Chapter XIV: Act IV: Scene I

_Cypress trees and a Cave._

_Enter_ PROSPERO _and_ MIRANDA.

_Prosp._ Your suit has pity in't, and has prevailed.
Within this cave he lies, and you may see him:
But yet take heed; let prudence be your guide:
You must not stay, your visit must be short.--
[_She's going._
One thing I had forgot; insinuate into his mind
A kindness to that youth, whom first you saw;
I would have friendship grow betwixt them.

_Mir._ You shall be obeyed in all things.

_Prosp._ Be earnest to unite their very souls.

_Mir._ I shall endeavour it.

_Prosp._ This may secure
Hippolito from that dark danger, which
My art forebodes; for friendship does provide
A double strength to oppose the assaults of fortune.
[_Exit_ PROSP.

_Enter_ FERDINAND.

_Ferd._ To be a prisoner where I dearly love,
Is but a double tie, a link of fortune
Joined to the chain of love; but not to see her,
And yet to be so near her, there's the hardship!--
I feel myself as on a rack, stretched out
And nigh the ground, on which I might have ease,
Yet, cannot reach it.

_Mir._ Sir!--my lord!--where are you?

_Ferd._ Is it your voice, my love? or do I dream?

_Mir._ Speak softly, it is I.

_Ferd._ O heavenly creature!
Ten times more gentle than your fathers cruel!--
How, on a sudden, all my griefs are vanished!

_Mir._ How do you bear your prison?

_Ferd._ 'Tis my palace,
While you are here, and love and silence wait
Upon our wishes; do but think we chuse it,
And 'tis what we would chuse.

_Mir._ I'm sure what I would.
But how can I be certain that you love me?
Look to't; for I will die when you are false.
I've heard my father tell of maids, who died,
And haunted their false lovers with their ghosts.

_Ferd._ Your ghost must take another form to fright me,
This shape will be too pleasing.--Do I love you?
O, heaven! O, earth! bear witness to this sound,
If I prove false!--

_Mir._ O, hold! you shall not swear,
For heaven will hate you if you prove forsworn.

_Ferd._ Did I not love, I could no more endure
This undeserved captivity, than I
Could wish to gain my freedom, with the loss
Of you.

_Mir._ I am a fool, to weep at what
I'm glad of: But I have a suit to you,
And that, sir, shall
Be now the only trial of your love.

_Ferd._ You've said enough, never to be denied,
Were it my life; for you have far o'er-bid
The price of all that human life is worth.

_Mir._ Sir, 'tis to love one for my sake, who, for
His own, deserves all the respect which you
Can ever pay him.

_Ferd._ You mean your father: Do not think his usage
Can make me hate him; when he gave you being,
He then did that, which cancelled all these wrongs.

_Mir._ I meant not him; for that was a request,
Which, if you love, I should not need to urge.

_Ferd._ Is there another whom I ought to love;
And love him for your sake?

_Mir._ Yes, such a one,
Who, for his sweetness and his goodly shape,
(If I, who am unskilled in forms, may judge)
I think can scarce be equalled: 'Tis a youth,
A stranger, too, as you are.

_Ferd._ Of such a graceful feature! and must I,
For your sake, love him?

_Mir._ Yes, sir: Do you scruple
To grant the first request I ever made?
He's wholly unacquainted with the world,
And wants your conversation. You should have
Compassion on so mere a stranger.

_Ferd._ Those need compassion whom you discommend,
Not whom you praise.

_Mir._ Come, you must love him for my sake:--
You shall!

_Ferd._ Must I for yours, and cannot for my own?
Either you do not love, or think that I don't:
But, when you bid me love him, I must hate him.

_Mir._ Have I so far offended you already,
That he offends you only for my sake?--
Yet sure you would not hate him, if you saw
Him as I've done, so full of youth and beauty.

_Ferd._ O, poison to my hopes!--
When he did visit me, and I did mention
This beauteous creature to him, he then did tell
Me, he would have her.
[_Aside._

_Mir._ Alas! what mean you?

