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PROSPERO

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

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Shall make me chide thee, if not hate thee. What!

An advocate for an impostor? hush!

Thou think'st there is 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.

MIRANDA

My affections

Are, then, most humble; I have no ambition

To see a goodlier man.

PROSPERO

Come on; obey :

Thy nerves are in their infancy again,

And have no vigour in them.

FERDINAND

So they are:

My spirits, as in a dream, are all bound up.
My father's loss, the weakness which I feel,

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The wreck of all my friends, nor this man's threats,
To whom I am subdu'd, are but light to me,
Might I but through my prison once a day
Behold this maid: all corners else o' the earth
Let liberty make use of; space enough
Have I in such a prison.

PROSPERO

[Aside] It works. [To FERDINAND] Come on.-— Thou hast done well, fine Ariel! [To FERDINAND] Follow me. [To ARIEL] Hark what thou else shalt do me.

MIRANDA

My father's of a better nature, sir,

Than he appears by speech: this is unwonted
Which now came from him.

PROSPERO

Be of comfort;

Thou shalt be as free

As mountain winds: but then exactly do

All points of my command.

ARIEL

To the syllable.

PROSPERO

Come, follow.-Speak not for him.

[Exeunt.

ACT THE SECOND

SCENE I

Another part of the island

Enter ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, GONZALO,
ADRIAN, FRANCISCO, and others

GONZALO

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.

ALONSO

Prithee, peace.

SEBASTIAN

He receives comfort like cold porridge.

ANTONIO

The visitor will not give him o'er so.

SEBASTIAN

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

Sir . . .

GONZALO

SEBASTIAN

One: tell.

GONZALO

When every grief is entertain'd that 's offer'd,

Comes to the entertainer

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A dollar.

SEBASTIAN

GONZALO

Dolour comes to him, indeed: you have spoken truer than you purpos'd.

SEBASTIAN

You have taken it wiselier than I meant you should.

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Fie, what a spendthrift is he of his tongue!

I prithee, spare.

ALONSO

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