(Of thee, my dear one! thee, my daughter!) who | And rapt in secret studies. Thy false uncle — Art ignorant of what thou art, nought knowing Of whence I am; nor that I am more better Than Prospero, master of a full poor cell, And thy no greater father. Mira. More to know Did never meddle with my thoughts. I should inform thee further. Lend thy hand, Dost thou attend me? Mira. Sir, most heedfully. Pro. Being once perfected how to grant suits, The creatures that were mine; I say, or chang'd them, To what tune pleas'd his ear; that now he was Mira. O, good sir, I do. Pro. I thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicate Which thou heard'st cry, which thou saw'st sink. Sit Awak'd an evil nature; and my trust, down; For thou must now know further. Mira. You have often Begun to tell me what I am; but stopp'd, Pro. The hour's now come: The very minute bids thee ope thine ear; Obey, and be attentive! Can'st thou remember A time before we came unto this cell? I do not think thou can'st; for then thou wast not Out three years old. Mira. Certainly, sir, I can. Pro. By what? by any other house, or person? Of any thing the image tell me, that Hath kept with thy remembrance. Mira. 'Tis far off; And rather like a dream than an assurance, If thou remember'st aught, ere thou cam'st here, Mira. But that I do not. Like a good parent, did beget of him A falsehood, in its contrary as great - like one, As my trust was; which had, indeed, no limit, Mira. Your tale, sir, would cure deafness. Mira. O, the heavens! Pro. Mark his condition, and the event; then tell me, Pro. Twelve years since, Miranda, twelve years since, If this might be a brother. Thy father was the duke of Milan, and A prince of power. Mira. Sir, are not you my father? Pro. Thy mother was a piece of virtue, and She said thou wast my daughter; and thy father Was duke of Milan; and his only heir A princess; no worse issued. Mira. O, the heavens! Mira. I should sin To think but nobly of my grandmother: Pro. Now the condition. This king of Naples, being an enemy What foul play had we, that we came from thence? Should presently extirpate me and mine Pro. Both, both, my girl: Out of the dukedom; and confer fair Milan, By foul play, as thou say'st, were we heav'd thence; A treacherous army levied, one midnight But blessedly holp hither. Mira. O, my heart bleeds - To think o' the teen that I have turn'd you to, Fated to the purpose, did Antonio open Mira. Alack, for pity! I, not rememb'ring how I cried out then, That wrings mine eyes. Pro. Hear a little further, And then I'll bring thee to the present business, Which now's upon us; without the which, this story Were most impertinent. Mira. Wherefore did they not That hour destroy us? Pro. Well demanded, wench; My tale provokes that question. Dear, they durst not; And sight-out-running were not: The fire, and cracks (So dear the love my people bore me) nor set A mark so bloody on the business; but Mira. Alack! what trouble Pro. O a cherubim Thou wast, that did preserve me! Thou didst smile, Mira. How came we ashore? Some food we had, and some fresh water, that Out of his charity, (who being then appointed. Mira. 'Would I might But ever see that man! Pro. Now I arise: Sit still, and hear the last of our sea-sorrow. Have I, thy school-master, made thee more profit (For still 'tis beating in my mind,) your reason Pro. Know thus far forth. By accident most strange, bountiful Fortune, [Miranda sleeps. Come away, servant, come: I am ready now; Approach, my Ariel; come. Enter ARIEL. Of sulphurous roaring, the most mighty Neptune Seem'd to besiege, and make his bold waves tremble, Yea, his dread trident shake. Pro. My brave spirit! Who was so firm, so constant, that this coil Would not infect his reason? Ari. Not a soul But felt a fever of the mad, and play'd Pro. Why, that's my spirit! On their sustaining garments not a blemish, The mariners, say, how thou hast dispos'd, Ari. Safely in harbour Is the king's ship; in the deep nook, where once Supposing that they saw the king's ship wreck'd, Exactly is perform'd; but there's more work: Ari, Past the mid season. Pro. 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, What is't thou can'st demand? Pro. Before the time be out? no more. Remember, I have done thee worthy service; Ari. All hail, great master! grave sir, hail! I come Told thee no lies, made no mistakings, serv'd 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 Ariel, and all his quality. Pro. Hast thou, spirit, Perform'd to point the tempest that I bade thee? I boarded the king's ship; now on the beak, Without or grudge, or grumblings: thou did'st pro- Pro. Dost thou forget From what a torment I did free thee? Ari. No. Pro. Thou dost: and think'st It much, to tread the ooze of the salt deep; Ari. I do not, sir. mise Pro. 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. Pro. Thou hast: Where was she born? speak; tell me. Pro. O, was she so? I must, Once in a month, recount what thou hast been, Pro. This blue-ey'd hag was hither brought with And here was left by the sailors: Thou, my slave, Ari. Yes; Caliban, her son. Hark in thine ear. [Exit. Ari. My lord, it shall be done. Pro. Dull thing, I say so; he, that Caliban, When I arriv'd, and heard thee, that made gape Ari. I thank thee, master. Cal. As wicked dew as e'er my mother brush'd Pro. For this, be sure, to-night thou shalt have cramps, urchins Side-stitches that shall pen thy breath Cal. I must cat my dinner. This island's mine, by Sycorax my mother, Water with berries in't; and teach me how Pro. Thou most lying slave, Whom stripes may move, not kindness: Í have us’d Filth as thou art, with human care; and lodg'd thee Cal. O ho, O ho!