_Ferd._ It is too plain: Like most of her frail sex,
She's false, but has not learned the art to hide it.
Nature has done her part, she loves variety:--
Why did I think that any woman could
Be innocent, because she's young? No, no!
Their nurses teach them change, when, with two nipples,
They do divide their liking.
[_Aside._

_Mir._ I fear I have offended you, and yet
I meant no harm: But, if you please to hear me,--
[_A noise within._
Hark, sir! now I am sure my father comes,
I know his steps: Dear love! retire a while;
I fear I've staid too long.

_Ferd._ Too long indeed, and yet not long enough:
Oh, jealousy! Oh, love! how you distract me!
[_Exit_ FERD.

_Mir._ He appears displeased with that young man, I know
Not why: But, 'till I find from whence his hate proceeds,
I must conceal it from my father's knowledge;
For he will think that guiltless I have caused it,
And suffer me no more to see my love.

_Enter_ PROSPERO.

_Prosp._ Now I have been indulgent to your wish;
You have seen the prisoner?

_Mir._ Yes.

_Prosp._ And he spoke to you?

_Mir._ He spoke; but he received short answers from me.

_Prosp._ How like you his converse?

_Mir._ At second sight,
A man does not appear so rare a creature.

_Prosp._ I find she loves him much, because she hides it.
Love teaches cunning even to innocence.--
[_Aside._
Well, go in.

_Mir._ Forgive me, truth! for thus disguising thee.
If I can make him think, I do not love
The stranger much, he'll let me see him oftener.
[_Exit_ MIR.

_Prosp._ Stay, stay!----I had forgot to ask her,
What she has said of young Hippolito.--
Oh, here he comes! and, with him, my Dorinda:
I'll not be seen; let their loves grow in secret.
[_Exit._

SCENE II.

_Enter_ HIPPOLITO _and_ DORINDA.

_Hip._ But why are you so sad?

_Dor._ But why are you so joyful?

_Hip._ I have within me
All, all the various music of the woods.
Since last I saw you, I have heard brave news!
I will tell you, and make you joyful for me.

_Dor._ Sir, when I saw you first, I, through my eyes,
Drew something in, I know not what it is;
But still it entertains me with such thoughts,
As make me doubtful whether joy becomes me.

_Hip._ Pray believe me,
As I'm a man, I'll tell you blessed news:
I've heard, there are more women in the world,
As fair as you are too.

_Dor._ Is this your news? You see it moves not me.

_Hip._ And I will have them all.

_Dor._ What will become of me then?

_Hip._ I'll have you too.--
But are not you acquainted with these women?

_Dor._ I never saw but one.

_Hip._ Is there but one here?--
This is a base poor world, I'll go to the other;
I've heard men have abundance of them there.--
But, pray, where's that one woman?

_Dor._ Who, my sister?

_Hip._ Is she your sister? I'm glad of that. You shall
Help me to her, and I will love you for it.
[_Offers to take her hand._

_Dor._ Away! I will not have you touch my hand.--
My father's counsel, which enjoined reservedness,
Was not in vain, I see.
[_Aside._

_Hip._ What makes you shun me?

_Dor._ You need not care, you'll have my sister's hand.

_Hip._ Why, must not he, who touches hers, touch yours?

_Dor._ You mean to love her too?

_Hip._ Do not you love her?
Then why should I not do so?

_Dor._ She's my sister;
And, therefore, I must love her: But you cannot
Love both of us.

_Hip._ I warrant you I can:--
Oh, that you had more sisters!

_Dor._ You may love her,
But then I'll not love you.

_Hip._ O, but you must;
One is enough for you, but not for me.

_Dor._ My sister told me, she had seen another;
A man like you, and she liked only him:
Therefore, if one must be enough for her,
He is that one, and then you cannot have her.

_Hip._ If she like him, she may like both of us.

_Dor._ But how if I should change, and like that man:
Would you be willing to permit that change?

_Hip._ No, for you liked me first.

_Dor._ So you did me.

_Hip._ But I would never have you see that man;
I cannot bear it.

_Dor._ I'll see neither of you.

_Hip._ Yes, me you may, for we are now acquainted:
But he's the man, of whom your father warned you;
O, he's a terrible, huge, monstrous creature!
I'm but a woman to him.

