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To fwim; to dive into the fire; to ride
On the curl'd clouds: to thy ftrong bidding, task
Ariel and all his qualities.

Pro. Haft thou, fpirit,

Perform'd to point the tempeft that I bad thee?
Ari. To every Article.

I boarded the King's fhip: now on the beak,
Now in the wafte, the deck, in every cabin,
I flam'd amazement. Sometimes I'd divide,
And burn in many places; on the top-maft,
The yards and bolt-fprit would I flame diftinctly,
Then meet and join. Jove's lightning, the precurfers
Of dreadful thunder-claps, more momentary

And fight out-running were not; the fire and cracks
Of fulphurous roaring the moft mighty Neptune
Seem'd to befiege, and make his bold waves tremble,
Yea, his dread trident shake.

Pro. My brave fpirit!

Who was fo firm, fo conftant, that this coyl
Would not infect his reafon?

Ari. Not a foul

But felt a feaver of the mind, and plaid
Some tricks of defperation: all but mariners
Plung'd in the foaming brine, and quit the veffel,
Then all a-fire with me: the King's fon Ferdinand
With hair up-ftaring (then like reeds, not hair)
Was the firft man that leap'd; cry'd hell is empty,
And all the devils are here.

Pro. Why that's my Spirit!

But was not this nigh fhore?
Ari. Close by, my mafter.
Pro. But are they, Ariel, fafe?

Ari. Not a hair perished:

On their fuftaining garments not a blemish,
But fresher than before. And as thou badft me,
In troops I have difpers'd them 'bout the Ifle:
The King's fon have I landed by himself,
Whom I left cooling of the Air with fighs,
In an odd angle of the Ifle, and fitting,
His arms in this fad knot,


Pro. Of the King's fhip,

The mariners, fay how thou haft dispos'd,
And all the reft o'th' fleet?

Ari. Safely in harbour

Is the King's fhip; in the deep nook, where once
Thou call'dft me up at midnight, to fetch dew
From the ftill-vext Bermoothes, there he's hid:
The mariners all under hatches ftow'd,

Who with a charm join'd to their fuffered labour,
I've left afleep; and for the reft o'th' fleet
(Which I difpers'd) they all have met again,
And are on the Mediterranean flote,

Bound fadly home for Naples,

Suppofing that they faw the King's fhip wrackt,
And his great perfon perish.

Pro. Ariel, thy charge

Exactly is perform'd; but there's more work:
What is the time o'th' day?

Ari. Paft the mid feason.

Pro. At least two glaffes: the time' twixt fix and now Muft by us both be fpent most preciously.

Ari. Is there more toil? fince thou doft give me pains,

Let me remember thee what thou haft promis'd,
Which is not yet perform'd me.

Pro. How now ? moody?

What is't thou canft demand?

Ari. My liberty.

Pro. Before the time be out? no more.

Ari. I pr'ythee.

Remember I have done thee worthy fervice,

Told thee no lies, made no mistakings, ferv'd Without or grudge or grumblings; thou didst promise To bate me a full year.

Pro. Doft thou forget

From what a torment I did free thee?


Ari. No.

Pro. Thou doft; and think'st it much to tread the


Of the falt deep;

To run upon the fharp Wind of the North,
To do me business in the veins o'th' earth,
When it is bak'd with froft.

Ari. I do not, Sir.

Pro. Thou ly'ft, malignant thing: haft thou forgot The foul witch Sycorax, who with age and envy Was grown into a hoop? haft thou forgot her? Ari. No, Sir.

Pro. Thou haft: where was she born? speak; tell


Ari. Sir, in Argier.

Pro. Oh, was fhe fo! I muft

Once in a month recount what thou hast been,
Which thou forget'ft. This damn'd witch Sycorax,
For mifchiefs manifold and forceries terrible
To enter human hearing, from Argier

Thou know'ft was banish'd: for one thing fhe did
They would not take her life. Is this not true?
Ari. Ay, Sir.

