Chapter XII: Act I: SCENE I.--On a Ship at sea. A Storm, with Thunder and Lightning

_Enter _Master_ and _Boatswain_ severally._

_MASTER speaks._

Boatswain!

_Boats._ Here, master: what cheer?

_Mast._ Good,[366-1] speak to the mariners: fall to't yarely,[366-2] or we run ourselves a-ground: bestir, bestir. [_Exit._

_Enter_ Mariners.

_Boats._ Heigh, my hearts! cheerly, cheerly, my hearts! yare, yare! Take in the top-sail. Tend to the master's whistle. [_Exeunt_ Mariners.]--Blow till thou burst thy wind,[366-3] if room enough![366-4]

_Enter ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, FERDINAND, GONZALO, and Others._

_Alon._ Good boatswain, have care. Where's the master? Play the men.[366-5]

_Boats._ I pray now, keep below.

_Anto._ Where is the master, boatswain?

_Boats._ Do you not hear him? You mar our labour: keep your cabins; you do assist the storm.

_Gonza._ Nay, good, be patient.

_Boats._ When the sea is. Hence! What care these roarers for the name of king? To cabin: silence! trouble us not.

_Gonza._ Good, yet remember whom thou hast aboard.

_Boats._ None that I more love than myself. You are a counsellor: if you can command these elements to silence, and work the peace of the present,[367-6] we will not hand a rope more; use your authority: if you cannot, give thanks you have lived so long, and make yourself ready in your cabin for the mischance of the hour, if it so hap.[367-7]--Cheerly, good hearts!--Out of our way, I say. [_Exit._

_Gonza._ I have great comfort from this fellow: methinks he hath no drowning-mark upon him; his complexion[367-8] is perfect gallows.--Stand fast, good Fate, to his hanging! make the rope of his destiny our cable, for our own doth little advantage! If he be not born to be hang'd, our case is miserable. [_Exeunt._

_Re-enter_ Boatswain.

_Boats._ Down with the top-mast! yare; lower, lower! Bring her to try wi' th' main-course.[367-9] [_A cry within._] A plague upon this howling! they are louder than the weather or our office,[367-10]--

_Re-enter SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, and GONZALO._

Yet again! what do you here? Shall we give o'er, and drown? Have you a mind to sink?

_Sebas._ A pox o' your throat, you bawling, blasphemous, incharitable dog!

_Boats._ Work you, then.

_Anto._ Hang, cur, hang! you insolent noisemaker, we are less afraid to be drown'd than thou art.

_Gonza._ I'll warrant him for drowning,[368-11] though the ship were no stronger than a nut-shell.

_Boats._ Lay her a-hold, a-hold! set her two courses![368-12] off to sea again: lay her off!

_Re-enter _Mariners,_ wet._

_Mariners._ All lost! to prayers, to prayers! all lost! [_Exeunt._

_Boats._ What, must our mouths be cold?

_Gonza._ The King and Prince at prayers! let us assist them,
For our case is as theirs.

_Sebas._ I'm out of patience.

_Anto._ We're merely[368-13] cheated out of our lives by drunkards.
This wide-chopp'd rascal--would thou mightst lie drowning,
The washing of ten tides!

_Gonza._ He'll be hang'd yet,
Though every drop of water swear against it,
And gape at widest to glut[368-14] him.

(_A confused noise within._) Mercy on us! We split, we split!--Farewell, my wife and children!--Farewell, brother!--We split, we split, we split! [_Exit_ Boatswain.