_Dor._ I will see him,
Except you'll promise not to see my sister.

_Hip._ Yes, for your sake, I needs must see your sister.

_Dor._ But she's a terrible, huge creature too!
If I were not her sister, she would eat me;
Therefore take heed.

_Hip._ I heard that she was fair,
And like you.

_Dor._ No, indeed, she's like my father,
With a great beard; 'twould fright you to look on her:
Therefore that man and she may go together,
They are fit for nobody but one another.

_Hip._ [_Looking in_.] Yonder he comes with glaring eyes; fly! fly!
Before he sees you.

_Dor._ Must we part so soon?

_Hip._ You're a lost woman if you see him.

_Dor._ I would not willingly be lost, for fear
You should not find me. I'll avoid him.
[_Exit_ DOR.

_Hip._ She fain would have deceived me, but I know
Her sister must be fair, for she's a woman;
All of a kind, that I have seen, are like
To one another: All the creatures of
The rivers and the woods are so.

_Enter_ FERDINAND.

_Ferd._ O, well encountered! you are the happy man!
You've got the hearts of both the beauteous women.

_Hip._ How, sir! pray, are you sure on't?

_Ferd._ One of them charged me to love you for her sake.

_Hip._ Then I must have her.

_Ferd._ No, not till I am dead.

_Hip._ How dead? what's that?--But whatsoe'er it be,
I long to have her.

_Ferd._ Time and my grief may make me die.

_Hip._ But, for a friend, you should make haste; I ne'er
Asked any thing of you before.

_Ferd._ I see your ignorance,
And, therefore, will instruct you in my meaning.
The woman, whom I love, saw you, and loved you;
Now, sir, if you love her, you'll cause my death.

_Hip._ Be sure I'll do it then.

_Ferd._ But I am your friend;
And I request you that you would not love her.

_Hip._ When friends request unreasonable things,
Sure they're to be denied. You say she's fair;
And I must love all who are fair: for, to tell you
A secret, sir, which I have lately found
Within myself, they're all made for me.

_Ferd._ That's but a fond conceit: You're made for one,
And one for you.

_Hip._ You cannot tell me, sir;
I know I'm made for twenty hundred women,
(I mean, if there so many be i'the world,)
So that, if I once see her, I shall love her.

_Ferd._ Then do not see her.

_Hip._ Yes, sir, I must see her:
For I would fain have my heart beat again,
Just as it did when I first saw her sister.

_Ferd._ I find I must not let you see her then.

_Hip._ How will you hinder me?

_Ferd._ By force of arms.

_Hip._ By force of arms!
My arms, perhaps, may be as strong as yours.

_Ferd._ He's still so ignorant, that I pity him,
And fain would avoid force. [_Aside_.]--Pray do not see her,
She was mine first; you have no right to her.

_Hip._ I have not yet considered what is right;
But, sir, I know my inclinations are
To love all women; and I have been taught,
That to dissemble what I think is base.
In honour, then, of truth, I must declare,
That I do love, and I will see your woman.

_Ferd._ Would you be willing I should see and love
Your woman, and endeavour to seduce her
From that affection, which she vowed to you?

_Hip._ I would not you should do it, but if she
Should love you best, I cannot hinder her.
But, sir, for fear she should, I will provide
Against the worst, and try to get your woman.

_Ferd._ But I pretend no claim at all to yours;
Besides, you are more beautiful than I,
And fitter to allure unpractised hearts:
Therefore I once more beg you will not see her.

_Hip._ I'm glad you let me know I have such beauty;
If that will get me women, they shall have it
As far as ere 'twill go: I'll never want them.

_Ferd._ Then, since you have refused this act of friendship,
Provide yourself a sword, for we must fight.

_Hip._ A sword! what's that?

_Ferd._ Why such a thing as this.

_Hip._ What should I do with it?

_Ferd._ You must stand thus,
And push against me, while I push at you,
'Till one of us fall dead.

_Hip._ This is brave sport:
But we have no swords growing in our world.

_Ferd._ What shall we do then to decide our quarrel?

