e

Pro. Thou most lying slave, Whom stripes may move, not kindness; I have us'd

thee

(Filth as thou art) with human care, and lodg'd
In mine own cell, 'till thou didst seek to violate
The honour of my child.

Cal. Oh ho, oh ho, I wou'd it had been done!
Thou didst prevent me, I had peopled elfe
This Ifle with Calibans.

Mira. Abhorred flave;

Who any print of goodness will not take,
Being capable of all ill! I pity'd thee,
Took pains to make thee speak, taught thee each hour
One thing or other. When thou didst not, savage,
Know thine own meaning, but would'st gabble like
A thing most brutish, I endow'd thy purposes
With words that made them known. But thy vile race
(Tho' thou didst learn) had that in't, which good natures
Could not abide to be with; therefore wast thou
Deservedly confin'd into this rock.

Cal. You taught me language, and my profit on't
Is, I know how to curse: the red-plague rid you
For learning me your language.

Por. Hag-feed, hence!

Fetch us in fewel, and be quick (thou 'wert best)
To answer other business. Shrug'st thou, malice?
If thou neglect'ft, or doft unwillingly
thee with

What I command, I'll rack thee with old cramps,

Fill all thy bones with aches, make thee roar,

That beafts shall tremble at thy din.

Cal. No, pray thee.

I must obey, his art is of such pow'r
It would controul my dam's god Setebos,

And make a vassal of him.

Pro. So flave, hence,

[Exit Caliban,

SCENE

SCENE V.

Enter Ferdinand, and Ariel invisible, playing and finging
ARIEL'S SONG.

Come unto these yellow fands,
And then take hands:

Curt'fied when you have and kist

The wild waves whift;
Foot it featly here and there,

And sweet sprites the burthen bear.

[Burthen dispersedly.

Hark, hark, bough-wawgh: the watch-dogs bark,

Bough-wawgh.

Ari. Hark, hark, I hear

The strain of strutting chanticlere,
Cry Cock-a-doodle-do.

Fer. Where should this musick be? in air, or earth?
It founds no more: and fure it waits upon
Some God o'th' Island. Sitting on a bank,
Weeping e against the King my father's wreck,
This mufick crept by me upon the waters
Allaying both their fury and my paffion,
With its fweet air; thence I have follow'd it,
Or it hath drawn me rather but 'tis gone,
No, it begins again.

Full fathom five thy father lyes,
Of his bones are coral made :
Those are pearls that were his eyes,
Nothing of him that doth fade,
But doth suffer a sea-change,
Into something rich and strange.
Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell.

Hark, now I hear them, ding-dong bell.

[Burthen: ding-dong.

Fer

Fer. The ditty does remember my drown'd father, This is no mortal business, nor no found That the earth owns: I hear it now above me.

SCENE VI.

Pro. The fringed curtains of thine eye advance,

And say what thou seest yond.
Mira. What is't, a spirit?

Lord, how it looks about! believe me, Sir,
It carries a brave form. But 'tis a spirit.

Pro. No wench, it eats, and fleeps, and hath such senses As we have, such. This gallant which thou seest Was in the wreck: and but he's something stain'd With grief (that's beauty's canker) thou might'st call

him

A goodly person. He hath lost his fellows,

And ftrays about to find 'em.

Mira. I might call him

A thing divine, for nothing natural
I ever faw so noble.

Pro. It goes on, 1 fee,

[Afide.

As my foul promptsit. Spirit, fine spirit, I'll free thee

Within two days for this,

Fer. Most sure the Goddess

On whom these ayres attend! vouchsafe my pray'r

May know if you remain upon this Island,
And that you will fome good instruction give
How I may bear me here: my prime request
Which I do last pronounce) is, O you wonder!

If you be made or no?

Mira. No wonder, Sir,

But certainly a maid.

Fer. My language! heav'ns!

I am the best of them that speak this speech,
Were I but where 'tis spoken.

Pro. How? the best?

What wert thou if the King of Naples heard thee?

Fer. A fingle thing, as I am now, that wonders To hear thee speak of Naples. He does hear me;

And

And that he does, I weep: my felf am Naples, Who, with mine eyes (ne'er since at ebb) beheld The King my father wrackt.

Mira. Alack, for mercy!

Fer. Yes faith, and all his lords: the Duke of Milan

And his brave son, being twain.
Pro. The Duke of Milan

And his more braver daughter could controll thee,
If now 'twere fit to do't:
At the first sight

They have chang'd eyes: (delicate Ariel,
I'll fet thee free for this.) A word, good Sir,
I fear you've done your self some wrong: a word,
Mira. Why speaks my father so ungently? this
Is the third man thar e'er I faw; the first
That e'er I figh'd for. Pity move my father
To be inclin'd my way!

Fer. O, if a Virgin,

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

Pro. Soft Sir, one word more.
They're both in either's pow'r: but this swift business
I muft uneafie make, lest too light winning
Make the prize light. Sir, one word more; (I charge
[To Ariel.

thee

That thou attend me) thou dost here ufurp
'The name thou ow'st net, and haft put thy felf
Upon this island, as a spy, to win it
From me, the lord on't.

Fer. No, as I'm a man.

Mira. There's nothing ill can dwell in such a temple,

If the ill spirit have so fair an house,

Good things will strive to dwell with't.

Pro. Follow me.

Come,

Speak you not for him: he's a traitor.
I'll manacle thy neck and feet together;
Sea-water shalt thou drink, thy food fhall be
The fresh-brook muscles, wither'd roots, and husks

Wherein the acorn cradled. Follow.

d

he

Mine enemy has more power.

[He draws, and is charmed from moving.

Mira. O dear father,

Make not too rash a tryal of him; for

He's gentle, and not fearful.

Pro. What, I say,

My foot my tutor? put thy fword up, traitor,

Who mak'it a shew, but dar'st not strike; thy con

science

Is all poffeft with guilt: come from thy ward,

For I can here disarm thee with this stick,

And make thy weapon drop.

Mira. Befeech you, father.

Pro. Hence: hang not on my garment.

Mira. Sir, have pity;

I'll be his surety.

Pro. Silence: one word more

Shall make me chide thee, if not hate thee. What
An advocate for an impoftor? hush!

Thou think'st there are no more such snapes as he, els (Having feen but him and Caliban) foolish wench, To th' most of men this is a Caliban,

ge And they to him are angels.

Mira. My affections

Are then most humble: I have no ambition

To fee a goodlier man.

Pro. Come on, obey:

Thy nerves are in their infancy again,

And have no vigour in them.

Fer. So they are:

My spirits, as in a dream, are all bound up.

My father's lofs, the weakness which I feel,

The wrack of all my friends, and this man's threats,
To whom I am fubdu'd, are but light to me,
Might I but through my prifon once a day
Behold this maid: all corners else o'th' earth
Let liberty make use of; space enough

Have I, in fuch a prifon.

Pro. It works: come on.

Thou haft done well, fine Ariel: follow me,

Hark