Tempest"

Total: 4
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# Act / Scene Speech text
1 IV / 1
  • Ceres, most bounteous lady, thy rich leas
    Of wheat, rye, barley, vetches, oa...
  • Ceres, most bounteous lady, thy rich leas
    Of wheat, rye, barley, vetches, oats and pease;
    Thy turfy mountains, where live nibbling sheep,
    And flat meads thatch'd with stover, them to keep;
    Thy banks with pioned and twilled brims,
    Which spongy April at thy hest betrims,
    To make cold nymphs chaste crowns; and thy broom -groves,
    Whose shadow the dismissed bachelor loves,
    Being lass-lorn: thy pole-clipt vineyard;
    And thy sea-marge, sterile and rocky-hard,
    Where thou thyself dost air;--the queen o' the sky,
    Whose watery arch and messenger am I,
    Bids thee leave these, and with her sovereign grace,
    Here on this grass-plot, in this very place,
    To come and sport: her peacocks fly amain:
    Approach, rich Ceres, her to entertain.
  • Prospero. Well.
    Now come, my Ariel! bring a corollary,
    Rather than want a spirit: appear and pertly!
    No tongue! all eyes! be silent.

    Iris. Ceres, most bounteous lady, thy rich leas
    Of wheat, rye, barley, vetches, oats and pease;
    Thy turfy mountains, where live nibbling sheep,
    And flat meads thatch'd with stover, them to keep;
    Thy banks with pioned and twilled brims,
    Which spongy April at thy hest betrims,
    To make cold nymphs chaste crowns; and thy broom -groves,
    Whose shadow the dismissed bachelor loves,
    Being lass-lorn: thy pole-clipt vineyard;
    And thy sea-marge, sterile and rocky-hard,
    Where thou thyself dost air;--the queen o' the sky,
    Whose watery arch and messenger am I,
    Bids thee leave these, and with her sovereign grace,
    Here on this grass-plot, in this very place,
    To come and sport: her peacocks fly amain:
    Approach, rich Ceres, her to entertain.

2 IV / 1
  • A contract of true love to celebrate;
    And some donation freely to estate
  • A contract of true love to celebrate;
    And some donation freely to estate
    On the blest lovers.
  • Ceres. Hail, many-colour'd messenger, that ne'er
    Dost disobey the wife of Jupiter;
    Who with thy saffron wings upon my flowers
    Diffusest honey-drops, refreshing showers,
    And with each end of thy blue bow dost crown
    My bosky acres and my unshrubb'd down,
    Rich scarf to my proud earth; why hath thy queen
    Summon'd me hither, to this short-grass'd green?

    Iris. A contract of true love to celebrate;
    And some donation freely to estate
    On the blest lovers.

3 IV / 1
  • Of her society
    Be not afraid: I met her deity
    Cutting the clouds towards...
  • Of her society
    Be not afraid: I met her deity
    Cutting the clouds towards Paphos and her son
    Dove-drawn with her. Here thought they to have done
    Some wanton charm upon this man and maid,
    Whose vows are, that no bed-right shall be paid
    Till Hymen's torch be lighted: but vain;
    Mars's hot minion is returned again;
    Her waspish-headed son has broke his arrows,
    Swears he will shoot no more but play with sparrows
    And be a boy right out.
  • Ceres. Tell me, heavenly bow,
    If Venus or her son, as thou dost know,
    Do now attend the queen? Since they did plot
    The means that dusky Dis my daughter got,
    Her and her blind boy's scandal'd company
    I have forsworn.

    Iris. Of her society
    Be not afraid: I met her deity
    Cutting the clouds towards Paphos and her son
    Dove-drawn with her. Here thought they to have done
    Some wanton charm upon this man and maid,
    Whose vows are, that no bed-right shall be paid
    Till Hymen's torch be lighted: but vain;
    Mars's hot minion is returned again;
    Her waspish-headed son has broke his arrows,
    Swears he will shoot no more but play with sparrows
    And be a boy right out.

4 IV / 1
  • You nymphs, call'd Naiads, of the windring brooks,
    With your sedged crowns a...
  • You nymphs, call'd Naiads, of the windring brooks,
    With your sedged crowns and ever-harmless looks,
    Leave your crisp channels and on this green land
    Answer your summons; Juno does command:
    Come, temperate nymphs, and help to celebrate
    A contract of true love; be not too late.
    [Enter certain Nymphs]
    You sunburnt sicklemen, of August weary,
    Come hither from the furrow and be merry:
    Make holiday; your rye-straw hats put on
    And these fresh nymphs encounter every one
    In country footing.
    [Enter certain Reapers, properly habited: they]
    join with the Nymphs in a graceful dance;
    towards the end whereof PROSPERO starts
    suddenly, and speaks; after which, to a
    strange, hollow, and confused noise, they
    heavily vanish]
  • Prospero. Sweet, now, silence!
    Juno and Ceres whisper seriously;
    There's something else to do: hush, and be mute,
    Or else our spell is marr'd.

    Iris. You nymphs, call'd Naiads, of the windring brooks,
    With your sedged crowns and ever-harmless looks,
    Leave your crisp channels and on this green land
    Answer your summons; Juno does command:
    Come, temperate nymphs, and help to celebrate
    A contract of true love; be not too late.
    [Enter certain Nymphs]
    You sunburnt sicklemen, of August weary,
    Come hither from the furrow and be merry:
    Make holiday; your rye-straw hats put on
    And these fresh nymphs encounter every one
    In country footing.
    [Enter certain Reapers, properly habited: they]
    join with the Nymphs in a graceful dance;
    towards the end whereof PROSPERO starts
    suddenly, and speaks; after which, to a
    strange, hollow, and confused noise, they
    heavily vanish]

© Copyright 2017-2022 Shakespeare Network - Maximianno Cobra - All rights reserved.

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© Copyright 2017-2022 Shakespeare Network - Maximianno Cobra - All rights reserved.