A rotten carcass of a boat, not rigg'd,
Nor tackle, fail, nor maft; the very rats
Instinctively had quit it: there they hoift us,
To cry to the fea that roar'd to us; to figh
To the winds, whofe pity, fighing back again,
Did us but loving wrong.

MIRA. Alack! what trouble

Was I then to you!

PRO. O! a cherubim

Thou waft, that did preferve me! Thou didst smile,
Infused with a fortitude from heaven,

When I have deck'd the sea with drops full falt;
Under my burden groan'd; which rais'd in me
An undergoing stomach, to bear up

Against what should enfue.

MIRA. HOW came we afhore?

PRO. By Providence divine.

Some food we had, and some fresh water, that
A noble Neapolitan, Gonzalo,

Out of his charity, (who being then appointed
Master of this design,) did give us; with

Rich garments, linens, stuffs, and neceffaries,

Which fince have fteaded much fo, of his gentleness,
Knowing I lov'd my books, he furnish'd me,
From my own library, with volumes that

I prize above my dukedom.

MIRA. 'Would I might

But ever fee that man!

PRO. Now I arife :

Sit ftill, and hear the last of our sea-sorrow.
Here in this ifland we arriv'd; and here
Have I, thy schoolmafter, made thee more profit
Than other princes can, that have more timę

For vainer hours, and tutors not fo careful.
MIRA. Heavens thank for't! And now,

you, fir,

you

(For ftill 'tis beating in my mind) your reason For raising this fea-storm?

PRO. Know thus far forth.

By accident most strange, bountiful fortune,
Now my dear lady, hath mine enemies
Brought to this fhore: and by my prescience
I find zenith doth depend upon

my

I pray

A most auspicious ftar; whose influence
If now I court not, but omit, my fortunes
Will ever after droop.-Here cease more questions;
Thou art inclin'd to fleep; 'tis a good dulnefs,
And give it way;-I know thou can'ft not choose.-
[MIRANDA fleeps.
Come away, fervant, come: I am ready now;
Approach, my Ariel; come.

Enter ARIEL.

ARI. All hail, great mafter! grave fir, hail! I come To answer thy best pleasure; be't to fly,

To fwim, to dive into the fire, to ride

On the curl'd clouds; to thy ftrong bidding, task

Ariel, and all his quality.

PRO. Haft thou, fpirit,

Perform'd to point the tempeft that I bade thee?
ARI. TO every article.

I boarded the king's fhip; now on the beak,
Now in the waift, the deck, in every cabin,
I flam'd amazement: Sometimes, I'd divide,
And burn in many places; on the top-mast,
The yards and bowfprit, would I flame diftinctly,
Then meet, and join: Jove's lightnings, the precurfors

O' the dreadful thunder-claps, more momentary

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

PRO. My brave spirit!

Who was fo firm, fo conftant, that this coil
Would not infect his reason?

ARI. Not a foul

But felt a fever of the mad, and play'd

Some tricks of defperation: All, but mariners,
Plung❜d in the foaming brine, and quit the vessel,
Then all a-fire with me: the king's fon, 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.

PRO. Why, that's my fpirit!

But was not this nigh fhore?
ARI. Close by, my mafter.
PRO. But are they, Ariel, fafe?
ARI. Not a hair perish'd;

On their sustaining garments not a blemish,
But fresher than before: and, as thou bad'ft me,
In troops I have difpers'd them 'bout the isle:
The king's fon have I landed by himself;
Whom I left cooling of the air with fighs,
In an odd angle of the isle, and fitting,
His arms in this fad knot.

PRO. Of the king's ship,

The mariners, fay, how thou haft difpos'd,
And all the rest o' the 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 still-vex'd Bermoothes, there fhe's hid:
The mariners all under hatches ftow'd;

Whom, with a charm join'd to their fuffer'd labour,
I have left asleep: and for the rest o' the fleet,
Which I difpers'd, they all have met again;
And are upon the Mediterranean flote,

Bound fadly home for Naples;

Suppofing that they faw the king's fhip wreck'd,
And his great perfon perish.

PRO. Ariel, thy charge

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

ARI. Paft the mid feason.

PRO. At least two glaffes: The time 'twixt fix and now, Muft by us both be spent most preciously.

ARI. Is there more toil? Since 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 can'st demand?

ARI. My liberty.

PRO. Before the time be out? no more.

ARI. I pray thee

Remember, I have done thee worthy fervice;

Told thee no lies, made no mistakings, ferv'd

Without or grudge, or grumblings: thou didft promife 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'ft

It much, to tread the ooze of the falt deep;

To run upon the sharp wind of the north;
To do me business in the veins o' the earth,
When it is bak'd with froft.

ARI. I do not, fir.

PRO. Thou lieft, 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, fir.

PRO. Thou haft: Where was she born? speak; tell me.
ARI. Sir, in Argier.

PRO. O, was fhe fo? I muft,

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

Thou know'st, was banish'd; for one thing fhe did,
They would not take her life: Is not this true?
ARI. Ay, fir.

PRO. This blue-ey'd hag was hither brought with child,
And here was left by the failors: Thou, my slave,
As thou report'ft thyself, waft then her fervant:
And, for thou waft a spirit too delicate
To act her earthy and abhorr'd commands,
Refufing her grand hefts, she did confine thee,
By help of her more potent ministers,
And in her most unmitigable rage,
Into a cloven pine; within which rift
Imprison'd, thou didst painfully remain

A dozen years; within which space she died,

And left thee there; where thou didst vent thy groans, As fast as mill-wheels ftrike: Then was this island

(Save for the fon that she did litter here,

A freckled whelp, hag-born) not honour'd with