And will not be uplifted. But, remember 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, Of my instruction hast thou nothing bated In what thou hadst to say: so, with good life," Their several kinds have done: my high charms work, In their distractions: they now are in my power; Young Ferdinand (whom they suppose is drown'd), [Exit PROSPERO from above. Gon. I' the name of something holy, sir, why stand you In this strange stare? Alon. 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. Seb. [Exit. But one fiend at a time, I'll fight their legions o'er. I'll be thy second. [Exeunt SEB. and ANT. Ant. Gon. All three of them are desperate; their great guilt, Adr. Follow, I pray you. [Exeunt. SCENE I. Before PROSPERO's Cell. Enter PROSPERO, FERDINAND, and MIRANDA. Pro. If I have too austerely punish'd you, Hast strangely stood the test: here, afore Heaven, Fer. I do believe it Pro. Then, as my gift,2 and thine own acquisition Worthily purchas'd, take my daughter: but If thou dost break her virgin 'faith' before Fer. As I hope With such love as 'tis now; the murkiest den, The edge of that day's celebration, When I shall think, or Phœbus' steeds are founder'd, Or Night kept chain'd below. Pro. Fairly spoke: Sit then, and talk with her, she is thine own.— 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: i 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 moe: Do you love me, master? no? Pro. Dearly, my delicate Ariel. Do not approach Till thou dost hear me call. Well I conceive. Ari. 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. Now come, my Ariel; bring a corollary, Rather than want a spirit; appear, and pertly!— A Masque. Enter IRIS. Iris. Ceres, most bounteous lady, thy rich leas Of wheat, rye, barley, vetches, oats, and pease; Thy turfy mountains, where live nibbling sheep, And flat meads thatch'd with stover,5 them to keep; Thy banks with peonied and lilied brims, Which spongy April at thy hest betrims, [Exit. [Soft music. To make cold nymphs chaste crowns; and thy broom groves, Being lass-lorn; thy pole-clipt vineyard; Where thou thyself dost air; the queen o' the sky, Bids thee leave these; and with her sovereign grace, |