_Anto._ Let's all sink wi' th' King. [_Exit._

_Sebas._ Let's take leave of him. [_Exit._

_Gonza._ Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea for an acre of barren ground; ling, heath, broom, furze,[369-15] anything. The wills[369-16] above be done! but I would fain die a dry death. [_Exit._

SCENE II.--_The Island: before the Cell of PROSPERO._

_Enter PROSPERO and MIRANDA._

_Mira._ If by your art, my dearest father, you have
Put the wild waters in this roar, allay them.
The sky, it seems, would pour down stinking pitch,
But that the sea, mounting to th' welkin's cheek,[369-1]
Dashes the fire out. O, I have suffer'd
With those that I saw suffer! a brave[369-2] vessel,
Who had no doubt some noble creatures in her,
Dash'd all to pieces. O, the cry did knock
Against my very heart! Poor souls, they perish'd!
Had I been any god of power, I would
Have sunk the sea within the earth, or e'er[369-3]
It should the good ship so have swallow'd, and
The fraughting[370-4] souls within her.

_Pros._ Be collected;
No more amazement:[370-5] tell your piteous heart
There's no harm done.

_Mira._ O, woe the day!

_Pros._ No harm.
I have done nothing but in care of thee,--
Of thee, my dear one, thee, my daughter,--who
Art ignorant of what thou art, nought knowing
Of whence I am; nor that I am more better[370-6]
Than Prospero, master of a full-poor cell,
And thy no greater father.

_Mira._ More to know
Did never meddle[370-7] with my thoughts.

_Pros._ 'Tis time
I should inform thee further. Lend thy hand,
And pluck my magic garment from me.--So:
[_Lays down his robe._
Lie there, my art.[370-8]--Wipe thou thine eyes; have comfort.
The direful spectacle of the wreck, which touch'd
The very virtue of compassion in thee,
I have with such prevision in mine art
So safely order'd, that there is no soul[370-9]--
No, not so much perdition as an hair
Betid to any creature in the vessel
Which thou heard'st cry, which thou saw'st sink. Sit down;
For thou must now know further.

_Mira._ You have often
Begun to tell me what I am; but stopp'd
And left me to a bootless inquisition,[372-10]
Concluding, _Stay, not yet_.

_Pros._ The hour's now come;
The very minute bids thee ope thine ear:
Obey, and be attentive. Canst thou remember
A time before we came unto this cell?
I do not think thou canst; for then thou wast not
Out[372-11] three years old.

_Mira._ Certainly, sir, I can.

_Pros._ 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
That my remembrance warrants. Had I not
Four or five women once that tended me?

_Pros._ Thou hadst, and more, Miranda. But how is it
That this lives in thy mind? What see'st thou else
In the dark backward and abysm of time?
If thou remember'st aught ere thou camest here,
How thou camest here, thou mayst.[372-12]

_Mira._ But that I do not.

_Pros._ Twelve year since, Miranda, twelve year since,
Thy father was the Duke of Milan, and
A prince of power.

_Mira._ Sir, are you not my father?

_Pros._ Thy mother was a piece of virtue, and
She said thou wast my daughter; and thy father
Was Duke of Milan; thou his only heir,
A princess--no worse issued.

_Mira._ O the Heavens!
What foul play had we, that we came from thence?
Or blessèd was't we did?

_Pros._ Both, both, my girl:
By foul play, as thou say'st, were we heaved thence;
But blessedly holp[373-13] hither.

_Mira._ O, my heart bleeds
To think o' the teen[373-14] that I have turn'd you to,
Which is from my remembrance! Please you, further.[373-15]

_Pros._ My brother, and thy uncle, call'd Antonio,--
I pray thee, mark me;--that a brother should
Be so perfidious!--he whom, next thyself,
Of all the world I loved, and to him put
The manage[373-16] of my State; as, at that time,
Through all the signiories[373-17] it was the first,
And Prospero the prime[373-18] Duke; being so reputed
In dignity, and for the liberal arts
Without a parallel: those being all my study,
The government I cast upon my brother,
And to my State grew stranger, being transported
And rapt in secret studies. Thy false uncle,--
Dost thou attend me?

_Mira._ Sir, most heedfully.

