All language subtitles for The Tempest.1979.720p.BluRay.AVC-mfcorrea.EN 23.976

Storm, storm!

Yare, yare! Take in the topsail.

Down with the topmast.
Yare, lower, lower!

Lay her a-hold, a-hold.

We split, we split!

We split, we split!

Farewell, my wife and children!

We split, we split!

All lost! All lost!

The ground, ground!

Come away, servant; come;
I am ready now.

Come away! My Ariel! Approach. Come.

I am ready for you now, My Ariel!

Come!

Come!

All hail, great master! Grave sir, hail!

I come to answer thy best pleasure

Be't to fly, to swim,
to dive into the fire

to ride on the curl'd clouds.

To thy strong bidding task
Ariel and all his quality.

Hast thou, spirit,

Perform'd to point the tempest
that I bade thee?

To every article.

I boarded the King's ship;

Now on the beak,
Now in the waist, the deck,

In every cabin,
I flam'd amazement.

My brave spirit!

Not a soul
But felt a fever of the mad

All Plung'd in the foaming brine,
and quit the vessel,

The King's son, Ferdinand,

Was the first man that leapt;
cried 'Hell is empty,

And all the devils are here. '

Slave! Caliban!
Thou earth...

'Tis a villain, sir,
I do not like to look on.

But as 'tis,
We cannot miss him

He makes our fire,

Fetch in our wood, and serves in offices.
That profit us.

Be conected;

No more amazement.

Canst thou remember
A time before we came unto this cell?

'Tis time
I should inform thee farther.

I do not think thou canst

for then thou wast not
Out three years old.

Certainly, sir, I can.

'Tis far off

And rather like a dream.

Had I not four, or five, women once,
that tended me?

Thou hadst, and more.

What seest thou else
In the dark backward and abysm of time?

Thou poisonous slave

Got by the devil himself
Upon thy wicked dam, come forth!

As wicked dew as e'er my mother brush'd

With raven's feather
from unwholesome fen

Drop on you both!
A south-west blow on ye

And blister you all o'er!

For this to-night, be sure,
thou shalt have cramps,

Side-stitches
that shall pen thy breath up.

Thou shalt be pinch'd
As thick as honeycomb,

Each pinch more stinging
Than bees that made 'em.

I must eat my dinner.

This island's mine,
by Sycorax my mother,

Which thou tak'st from me.
When thou cam'st first,

Thou strok'st me and made much of me,

And then I lov'd thee,

And show'd thee
all the qualities o' th' isle,

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.

Thou most lying slave,
I have us'd thee,

Filth as thou art, with human care,
And lodg'd thee in mine own cell,

Till thou didst seek to violate
my child.

O ho, O ho! Would't had been done.
Thou didst prevent me.

I had peopl'd else
This isle with Calibans.

You taught me language,

And my profit on't
Is, I know how to curse.

The red plague rid you
For learning me your language!

Hag-seed, hence!
Fetch us in fuel. And be quick!

If thou neglect'st

Or dost unwillingly
What I command

I'll rack thee with old cramps,

Fill all thy bones with aches,
So, slave, hence!

I must obey. His art is of such pow'r,

It would control my dam's god, Setebos,
And make a vassal of him.

A devil, a born devil, on whose nature
Nurture can never stick

On whom my pains, humanely taken,
all lost, quite lost;

And as with age his body uglier grows,

So his mind cankers.

There's no harm done.
Have comfort.

Thou art inclin'd to sleep;

'Tis a good dullness, and give it way.

Safely in harbour
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.

The mariners all under hatches stowed,
I have left asleep.

The King's son have I landed by himself.

The time 'twixt six
Must by us both be spent most preciously.

Is there more toil? What shall I do?
Say what. What shall I do?

Go make thyself like a nymph o' th' sea

Be subject
To no sight but thine and mine

Invisible
To every eyeball else.

Full fathom five thy father lies;

Of his bones are coral made;

Those are pearls that were his eyes;

Nothing of him that doth fade

But doth suffer a sea-change

Into something rich and strange.

Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell:

Ding-dong.

Where should this music be?
I' th' air or th' earth?

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.

Honour, riches, marriage-blessing,
Long continuance, and increasing,

Hourly joys be still upon you!
Juno sings her blessings on you.

Earth's increase, foison plenty,
Barns and gamers never empty;

Vines with clust'ring bunches growing,
Plants with goodly burden bowing;

Spring come to you at the farthest,
In the very end of harvest!

What is't? A spirit?

No, wench; it eats and sleeps
And hath such senses as we have.

For nothing natural
I ever saw so noble.

It goes on,
As my soul prompts it.

Spirit, fine spirit! I'll free thee
Within two days for this.

Most sure, the goddess
On whom these airs attend!

I charge thee.
Thee hast put thyself

Upon this island as a spy
to win it from me!

No, as I am a man.

Follow me.
Speak not you for him; he's a traitor.

- O dear father...
- Silence!

Make not too rash a trial of him,
He's gentle.

Silence! One word more shall make me
chide thee, if not hate thee.

Foolish wench!
To th' most of men this is a Caliban.

Beat him enough;
After a little time, I'll beat him too.

Come; I'll manacle thy feet.

Sea-water shalt thou drink.

Thy food shall be wither'd roots,
and husks wherein the acorn cradled.

There's nothing ill
can dwell in such a temple.

If the ill spirit have so fair a house,

Good things will strive to dwell with't.

Be of comfort;

My father's of a better nature, sir,
Than he appears by speech;

This is unwonted
which now came from him.

If you'll sit down,

- I'll bear your logs. Give me that.
- No, precious creature!

I had rather crack my sinews,
Than you should such dishonour undergo.

Up! Up follow!

My spirits, as in a dream,
are all bound up.

My father's loss,

The wreck of all my friends,
The weakness which I feel,

But light to me,

Might I but through my prison once a day
Behold this maid.

Fair encounter
Of two most rare affections!

Thou hast done well, fine Ariel!

Thou shalt be as free
As mountain winds.

But then exactly do
All points of my command.

To th' syllable.

Beseech you, sir, be merry;
you have cause, so have we all, of joy.

For our escape
Is much beyond our loss.

Our hint of woe is common;
every day, some sailor's wife,

The masters of some merchant,
and the merchant,

Have just our theme of woe;
but for the miracle,

I mean our preservation,
few in millions

Can speak like us.
Then wisely, good sir, weigh

Our sorrow with our comfort.

He receives comfort
like cold porridge.

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.

'Twas a sweet marriage,
and we prosper well in our return.

You cram these words into mine ears.

Would I had never
Married my daughter there.

For, coming thence,
My son is lost;

I ne'er again shall see her.

Will you grant with me
That Ferdinand is drown'd?

He's gone.

Then tell me,
Who's the next heir of Naples?

Claribel.

She that is Queen of Tunis; she that
dwells ten leagues beyond man's life;

She that from Naples can have no note,
unless the sun were post,

The Man i' th' Moon's too slow.

What a sleep were this
For your advancement!

- Do you understand me?
- Methinks I do.

Here lies your brother,
No better than the earth he lies upon.

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.

While you here do snoring lie,

Open-ey'd conspiracy
His time doth take.

If of life you keep a care,
Shake off slumber, and beware.

Awake, awake!

Good angels
Preserve the King!

Why, how now? - Why are you drawn?
Wherefore this ghastly looking?

Whiles we stood here
securing your repose,

we heard a hollow
burst of bellowing.

I heard nothing.

Sure it was the roar
Of a whole herd of lions.

Heard you this, Gonzalo?

I heard a humming,
And that a strange one

'Tis best we stand upon our guard,

Let's make further search
For my poor son.

Lead away.

Prospero my lord shall know
what I have done;

So, King, go safely
on to seek thy son.

You have often
Begun to tell me what I am,

But stopp'd,
Concluding 'Stay; not yet. '

The hour's now come.

