The mariners, say, how thou hast dispos'd, And all the rest o' the fleet?

Ari. Safely in harbour Is the king's ship; in the deep nook, where once Thou call'dst me up at midnight to fetch dew From the still-vex'd Bermoothes, there she's hid: The mariners all under hatches stowed;

Whom, with a charm join'd to their suffer'd labour,

I have left asleep and for the rest o' the fleet,
Which I dispers'd, they all have met again;
And are upon the Mediterranean flote2;
Bound sadly home for Naples;

Supposing that they saw the king's ship wreck'd,
And his great person perish.

Pro.

Ariel, thy charge Exactly is perform'd; but there's more work What is the time o' the day?

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?

me pains,

Since thou dost give

Pro. Thou dost; and think'st

No.、

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' the earth,
When it is bak'd with frost.

Ari.
I do not, sir.
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.
Ari. Sir, in Argier.3
Pro.

O, was she so? I must, Once in a month, recount what thou hast been,

Pro. Dull thing, I say so; he, that Caliban, Whom now I keep in service. Thou best know'st What torment I did find thee in thy groans Did make wolves howl, and penetrate the breasts Of ever angry bears: it was a torment To lay upon the damn'd, which Sycorax Could not again undo; it was mine art, When I arriv'd, and heard thee, that made gape The pine, and let thee out.

Ari. I thank thee, master. Pro. If thou more murmur'st, I will rend an oak, 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.

I will discharge thee.

Do so; and after two days.

Ari. That's my noble master! What shall I do? say what: what shall I do? Pro. Go make thyself like to a nymph o' the sea; Be subject to no sight but mine; invisible To every eye-ball else. Go, take this shape, And hither come in't: hence, with diligence.

[Exit Ariel.

Awake, dear heart, awake! thou hast slept well; Awake!

Mira. The strangeness of your story put Heaviness in me.

Pro.

We'll visit Caliban, my slave, who never

Shake it off: come on;

'Tis a villain, sir,

Yields us kind answer.

Mira.

But, as 'tis,

I do not love to look on.
Pro.
We cannot miss him: he does make our fire,
Fetch in our wood; and serves in offices
That profit us. What, ho! slave! Caliban!
Thou earth, thou! speak.

Cal. [Within.] There's wood enough within.
Pro. Come forth, I say; there's other business
for thee;
Come forth, thou tortoise! when?-

Re-enter Ariel, like a water-nymph.

And blister you all o'er!

Pro. For this, be sure, to-night thou shalt have

cramps,

Side-stitches, that shall pen thy breath up; urchins!
Shall, for that vast of night that they may work,
All exercise on thee: thou shalt be pinch'd
As thick as honey-combs, each pinch more stinging
Than bees that made them.

Cal.
I must eat my dinner.
This island's mine, by Sycorax, my mother,
Which thou tak'st from me. When thou camest first,
Thou strok'dst me, and mad'st much of me;
would'st give me

་་

Water with berries in't; and teach me how
To name the bigger light, and how the less,
That burn by day and night: and then I lov'd thee,
And show'd thee all the qualities o' the isle,
The fresh springs, brine pits, barren place, and
fertile;

Cursed be I that did so!-All the charms
Of Sycorax, toads, beetles, bats, light on you!
For I am all the subjects that you have,
Which first was mine own king; and here you sty me
In this hard rock, whiles you do keep from me
The rest of the island.

Pro.
-Thou most lying slave,"
Whom stripes may move, not kindness; I have

us'd thee,

Filth as thou art, with human care; and lodg'd thee In mine own cell, till thou didst seek to violate.. The honour of my child.

Cal. O ho, Oho!-'would it had been done! Thou didst prevent me; I had peopled else This isle with Calibans.

Pro.'

Abhorred slave;
Which any print of goodness will not take,
Being capable of all ill! I pitied thee,
Took pains to make thee speak, taught thee each
hour

One thing or other: when thou didst not, savage,
Know thine own meaning, but would'st gabble like
A thing most brutish, I endow'd thy purposes
With words that made them known: But thy vile.

natures

Could not abide to be with; therefore wast thou
Deservedly confin'd into this rock,
Who hadst desery'd more than a prison.

