ACT FOURTH SCENE I [Before Prospero's cell.] Enter Prospero, Ferdinand, and Miranda. Pros. If I have too austerely punish'd you, Fer. Your compensation makes amends, for I Do not smile at me that I boast her off, For thou shalt find she will outstrip all praise 10 Against an oracle. I do believe it Pros. Then, as my gift and thine own acquisition With full and holy rite be minist'red, No sweet aspersion shall the heavens let fall 15 Fer. Pros. Sour-eyed Disdain and Discord shall bestrew 20 As I hope For quiet days, fair issue, and long life, With such love as 'tis now, the murkiest den, 25 The most opportune place, the strong'st suggestion Mine honour into lust, to take away The edge of that day's celebration When I shall think or Phoebus' steeds are founder'd Or Night kept chain'd below. 30 Fairly spoke. Sit then and talk with her; she is thine own. Enter Ariel. Ari. What would my potent master? Here I am. 36 40 Ari. Presently? Pros. Ay, with a twink. Ari. Before you can say "come" and "go," 66 And breathe twice and cry "so, so," Each one, tripping on his toe, Will be here with mop and mow. Pros. Dearly, my delicate Ariel. Ari. No? Do not approach 45 Well, I conceive. 50 Pros. Look thou be true; do not give dalliance Fer. Pros. I warrant you, sir; Well. Now come, my Ariel! bring a corollary, Rather than want a spirit. Appear, and pertly! Enter Iris. 1 55 Soft music. Iris. Ceres, most bounteous lady, thy rich leas 60 Of wheat, rye, barley, vetches, oats, and pease; Thy banks with pioned and twilled brims, 65 To make cold nymphs chaste crowns; and thy Whose shadow the dismissed bachelor loves, the queen o' the 70 Whose watery arch and messenger am I, Bids thee leave these, and with her sovereign grace, Juno descends. Here on this grass-plot, in this very place, Enter Ceres. Cer. Hail, many-coloured messenger, that ne'er 75 80 Who with thy saffron wings upon my flowers Iris. A contract of true love to celebrate; And some donation freely to estate On the blest lovers. 85 Cer. Iris. C'er. Tell me, heavenly bow, If Venus or her son, as thou dost know, Of her society Be not afraid. I met her deity 90 Cutting the clouds towards Paphos, and her son done Some wanton charm upon this man and maid, 95 Her waspish-headed son has broke his arrows, rows And be a boy right out. 100 Highest queen of state, Great Juno, comes; I know her by her gait. [Enter Juno.] Juno. How does my bounteous sister? Go with me To bless this twain, that they may prosperous be And honour'd in their issue. Juno. Honour, riches, marriage-blessing, Long continuance, and increasing, They sing. 106 |