Gon.

If in Naples I should report this now, would they believe me? If I should say, I saw such islanders, (For, certes, these are people of the island) Who, though they are of monstrous shape, yet, note, Their manners are more gentle, kind, than of Our human generation you shall find Many, nay, almost any. Pro.

[Aside.) Honest lord, Thou hast said well; for some of you there present, Are worse than devils. Alon.

I cannot too much muse, [ing Such shapes, such gestures, and such sounds, express(Although they want the use of tongue) a kind Of excellent dumb discourse. Pro.

[Aside.] Praise in departing. Fran. They vanish'd strangely. Seb.

No matter, since They have left their viands behind, for we have sto

machs.-
Will’t please you taste of what is here?
Alon.

Not I.
Gon. Faith, sir, you need not fear. When we were

boys, Who would believe that there were mountaineers Dew-lapp'd like bulls, whose throats had hanging at

them Wallets of flesh? or that there were such men, Whose heads stood in their breasts? which now, we find, Each putter-out of five for one will bring us Good warrant of. Alon.

I will stand to, and feed, Although my last: no matter, since I feel The best is past.—Brother, my lord the duke, Stand to, and do as we. Thunder and lightning. Enter ARIEL, like a harpy, claps his wings upon the table, and, with a quaint device, the banquet vanishes.

Ari. You are three men of sin, whom destiny (That hath to instrument this lower world, And what is in't) the never-surfeited sea

1 gesture : in f. e. 2 sound: in f. e. 3 A custom of old travellers to put out a sum of money at interest, at the outset of a journey, for which they received at the rate of five to one, if they returned.

Hath caused to belch up, and on this island
Where man doth not inhabit; you 'mongst men
Being most unfit to live. I have made you mad ::
And even with such like valour men hang and drown
Their proper selves. You fools! I and my fellows
Are ministers of fate: the elements,

[ALON., SEB., &c., draw their Swords.2
Of whom your swords are temper'd, may as well
Wound the loud winds, or with bemock'd-at stabs
Kill the still-closing waters, as diminish
One dowle that's in my plume: my fellow-ministers
Are like invulnerable. If you could hurt,
Your swords are now too massy for your strengths,
And will not be uplifted. But, remember,
(For that's my business to you) that you three
From Milan did supplant good Prospero;
Expos'd unto the sea (which hath requit it)
Him, and his innocent child: for which foul deed
The powers, delaying not forgetting, have
Incens’d the seas and shores, yea, all the creatures,
Against your peace. Thee, of thy son, Alonso,
They have bereft; and do pronounce by me,
Lingering perdition (worse than any death
Can be at once) shall step by step attend
You, and your ways; whose wraths to guard you from
(Which here, in this most desolate isle, else falls
Upon your heads) is nothing, but heart's sorrow,
And a clear life ensuing.
He vanishes in thunder: then, to soft music, enter the

Shapes again, and dance with mocks and mowes, and carry out the table. Pro. (Above.*] Bravely the figure of this harpy hast

thou Perform’d, my Ariel; a grace it had, devouring. Of my instruction hast thou nothing 'bated, In what thou hadst to say : so, with good life And observation strange, my meaner ministers Their several kinds have done. My high charms work, And these, mine enemies, are all knit up In their distractions : they now are in my power; And in these fits I leave them, while I visit

, f. e. insert here this direction : Seeing Alon., SEB., $c., drau their Swords. 2 Omitted in f. e. 3 A feather or particle of down. 4 Aside : in f. e.

Young Ferdinand, (whom they suppose is drown'd) And his and my lov'd darling. [Exit PROSPERO.

Gon. I' the name of something holy, sir, why stand you In this strange stare ? Alon.

O, it is monstrous ! monstrous ! Methought, the billows spoke, and told me of it; The winds did sing it to me; and the thunder, That deep and dreadful organ-pipe, pronounc'd The name of Prosper : it did base my trespass. Therefore my son i' the ooze is bedded ; and I'll seek him deeper than e'er plummet sounded, And with him there lie mudded.

[Exit. Seb.

But one fiend at a time, I'll fight their legions o’er.