_Pros._--Being once perfected how to grant suits,
How to deny them; who[374-19] t' advance, and who
To trash[374-20] for over-topping[374-21]--new-created
The creatures that were mine, I say, or changed 'em,
Or else new-form'd 'em; having both the key[374-22]
Of officer and office, set all hearts i' the State
To what tune pleased his ear; that[374-23] now he was
The ivy which had hid my princely trunk,
And suck'd the verdure out on't. Thou attend'st not.

_Mira._ O good sir, I do.

_Pros._ I pray thee, mark me.
I thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicated
To closeness,[374-24] and the bettering of my mind
With that which, but[374-25] by being so retired,
O'er-prized all popular rate,[374-26] in my false brother
Awaked an evil nature; and my trust,
Like a good parent, did beget of him
A falsehood, in its contrary as great
As my trust was; which had indeed no limit,
A confidence sans[375-27] bound. He being thus lorded,
Not only with what my revenue yielded,
But what my power might else exact,--like one
Who having unto truth, by falsing of it,[375-28]
Made such a sinner of his memory
To[375-29] credit his own lie,--he did believe
He was indeed the Duke; out o' the substitution,[375-30]
And executing the outward face of royalty,
With all prerogative: hence his ambition growing,--
Dost thou hear?[375-31]

_Mira._ Your tale, sir, would cure deafness.

_Pros._ To have no screen between this part he play'd
And them he play'd it for, he needs will be
Absolute Milan.[375-32] Me,[375-33] poor man, my library
Was dukedom large enough: of temporal royalties
He thinks me now incapable; confederates--
So dry he was for sway[376-34]--wi' th' King of Naples
To give him annual tribute, do him homage,
Subject his coronet to his crown, and bend
The dukedom, yet unbow'd,--alas, poor Milan![376-35]--
To most ignoble stooping.[376-36]

_Mira._ O the Heavens!

_Pros._ This King of Naples, being an enemy
To me inveterate, hearkens my brother's suit;
Which was, that he, in lieu[376-37] o' the premises,--
Of homage, and I know not how much tribute,--
Should presently[376-38] extirpate me and mine
Out of the dukedom, and confer fair Milan,
With all the honours, on my brother: whereon,
A treacherous army levied, one midnight
Fated to th' practice[376-39] did Antonio open
The gates of Milan; and, i' the dead of darkness,
The ministers for th' purpose hurried thence
Me and thy crying self.[376-40]

_Mira._ Alack, for pity!
I, not remembering how I cried on't then,
Will cry it o'er again: it is a hint[377-41]
That wrings mine eyes to't.

_Pros._ Hear a little further,
And then I'll bring thee to the present business
Which now's upon's;[377-42] without the which this story
Were most impertinent.[377-43]

_Mira._ Wherefore did they not
That hour destroy us?

_Pros._ Well demanded, wench:[377-44]
My tale provokes that question. Dear, they durst not--
So dear the love my people bore me--set
A mark so bloody on the business; but
With colours fairer painted their foul ends.
In few,[377-45] they hurried us aboard a bark,
Bore us some leagues to sea; where they prepared
A rotten carcass of a boat, not rigg'd,
Nor tackle, sail, nor mast; the very rats
Instinctively had quit it: there they hoist[377-46] us,
To cry to th' sea that roar'd to us; to sigh
To th' winds, whose pity, sighing back again,
Did us but loving wrong.

_Mira._ Alack, what trouble
Was I then to you!

_Pros._ O, a cherubim
Thou wast that did preserve me! Thou didst smile,
Infusèd with a fortitude from Heaven,
When I have degg'd[378-47] the sea with drops full salt,
Under my burden groan'd; which raised in me
An undergoing stomach,[378-48] to bear up
Against what should ensue.

_Mira._ How came we ashore?

_Pros._ By Providence divine.
Some food we had, and some fresh water, that
A noble Neapolitan, Gonzalo,
Out of his charity,--being then appointed
Master of this design,--did give us; with
Rich garments, linens, stuffs, and necessaries,
Which since have steaded[378-49] much; so, of his gentleness,
Knowing I loved my books, he furnish'd me,
From mine own library, with volumes that
I prize above my dukedom.