The very minute bids thee ope thine ear.
Obey, and be attentive.

Twelve year since, Miranda,
twelve year since,

Thy father was the Duke of Milan, and
A prince of power.

O, the heavens!

What foul play had we
that we came from thence?

Being transported
And rapt in secret studies...

The government I cast upon my brother
And to my state grew stranger.

- Thy false uncle
- I have turn'd you.

I pray thee, mark me
that a brother should be so perfidious.

He being thus lorded,

Not only with what my revenue yielded,

But what my power might else exact,

He did believe
He was indeed the Duke;

Hence his ambition growing-
Dost thou hear?

Your tale, sir, would cure deafness.

He needs will be
Absolute Milan.

Me, poor man-my library
Was dukedom large enough

Of temporal royalties
He thinks me now incapable.

Now the condition:
This King of Naples, being an enemy

To me inveterate,
hearkens my brother's suit;

Which was, that he should
extirpate me and mine

Out of the dukedom,
and confer fair Milan on my brother.

Alack, for pity!

They hurried us aboard a bark,

Bore us some leagues to sea,

Where they prepared
A rotten carcass of a butt,

Not rigg'd, the rats
Instinctively have quit it.

There they hoist us,
To cry to th' sea, that roar'd to us

Alack, what trouble
Was I then to you!

O, a cherubin

Thou wast that did preserve me!

Thou didst smile,
Infused with a fortitude from heaven...

I pray you, sir,
For still 'tis beating in my mind

Your reason
For raising this sea-storm?

Know thus far forth:

By accident most strange, bountiful Fortune,

hath mine enemies
Brought to this shore;

and by my prescience
I find my zenith doth depend upon

A most auspicious star...

All the infections that the sun sucks up

From bogs, fens, flats, on Prosper fall,
and make him by inch-meal a disease!

Here comes a spirit of his,

And to torment me
For bringing wood in slowly.

I'll fall flat;
Perchance he will not mind me.

Stephano, Stephano,
What have we here? A man or a fish?

Smells like a fish; a very ancient and
fish-like smell.

Do not torment me, prithee;
I'll bring my wood home faster.

He's in his fit now, and does not talk
after the wisest.

Open your mouth; here is
that which will give language to you.

Hast thou not dropp'd from heaven?

Out o' th' moon, I do assure thee.

I'll show thee every fertile
o' th' island;

And will kiss thy foot.
I prithee be my god.

Come on, then; down, and swear.
Come, kiss, moon-calf!

A plague upon the tyrant that I serve!

I'll bear him no more sticks,
but follow thee,

Thou wondrous man.

A most ridiculous monster,
to make a wonder of a poor drunkard!

I prithee let me bring thee
where crabs grow;

And I with my long nails
will dig thee pig-nuts;

Show thee a jay's nest,
and instruct thee how

To snare the nimble marmoset;
I'll bring thee

To clust'ring filberts,
and sometimes I'll get thee

Young scamels from the rock.
Wilt thou go with me?

I prithee now,
lead the way without any more talking.

Trinculo, the King and all our company
else being drown'd,

We will inherit here.
Here, bear my bottle.

Farewell, master; farewell, farewell!

No more dams I'll make for fish;

Nor fetch in firing at requiring,
Nor scrape trenchering, nor wash dish.

'Ban 'Ban, Ca-Caliban,
Has a new master-Get a new man.

Freedom, high-day! High-day, freedom!
Freedom, high-day, freedom!

Had I plantation of this isle, my lord-

And were the king on't, what would I do?

Scape being drunk for want of wine.

I' th' commonwealth I would
by contraries 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...

Honour, riches, marriage-blessing,

Long continuance, and increasing,

Hourly joys be still upon you!

Juno sings her blessings on you.

Earth's increase, foison plenty,

Barns and gamers never empty;

Vines with clust'ring bunches growing,

Plants with goodly burden bowing;

Spring come to you at the farthest,

In the very end of harvest!

Monsieur Monster!

'Tis a custom with him
I' th' afternoon to sleep;

Monsieur Monster!

