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SCENE I.—Before PROSPERO's Cell.
Enter PROSPERO, FERDINAND, and MIRANDA.
Prospero. If I have too austerely punish'd you,
Your compensation makes amends; for I
Have given you here a thread of mine own life,
Or that for which I live; whom once again
I tender to thy hand: all thy vexations
Were but my trials of thy love, and thou
Hast strangely stood the test: here, afore Heaven,
I ratify this my rich gift. O Ferdinand,
Do not smile at me, that I boast her off,
For thou shalt find she will outstrip all praise,
And make it halt behind her.
I do believe it,
Against an oracle.
Prospero. Then, as my gift, and thine own acquisition
Worthily purchasd, take my child, but not
Till sanctimonious ceremonies may
With full and holy rites be minister'd.
Then Hymen's lamps shall light you.
As I hope
For quiet days, fair issue, and long life,
With such love as 'tis now; the strong'st suggestion
Our worser Genius can, shall never taint
Prospero. Fairly spoke:
Sit then, and talk with her, she is thine own. -
What, Ariel; my industrious servant Ariel!
Ariel. What would my potent master? here I am.
Prospero. Thou and thy meaner fellows your last
Did worthily perform; and I must use you
In such another trick: go, bring the rabble,
O'er whom I give thee power, here, to this place:
Incite them to quick motion; for I must
Bestow upon the eyes of this young couple
Some vanity of mine art; it is my promise,
And they expect it from me.
Prospero. Ay, with a twink.
Ariel. Before you can say, Come, and go,
And breathe twice; and cry, so, so;
Each one, tripping on his toe,
Will be here with mop and mowe:
Do you love me, master? no.
Prospero. Dearly, my delicate Ariel: Do not ap-
Till thou dost hear me call.
Well I conceive. [Exit.
Prospero. Look, thou be true.
I warrant you, sir.
Well. Now come, my Ariel; bring a corollary,5 Rather than want a spirit; appear, and pertly.— No tongue; all eyes; be silent.
[Soft musick. A Masque. Enter IRIS. Iris. Ceres, most bounteous lady, thy rich leas Of wheat, rye, barley, vetches, oats, and peas; Thy turfy mountains, where live nibbling sheep, And flat meads thatch'd with stover, them to keep; Thy banks with peonied and lilied brims, Which spongy April at thy hest6 betrims, To make cold nymphs chaste crowns; and thy broom
groves, Whose shadow the dismissed bachelor loves, Being lass-lorn; thy pole-clipt vineyard; And thy sea-marge, steril, and rocky-hard, Where thou thyself dost air: The queen o’the sky, Whose wat’ry arch, and messenger, am I, Bids thee leave these; and with her sovereign grace, 5 Surplus.
Here, on this grass-plot, in this very place,
To come and sport: her peacocks fly amain;
Approach, rich Ceres, her to entertain.
Ceres. Hail, many-colour'd messenger, that ne'er
Dost disobey the wife of Jupiter;
Who, with thy saffron wings, upon my flowers
Diffusest honey-drops, refreshing showers;
And with each end of thy blue bow dost crown
My bosky? acres, and my unshrubb’d down,
Rich scarf to my proud earth; Why hath thy queen
Summon'd me hither, to this short-grass'd green?
Iris. A contract of true love to celebrate;
And some donation freely to estate
On the bless'd lovers.
Tell me, heavenly bow,
If Venus, or her son, as thou dost know,
Do now attend the queen ? since they did plot
The means, that dusky Dis: my daughter got
Her and her blind boy's scandal'd company
I have forsworn.
Of her society
Be not afraid: I met her deity
Cutting the clouds towards Paphos; and her son
Dove-drawn with her.
Highest queen of state,
Great Juno comes: I know her by her gait.
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,
Hourly joys be still upon you!
Juno sings her blessings on you.
Ceres. Earth's increase, and foisono plenty:
Barns, and garners never empty;
Vines with clusťring bunches growing;
Plants, with goodly burden bowing;
Spring come to you, at the farthest,
the very end of harvest !
Scarcity and want shall shun you;
Ceres' blessing so is on you.
Ferdinand. This is a most majestic vision, and
Harmonious charmingly: May I be bold
To think these spirits?
Spirits, which by mine art
I have from their confines call’d to enact
My present fancies.
Ferdinand. Let me live here ever;
So rare a wonder'd 1 father, and a wife,
Make this place paradise.
[JUNO and CERES whisper, and send IRIS ON
Sweet now, silence :
Juno and Ceres whisper seriously;
There's something else to do: hush, and be mute,
Or else our spell is marr’d.
Iris. You nymphs, callid Naiads, of the wand'ring
With your sedg’d crowns, and ever harmless looks,
Leave your crisp channels, and on this green land
Answer your summons; Juno does command :
Come, temperate nymphs, and help to celebrate
A contract of true love; be not too late.
Enter certain Nymphs.
You sunburn'd sicklemen, of August weary,
Come hither from the furrow, and be merry;
Make holy-day: your rye-straw hats put on,
And these fresh nymphs encounter every one
In country footing.
Enter certain Reapers, properly habited: they join with
the Nymphs in a graceful dance; towards the end whereof PROSPERO starts suddenly, and speaks ; after which, to a strange, hollow, and confused noise, they heavily vanish.
Prospero. [Aside.] I had forgot that foul conspiracy Of the beast Caliban, and his confederates, Against my life; the minute of their plot Is almost come.—[To the Spirits.] Well done ;-avoid;
-no more. Ferdinand. This is most strange: your father's in
some passion That works him strongly. Miranda.
Never till this day,
Saw I him touch'd with anger so distemper'd.
Prospero. You do look, my son, in a mov'd sort,
As if you were dismay’d: be cheerful, sir:
Our revels now are ended: these our actors,
As I foretold you, were all spirits, and
Are melted into air, into thin air:
And, like the baseless fabrick of this vision,
The cloud-capp'd tow'rs, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve;
And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,
Leave not a rack behind: We are such stuff
As dreams are made of, and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep.-Sir, I am vex'd;
Bear with my weakness : my old brain is troubled.
Be not disturb'd with my infirmity :
If you be pleas'd, retire into my cell,
And there repose; a turn or two I'll walk,
To still my beating mind.
Ferdinand, Miranda. We wish your peace.
Exeunt. Prospero. Come with a thought:-1 thank you :