Ant. I'll be thy second. [Exeunt SEB. and Ant. Gon. All three of them are desperate : their great guilt, Like poison given to work a great time after, Now 'gins to bite the spirits.—I do beseech you, That are of suppler joints, follow them swiftly, And hinder them from what this ecstasy May now provoke them to. Adr. Follow, I pray you.

[Esceunt.

ACT IV.
SCENE I.-—Before PROSPERO's Cell.
Enter PROSPERO, FERDINAND, and MIRANDA.
Pro. If I have too austerely punish'd you,
Your compensation makes amends; for I
Have given you here a thread' of mine own life,
Or that for which I live: whom once again
I tender to thy hand. All thy vexations
Were but my trials of thy love, and thou
Hast strangely stood the test : here, afore Heaven,
I ratify this my rich gift! O Ferdinand !
Do not smile at me that I boast her off,
For thou shalt find she will outstrip all praise,
And make it halt behind her.
Fer.

I do believe it,
Against an oracle.
Pro. Then, as my gift, and thine own acquisition

I third : in f. e.
Vol. I.—5

Worthily purchas'd, take my daughter: but
If thou dost break her virgin knot before
All sanctimonious ceremonies may,
With full and holy rite, be minister'd,
No sweet aspersion shall the heavens let fall
To make this contract grow; but barren hate,
Sour-eyed disdain, and discord, shall bestrew
The union of your bed with weeds so loathly,
That you shall hate it both : therefore, take heed,
As Hymen's lamps shall light you.
Fer.

As I hope
For quiet days, fair issue, and long life,
With such love as 't is now, the murkiest den,
The most opportune place, the strong'st suggestion
Our worser genius can, shall never melt
Mine honour into lust, to take away
The edge of that day's celebration,
When I shall think, or Phæbus' steeds are founder'd,
Or night kept chain'd below.
Pro.

Fairly spoke.
Sit then and talk with her; she is thine own.-
What, Ariel! my industrious servant Ariel !

Enter ARIEL.
Ari. What would my potent master ? here I am.

Pro. Thou and thy meaner fellows your last service
Did worthily perform, and I must use you
In such another trick. Go, bring the rabble,
O’er whom I give thee power, here, to this place:
Incite them to quick motion ; for I must
Bestow upon the eyes of this young couple
Some vanity of mine art: it is my promise,
And they expect it from me.
Ari.

Presently?
Pro. Ay, with a twink.

Ari. Before you can say, "Come," and "go,"
And breathe twice; and cry, “so so;"
Each one, tripping on his toe,
Will be here with mop and mow.
Do you love me, master ? no?

Pro. Dearly, my delicate Ariel. Do not approach,
Till thou dost hear me call.
Ari.

Well I conceive. [Exit. Pro. Look, thou be true. Do not give dalliance Too much the rein: the strongest oaths are straw

To the fire i’ the blood. Be more abstemious,
Or else, good night, your vow.
Fer.

I warrant you, sir;
The white-cold virgin snow upon my heart
Abates the ardour of my liver.
Pro.

Well.
Now come, my Ariel ! bring a corollary,'
Rather than want a spirit: appear, and pertly.”—
No tongue, all eyes; be silent.

(Soft music.
A Masque. Enter Iris.
Iris. Ceres, most bounteous lady, thy rich leas
Of wheat, rye, barley, vetches, oats, and peas;
Thy turfy mountains, where live nibbling sheep,
And flat meads thatch'd with stover, them to keep;
Thy banks with pioned* and tilleds brims,
Which spongy April at thy hest betrims,
To make cold nymphs chaste crowns; and thy brown

groves, Whose shadow the dismissed bachelor loves, Being lass-lorn; thy pole-clipt vineyard; And thy sea-marge, steril, 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,

Juno descends slowly." To come and sport. Her peacocks fly amain: Approach, rich Ceres, her to entertain.

Enter CERES.
Cer. 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-graz'd green?

Iris. A contract of true love to celebrate,
And some donation freely to estate
On the bless'd lovers.
Cer.

Tell me, heavenly bow, 1 Surplusage. % pertly-quickly, skilfully. 3 Coarse grass, used sometimes for covering farm-buildings. 4 pion to dig 5 twilled : in f. e. 6 broom: in f. e. 7 This direction is omitted in most modern editions ; "slowly” is added in the MS., 1632.