_Hip._ We'll take the sword by turns, and fight with it.

_Ferd._ Strange ignorance! [_Aside_.]--You must defend your life,
And so must I. But since you have no sword,
Take this: [_Gives him his sword_.] For in a corner of my cave
I found a rusty one; perhaps 'twas his,
Who keeps me pris'ner here: That I will fit:
When next we meet, prepare yourself to fight.

_Hip._ Make haste then, this shall ne'er be yours again.
I mean to fight with all the men I meet,
And, when they're dead, their women shall be mine.

_Ferd._ I see you are unskilful: I desire not
To take your life, but, if you please, we'll fight
On these conditions; he, who first draws blood,
Or who can take the other's weapon from him,
Shall be acknowledged as the conqueror,
And both the women shall be his.

_Hip._ Agreed,
And every day I'll fight for two more with you.

_Ferd._ But win these first.

_Hip._ I'll warrant you I'll push you.
[_Exeunt severally._

SCENE III.--_The wild Island._

_Enter_ TRINCALO, CALIBAN, _and_ SYCORAX.

_Calib._ My lord, I see 'em coming yonder.

_Trinc._ Whom?

_Calib._ The starved prince, and his two thirsty subjects, that would have our liquor.

_Trinc._ If thou wert a monster of parts, I would make thee my master of ceremonies, to conduct 'em in. The devil take all dunces! thou hast lost a brave employment, by not being a linguist, and for want of behaviour.

_Syc._ My lord, shall I go meet 'em? I'll be kind to all of 'em, just as I am to thee.

_Trinc._ No, that's against the fundamental laws of my dukedom: You are in a high place, spouse, and must give good example. Here they come; we'll put on the gravity of statesmen, and be very dull, that we may be held wise.

_Enter_ STEPHANO, VENTOSO, _and_ MUSTACHO.

_Vent._ Duke Trincalo, we have considered.

_Trinc._ Peace or war?

_Must._ Peace, and the butt.

_Steph._ I come now as a private person, and promise to live peaceably under your government.

_Trinc._ You shall enjoy the benefits of peace; and the first fruits of it, amongst all civil nations, is to be drunk for joy: Caliban, skink about.

_Steph._ I long to have a rouse to her grace's health, and to the _haunse in kelder_, or rather haddock in kelder, for I guess it will be half fish. [_Aside._

_Trinc._ Subject Stephano, here's to thee; and let old quarrels be drowned in this draught. [_Drinks._

_Steph._ Great magistrate, here's thy sister's health to thee.
[_Drinks to_ CALIB.

_Syc._ He shall not drink of that immortal liquor; my lord, let him drink water.

_Trinc._ O sweetheart, you must not shame yourself to-day. Gentlemen subjects, pray bear with her good huswifery: She wants a little breeding, but she's hearty.

_Must._ Ventoso, here's to thee. Is it not better to pierce the butt, than to quarrel and pierce one another's bellies?

_Vent._ Let it come, boy.

_Trinc._ Now would I lay greatness aside, and shake my heels, if I had but music.

_Calib._ O my lord! my mother left us in her will a hundred spirits to attend us, devils of all sorts, some great roaring devils, and some little singing spirits.

_Syc._ Shall we call? And thou shalt hear them in the air.

_Trinc._ I accept the motion: Let us have our mother-in-law's legacy immediately.

CALIBAN SINGS.

_We want music, we want mirth.
Up, dam, and cleave the earth:
We have no lords that wrong us,
Send thy merry spirits among us._

_Trinc._ What a merry tyrant am I, to have my music, and pay nothing for't!

_A table rises, and four Spirits with wine and meat enter, placing it, as they dance, on the table: The dance ended, the bottles vanish, and the table sinks again._

_Vent._ The bottle's drunk.

_Must._ Then the bottle's a weak shallow fellow, if it be drunk first.

_Trinc._ Stephano, give me thy hand: thou hast been a rebel, but here's to thee: [_Drinks_.] Pr'ythee, why should we quarrel? Shall I swear two oaths? By bottle, and by butt, I love thee: In witness whereof I drink soundly.

