Pro. Thou most lying slave, die d Whom stripes may move, not kindnese: I have -us'd thee,

Pro. If thou more murmur st, I will rend an Filth as thou art, with human care; and lodg'd

[Exit.I must obey his art is of such power,

Pro. Thou poisonous slave, got by the devil It would control my dam's god, Setebos, †

Thou strokd'st me, and mad'st much of me; It sounds no more :--and sure, it waits upon

thee ?

Fer. A single thing, as I am now, that won

ders

To hear thee speak of Naples: He does hear me ;
And, that he does, I weep: myself am Naples;
Who with mine eyes, ne'er since at ebb, beheld
The king, my father, wreck'd.

Mira. Alack, for mercy!

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.

Per. No, as I am a man.

Mira. There's nothing ill can dwell in such

temple:

If the ill spirit have so fair an hoase,
Good things will strive to dwell with t.
Pro. Follow me.-

[TO FEED.
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 sball be
The fresh-brook muscles, wither'd roots, and
husks,

Wherein the acorn cradled: Follow.

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 mad”
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

Fer. Yes, faith, and all his lords; the duke Let liberty make use of space; enough

of Milan,

Have I in such a prison.

Pro. It works:- Come on.-
Thou hast done well, fine Ariel!-Follow me.-
[7% FERD. and MIBA.
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 unwoated,
Which now came from him.

Pro. Thou shalt be as free

As mountain winds: but then exactly de
All points of my command.
Ari. To the syllable.

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

(So bave we all) of joy: for our escape
Is much beyond our loss: Our hint of woe
Is common; every day, some sailor's wife,
The mast rs of some merchant, and the mer.
chant,

Have just our theme of woe: but for the mi-
racle,

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. 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 barp.

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 bome in

Gon. When every grief is entertained, that's his pocket, and give it his son for an apple.

offer'd,

Comes to the entertainer

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. Fie, what a spendthrift is he of his tongue I

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.

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 day I wore it? I mean, in a sort. *
Ant. That sort was well fish'd for.
Gon. When I wore it at your daughter's mar.
riage?

Alon. You cram these words into mine ears,
against

The stomach of my sense: 'Would I had never
Married my daughter there! for, coming thence,

Adr. Though this island seem to be desert, My son is lost; and, in my rate, she too,

Adr. Uninhabitable, and almost inaccessible,- Of Naples and of Milan, what strange fish

Hath made his meal on thee!
Fran. Sir, he may live;

I saw him beat the surges under him,

Adr. It must needs be of subtle, tender, and And ride upon their backs; he trod the water, Whose enmity he flung aside, and breasted delicate temperance. * The surge most swoin that met him: his bold head

Ant. The ground, indeed, is tawny.
Seb. With an eye of green in't.
Ant. He misses not much.

Seb. No; he doth but mistake the truth totally.

Goa. 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 dyed, 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 #he king of Tunis.

Seb. 'Twas a sweet marriage, and we prosper

Seb. Yery well.

Ant. And most chirurgeonly.

Gon. It is foul weather in us all, good Sir, When you are cloudy.

Although this lord of weak remembrance, this (Who shall be of as little memory, amWhen be is earth'd) hath here almost persuaded (For he's a spirit of persuasion only,) The king, his son's alive; 'tis as impossible That he's undrown'd, as he that sleeps here, swims.

You did supplant your brother Prospero.
Ant. True:

And, look, how well my garments sit upon me;
Much feater than before: My brother's servants
Were then my fellows, now they are my men.
Seb. But, for your conscience-

Ant. Ay, Sir; where lies that? if it were a
kybe,

'Twould put me to my slipper; but I feel not This deity in my bosom: twenty consciences, That stand 'twixt me and Milan, candied be

they,

And melt, ere they molest! Here lies your bro. ther,

No better than the earth he lies upon,

If he were that which now he's like; whom I,
With this obedient steel, three inches of it,
Can lay to bed for ever: whiles you, doing thus,
To the perpetual wink for aye might put
This ancient morsel, this sir Prudence, who
For all the rest,
Should not upbraid our course.
They'll take suggestion, as a cat laps milk;
They'll tell the clock to any business that
We say befits the hour.