_Mira._ Would I might
But ever see that man!

_Pros._ Now I arise:[378-50]
Sit still, and hear the last of our sea-sorrow.
Here in this island we arrived; and here
Have I, thy schoolmaster, made thee more profit[378-51]
Than other princesses can, that have more time
For vainer hours, and tutors not so careful.

_Mira._ Heavens thank you for't! And now, I pray you, sir,--
For still 'tis beating in my mind,--your reason
For raising this sea-storm?

_Pros._ Know thus far forth:
By accident most strange, bountiful Fortune--
Now my dear lady--hath mine enemies
Brought to this shore; and by my prescience
I find my zenith[379-52] doth depend upon
A most auspicious star, whose influence
If now I court not, but omit, my fortunes
Will ever after droop.[379-53] Here cease more questions:
Thou art inclined to sleep; 'tis a good dulness,
And give it way: I know thou canst not choose.[379-54]
[_MIRANDA sleeps._
Come away, servant, come! I'm ready now:
Approach, my Ariel; come!

_Enter ARIEL._

_Ari._ All hail, great master! grave sir, hail! I come
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
Ariel and all his quality.[379-55]

_Pros._ Hast thou, spirit,
Perform'd to point[379-56] the tempest that I bade thee?

_Ari._ To every article.
I boarded the King's ship; now on the beak,[379-57]
Now in the waist,[380-58] the deck, in every cabin,
I flamed amazement: sometime I'd divide,
And burn in many places; on the top-mast,
The yards, and bowsprit, would I flame distinctly,[380-59]
Then meet and join. Jove's lightnings, the precursors
O' the dreadful thunder-claps, more momentary[380-60]
And sight-outrunning were not: the fire, and cracks
Of sulphurous roaring, the most mighty Neptune
Seem'd to besiege, and make his bold waves tremble.
Yea, his dread trident shake.

_Pros._ My brave spirit!
Who was so firm, so constant, that this coil[380-61]
Would not infect his reason?

_Ari._ Not a soul
But felt a fever of the mad,[380-62] and play'd
Some tricks of desperation. All but mariners
Plunged in the foaming brine, and quit the vessel.
Then all a-fire with me: The King's son, Ferdinand,
With hair up-staring,[380-63]--then like reeds, not hair,--
Was the first man that leap'd; cried, _Hell is empty,
And all the devils are here_.

_Pros._ Why, that's my spirit!
But was not this nigh shore?

_Ari._ Close by, my master.

_Pros._ But are they, Ariel, safe?

_Ari._ Not a hair perish'd;
On their unstaining[381-64] garments not a blemish,
But fresher than before: and, as thou badest me,
In troops I have dispersed them 'bout the isle.
The King's son have I landed by himself;
Whom I left cooling of the air with sighs
In an odd angle[381-65] of the isle, and sitting,
His arms in this sad knot.[381-66]

_Pros._ Of the King's ship
The mariners, say, how hast thou disposed,
And all the rest o' the fleet?[381-67]

_Ari._ Safely in harbour
Is the King's ship; in the deep nook, where once
Thou call'dst me up at midnight to fetch dew
From the still-vex'd Bermoothes,[381-68] there she's hid:
The mariners all under hatches stow'd;
Who, with a charm join'd to their suffer'd labour,
I've left asleep:[381-69] and, for the rest o' the fleet
Which I dispersed, they all have met again,
And are upon the Mediterranean flote,[382-70]
Bound sadly home for Naples;
Supposing that they saw the King's ship wreck'd,
And his great person perish.

_Pros._ Ariel, thy charge
Exactly is performed: but there's more work.
What is the time o' the day?

_Ari._ Past the mid season,
At least two glasses.[382-71]

_Pros._ The time 'twixt six and now
Must by us both be spent most preciously.