_Steph._ Your grace shall find there's no love lost, for I will pledge you soundly.

_Trinc._ Thou hast been a false rebel, but that's all one; pledge my grace faithfully.--Caliban, go to the butt, and tell me how it sounds. [_Exit_ CALIBAN.] Peer Stephano, dost thou love me?

_Steph._ I love your grace, and all your princely family.

_Trinc._ 'Tis no matter, if thou lov'st me; hang my family: Thou art my friend, pr'ythee tell me what thou think'st of my princess:

_Steph._ I look on her, as on a very noble princess.

_Trinc._ Noble! indeed she had a witch to her mother; and the witches are of great families in Lapland: but the devil was her father; and I have heard of the Monsieur De Villes in France: but look on her beauty,--is she a fit wife for Duke Trincalo? Mark her behaviour too,--she's tippling yonder with the serving-men.

_Steph._ An't please your grace, she's somewhat homely, but that's no blemish in a princess. She is virtuous.

_Trinc._ Umph! virtuous! I am loath to disparage her; but thou art my friend,--canst thou be close?

_Steph._ As a stopt bottle, an't please your grace.

_Enter_ CALIBAN _again with a bottle_.

_Trinc._ Why then I'll tell thee,--I found her an hour ago under an elder-tree, upon a sweet bed of nettles, singing Tory Rory, and Rantum Scantum, with her own natural brother.

_Steph._ O Jew! make love in her own tribe?

_Trinc._ But 'tis no matter; to tell thee true, I married her to be a great man, and so forth: But make no words on't, for I care not who knows it, and so here's to thee again.--Give me the bottle, Caliban! did you knock the butt? How does it sound?

_Calib._ It sounds as though it had a noise within.

_Trinc._ I fear the butt begins to rattle in the throat, and is departing: give me the bottle. [_Drinks._

_Must._ A short life and a merry, I say.
[STEPH. _whispers_ SYCORAX.

_Syc._ But did he tell you so?

_Steph._ He said you were as ugly as your mother, and that he married you only to get possession of the island.

_Syc._ My mother's devils fetch him for't!

_Steph._ And your father's too. Hem! skink about his grace's health again. O if you will but cast an eye of pity upon me--

_Syc._ I will cast two eyes of pity on thee; I love thee more than haws or blackberries. I have a hoard of wildings in the moss, my brother knows not of 'em; but I'll bring thee where they are.

_Steph._ Trincalo was but my man, when time was.

_Syc._ Wert thou his god, and didst thou give him liquor?

_Steph._ I gave him brandy, and drunk sack myself: Wilt thou leave him, and thou shalt be my princess?

_Syc._ If thou canst make me glad with this liquor.

_Steph._ I'll warrant thee; we'll ride into the country where it grows.

_Syc._ How wilt thou carry me thither?

_Steph._ Upon a hackney-devil of thy mother's.

_Trinc._ What's that you will do? Ha! I hope you have not betrayed me? How does my pigsnye? [_To_ SYCORAX.

_Syc._ Begone! thou shalt not be my lord; thou say'st I'm ugly.

_Trinc._ Did you tell her so?--ha! he's a rogue, do not believe him, chuck.

_Steph._ The foul words were yours: I will not eat 'em for you.

_Trinc._ I see, if once a rebel, then ever a rebel. Did I receive thee into grace for this? I will correct thee with my royal hand. [_Strikes_ STEPH.

_Syc._ Dost thou hurt my love?
[_Flies at_ TRINC.

_Trinc._ Where are our guards? Treason! Treason!
[VENT. MUST. CALIB. _run betwixt_.

_Vent._ Who took up arms first, the prince or the people?

_Trinc._ This false traitor has corrupted the wife of my bosom. [_Whispers_ MUSTACHO _hastily_.] Mustacho, strike on my side, and thou shalt be my viceroy.

_Must._ I am against rebels. Ventoso, obey your viceroy.

_Vent._ You a viceroy?
[_They two fight off from the rest._

_Steph._ Ha! Hector monster! do you stand neuter?

_Calib._ Thou would'st drink my liquor, I will not help thee.

