To see a goodlier man.

Pro.

Come on; obey:

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

Fer.

So they are:

[to Fer.

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 Fer. and Mir. [to Ariel.

Be of comfort;

Hark, what thou else shalt do me.

Mir.

My father's of a better nature, sir,

Than he appears by speech: this is unwonted,
Which now came from him.

Pro.

Thou shalt be as free

As mountain winds: but then exactly do

All points of my command.

Ari.

To the syllable.

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

ACT II.

SCENE I.

Another part of the island.

Enter ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO,

ADRIAN, FRANCISCO, and others.

GONZALO,

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 woe
Is common; every day, some sailor's wife,

2

1

The masters of some merchant, and the merchant,
Have just our theme of woe: 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.

Alon.

Pr'ythee, peace.

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.

1 The cause that fills our minds with grief.
• Owners of a merchant-ship.

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. Fie, what a spendthrift is he of his tongue! Alon. I pry'thee, 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!

Ant. So, you've paid.

Adr. Uninhabitable, and almost inaccessible,

Seb. Yet,

Adr. Yet

Ant. He could not miss it.

Adr. It must needs be of subtle, tender, and delicate temperance.1

Ant. Temperance was a delicate wench.

Seb. Ay, and a subtle, as he most learnedly delivered.

Temperature.

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 lush1 and lusty the grass looks! how green!

Ant. The ground, indeed, is tawny.
Seb. With an eye of green 2 in 't.

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 vouched rarities are.

Gon. That our garments, being, as they were drenched in the sea, hold notwithstanding their freshness, and glosses; being rather new dyed, than stained 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.

1 Juicy, succulent.

2 Shade of green.

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 Æneas 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.1

Seb. He hath raised the wall, and houses too.
Ant. What impossible matter will he make easy

next?

Seb. I think, he will carry this island home in his pocket, and give it his son for an apple.

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.

1 Alluding to the wonders of Amphion's music.