Seb. Thy case, dear friend,

Shall be my precedent; as thou got'st Milan, I'll come by Naples. Draw thy sword: one stroke

Shall free thee from, the tribute which thou pay'st;

And I the king shall love thee.

Ant. Draw together:

And when I rear my hand, do you the like,
To fall it on Gonzalo.

Seb. Oh but one word.

[They converse apart.
Musie. Re-enter ARIEL, invisible.
Ari. My master through his art foresees the
danger
That these, his friends, are in; and sends me
forth,

(For else his project dies,) to keep them living.
[Sings in GONZALO's car.

While you here do snoring lie,
Open-ey'd conspiracy

His time doth take:

If of life you keep a care,
Shoke off slumber, and beware:
Awake! awake!

Aut. Then let us both be sudden.
Gon. Now, good angels, preserve the king;
[They awake.
Alon. Why, how now, ho! awake! Why are
you drawn?

Wherefore this ghastly looking f
Gon. What's the matter?

Seb. Whiles we stood here securing your re-
pose,

Even now, we heard a hollow burst of bellowing Like bulls, or rather lions; did it not wake you? 11 struck mine ear most terribly.

Aton. I beard nothing.

635

To make an earthquake! sure it was the roar
Of a whole herd of lious.

Alon. Heard you this, Gonzalo ?

Gon. Upon mine honour, Sir, I heard a humming,

And that a strange one too, which did awake [open'd,

me:

I shak'd you, Sir, and cried; as mine eyes saw their weapons drawn :-there was a noise,

That's verity: 'Best stand upon our guard;
Or that we quit this place: let's draw our wea-

pons.

Alon. Lead off this ground; and let's make further search

For my poor son.

Gon. Heavens keep him from these beasts!
For he is, sure, i' the island.

Alon. Lead away.

Ari. Prospero my lord shall know what I have

done:

So, king, go safely on to seek thy son.

[Aside. [Exeunt.

SCENE II.-Another part of the island.
Enter CALIBAN, with a burden of wood.

A noise of thunder heard.

Cal. All the infections that the sun sucks up From bogs, fens, flats, on Prosper fall, and make him

By inch-meal a disease! His spirits hear me,
But they'll nor
And yet I needs must curse.
pinch,

Fright nie with urchin shows, pitch me i' the
mire,

Nor lead me, like a fire-brand, in the dark
Out of my way, unless he bid them; but
For every trifle are they set upon me :
Sometime like apes, that moe and chatter at

Enter TRINCULO.

Here comes a spirit of his; and to torment me,
For bringing wood in slowly I'll fall flat;
Perchance, he will not mind me.

Trin. Here's neither bush nor shrub, to bear
off any weather at all, and another storm brew-
ing; I hear it sing i' the wind: yond' same
black cloud, yond' huge one, looks like a foul
bumbard that would shed his liquor. If it
should thunder, as it did before, I know not
where to hide my head: yond' same cloud can-
not choose but fall by pailfuls.-What have
we here? a man or a fish? Dead or alive? A
fish he smells like a fish; a very ancient and
fish-like smell; a kind of uot of the newest
Poor-John. A strange fish! Were 1 in Eugland
now (as once I was,) and bad but this fish
painted, not a holiday-fool there but would give
a piece of silver: there would this monster
make a man; any strange beast there makes a
man: when they will not give a doit to relieve
a lame beggar, they will lay out ten to see a
dead Indian. Legg'd like a man! and his fins
like arms! Warm, o' my troth! I do now let
loose my opinion, hold it no longer; this is no
fish but an islander, that hath lately suffered by
a thunderbolt. [Thunder.] Alas! the storm is
come again; my best way is to creep under his
gaberdine; there is no other shelter hereabout:
Misery acquaints a man with strange bed-fellows.
I will here shroud, till the dregs of the storm be

Ant. Oh! 'twas a din to fright a monster's past. ear;