_Ari._ Is there more toil? Since thou dost give me pains,
Let me remember[382-72] thee what thou hast promised,
Which is not yet perform'd[382-73] me.

_Pros._ How now! moody?
What is't thou canst demand?

_Ari._ My liberty.

_Pros._ Before the time be out? no more![382-74]

_Ari._ I pr'ythee,
Remember I have done thee worthy service;
Told thee no lies, made no mistakings, served
Without or grudge or grumblings: thou didst promise
To bate me a full year.[382-75]

_Pros._ Dost thou forget
From what a torment I did free thee?

_Ari._ No.

_Pros._ Thou dost; and think'st it much to tread the ooze
Of the salt deep; to run upon the sharp
Wind of the North; to do me business in
The veins o' the earth when it is baked with frost.[383-76]

_Ari._ I do not, sir.

_Pros._ Thou liest, malignant thing![383-77] Hast thou forgot
The foul witch Sycorax, who with age and envy[383-78]
Was grown into a hoop? hast thou forgot her?

_Ari._ No, sir.

_Pros._ Thou hast: where was she born? speak; tell me.

_Ari._ Sir, in Argier.[383-79]

_Pros._ O, was she so? I must
Once in a month recount what thou hast been,
Which thou forgett'st. This damn'd witch Sycorax,
For mischiefs manifold, and sorceries terrible
To enter human hearing, from Argier,
Thou know'st, was banish'd. Is not this true?

_Ari._ Ay, sir.

_Pros._ This blue-eyed hag[383-80] was hither brought,
And here was left by th' sailors. Thou, my slave,
As thou report'st thyself, wast then her servant;
And, for[383-81] thou wast a spirit too delicate
To act her earthy and abhorr'd commands,
Refusing her grand hests,[384-82] she did confine thee,
By help of her more potent ministers,
And in her most unmitigable rage,
Into[384-83] a cloven pine; within which rift
Imprison'd thou didst painfully remain
A dozen years; within which space she died,
And left thee there; where thou didst vent thy groans
As fast as mill-wheels strike. Then was this island--
Save for the son that she did litter here,[384-84]
A freckled whelp, hag-born--not honour'd with
A human shape.

_Ari._ Yes, Caliban her son.

_Pros._ Dull thing, I say so; he, that Caliban,
Whom now I keep in service. Thou best know'st
What torment I did find thee in: thy groans
Did make wolves howl, and penetrate the breasts
Of ever-angry bears. It was a torment
To lay upon the damn'd, which Sycorax
Could not again undo: it was mine art,
When I arrived and heard thee, that made gape
The pine, and let thee out.

_Ari._ I thank thee, master.

_Pros._ If thou more murmur'st, I will rend an oak,
And peg thee in his knotty entrails, till
Thou'st howl'd away twelve Winters.

_Ari._ Pardon, master:
I will be correspondent[384-85] to command,
And do my spriting gently.

_Pros._ 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?

_Pros._ Go make thyself like to a nymph o' the sea:
Be subject to no sight but mine; invisible
To every eyeball else. Go take this shape,
And hither come in't: hence, with diligence!--
[_Exit ARIEL._
Awake, dear heart, awake! thou hast slept well;
Awake!

_Mira._ [_Waking._] The strangeness of your story put
Heaviness in me.

_Pros._ 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.

_Pros._ But, as 'tis,
We cannot miss him:[385-86] he does make our fire,
Fetch in our wood, and serves in offices
That profit us.--What, ho! slave! Caliban!
Thou earth, thou! speak.

_Cal._ [_Within._] There's wood enough within.

_Pros._ Come forth, I say! there's other business for thee:
Come forth, thou tortoise! when![385-87]--

_Re-enter ARIEL, like a Water-nymph._

Fine apparition! My quaint[386-88] Ariel,
Hark in thine ear.

_Ari._ My lord, it shall be done. [_Exit._

_Pros._ Thou poisonous slave, come forth!

