If now 't were fit to do't.
They have changed eyes.
I'll set thee free for this.

At the first sight
Delicate Ariel,

[To Fer.] A word, good sir;

I fear you have done yourself some wrong: a word.
Mir. 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 inclined my way!

Fer.

O, if a virgin,

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

Pros.

Soft, sir! one word more.

440

[Aside] They are both in either's powers; but this swift

business

I must uneasy make, lest too light winning

450

Make the prize light. [To Fer.] One word more: I charge

thee.

That thou attend me: thou dost here usurp

The name thou owest 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.

Mir. 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.

Pros.

Follow me.

460

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 mussels, wither'd roots and husks
Wherein the acorn cradled. Follow.

What? I say,

My foot my tutor! Put thy sword up, traitor;

Who makest a show but darest 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.

470

Mir

Beseech you, father.

Pros. Hence! hang not on my garments.

Mir.

I'll be his surety.

Pros.

Silence! one word more

Sir, have pity;

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.

Mir.

My affections

Are then most humble; I have no ambition

To see a goodlier man.

Pros.
Thy nerves are in their infancy again

Come on; obey:

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' the earth
Let liberty make use of; space enough
Have I in such a prison.

Pros.
[Aside] It works. [To Fer.] Come on.
Thou hast done well, fine Ariel! [To Fer.] Follow me.
[To Ari.] Hark what thou else shalt do me.

Mir.

My father's of a better nature, sir,

480

490

Be of comfort;

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

Pros.

Thou shalt be as free

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

To the syllable.

Ari.
Pros. Come, follow. Speak not for him.

[Exeunt. 500

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 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.

Alon.

Prithee, peace.

Seb. He receives comfort like cold porridge.

Ant. The visitor will not give him o'er so.

ΙΟ

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 prithee, spare.

Gon. Well, I have done: but yet,—

Seb. He will be talking.

20

Ant. Which, of he or Adrian, for a good wager, first begins

to crow?

Seb. The old cock.

Ant. The cockerel.

Seb. Done. The wager?

Ant. A laughter.

Seb. A match!

Adr. Though this island seem to be desert,—
Seb. Ha, ha, ha! So, you're paid.

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

(M 844)

D

330

Adr. Yet,

Ant. He could not miss 't.

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

perance.

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 't were perfumed by a fen.

Gon. Here is everything advantageous to life.

Ant. True; save means to live.

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

41

Gon. How lush and lusty the grass looks! how green! 50

Ant. The ground indeed is tawny.

Seb. With an eye of green in't.

Ant. He misses not much.

Seb. No; he doth but mistake the truth totally.

Gon. But the rarity of it is,—which is indeed almost beyond credit,

Seb. As many vouched rarities are.

Gon. That our garments, being, as they were, drenched in the sea, hold notwithstanding their freshness and glosses, being rather new-dyed than stained with salt water.

60

Ant. If but one of his pockets could speak, would it not say he lies?

Seb. Ay, or very falsely pocket up his report.

Gon. Methinks our garments are now as fresh as when we put them on first in Afric, at the marriage of the king's fair daughter Claribel to the King of Tunis.

Seb. 'T was a sweet marriage, and we prosper well in our

return.

Adr. Tunis was never graced before with such a paragon to their queen.

70

famous queen of Carthage

Gon. Not since widow Dido's time.

Ant. Widow! a pox o' that! How came that widow in? widow Dido!

Seb. What if he had said 'widower Æneas' too? Good

Lord, how you take it!

Adr. 'Widow Dido' said you? you make me study of that; she was of Carthage, not of Tunis.

Gon. This Tunis, sir, was Carthage.

Adr. Carthage?

Gon. I assure you, Carthage.

80

Seb. His word is more than the miraculous harp; he hath raised the wall and houses too.

Ant. What impossible matter will he make easy next? Seb. I think he will carry this island home in his pocket and give it his son for an apple.

Ant. And, sowing the kernels of it in the sea, bring forth more islands.

Alon. Ay.

Ant. Why, in good time.

Gon. Sir, we were talking that our garments seem now as fresh as when we were at Tunis at the marriage of your daughter, who is now queen.

Ant. And the rarest that e'er came there.

Seb. Bate, I beseech you, widow Dido.

Ant. O, widow Dido! ay, widow Dido.

92

Gon. Is not, sir, my doublet as fresh as the first day I wore it? I mean, in a sort.

Ant. That sort was well fished for.

Gon. When I wore it at your daughter's marriage?

Alon. You cram these words into mine ears against

The stomach of my sense. Would I had never
Married my daughter there! for, coming thence,
My son is lost and, in my rate, she too,
Who is so far from Italy removed

I ne'er again shall see her. O thou mine heir
Of Naples and of Milan, what strange fish
Hath made his meal on thee?

Fran.

Sir, he may live:

I saw him beat the surges under him,

And ride upon their backs; he trod the water,

100

Whose enmity he flung aside, and breasted

The surge most swoln that met him; his bold head

'Bove the contentious waves he kept, and oar'd
Himself with his good arms in lusty stroke
To the shore, that o'er his wave-worn basis bow'd,
As stooping to relieve him: I not doubt

He came alive to land.

Seb. Sir, you may thank yourself for this great loss, That would not bless our Europe with your daughter, But rather lose her to an African;

Where she at least is banish'd from your eye,

Who hath cause to wet the grief on't.

Alon.

120

Prithee, peace.

Seb. You were kneel'd to and importuned otherwise By all of us, and the fair soul herself

Weigh'd between loathness and obedience, at

Reluctance