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And, sweet sprites, the burden bear.
Hark, hark!
Burden. Bow, wow.
The watch dogs bark:
Burden. Bow, wow.

Hark, hark! I hear

The strain of strutting chanticlere
Cry, cock-a-doodle-doo.

[Dispersedly.

[earth?

Fer. Where should this music be? i' th' air, or th'

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.

ARIEL sings.

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:

[Burden ding-dong.

Hark! now I hear them,-ding-dong, bell.

Fer. The ditty does remember my drown'd father.

This is no mortal business, nor no sound

That the earth owes1-I hear it now above me.

[Music above.

Pro. The fringed curtains of thine eye advance And say, what thou seest yond'.

Mira.

What is 't? a spirit? Lord, how it looks about! Believe me, sir,

It carries a brave form :-but 'tis a spirit.

Pro. 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 might'st call him A goodly person. He hath lost his fellows,

And strays about to find 'em.

1 Owns. Not in f. e.

Mira.

I might call him

It goes on, I see,

[Aside.

A thing divine, for nothing natural

I ever saw so noble.

Pro.

As my soul prompts it:-Spirit, fine spirit! I'll free thee Within two days for this.

Fer. Most sure, the goddess [Seeing her.1 On whom these airs attend!-Vouchsafe, my prayer May know if you remain upon this island, [Kneels.' And that you will some good instruction give, How I may bear me here: my prime request, Which I do last pronounce, is, Ō you wonder! If you be maid, or no?

Mira.

But, certainly a maid.

Fer.

No wonder, sir;

My language! heavens!-Rises.3

I am the best of them that speak this speech,
Were I but where 'tis spoken.

Pro.
How the best?
What wert thou, if the king of Naples heard thee?
Fer. A single thing, as I am now, that wonders
To hear thee speak of Naples. He does hear me,
And that he does I weep; myself am Naples;
Who with mine eyes, ne'er since at ebb, beheld
The king, my father, wreck'd.

Mira. Alack, for mercy! Fer. Yes, faith, and all his lords; the duke of Milan, And his brave son, being twain.

The duke of Milan,

Pro.
And his more braver daughter, could control thee,
If now 'twere fit to do't.-[Aside.] At the first sight
They have chang'd eyes:-delicate Ariel,
I'll set thee free for this!-[To him.] A word, good sir;
I fear, you have done yourself some wrong: a word.
Mira. Why speaks my father so ungently? This
Is the third man that e'er I saw; the first

That e'er I sigh'd for. Pity move my father
To be inclin'd my way!

O! if a virgin,

Fer.
And your affection not gone forth, I'll make you
The queen of Naples.

Pro.

Soft, sir: one word more.

1 Not in f. e. 2 Not in f. e. 3 Not in f. e.

[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 him.] One word more: I charge thee,

That thou attend me.

Thou dost here usurp

The name thou ow'st not; and hast put thyself
Upon this island as a spy, to win it

From me, the lord on't.

Fer.

No, as I am a man.

Mira. 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.

Pro. Follow me.

[To FERD.

Speak not you for him; he's a traitor.-Come.
I'll manacle thy neck and feet together;
Sea-water shalt thou drink, thy food shall be
The fresh-brook muscles, wither'd roots, and husks
Wherein the acorn cradled. Follow.

Fer.

I will resist such entertainment, till

Mine enemy has more power.

Mira.

No;

[He draws, and is charmed from moving.

Make not too rash a trial of him, for

He's gentle, and not fearful.

Pro.

O, dear father!

What! I say:

My foot my tutor?-Put thy sword up, traitor;
Who mak'st a show, but dar'st 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.

Mira.

Pro. Hence! hang not on my garments.

Mira.

I'll be his surety.

Pro.

Beseech you, father!

Sir, have pity:

Silence! one word more

Shall make me chide thee, if not hate thee. What! An advocate for an impostor? hush!

Thou think'st there are no more such shapes as he, Having seen but him and Caliban: foolish wench! To the most of men this is a Caliban,

And they to him are angels.

Mira.

My affections

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Are then most humble: I have no ambition

To see a goodlier man.

Pro.

Thy nerves are in their infancy again,

Come on; obey: [To FERD.

So they are:

And have no vigour in them.

Fer. My spirits, as in a dream, are all bound up. My father's loss, the weakness which I feel, The wreck of all my friends, nor this man's threats, To whom I am subdued, are but light to me, Might I but through my prison once a day Behold this maid: all corners else o' th' earth Let liberty make use of; space enough Have I in such a prison.

It works. Come on.

Pro.
Thou hast done well, fine Ariel!—Follow me.-

Hark, what thou else shalt do me.

Mira.

My father's of a better nature, sir,

[To FERD. and MIR.

[To ARIEL.

Be of comfort.

Than he appears by speech: this is unwonted,

Which now came from him.

Pro.

Thou shalt be as free

As mountain winds: but then, exactly do
All points of my command..

To the syllable.

[Exeunt.

Ari.
Pro. Come, follow.-Speak not for him.

ACT II.

SCENE I.-Another part of the Island.
Enter ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, GONZALO,
ADRIAN, FRANCISCO and Others.

Gon. 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 master' 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.

VOL. I.-3

1 masters in f. e.

Alon.

Pr'ythee, peace.

Seb. He receives comfort like cold porridge.
Ant. The visitor will not give him o'er so.

Seb. Look; he's winding up the watch of his wit: by and by it will strike.

Gon. Sir,

Seb. One-tell.

Gon. When every grief is entertain'd, that's offer'd, Comes to the entertainer

Seb. A dollar.

Gon. Dolour comes to him, indeed: you have spoken truer than you purposed.

Seb. You have taken it wiselier than I meant you should.

Gon. Therefore, my lord,

Ant. Fie, what a spendthrift is he of his tongue! Alon. I pr'ythee, spare.

Gon. Well, I have done. But yet

Seb. He will be talking.

Ant. Which, or1 he or Adrian, for a good wager,

first begins to crow?

Seb. The old cock.

Ant. The cockrel.

Seb. Done. The wager?

Ant. A laughter.

Seb. A match.

Adr. Though this island seem to be desert,-
Seb. Ha, ha, ha!

Ant. So, you're paid.

Adr. Uninhabitable, and almost inaccessible,-
Seb. Yet-

Adr. Yet

Ant. He could not miss it.

Adr. It must needs be of subtle, tender, and delicate temperance.

Ant. Temperance was a delicate wench.

Seb. Ay, and a subtle, as he most learnedly delivered. Adr. The air breathes upon us here most sweetly. Seb. As if it had lungs, and rotten ones.

Ant. Or as 'twere perfumed by a fen.

Gon. Here is every thing advantageous to life.
Ant. True; save means to live.

Seb. Of that there's none, or little.

1 of them: in f. e. Knight's edition reads, "of them."

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