There thou mayst brain him,
Having first seiz'd his books;

Or batter his skull,
or paunch him with a stake,

Or cut his wezand with thy knife.

Monster!

Remember
First to possess his books;

For without them
he's but a sot, as I am,

Nor hath not one spirit to command;

Monsieur Monster!

And that most deeply to consider is
The beauty of his daughter;

He himself
Calls her a nonpareil.

I never saw a woman
But only Sycorax my dam and she;

But she as far surpasseth Sycorax.

Monster, I will kill this man;

His daughter and I
will be King and Queen-

And Trinculo
and thyself shall be viceroys.

Dost thou like the plot, Trinculo?

Work not so hard; I would the lightning
had burnt up those logs.

My father is hard at study.

'Tis fresh morning when you are by.

What is your name?

Miranda.

O my father,
I have broke your hest to say so!

I am, in my condition,
A prince, Miranda; I do think, a king-

The very instant that I saw you, did
My heart fly to your service;

And for your sake
Am I this patient log-man.

Do you love me?

Beyond all limit
of what else i' th' world,

Do love, prize, honour you.

I am a fool
To weep at what I am glad of.

Wherefore weep you?

At mine unworthiness,
that dare not offer

What I desire to give,
and much less take

What I shall die to want.

I am your wife, if you will marry me.

My mistress, dearest.

My husband, then?

- Ay, with a heart as willing
- And mine, with my heart in't.

And now farewell
Till half an hour hence.

Some kinds of baseness
Are nobly undergone,

And most poor matters
Point to rich ends.

This my mean task
Would be as heavy to me as odious,

But the mistress
which I serve quickens what's dead,

And makes my labours pleasures.

O, she is ten times more gentle
than her father's crabbed;

And he's compos'd of harshness.

Servant-monster!
The folly of this island!

They say there's but five
upon this isle:

We are three of them; if th' other two
be brain'd like us, the state totters.

As I told thee before,
I am subject to a tyrant, a sorcerer

That by his cunning hath
cheated me of the island.

By sorcery he got this isle.

From me he got it.
If thy greatness will revenge it.

Thou shalt be lord of it,
and I'll serve thee.

How now shall this be compass'd?
Canst thou bring me to the party?

Yea, yea, my lord;
I'll yield him thee asleep,

Where thou mayst knock
a nail into his head.

Pray you, tread softly,

That the blind mole may not
Hear a foot fall.

Let me remember thee
what thou hast promis'd,

Which is not yet perform'd me.

Let me remember thee
what thou hast promis'd,

Which is not yet perform'd me.

Let me remember thee
what thou hast promis'd,

Which is not yet perform'd me.

Let me remember thee
what thou hast promis'd,

Which is not yet perform'd me.

Let me remember thee
what thou hast promis'd,

Which is not yet perform'd me.

What is't thou canst demand?

My liberty.

Remember I have done thee
worthy service,

Told thee no lies,
made thee no mistakings,

Serv'd without or grudge or grumblings.

Dost thou forget
From what a torment I did free thee?

Thou dost; and think'st it much
to tread the ooze of the salt deep,

To run upon the sharp wind of the north,

To do me business
in the veins o' th' earth

When it is bak'd with frost.

And think'st it much

I do not, sir.

Thou liest, malignant thing.

Hast thou forgot
The foul witch Sycorax,

Who with age and envy
Was grown into a hoop?

Hast thou forgot her?
Hast thou forgot her?

Where was she born?
Speak; tell me.

Sir, in Argier.

O, was she so? I must

Once in a month recount
what thou hast been,

Which thou forget'st.
This damn'd witch Sycorax,

For mischiefs manifold,
and sorceries terrible

To enter human hearing, from Argier

Thou know'st was banish'd;
for one thing she did

They would not take her life.
Is not this true?

Ay, sir.

This blue-ey'd hag was hither
brought with child,

And here was left by th'sailors.
Thou, my slave,

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,

Not honour'd with a human shape.