_Syc._ 'Twas his doing that I had such a husband, but I'll claw him.

[SYC. _and_ CALIB. _fight_, SYC. _beating him off the stage_.

_Trinc._ The whole nation is up in arms, and shall I stand idle? [TRINC. _beats off_ STEPH. _to the door. Exit_ STEPH. I'll not pursue too far, for fear the enemy will rally again, and surprise my butt in the citadel. Well, I must be rid of my Lady Trincalo, she will be in the fashion else; first, cuckold her husband, and then sue for a separation, to get alimony. [_Exit._

SCENE IV.--_The Cypress-trees and Cave._

_Enter_ FERDINAND _and_ HIPPOLITO, _with their swords drawn_.

_Ferd._ Come, sir, our cave affords no choice of place,
But the ground's firm and even: Are you ready?

_Hip._ As ready as yourself, sir.

_Ferd._ You remember
On what conditions we must fight? Who first
Receives a wound is to submit.

_Hip._ Come, come,
This loses time; now for the women, sir.
[_They fight a little_, FERDINAND _hurts him_.

_Ferd._ Sir, you are wounded.

_Hip._ No.

_Ferd._ Believe your blood.

_Hip._ I feel no hurt, no matter for my blood.

_Ferd._ Remember our conditions.

_Hip._ I will not leave, till my sword hits you too.
[HIP. _presses on_, FERD. _retires and wards_.

_Ferd._ I'm loth to kill you; you are unskilful, sir.

_Hip._ You beat aside my sword, but let it come
As near as yours, and you shall see my skill.

_Ferd._ You faint for loss of blood, I see you stagger;
Pray, sir, retire.

_Hip._ No! I will ne'er go back.--
Methinks the cave turns round, I cannot find--

_Ferd._ Your eyes begin to dazzle.

_Hip._ Why do you swim so, and dance about me?
Stand but still till I have made one thrust.
[HIP. _thrusts and falls._

_Ferd._ O help, help, help!
Unhappy man! what have I done?

_Hip._ I'm going to a cold sleep, but when I wake,
I'll fight again. Pray stay for me.
[_Swoons._

_Ferd._ He's gone!
He's gone! O stay, sweet, lovely youth! Help! help!

_Enter_ PROSPERO.

_Prosp._ What dismal noise is that?

_Ferd._ O see, sir, see,
What mischief my unhappy hand has wrought!

_Prosp._ Alas! how much in vain doth feeble art
Endeavour to resist the will of heaven?
[_Rubs_ HIP.
He's gone for ever; O thou cruel son
Of an inhuman father! all my designs
Are ruined and unravelled by this blow.
No pleasure now is left me but revenge.

_Ferd._ Sir, if you knew my innocence--

_Prosp._ Peace, peace!
Can thy excuses give me back his life?
What, Ariel? sluggish spirit, where art thou?

_Enter_ ARIEL.

_Ariel._ Here, at thy beck, my lord.

_Prosp._ Ay, now thou comest,
When fate is past, and not to be recalled.
Look there, and glut the malice of thy nature;
For, as thou art thyself, thou canst not but
Be glad to see young virtue nipt i' the blossom.

_Ariel._ My lord, the Being, high above, can witness,
I am not glad; we airy spirits are not of
A temper so malicious as the earthy,
But of a nature more approaching good.
For which we meet in swarms, and often combat
Betwixt the confines of the air and earth.

_Prosp._ Why didst thou not prevent, at least foretel,
This fatal action then?

_Ariel._ Pardon, great sir,
I meant to do it, but I was forbidden
By the ill genius of Hippolito,
Who came and threatened me, if I disclosed it,
To bind me in the bottom of the sea,
Far from the lightsome regions of the air,
(My native fields) above a hundred years.

_Prosp._ I'll chain thee in the north for thy neglect,
Within the burning bowels of Mount Hecla;
I'll singe thy airy wings with sulph'rous flames,
And choke thy tender nostrils with blue smoke;
At ev'ry hickup of the belching mountain,
Thou shalt be lifted up to taste fresh air,
And then fall down again.

_Ariel._ Pardon, dread lord.