Pro. This blue-ey'd hag was hither brought with child,

And here was left by th' failors; thou my flave,
As thou report'ft thy felf, waft then her fervant.
And, for thou waft a fpirit too delicate

To act her earthly and abhorr'd commands,
Refufing her grand hefts, fhe did confine thee,
By help of her more potent ministers;
And in her moft unmitigable rage,
Into a cloven pine; within which rift
Imprifon'd, thou didst painfully remain

A dozen years, within which space the dy'd,

And left thee there: where thou didst vent thy groans
As faft as mill-wheels ftrike. Then was this Island
(Save for the fon that fhe did litter here,

A freckl'd whelp, hag-born) not honour'd with
A human shape.

Ari. Yes, Caliban her fon.

Pro. Dull thing, I fay fo: he, that Caliban Whom now I keep in fervice. Thou best know'st What torment I did find thee in; thy groans

Did make wolves howl, and penetrate the breafts
Of ever-angry bears; it was a torment
To lay upon the damn'd, which Sycorax
Could not again undo: it was mine art,

When I arriv'd and heard thee, that made gape
The pine, and let thee out.

Ari. I thank thee, mafter.

Pro. If thou more murmur'ft, I will rend an oak.

And peg thee in his knotty entrails, 'till

Thou'ft howl'd away

twelve winters.

Ari. Pardon, master.

I will be correfpondent to command,
And do my fp'riting gently.

Pro. Do fo: and after two days

I will discharge thee.

Ari. That's my noble mafter:

What fhall I do? fay what? what fhall I do?

Pro. Go make thy felf like to a nymph o'th' fea.
Be fubject to no fight but mine: invifible

To every eye-ball elfe. Go take this shape,
And hither come in it go hence with diligence.
[Exit Ariel.
Awake, dear heart awake, thou haft flept well,

Mira. The ftrangeness of your ftory put
Heavinefs in me.

Pro. Shake it off: come on,

We'll vifit Caliban my flave, who never
Yields us kind answer.

Mira. 'Tis a villain, Sir,

I do not love to look on

Bro. But as 'tis

We cannot miss him: he does make our fire,

Fetch in our wood, and ferves in offices

That profit us.

What hoa! flave! Caliban! ¿

Thou earth thou! fpeak.

Cal. (within.) There's wood enough within.

Pro. Come forth, I fay, there's other bufinefs for thee.



Enter Ariel like a Water-Nymph.

Fine apparition! my quaint Ariel,
Hark in thine ear.

Ari. My lord, it fhall be done.

[Exit. Pro Thou poifonous flave, got by the devil limfelf Upon thy wicked dam; come forth, thou tortoife.


Enter Caliban.

Cal. As wicked dew as e'er my mother brufh'd
With raven's feather from unwholsome fen,
Drop on you both: a fouth-west blow on ye,
And blifter you all o'er!

Pro. For this, be fure, to-night thou shalt have cramps,
Side-stitches that fhall pen thy breath up; urchins
Shall, for that vaft of night that they may work,
All exercife on thee: thou fhalt be pinch'd

As thick as honey-combs, each pinch more stinging Than bees that made 'em.

Cal. I muft eat my dinner.

This Ifland's mine by Sycorax my mother,

Which thou tak'ft from me.

When thou cameft firft

Thou ftroak'dft me and mad'st much of me; would f give me

Water with berries in't; and teach me how

To name the bigger light, and how the lefs,
That burn by day and night: and then I lov'd thee,
And fhew'd thee all the qualities o' th' Ifle,

The fresh fprings, brine-pits; barren place and fertile,
Curs'd be I that I did fo! all the charms

Of Sycorax, toads, beetles, bats, light on you!
For I am all the fubjects that you have,

Who firft was mine own King: and here you fty me
In this hard rock, whiles you do keep from me
The rest of th' Island.


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