_Enter CALIBAN._

_Cal._ As wicked[386-89] dew as e'er my mother brush'd
With raven's feather from unwholesome fen
Drop on you both! a south-west blow on ye,
And blister you all o'er![386-90]

_Pros._ For this, be sure, to-night thou shalt have cramps,
Side-stitches[386-91] that shall pen thy breath up; urchins[386-92]
Shall, for that vast[386-93] of night that they may work,
All exercise on thee; thou shalt be pinch'd
As thick as honeycomb, each pinch more stinging
Than bees that made 'em.

_Cal._ I must eat my dinner
This island's mine, by Sycorax my mother.
Which thou takest from me. When thou camest here first,
Thou strokedst me, and madest much of me; wouldst give me
Water with berries in't[386-94] and teach me how
To name the bigger light, and how the less,
That burn by day and night: and then I loved thee,
And show'd thee all the qualities o' the isle,
The fresh springs, brine-pits, barren place, and fertile.
Cursèd be that I did so! All the charms
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[387-95] me
In this hard rock, whiles you do keep from me
The rest o' the island.

_Pros._ Abhorrèd slave,
Which any print of goodness wilt 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,[387-96] but wouldst gabble like
A thing most brutish, I endow'd thy purposes
With words that made them known. But thy vile race,
Though thou didst learn, had that in't which good natures
Could not abide to be with; therefore wast thou
Deservedly confined into this rock,
Who hadst deserved more than a prison.

_Cal._ You taught me language; and my profit on't
Is, I know how to curse. The red plague rid[387-97] you
For learning me your language!

_Pros._ Hag-seed, hence!
Fetch us in fuel; and be quick, thou'rt best,
To answer other business. Shrugg'st thou, malice?
If thou neglect'st, or dost unwillingly
What I command, I'll rack thee with old[388-98] cramps,
Fill all thy bones with achès, make thee roar,
That beasts shall tremble at thy din.

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

_Pros._ So, slave; hence!
[_Exit CALIBAN._

_Re-enter ARIEL, invisible, playing and singing; FERDINAND following._

ARIEL'S SONG

Come unto these yellow sands,
And then take hands:
Curtsied when you have, and kiss'd
The wild waves whist,[388-99]
Foot it featly here and there;
And, sweet sprites, the burden bear.
Hark, hark! { _Burden dispersedly._
The watch-dogs bark: { Bow-wow.
Hark, hark! I hear; { Bow-wow.
The strain of strutting {
chanticleer. { Cock-a-diddle-dow.

_Ferd._ Where should this music be? i' the air, or th' earth?
It sounds no more: and, sure, it waits upon
Some god o' the island. Sitting on a bank,
Weeping again the King my father's wreck,
This music crept by me upon the waters,
Allaying both their fury and my passion[389-100]
With its sweet air: thence I have follow'd it,
Or it hath drawn me rather. But 'tis gone.
No, it begins again.

_ARIEL sings._

Full fathom five thy father lies;
Of his bones are coral made;
Those are pearls that were his eyes:
Nothing of him that doth fade
But doth suffer a sea-change[389-101]
Into something rich and strange.
Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell:

_Burden._ Ding-Dong.

Hark! now I hear them,--Ding-Dong, bell.

_Ferd._ The ditty does remember my drown'd father.
This is no mortal business, nor no sound
That the earth owes.[389-102] I hear it now above me.

_Pros._ The fringèd curtains of thine eyes advance,[389-103]
And say what thou see'st yond.

_Mira._ What is't? A spirit?
Lord, how it looks about! Believe me, sir,
It carries a brave[389-104] form. But 'tis a spirit.

_Pros._ No, wench: it eats and sleeps, and hath such senses
As we have, such. This gallant which thou see'st
Was in the wreck; and, but he's something stain'd
With grief, that's beauty's canker,[390-105] thou mightst call him
A goodly person: he hath lost his fellows,
And strays about to find 'em.