Yes, Caliban

That Caliban
Whom now I keep in service.

Thou best know'st
What torment I did find thee in;

Thy groans
Did make wolves howl,

It was a torment
To lay upon the damn'd,

Which Sycorax
Could not again undo.

It was mine art,
When I arriv'd and heard thee,

And let thee out.

I thank thee, master.

If thou more murmur'st,
I will rend an oak

And peg thee in his knotty entrails,

Till thou hast howl'd
away twelve winters.

Pardon, master;

I will be correspondent to command,
And do my spriting gently.

Do so;
and I will discharge thee.

O, ho, monster;
we know what belongs to a frippery.

Put off that gown, Trinculo;
by this hand.

Let't alone, let't alone,
And do the murder first. If he awake,

From toe to crown
he'll fill our skins with pinches;

Monster, come, put some lime upon
your fingers, and away with the rest.

I will have none on't.
We shall lose our time,

And all be turn'd to barnacles,
or to apes

With foreheads villainous low.

Hey, Mountain! There it goes, Silver!
Fury, Fury! Tyrant!

Let them be hunted soundly. At this hour
Lies at my mercy all mine enemies.

Shortly shall all my labours end, and
thou shalt have the air at freedom.

All things in common nature should
produce 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 it own kind, all foison,
all abundance,

To feed my innocent people.

No marrying 'mong his subjects?

None, man; all idle; whores and knaves.

I would with such perfection govern,
T' excel the golden age.

Prithee, no more;
thou dost talk nothing to me.

By your patience,
I needs must rest me.

Even here I will put off my hope,

He is drown'd
and the sea mocks our search.

Glad that he's so out of hope.

The next advantage
Will we take...

Let it be to-night;

For, now they are oppress'd
with travel,

They will not, nor cannot,
use such vigilance. Tonight!

Art thou afeard?

No, monster, not I.

Be not afeard.
The isle is full of noises,

Sounds, and sweet airs,
that give delight, and hurt not.

Sometimes a thousand
twangling instruments

Will hum about mine ears;
and sometimes voices,

That, if I then had wak'd
after long sleep,

Will make me sleep again;
and then, in dreaming,

The clouds methought
would open and show riches

Ready to drop upon me,
that, when I wak'd,

I cried to dream again.

This will prove a brave kingdom, where I
shall have my music for nothing.

When Prospero is destroy'd.

What harmony is this?

Marvellous sweet music!

Heavens! What were these?

A living drollery. Now I will believe
That there are unicorns;

That in Arabia
There is one tree,

The phoenix' throne, one phoenix
At this hour reigning-there.

If in Naples I should report this now,
would they believe me?

You are three men of sin, whom Destiny,

Hath caus'd to belch up you;
and on this island

Where man doth not inhabit-you

Being most unfit to live.
I have made you mad;

You fools! I and my fellows
Are ministers of Fate;

Your swords are temper'd may as well
Wound the loud winds,

But remember - for that's my business
to you-that you three

From Milan did supplant good Prospero;

For which foul deed
The pow'rs, delaying, not forgetting,

Have incens'd the seas and shores,

Yea, all the creatures,
Against your peace.

And do pronounce by me

Ling'ring perdition,
worse than any death

In this most desolate isle.

If I have too austerely punish'd you,
Your compensation makes amends;

All thy vexations
Were but my trials of thy love,

Hast strangely stood the test.

Ariel! Ariel!

What would my potent master? Here I am.

Say, my spirit,
How fares the King and's followers?

All prisoners, sir,
They cannot budge till your release.

Your charm so strongly works 'em

That if you now beheld
them your affections

Would become tender.

Dost thou think so, spirit?

Mine would, sir, were I human.

And mine shall.

Hast thou, which art but air,
a touch, a feeling

Of their afflictions,
and shall not myself,

One of their kind,
that relish all as sharply,

Be kindlier mov'd than thou art?

Though with their high wrongs
I am struck to th' quick,

Yet with my nobler
reason 'gainst my fury

Do I take part; the rarer action is

In virtue than in vengeance;
they being penitent,

The sole drift of my purpose doth extend
Not a frown further.