Cal. You taught me language; and my profit on't Is, I know how to curse: the red plague rid2 you, For learning me your language!

Pro. Hag-seed, hence! Fetch us in fuel; and be quick, thou wert best, To answer other business. Shrug'st thou, malice? If thou neglect'st, or dost unwillingly What I command, I'll rack thee with old cramps; Fill all thy bones with aches: make thee roar, That beasts shall tremble at thy din.

Cal. No, 'pray thee!

I must obey: his art is of such power,

It would control my dam's god, Setebos, And make a vassal of him.

Pro. ·

[Aside.

Re-enter Ariel, invisible, playing and singing;

Ferdinand following him.

ARIEL'S SONG.

Come unto these yellow sands,

And then take hands:

Court'sied when you have, and kiss'd,
(The wild waves whist3)
Foot it featly here and there;
And, sweet sprites, the burden bear.
Hark, hark!

Bur. Bowgh, wowgh.

The watch-dogs bark: Bur. Bowgh, wowgh.

[dispersedly.

[dispersedly.

Hark, hark! I hear
The strain of strutting chanticlere,
Cry, Cock-a-doodle-doo.

Fer. Where should this music be? i' the air, or the earth?

It sounds no more--and sure, it waits upon
Some god of the island. Sitting on a bank,
Weeping again the king my father's wreck,
This music crept by me upon the waters;
Allaying both their fury, and my passion,
With its sweet air: thence I have follow'd it,
Or it hath drawn me rather :-But 'tis gone.
No, it begins, again.

Lord, how it looks about! Believe me, sir,
What is't? a spirit?
It carries a brave form :-But 'tis a spirit.
Pro. No, wench; it eats and sleeps, and hath
such senses

As we have, such: this gallant which thou seest
Was in the wreck; and but he's something stain'd
With grief, that's beauty's canker, thou might'st
call him

And strays about to find them.
A goodly person: he hath lost his fellows,
Mira,
I might call him
A thing divine; for nothing natural
I ever saw so noble.

[Aside.

They have chang'd eyes:-Delicate Ariel,
I'll set thee free for this!-A word, good sir;
I fear, you have done yourself some wrong: a word.
Mira. Why speaks my father so ungently? This
Is the third man that ere I saw; the first
That ere I sigh'd for: pity move my father.
To be inclin'd my way!
O, if a virgin,

Fer.
And your affection not gone forth, I'll make you
The queen of Naples.
Pro.
Soft, sir; one word more.-
They are both in either's powers: but this swift
business

I must uneasy make, lest too light winning [Aside. Make the prize light.-One word more; I charge

thee,

That thou attend me: thou dost here usurp The name thou ow'st not: and hast put thyself Upon this island, as a spy, to win it

From me, the lord on't.

No, as I am a man.

Fer.
Mira. There's nothing ill can dwell in such a
temple :

If the ill spirit have so fair a house,
Good things will strive to dwell with 't.

Pro.

Follow me.[To Ferd. Speak not you for him; he's a traitor.-Come. I'll manacle thy neck and feet together: Sea-water shalt thou drink, thy food shall be The fresh-brook muscles, wither'd roots, and husks, Wherein the acorn cradled. Follow.

Pro.

Thy nerves are in their infancy again, And have no vigour in them.

Fer.

So they are:

My spirits, as in a dream, are all bound up.
My father's loss, the weakness which I feel,
The wreck of all my friends, or this man's threats,
To whom I am subdued, are but light to me,
Might I but through my prison, once a day,
Behold this maid: all corners else o' the earth
Let liberty make use of; space enough
Have I in such a prison.

Pro.

It works:-Come on.-.
Thou hast done well, fine Ariel!-Follow me.--
[To Ferd. and Mira.
Hark, what thou else shalt do me. [To Ariel.
Mira.
Be of comfort,

My father's of a better nature, sir,
Than he appears by speech; this is unwonted,
Which now came from him.
Thou shalt be as free
As mountain winds: but then exactly do
All points of my command.
Ari.

Pro.

To the syllable.

