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(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,
So safely order'd, that there is no soul-
Dost thou attend me?
Mira. Sir, most heedfully.
Pro. Being once perfected how to grant suits, How to deny them; whom to advance, and whom To trash for over-topping; new created
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,
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 Ont 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,
Mira. But that I do not.
Like a good parent, did beget of him
As my trust was; which had, indeed, no limit,
To credit his own lie, — he did believe
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, With all the honours, ou my brother: Whereon,
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,
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,
When I have deck'd the sea with drops full salt;
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.
(For still 'tis beating in my mind,) your reason
Pro. Know thus far forth.
By accident most strange, bountiful Fortune,
Of sulphurous roaring, the most mighty Neptune
Who was so firm, so constant, that this coil
Ari. Not a soul
But felt a fever of the mad, and play'd
On their sustaining garments not a blemish,
Pro. Of the king's ship,
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
Must by us both be spent most preciously.
Ari. Is there more toil? Since thou dost give me pains, Let me remember thee what thou hast promis'd, Which is not yet perform'd me.
Pro. How now? moody?
What is't thou can'st demand?
Ari. My liberty.
Come away, servant, come: I am ready now;
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
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?
Pro. Thou dost: and think'st
It much, to tread the ooze of the salt deep;
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?
Side-stitches that shall pen thy breath up; urchins
Cal. I must eat 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: 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, O ho!-'would it had been done!
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.
Pro. Dull thing, I say so; he, that Caliban,
When I arriv'd, and heard thee, that made gape
Ari. I thank thee, master.
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,
We cannot miss him: he does make our fire,
That profit us. —
Thou earth, thou! speak.
Cal. [Within.] There's wood enough within.
Re-enter AKIEL, like a water-nymph.
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
Could not abide to be with; therefore wast thou
Pro. Hag-seed, hence!
Fetch us in fuel; and be quick, thou wert best,
What I command, I'll rack thee with old cramps;
Cal. No, pray thee!
I must obey: his art is of such power, [Aside. It would controul my dam's god, Setebos,
And make a vassal of him.
Pro. So, slave, hence!
Re-enter ARIEL invisible, playing and singing; FERDINAND following him.
Come unto to these yellow sands,
And then take hands:
Curt'sied when you have, and kiss'd, (The wild waves whist,)
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
Mira. Alack, for mercy!
Fer. Yes, faith, and all his lords; the duke of Milan, And his brave son, being twain.
Pro. The duke of Milan,
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
Full fathom five thy father lies;
Fer. O, if a virgin,
Mira. What is't? a spirit?
Lord, how it looks about! Believe me, sir,
Pro. No, wench; it eats and sleeps, and hath such
As we have, such: This gallant, which thou seest,
A goodly person: he hath lost his fellows,
And strays about to find them.
Mira. I might call him
A thing divine; for nothing natural
I ever saw so noble.
Pro. It goes on,
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;
Fer. My language! heavens!
I am the best of them that speak this speech,
Pro. How! the best?
What wert thou, if the king of Naples heard thee?
I will resist such entertainment, till
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,
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,
My spirits, as in a dream, are all bound up.
Hark, what thou else shalt do m
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
Pro. Come, follow: speak not for him.
A C T II.
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?
[Exeunt. 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 Africk, at the marriage of the king's fair daughter, Claribel, to the king of Tunis.
SCENE I. — Another part of the Island.
Gon. 'Beseech you, sir, be merry: you have cause
Alon. Pr'ythee, peace.
Seb. He receives comfort like cold porridge.
Seb. Look, he's winding up the watch of his wit; by and by it will strike.
Seb. One: Tell.
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? 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.
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. Fye, what a spendthrift is he of his tongue!
Gon. Well, I have done: But yet
Seb. He will be talking.
Ant. And, sowing the kernels of it in the sea, bring forth more islands. Gon. Ay?
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. Gon. Is not, sir, my doublet as fresh as the first
Ant. Which of them, he, or Adrian, for a good day I wore it? I mean, in a sort.
wager, first begins to crow?
Seb. The old cock.
Ant. That sort was well fish'd for.
Gon. When I wore it at your daughter's marriage?
I ne'er again shall see her. O thou mine heir
Fran. Sir, he may live;
I saw him beat the surges under him,
And ride upon their backs; he trod the water,
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.
The surge most swoln that met him: his bold head
Alon. No, no, he's gone.
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;