Exactly is perform'd; but there's more work : What is the time o' the day? Ari. [MIRANDA Sleeps. Come away, servant, come: I am ready now : Approach, my Ariel; come.

Of ever-angry bears. This Sycorax
Could not again undo; it was mine art,
When I arriv'd, and heard thee, that made gape
The pine, and let thee out.
Ari.

I thank thee, master.
Pro. If thou more murmur'st, I will rend an oak,
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 spriting gently.

Pro.

I will discharge thee.
Ari.
That's my noble master!
What shall I do? say what? what shall I do?
Pro. Go make thyself like to a nymph o' the sea;
Be subject to no sight but mine; invisible
To every eye-ball else. Go take this shape,
And hither come in't: hence, with diligence.

Of Sycorax, toads, beetles, bats, light on you!
For I am all the subjects that you have,
Which first was mine own king: and here you sty me
In this hard rock, whiles you do keep from me
The rest of the island.

Pro.

Thou most lying slave, Whom stripes may move, not kindness! I have us'd thee,

Do so; and after two days Filth as thou art, with human care; and lodg'd thee
In mine own cell, till thou did'st seek to violate
The honour of my child. Abhorred slave;
Which any print of goodness will not take,
Being capable of all ill! I pitied thee,
Took pains to make thee speak, taught thee each hour
One thing or other: when thou didst not, savage,
Know thine own meaning, but would'st gabble like
A thing most brutish, I endow'd thy purposes
With words that made them known: But thy vile

[Exit ARIEL. Awake, dear heart, awake! thou hast slept well; Awake!

Mira. The strangeness of your story put Heaviness in me.

Pro.

Shake it off: Come on, We'll visit Caliban, my slave, who never

Yields us kind answer.

Mira.

'Tis a villain, sir, I do not love to look on. Pro.

But, as 'tis,

race,

Though thou didst learn, had that in't which good

natures

Could not abide to be with; therefore wast thou
Deservedly confin'd into this rock,

Who hadst deserv'd more than a prison.

Cal. You taught me language; and my profit on't
Is, I know how to curse: the red plague rid 6 you,
For learning me your language!

Pro.
Hag-seed, hence!
Fetch us in fuel; and be quick, thou wert best,
To answer other business. Shrug'st thou, malice?
If thou neglect'st, or dost unwillingly

What I command, I'll rack thee with old cramps;
Fill all thy bones with aches; make thee roar,
That beasts shall tremble at thy din.

Cal.

No, 'pray thee! -
I must obey his art is of such power,
[Aside.
It would control my dam's god, Setebos,
And make a vassal of him.

Allaying both their fury, and my passion,
With its sweet air; thence I have follow'd it,
Or it hath drawn me rather:
But 'tis gone.

No, it begins again.

What, I say,
My foot my tutor! - Put thy sword up, traitor;
Who mak'st a show, but dar'st not strike, thy con-
science

Is so possess'd with guilt: come from thy ward 2;
For I can here disarm thee with this stick,
And make thy weapon drop.

Mira.

Beseech you father!
Pro. Hence; hang not on my garments.
Mira.
Sir, have pity;

I'll be his surety.

Pro.

Silence: one word more

Shall make me chide thee, if not hate thee. What!
An advocate for an impostor? hush!

Thou think'st there are no more such shapes as he,
Having seen but him and Caliban: Foolish wench!
And they to him are angels.
To the most of men this is a Caliban,

Mira.

My affections
Are then most humble; I have no ambition
To see a goodlier man.

Pro.

Come on; obey: [To FERD.
Thy nerves are in their infancy again,
And have no vigour in them.

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 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.

1 Frightful.

2 Guard.

SCENE I. - Another part of the Island.

ACT II.

Enter ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, GONZALO,
ADRIAN, FRANCISCO, and others.

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,
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.

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 pr'ythee, spare.

Gon. Well, I have done: But yet

Seb. He will be talking.

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 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 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.

well in our return.
Seb. 'Twas a sweet marriage, and we prosper

Adr. Tunis was never graced before with such a paragon to their queen.

Gon. Not since widow Dido's time.

Ant. How came that widow in? Widow Dido! Seb. What if he had said, widower Æneas too? good lord, how you take it!

study of that: she was of Carthage, not of Tunis.
Adr. Widow Dido, said you? you make me
Gon. This Tunis, sir, was Carthage.
Adr. Carthage?

Gon. I assure you, Carthage.

Ant. His word is more than the miraculous harp.
Seb. He hath rais'd the wall, and houses too.
Ant. What impossible matter will he make easy
next?

Ant. Which of them, he, or Adrian, for a good his pocket, and give it his son for an apple.

Seb. I think, he will carry this island home in

wager, first begins to crow?

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 marriage?

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,
My son is lost; and, in my rate, she too,
Who is so far from Italy removed,
B 4

Seb. Sir, you may thank yourself for this great nothing to you; so you may continue, and laugh loss;