If now 't were fit to do't. [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. [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; Sea-water shalt thou drink; thy food shall be Wherein the acorn cradled. Follow. What? I say, Make not too rash a trial of him, for He's gentle and not fearful. Pros. My foot my tutor! Put thy sword up, traitor; 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. 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 is no more such shapes as he, And they to him are angels. Mir. My affections Are then most humble; I have no ambition To see a goodlier man. Pros. Come on; obey: Thy nerves are in their infancy again And have no vigour in them. 480 Fer. So they are; 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 490 Let liberty make use of; space enough Have I in such a prison. [Aside] It works. [To Fer.] Come on. Pros. Thou hast done well, fine Ariel! [To Fer.] Follow me. My father's of a better nature, sir, 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. Ari. To the syllable. Pros. Come, follow. Speak not for him. [Exeunt. 500 character of trospero's enemies ACT II. SCENE I. Another part of the island. Enter ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, Antonio, GONZALO, ADRIAN, Gon. Beseech you, sir, be merry; you have cause, Can speak like us: then wisely, good sir, weigh Alon. Prithee, peace. Seb. He receives comfort like cold porridge. 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? Adr. Though this island seem to be desert, Seb. Ha, ha, ha! So, you're paid. Adr. Uninhabitable and almost inaccessible,- Seb. Yet, (M344) D 30 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. 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. Gon. Not since widow Dido's time. 70 mos queen of Cailliage thags 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? 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, Who is so far from Italy removed I ne'er again shall see her. O thou mine heir 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, To the shore, that o'er his wave-worn basis bow'd, He came alive to land. Alon. No, no, he's gone. 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. 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 |