Pro. Come, follow: speak not for him. [Exeunt.

ACT II.

SCENE I-Another part of the island. Enter Alonso, Sebastian, Antonio, Gonzalo, Adrian, Francisco, and others.

Gon. 'Beseech you, sir, be merry: you have

cause

(So have we all) of joy; for our escape
Is much beyond our loss: our hint of wo
Is common; every day, some sailor's wife,
The masters of some merchant, and the merchant,
Have just our theme of wo: but for the miracle,
I mean our preservation, few in millions
Can speak like us: then wisely, good sir, weigh
Our sorrow with our comfort.
Pr'ythee, peace.

Alon.

Seb. He receives comfort like cold porridge. Ant. The visitor will not give him o'er so. Seb. Look, he's winding up the watch of his wit; by and by it will strike.

Gon. Sir.

Seb. One: -Tell.

Gon. When every grief is entertain'd, that's offer'd, Comes to the entertainer

Seb. A dollar. Gon. Dolour comes to. him, indeed; you have spoken truer than you proposed.

Seb. You have taken it wiselier than I meant you should...

Gon. Therefore, my lord,

Ant. Fie, what a spendthrift is he of his tongue! Alon. I pr'ythee, spare.

Gon. Well, I have done: but yet

Seb. He will be talking.

Ant. Which of them, he, or Adrian, for a good wager, first begins to crow?"

Seb. The old cock.

Ant. The cockrel.
Seb. Done: the wager?
Ant. A laughter.

Seb. A match.

Adr. Though this island seem to be desert,

Seb. Ha, ha, ha!

Alon. You cram these words into mine ears,

Ant. So, you've pay'd.

Seb. Yet,

Adr. Yet

against

Ant. He could not miss it.

delicate temperance.

Ant. Temperance was a delicate wench. Seb. Ay, and a subtle; as he most learnedly delivered.

Adr. The air breathes upon us here most sweetly.
Seb. As if it had lungs, and rotten ones.
Ant. Or, as 'twere perfumed by a fen.
Gon. Here is every thing advantageous to life.
Ant. True; save means to live.
Seb. Of that there's none, or little.

Gon. How lush and lusty the grass looks! green!

Ant. The ground, indeed, is tawny.
Seb. With an eyes of green in't,

Ant. He misses not much.

Of Naples and of Milan, what strange fish Hath made his meal on thee!

Fran.

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?

Seb. Ay, or very falsely pocket up his report. Gon. Methinks, our garments are now as fresh as when we put them on first in Afric, at the marriage of the king's fair daughter Claribel to the king of Tunis.

Seb. 'Twas a sweet marriage, and we prosper well in our return.

Adr. Tunis was never grac'd 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 Eneas too? good lord, how you take it!

Adr. Widow Dido, said you? you make me study of that: she was of Carthage, not of Tunis. Gon. This Tunis, sir, was Carthage. Adr. Carthage?

Gon. I assure you, Carthage.

Ant. His word is more than the miraculous harp. Seb. He hath rais'd the wall, and houses too. Ant. What impossible matter will he make easy

next?

Ant. Why, in good time.

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. And the rarest that e'er came there.
Seb. 'Bate, I beseech you, widow Dido.
Ant. O, widow Dido; ay, widow Dido.

Alon.

No, no, he's gone.

Seb. Sir, you may thank yourself for this great

loss;

Very foul.

Gon. Had I a plantation of this isle, my lord,Ant. He'd sow it with nettle-seed. Seb. Or docks, or mallows. Gon. And were the king of it, What would I do? Seb. 'Scape being drunk, for want of wine. Gon. I' the commonwealth I would by contraries Execute all things: for no kind of traffic Would I admit; no name of magistrate; Letters should not be known; no use of service, Of riches or of poverty; no contracts, Successions; bound of land, tilth, vineyard, none : No use of metal, corn, or wine, or oil: No occupation; all men idle, all; And women too; but innocent and pure : No sovereignty:

Gon. All things in common nature should produce Without sweat or endeavour: treason, felony, Sword, pike, knife, gun, or need of any engine,s

(4) Degree or quality.. (5) The rack.