My charms I'll break,
their senses I'll restore,

And they shall be themselves.

There stand,
For you are spell-stopp'd.

Cure thy brains,
boil'd within thy skull!

Most cruelly,
Alonso, use me and my daughter;

Thy brother was
a furtherer in the act.

Thou art pinch'd for't now, Sebastian.

O good Gonzalo,

My true preserver, and a loyal sir
To him thou follow'st!

Flesh and blood,

You, brother mine,
that entertain'd ambition,

Expell'd remorse and nature,
who, with Sebastian-

Would here have kill'd your king,

I do forgive thee,

Unnatural though thou art.

Ye elves of hills, brooks,
standing lakes, and groves;

And ye that on the sands
with printless foot

Do chase the ebbing Neptune,
and do fly him

When he comes back;
you demi-puppets that

By moonshine do the green
sour ringlets make,

Whereof the ewe not bites;
and you whose pastime

Is to make midnight mushrooms,
that rejoice to hear the solemn curfew;

By whose aid-weak masters
though ye be-I have be-dimm'd

The noontide sun,
call'd forth the mutinous winds,

And 'twixt the green sea
and the azur'd vault

Set roaring war.
To the dread rattling thunder

Have I given fire, and rifted Jove's
stout oak with his own bolt;

The strong-bas'd promontory
Have I made shake,

And by the spurs pluck'd up
The pine and cedar.

Graves at my command
Have wak'd their sleepers,

Op'd, and let 'em forth,
By my so potent art.

Sweet lord, you play me false.

No, my dearest love,
I would not for the world.

Yes, for a score of kingdoms
you should wrangle

And I would call it fair play.

Now does my project gather to a head;

My charms crack not,
my spirits obey; and time

Goes upright with his carriage.
How's the day?

On the sixth hour;
at which time, my lord,

You said our work should cease.

I did say so,
When first I rais'd the tempest.

But yet thou shalt have free
To the King's ship,

There shalt thou find
the mariners asleep

Enforce them to this place;
And presently.

I drink the air before me,

And return
Or ere your pulse twice beat.

My tricksy spirit!

How beauteous mankind is!

O brave new world
That has such people in't!

Welcome, my freinds!

If this prove
A vision of the island,

One dear son
Shall I twice lose.

She is daughter
to this famous Duke of Milan.

I chose her when
I could not ask my father

For his advice, nor thought I had one.

O, how oddly will it sound that I
Must ask my child forgiveness!

Let us not burden our remembrances with
A heaviness that's gone.

O, touch me not;
I am not Stephano, but a cramp.

You'd be king o' the isle, sirrah?

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

Go, to my cell;
Take with you your companions.

He is as disproportioned in his manners
As in his shape.

His mother was a witch,
That could control the moon

What a thrice-double ass
Was I to take this drunkard for a god,

And worship this dull fool!

Go to; away!

In the morn
I'll bring you to your ship,

And so to Naples,
Where I have hope to see the nuptial

Of these our dear-belov'd solemnized,

And thence retire me to my Milan, where
Every third thought shall be my grave.

I long to hear the story of your life.

I'll deliver all;
And promise you calm seas.

My Ariel, that is thy charge.
Then to the elements be free!

Where the bee sucks, there suck I;
In a cowslip's bell I lie;

There I couch when owls do cry.

On the bat's back I do fly
After summer merrily.

Merrily, merrily shall I live now

Under the blossom
that hangs on the bough.

Our revels now are ended.
These our actors,

As I foretold you,
were all spirits, and

Are melted into air, into thin air;

And, like the baseless fabric
of this vision,

The cloud-capp'd towers,
the gorgeous palaces,

The solemn temples,
the great globe itself,

Yea, all which it inherit,
shall dissolve,

And, like
this insubstantial pageant faded,

Leave not a rack behind.
We are such stuff

As dreams are made on;

And our little life
Is rounded with a sleep.