_Mira._ I might call him
A thing divine; for nothing natural
I ever saw so noble.[390-106]

_Pros._ [_Aside._] It goes on,[390-107] I see,
As my soul prompts it.--Spirit, fine spirit! I'll free thee
Within two days for this.

_Ferd._ Most sure, the goddess
On whom these airs attend!--Vouchsafe my prayer
May know if you remain upon this island;
And that you will some good instruction give
How I may bear me here: my prime request,
Which I do last pronounce, is,--O you wonder!--
If you be maid or no?[390-108]

_Mira._ No wonder,[390-109] sir;
But certainly a maid.

_Ferd._ My language![390-110] Heavens!--
I am the best of them that speak this speech,
Were I but where 'tis spoken.

_Pros._ How! the best?
What wert thou, if the King of Naples heard thee?

_Ferd._ A single thing,[391-111] as I am now, that wonders
To hear thee speak of Naples. He does hear me;
And that he does I weep: myself am Naples;[391-112]
Who with mine eyes, ne'er since at ebb, beheld
The King my father wreck'd.

_Mira._ Alack, for mercy!

_Ferd._ Yes, faith, and all his lords; the Duke of Milan
And his brave son[391-113] being twain.

_Pros._ [_Aside._] The Duke of Milan
And his more braver daughter could control thee,[391-114]
If now t'were fit to do't. At the first sight
They have changed eyes.--Delicate Ariel,
I'll set thee free for this![391-115]--A word, good sir;
I fear you've done yourself some wrong:[391-116] 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
To be inclined my way!

_Ferd._ O, if a virgin,
And your affection not gone forth, I'll make you
The Queen of Naples.

_Pros._ Soft, sir! one word more.--
[_Aside._] They're both in either's powers: but this swift business
I must uneasy make, lest too light winning
Make the prize light.[392-117]--One word more; I charge thee
That thou attend me: Thou dost here usurp
The name thou owest not; and hast put thyself
Upon this island as a spy, to win it
From me, the lord on't.

_Ferd._ No, as I'm a man.

_Mira._ There's nothing ill can dwell in such a temple:
If the ill spirit have so fair a house,
Good things will strive to dwell with't.

_Pros._ [_To FERD._] Follow me--
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 shall be
The fresh-brook muscles, wither'd roots, and husks
Wherein the acorn cradled: follow.

_Ferd._ No;
I will resist such entertainment, till
Mine enemy has more power.
[_He draws, and is charmed from moving._

_Mira._ O dear father,
Make not too rash a trial of him, for
He's gentle, and not fearful.[392-118]

_Pros._ What, I say,
My fool my tutor!--Put thy sword up, traitor;
Who makest a show, but darest not strike, thy conscience
Is so possess'd with guilt: come from thy ward;[393-119]
For I can here disarm thee with this stick,
And make thy weapon drop.

_Mira._ Beseech you, father!--

_Pros._ Hence! hang not on my garments.

_Mira._ Sir, have pity;
I'll be his surety.

_Pros._ 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!
To th' most of men this is a Caliban,
And they to him are angels.

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

_Pros._ [_To FERD._] Come on; obey:
Thy nerves[393-120] are in their infancy again,
And have no vigour in them.

_Ferd._ 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, and this man's threats
To whom I am subdued, are 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.

_Pros._ [_Aside._] It works.--[_To FERD._] Come on.--
Thou hast done well, fine Ariel!--Follow me.--
[_To ARIEL._] Hark, what thou else shalt do me.

_Mira._ Be of comfort;
My father's of a better nature, sir,
Than he appears by speech: this is unwonted
Which now came from him.

_Pros._ [_To ARIEL._] Thou shalt be as free
As mountain winds: but then exactly do
All points of my command.

_Ari._ To th' syllable.

_Pros._ Come, follow.--Speak not for him. [_Exeunt._