Should presently extirpate me and mine The gates of Milan; and, i' the dead of darkness, Me and thy crying self. Mir. Alack, for pity! I, not remembering how I cried on't then, That wrings mine eyes to't. Pros. Hear a little further, And then I'll bring thee to the present business Which now's upon 's; without the which, this story Were most impertinent. Mir. That hour destroy us? Pros. Wherefore did they not Well demanded, wench: My tale provokes that question. Dear, they durst not, So dear the love my people bore me, A mark so bloody on the business; but nor set With colours fairer painted their foul ends. In few, they hurried us aboard a bark, Bore us some leagues to sea; where they prepar'd Nor tackle, sail, nor mast; the very rats Mir. Was I then to you! Pros. Alack, what trouble O, a cherubin Thou wast that did preserve me! Thou didst smile, Infused with a fortitude from heaven, When I have deck'd the sea with drops full salt, Under my burden groan'd; which rais'd in me Against what should ensue. Mir. How came we ashore? Pros. By Providence divine. Some food we had, and some fresh water, that Out of his charity, who being then appointed From mine own library, with volumes that I prize above my dukedom. Mir. But ever see that man! Pros. Would I might Now I arise: Sit still, and hear the last of our sea-sorrow. Have I, thy schoolmaster, made thee more profit Mir. Heavens thank you for't! And now, I pray you, sir, For still 'tis beating in my mind, For raising this sea-storm? Pros. your reason Know thus far forth. By accident most strange, bountiful Fortune Now hath mine enemies dear lady my Brought to this shore; and by my prescience I find my zenith doth depend upon A most auspicious star, whose influence If now I court not, but omit, my fortunes Will ever after droop. Here cease more questions: [Miranda sleeps. Come away, servant, come! I'm ready now: Enter ARIEL. Ari. All hail, great master! grave sir, hail! I come To answer thy best pleasure; be't to fly, To swim, to dive into the fire, to ride On the curl'd clouds, to thy strong bidding task Pros. Hast thou, spirit, Perform'd to point the tempest that I bade thee? I boarded the king's ship; now on the beak, Pros. My brave spirit! Who was so firm, so constant, that this coil Would not infect his reason? But felt a fever of the mad, and play'd Some tricks of desperation. All but mariners Plung'd in the foaming brine, and quit the vessel, Then all a-fire with me: the king's son, Ferdinand, With hair up-staring, then like reeds, not hair, Was the first man that leap'd; cried, "Hell is empty, And all the devils are here." Pros. But was not this nigh shore? Why, that's my spirit! Ari. Close by, my master. But are they, Ariel, safe? Pros. Pros. Of the king's ship The mariners, say how thou hast dispos'd, Ari. Who, with a charm join'd to their suffer'd labour, Supposing that they saw the king's ship wreck'd, Pros. Ariel, thy charge Exactly is perform'd: but there's more work. What is the time o' the day? Ari. Past the mid season. Pros. At least two glasses. The time 'twixt six and now Must by us both be spent most preciously. Ari. Is there more toil? Since thou dost give me pains, Let me remember thee what thou hast promis'd, Which is not yet perform'd me. Pros. What is't thou canst demand? Ari. How now, moody! My liberty. Pros. Before the time be out? no more! Ari. Remember I have done thee worthy service; I prithee, Told thee no lies, made no mistakings, serv'd Without or grudge or grumblings: thou didst promise Pros. Dost thou forget No. From what a torment I did free thee? Ari. Pros. Thou dost; and think'st it much to tread the ooze Of the salt deep, To run upon the sharp wind of the north, To do me business in the veins o' th' earth When it is bak'd with frost. Ari. I do not, sir. Pros. Thou liest, malignant thing! Hast thou forgot The foul witch Sycorax, who with age and envy Was grown into a hoop? hast thou forgot her? Ari. No, sir. Pros. Thou hast. Where was she born? speak; tell me. Ari. Sir, in Argier. Pros. O, was she so? I must Once in a month recount what thou hast been, Which thou forgett'st. This damn'd witch Sycorax, To enter human hearing, from Argier, Thou know'st, was banish'd: for one thing she did Ari. Ay, sir. Pros. This blue-ey'd hag was hither brought with child, And here was left by the sailors. Thou, my slave, As thou report'st thyself, wast then her servant; And, for thou wast a spirit too delicate To act her earthy and abhorr'd commands, Refusing her grand hests, she did confine thee, And in her most unmitigable rage, |