-'would it had been done! Pro. If thou more murmur'st, I will rend an oak, Thou didst prevent me; I had peopled else And peg thee in his knotty entrails, till Thou hast howl'd away twelve winters. Ari. Pardon, master: I will be correspondent to command, And do my spiriting gently. Pro. Do so; and after two days I will discharge thee. Ari. That's my noble master! What shall I do? say what? what shall I do? [Exit Ariel. Awake, dear heart, awake! thou hast slept well: Awake! Mira. The strangeness of your story put Heaviness on me. Pro. Shake it off: Come on; We'll visit Caliban, my slave, who never Mira. 'Tis a villain, sir, I do not love to look on. Pro. But, as 'tis, This isle with Calibans. Pro. Abhorred slave; Which any print of goodness will not take, Took pains to make thee speak, taught thee each hour And then take hands: Curt'sied when you have, and kiss'd, Foot it featly here and there; And, sweet sprites, the burden bear. Bur. Bowgh, wowgh. The watch-dogs bark: Bur. Bowgh, wowgh. Hark, Hark! I hear And his more braver daughter, could control thee, If now 'twere fit to do't:-At the first sight [Aside. [Dispersedly. They have chang'd eyes:-Delicate Ariel, I'll set thee free for this!-A word, good sir; [Dispersedly. I fear you have done yourself some wrong: A word. Mira. Why speaks my father so ungently? This Is the third man that e'er I saw; the first That e'er I sigh'd for: pity move my father, or To be inclin'd my way! The strain of strutting chanticlere Fer. Where should this music be? i' the air, It sounds no more:- and sure, it waits upon ARIEL sings. Mira. What is't? a spirit? Lord, how it looks about! Believe me, sir, As my soul prompts it:-Spirit, fine spirit! I'll free thee Fer. Most sure, the goddess On whom these airs attend! - Vouchsafe, my prayer Mira. No wonder, sir; But certainly a maid. Fer. My language! heavens! I am the best of them that speak this speech, What wert thou, if the king of Naples heard thee? Fer. O, if a virgin, I will resist such entertainment, till [He draws. Put thy sword up, traitor; Who mak'st a shew, but dar'st not strike, thy conscience Is so possess'd with guilt: come from thy ward; Mira. Beseech you, father! Pro. Hence! hang not on my garments. I'll be his surety. Pro. Silence: one word more Shall make me chide thee, if not hate thee. What! - Thou think'st, there are no more such shapes as he. And they to him are angels. Mira. My affections Are then most humble; I have no ambition Pro. Come on; obey: Thy nerves are in their infancy again, [To Ferd. My spirits, as in a dream, are all bound up. Have I in such a prison. Pro. It works: Come on. Ant. The ground, indeed, is tawny. Thou hast done well, fine Ariel! Follow me. [To Ferd. and Mir. Sa [To Ariel. Hark, what thon else shalt do me. My father's of a better nature, sir, Than he appears by speech; this is unwonted, Pro. Thou shalt be as free As mountain winds: but then exactly do All points of my command. Ari. To the syllable. Ant. He misses not much. Seb. No; he doth but mistake the truth totally. Gon. But the rarity of it is, (which is indeed almost beyond credit) Seb. As many vouch'd rarities are. Gon. That our garments, being, as they were, drenched in the sea, hold, notwithstanding, their freshness, and glosses; being rather new dy'd, than stain'd with salt water. Ant. If but one of his pockets could speak, would it not say, he lies? Pro. Come, follow: speak not for him. [Exeunt. Seb. Ay, or very falsely pocket up his report. АСТ II. SCENE I. Another part of the Island. Gon. 'Beseech you, sir, be merry: you have cause Can speak like us: then wisely, good sir, weigh Gon. Methinks, our garments are now as fresh as when we put them on first in Africk, at the marriage of the king's fair daughter, Claribel, to the king of Tanis. Seb. 'Twas a sweet marriage, and we prosper well in our return. Adr. Tunis was never graced before with such a paragon to their queen. Gon. Not since widow Dido's time. Ant. Widow? a pox o' that! How came that widow in? Widow Dido! Seb. What if he had said, widower Aeneas too? Adr. Widow Dido, said you? you make me stu- Gon. I assure you, Carthage. Ant. His word is more than the miraculous harp. Gon. When every grief is entertain'd, that's offer'd, pocket, and give it his son for an apple. Seb. A dollar. Gon, Dolour comes to him, indeed; you have spoken truer than you purposed. Seb. You have taken it wiselier than I meant you should. Gon. Therefore, my lord, Ant. And, sowing the kernels of it in the sea, bring forth more islands. Gon. Ay? Gon. Sir, we were talking, that our garments seem now as fresh, as when we were at Tunis at the marriage of your daughter, who is now queen. Ant. Why, in good time. Ant. Fye, what a spendthrift is he of his tongue! Ant. And the rarest that e'er came there. Alon. I pr'ythee, spare. Seb. 'Bate, I beseech you, widow Dido. Ant. Which of them, he, or Adrian, for a good day I wore it? I mean, in a sort. Gon. Well, I have done: But yet Seb. He will be talking. Adr. It must needs be of subtle, tender, and de- Whose enmity he flung aside, and breasted Ant. Temperance was a delicate wench. Seb. Of that there's none, or little. Seb. Sir, you may thank yourself for this great loss; Gon. How lush and lusty the grass looks? how green? But rather lose her to an African; |