Well demanded, wench :

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
With colours fairer painted their foul ends.
In few, they hurried us aboard a bark,

Bore us some leagues to sea, where they prepar'd
A rotten carcass of a boat,' not rigg'd,
Nor tackle, sail, nor mast; the very rats
Instinctively had 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.

Mira.

Was I then to you!

Pro.

Alack! what trouble

O! a cherubim

Thou didst smile,

Thou wast, that did preserve me.

Infused with a fortitude from heaven,

When I have deck'd the sea with drops full salt,
Under my burden groan'd; which rais'd in me
An undergoing stomach, to bear up

Against what should ensue.

Mira.

Pro. By Providence divine.

How came we ashore?

Some food we had, and some fresh water, that
A noble Neapolitan, Gonzalo,

Out of his charity, (who being then appointed
Master of this design) did give us; with

Rich garments, linens, stuffs, and necessaries,

Which since have steaded much so, of his gentleness, Knowing I lov'd my books, he furnish'd me,

From my own library, with volumes that

I prize above my dukedom.

Mira.

But ever see that man!

Pro.

Would I might

Now I arise :- · [Puts on his robe again.3

Sit still, and hear the last of our sea-sorrow.

Here in this island we arriv'd; and here

Have I, thy schoolmaster, made thee more profit

1 butt in f. e. 2 have in f. e. 3 This direction is not in f. e.

Than other princes1 can, that have more time
For vainer hours, and tutors not so careful.
Mira. Heavens thank you for 't! And

you, sir,

now,

For still 'tis beating in my mind, your reason
For raising this sea-storm?

Pro.

Know thus far forth.-
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

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.
Come away, servant, come! I am ready now.
Approach, my Ariel: come!

Enter ARIEL.

Ari. 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,

Pro.
Perform'd to point the tempest that I bade thee?
Ari. To every article.

I boarded the king's ship; now on the beak,
Now in the waist, the deck, in every cabin,
I flam'd amazement: sometimes, I'd divide,
And burn in many places; on the topmast,
The yards and bowsprit, would I flame distinctly,
Then meet, and join. Jove's lightnings, the precursors
O' the dreadful thunder-claps, more momentary
And sight-outrunning were not: the fire, and cracks
Of sulphurous roaring the most mighty Neptune
Seem to besiege, and make his bold waves tremble,
Yea, his dread trident shake.

Pro.
My brave spirit!
Who was so firm, so constant, that this coil

Would not infect his reason?

Ari.

Not a soul

1 princess in f. e.

But felt a fever of the mad, and play'd
Some tricks of desperation. All, but mariners,
Plung'd in the foaming brine, and quit the vessel,
Then all a-fire 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."

On their sustaining garments not a blemish,'
But fresher than before: and, as thou bad'st me,
In troops I have dispers'd them 'bout the isle.
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

Pro.
The mariners, say, how thou hast dispos'd,
And all the rest o' the fleet?

Ari.
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, there she's hid:
The mariners all under hatches stow'd;

Whom, with a charm joined to their suffer'd labour,
I have left asleep and for the rest o' the fleet
Which I dispers'd, they all have met again,
And all' upon the Mediterranean float,'
Bound sadly home for Naples,

Supposing that they saw the king's ship wreck'd,
And his great person perish.

Pro.

Exactly is perform'd; but there's more work.
What is the time o' the day?

Ariel, thy charge

Past the mid season.

Ari. Pro. At least two glasses. The time 'twixt six and now Must by us both be spent most preciously.

Ari. Is there more toil? Since thou dost give me pains, Let me remember thee what thou hast promis'd, Which is not yet perform'd me.

1 are in f. e. 2 flote: in f. e.

Pro.

How now! moody?

What is 't thou canst demand?

Ari.

My liberty.

Pro. Before the time be out? no more.
Ari.

I prithee

Remember, I have done thee worthy service;

Told thee no lies, made thee no mistakings, serv'd Without or grudge, or grumblings. Thou didst promise To bate me a full year.

Pro.

Dost thou forget

From what a torment I did free thee?

Ari.

No.

Pro. 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.

Ari.

Hast thou forgot

I do not, sir.
Pro. Thou liest, malignant thing!
The foul witch Sycorax, who, with age and envy,
Was grown into a hoop? hast thou forgot her?
Ari. No, sir.

Pro.

Thou hast. Where was she born?

speak; tell me.

Ari. Sir, in Argier.

Pro. 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? Ari. Ay, sir.

Pro. This blue-eyed hag was hither brought with child,

And here was left by the 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 a1 son that she did litter here,

A freckled whelp, hag-born) not honour'd with
A human shape.

Ari.

Yes; Caliban, her son.

Pro. Dull thing, I say so; he, that Caliban,
Whom now I keep in service. Thou best know'st
What torment I did find thee in: thy groans
Did make wolves howl, and penetrate the breasts
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.

Ari.

I thank thee, master. Pro. 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.

Ari.

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

Pro.

I will discharge thee.

Ari.

Pardon, master:

Do so, and after two days

That's my noble master!

What shall I do? say what? what shall I do?

Pro. Go, make thyself a like nymph2 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!

Mira. The strangeness of your story put [Waking.3 Heaviness in me.

. Pro.

Shake it off. Come on: We'll visit Caliban, my slave, who never Yields us kind answer.

Mira.

'I do not love to look on.

Pro.

'Tis a villain, sir,

But, as 'tis,

1 the in f. e. 2 like a in f. e. 3 Not in f. e.