Lingering perdition (worse than

any death Can be at once) shall step by step attend

You, and your ways; whose wrath to guard you from

(Which here, in this most desolate isle, else falls Upon your heads,) is nothing, but heart's sorrow, And a clear life ensuing.

He vanishes in thunder: then, to soft music, enter the Shapes again, and dance with mops and mowes, and carry out the table.

Pro. [Aside.] Bravely the figure of this harpy
hast thou

Perform'd, my Ariel; a grace it had, devouring:
Of my instruction hast thou nothing 'bated,
In what thou hadst to say: so, with good life,
And observation strange, my meaner ministers
Their several kinds have done: my high charms
work,

And these, mine enemies, are all knit up

In their distractions: they now are in my power; And in these fits I leave them, whilst I visit

Young Ferdinand (whom they suppose is drown'd,) And his and my lov'd darling.

[Exit Prospero from above. Gon. I' the name of something holy, sir, why stand you

In this strange stare?

Alon. O, it is monstrous! monstrous! Methought, the billows spoke, and told me of it; The winds did sing it to me; and the thunder, That deep and dreadful organ-pipe, pronounc'd The name of Prosper; it did bass my trespass. Therefore my son i' the ooze is bedded; and I'll seek him deeper than e'er plummet sounded, And with him there lie mudded. [Exit.

Seb.

But one fiend at a time,

(1) Pure, blameless.

I'll fight their legions o'er.
Ant.

I'll be thy second. [Exeunt Seb. and Ant. Gon. All three of them are desperate; their great guilt,

Like poison given to work a great time after, Now 'gins to bite the spirits:-I do beseech you That are of suppler joints, follow them swiftly, And hinder them from what this ecstasyl

May now provoke them to.

Adr.

Follow, I pray you.

[Exeunt.

ACT IV.

SCENE I.-Before Prospero's cell. Enter Prospero, Ferdinand, and Miranda.

Pro. 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,

Pro. Then, as my gift, and thine own acquisition Worthily purchas'd, take my daughter: But

If thou dost break her virgin knot before

All sanctimonious ceremonies may

With full and holy rite be minister'd,

(1) Alienation of mind.

No sweet aspersion1 shall the heavens let fall
To make this contract grow; but barren hate,
Sour-ey'd disdain, and discord, shall bestrew
The union of your bed with weeds so loathly,
That you shall hate it both: therefore, take heed,
As Hymen's lamps shall light you.
As I hope
For quiet days, fair issue, and long life,

Fer.

With such love as 'tis now; the murkiest den,
The most opportune place, the strongest suggestion
Our worser Genius can, shall never melt
Mine honour into lust; to take away
The edge of that day's celebration,

When I shall think, or Phoebus' steeds are founder'd,
Or night kept chain'd below.

Pro.

Fairly spoke:
Sit then, and talk with her, she is thine own.→
What, Ariel: my industrious servant Ariel!

Enter Ariel.

Ari. What would my potent master? here I am. Pre. Thou and thy meaner fellows your last service

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.

Ari.

Pro. Ay, with a twink.

Presently?

Ari. 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.

(1) Sprinkling.

Pro. Dearly, my delicate Ariel: Do not approach, Till thou dost hear me call.

Ari.

Well I conceive.

[Exit.

Pro. Look, thou be true; do not give dalliance Too much the rein; the strongest oaths are straw To the fire i' the blood: be more abstemious, Or else, good night, your vow!

I warrant you, sir;

Fer.
The white-cold virgin snow upon my heart
Abates the ardour of my liver.

Well.

and pertly.

Pro.
Now come, my Ariel; bring a corollary,1
Rather than want a spirit; appear,
No tongue; all eyes; be silent.

A Masque. Enter Iris.

[Soft music.

Iris. Ceres, most bounteous lady, thy rich leas
Of wheat, rye, barley, vetches, oats, and pease;
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 hest2 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 watery arch, and messenger, am I,
Bids thee leave these; and with her sovereign
grace,

Here on this grass-plot, in this very place,
To come and sport: her peacocks fly amain;
Approach, rich Ceres, her to entertain.

Enter Ceres.

Cer. Hail, many-colour'd messenger, that ne'er

(1) Surplus.

(2) Command.

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 bosky1 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.

Cer.

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 Dis2 my daughter got,
Her and her blind boy's scandal'd company

I have forsworn.

Iris.

Of her society

Be not afraid I met her deity

Cutting the clouds towards Paphos; and her son Dove-drawn with her: here thought they to have done

Some wanton charm upon this man and maid,
Whose vows are, that no bed-rite shall be paid
Till Hymen's torch be lighted: but in vain;
Mars's hot minion is return'd again;

Her waspish-headed son has broke his arrows,
Swears he will shoot no more, but play with spar-

rows,

And be a boy right out.

Cer.

Highest queen of state,

Great Juno comes; I know her by her gait.

Enter Juno.

Juno. How does my bounteous sister? Go with

me

To bless this twain, that they may prosperous be, And honour'd in their issue.