And on this couple drop a blessed crown!
For it is you that have chalk'd forth the way
Which brought us hither.

say, Amen, Gonzalo!

Gon. Was Milan thrust from Milan, that his issue Should become kings of Naples? O, rejoice

Beyond a common joy! and set it down

With gold on lasting pillars,

In one voyage

Did Claribel her husband find at Tunis;

And Ferdinand, her brother, found a wife

Where he himself was lost; Prospero, his dukedom

In a poor isle; and all of us, ourselves

When no man was his own.

Alon. [to Fer. and Mir.] Give me your hands: Let grief and sorrow still embrace his heart

That doth not wish you joy!

Gon.

Be't so! Amen!

Re-enter ARIEL, with the Master and Boatswain amazedly following.

O, look, sir, look, sir! here is more of us:

I prophesied, if a gallows were on land,
This fellow could not drown.

Now, blasphemy, That swear'st grace o'erboard, not an oath on shore? Hast thou no mouth by land? What is the news?

Boats. The best news is, that we have safely found Our king and company; the next, our ship Which, but three glasses since, we gave out split — Is tight, and yare, and bravely rigg'd, as when

We first put out to sea.

Ari. [aside to Pros.] Sir, all this service

Have I done since I went.

Pros. [aside to Ari.] My tricksy spirit!

Alon. These are not natural events; they strengthen From strange to stranger. Say, how came you hither? Boats. If I did think, sir, I were well awake,

I'd strive to tell you. We were dead of sleep,

And how we know not

all clapp'd under hatches;
Where, but even now, with strange and several noises
Of roaring, shrieking, howling, jingling chains,
And more diversity of sounds, all horrible,
We were awak'd; straightway, at liberty:
When we, in all her trim, freshly beheld
Our royal, good, and gallant ship; our master
Capering to eye her: on a trice, so please you,
Even in a dream, were we divided from them,
And were brought moping hither.

Ari. [aside to Pros.]

Was't well done?

Pros. [aside to Ari.] Bravely, my diligence. Thou shalt

be free.

Alon. This is as strange a maze as e'er men trod; And there is in this business more than nature

Was ever conduct of: some oracle

Must rectify our knowledge.

Pros.

Sir, my liege,

Do not infest your mind with beating on

The strangeness of this business; at pick'd leisure,
Which shall be shortly, single I'll resolve you

Which to you shall seem probable — of every
These happen'd accidents: till when, be cheerful,
And think of each thing well. - [Aside to Ari.] Come hither,
spirit:

Set Caliban and his companions free;

Untie the spell. [Exit Ariel.] — How fares my gracious sir? There are yet missing of your company

Some few odd lads that you remember not.

Re-enter ARIEL, driving in CALIBAN, STEPHANO, and TRINCULO, in their stolen apparel.

Ste. Every man shift for all the rest, and let no man take

care for himself; for all is but fortune. Coragio, bullymonster, coragio!

Trin. If these be true spies which I wear in my head, here's a goodly sight.

Cal. O Setebos, these be brave spirits indeed! How fine my master is! I am afraid

What things are these, my lord Antonio?
Will money buy 'em?

Ant.

Very like; one of them

Is a plain fish, and, no doubt, marketable.

Pros. Mark but the badges of these men, my lords,
Then say if they be true. This mis-shapen knave, -
His mother was a witch; and one so strong

That could control the moon, make flows and ebbs,
And deal in her command, without her power.

These three have robb'd me; and this demi-devil
For he's a bastard one had plotted with them
To take my life: two of these fellows you
Must know and own; this thing of darkness I
Acknowledge mine.

Cal.

I shall be pinch'd to death.

Alon. Is not this Stephano, my drunken butler?
Seb. He is drunk now: where had he wine?

Alon. And Trinculo is reeling ripe: where should they

Find this grand liquor that hath gilded 'em?

How cam'st thou in this pickle?

Trin. I have been in such a pickle, since I saw you last, that, I fear me, will never out of my bones: I shall not fear fly-blowing.

Seb. Why, how now, Stephano!

Ste. O, touch me not;

I am not Stephano, but a cramp.

Pros. You'd be king o' the isle, sirrah?
Ste. I should have been a sore one, then.

Alon.

This is as strange a thing as e'er I look'd on.
[Pointing to Caliban.

Pros. He is as disproportion'd in his manners
As in his shape. Go, sirrah, to my cell;
Take with you your companions; as you look
To have my pardon, trim it handsomely.

Cal. Ay, that I will; and I'll be wise hereafter, And seek for grace. What a thrice-double ass Was I, to take this drunkard for a god,

And worship this dull fool!

Alon. Hence, and bestow your luggage where you found it. Seb. Or stole it, rather.

[Exeunt Cal., Ste., and Trin. Pros. Sir, I invite your highness and your train

To my poor cell, where you shall take your rest
For this one night; which part of it- - I'll waste
With such discourse as, I not doubt, shall make it

Go quick away, the story of my life,

And the particular accidents gone by

--

Since I came to this isle: and in the morn
I'll bring you to your ship, and so to Naples,
Where I have hope to see the nuptial
Of these our dear-belov'd solémnizèd;
And thence retire me to my Milan, where
Every third thought shall be my grave.

Alon.
I long
To hear the story of your life, which must
Take the ear strangely.

Pros.

I'll deliver all;

And promise you calm seas, auspicious gales,

And sail so expeditious, that shall catch

Your royal fleet far off. — [Aside to Ari.] My Ariel,— chick,—

That is thy charge: then to the elements

Be free, and fare thou well! — Please you,

draw near.

[Exeunt.

EPILOGUE.

SPOKEN BY PROSPERO.

Now my charms are all o'erthrown,
And what strength I have's mine own,—
Which is most faint: now, 'tis true,
I must be here confin'd by you,
Or sent to Naples. Let me not,
Since I have my dukedom got,
And pardon'd the deceiver, dwell
In this bare island by your spell;
But release me from my bands
With the help of your good hands:
Gentle breath of yours my sails
Must fill, or else my project fails,
Which was to please: now I want
Spirits to enforce, art to enchant;
And my ending is despair,
Unless I be reliev'd by prayer,
Which pierces so, that it assaults
Mercy itself, and frees all faults.
As you from crimes would pardon'd be,
Let your indulgence set me free.