_Prosp._ No more of pardon than just heaven intends thee,
Shalt thou e'er find from me: Hence! fly with speed,
Unbind the charms which hold this murderer's father,
And bring him, with my brother, straight before me.

_Ariel._ Mercy, my potent lord! and I'll outfly
Thy thought.
[_Exit_ ARIEL.

_Ferd._ O heavens! what words are these I heard,
Yet cannot see who spoke 'em? Sure the woman
Whom I loved was like this, some airy vision.

_Prosp._ No, murderer! she's, like thee, of mortal mould,
But much too pure to mix with thy black crimes;
Yet she has faults, and must be punished for them.
Miranda and Dorinda! where are ye?
The will of heaven's accomplished: I have now
No more to fear, and nothing left to hope;
Now you may enter.

_Enter_ MIRANDA _and_ DORINDA.

_Mir._ My love! is it permitted me to see
You once again?

_Prosp._ You come to look your last;
I will for ever take him from your eyes.
But, on my blessing, speak not, nor approach him.

_Dor._ Pray, father, is not this my sister's man?
He has a noble form; but yet he's not
So excellent as my Hippolito.

_Prosp._ Alas, poor girl! thou hast no man: Look yonder;
There's all of him that's left.

_Dor._ Why, was there ever any more of him?
He lies asleep, sir; shall I waken him?
[_She kneels by_ HIPPOLITO, _and jogs him_.

_Ferd._ Alas! he's never to be waked again.

_Dor._ My love, my love! wilt thou not speak to me?
I fear you have displeased him, sir, and now
He will not answer me; he's dumb and cold too;
But I'll run straight, and make a fire to warm him.
[_Exit_ DORINDA, _running_.

_Enter_ ALONZO, GONZALO, ANTONIO; _and_ ARIEL _invisible_.

_Alon._ Never were beasts so hunted into toils,
As we have been pursued by dreadful shapes.--
But is not that my son? O Ferdinand!
If thou art not a ghost, let me embrace thee.

_Ferd._ My father! O sinister happiness!
Is it decreed I should recover you
Alive, just in that fatal hour, when this
Brave youth is lost in death, and by my hand?

_Ant._ Heaven! what new wonder's this?

_Gonz._ This isle is full of nothing else.

_Prosp._ You stare upon me, as you ne'er had seen me;
Have fifteen years so lost me to your knowledge,
That you retain no memory of Prospero?

_Gonz._ The good old duke of Milan!

_Prosp._ I wonder less,
That thou, Antonio, knowest me not, because
Thou didst long since forget I was thy brother
Else I had ne'er been here.

_Ant._ Shame choaks my words.

_Alonz._ And wonder mine.

_Prosp._ For you, usurping prince,
[_To_ ALONZ.
Know, by my art you were shipwrecked on this isle,
Where, after I a while had punished you,
My vengeance would have ended; I designed
To match that son of yours with this my daughter.

_Alonz._ Pursue it still, I am most willing to it.

_Prosp._ So am not I. No marriages can prosper,
Which are with murderers made; look on that corpse.
This, whilst he lived, was young Hippolito;
That infant duke of Mantua, sir, whom you
Exposed with me; and here I bred him up,
Till that blood-thirsty man, that Ferdinand----
But why do I exclaim on him, when justice
Calls to unsheath her sword against his guilt?

_Alonz._ What do you mean?

_Prosp._ To execute heaven's laws.
Here I am placed by heaven, here I am prince,
Though you have dispossessed me of my Milan.
Blood calls for blood; your Ferdinand shall die,
And I, in bitterness, have sent for you,
To have the sudden joy of seeing him alive,
And then the greater grief to see him die.

_Alonz._ And think'st thou I, or these, will tamely stand,
To view the execution?
[_Lays hand upon his sword._

_Ferd._ Hold, dear father!
I cannot suffer you to attempt against
His life, who gave her being, whom I love.

_Prosp._ Nay, then appear my guards--I thought no more
To use their aid; (I'm cursed because I used it.)
[_He stamps, and many Spirits appear._
But they are now the ministers of heaven,
Whilst I revenge this murder.

_Alonz._ Have I for this
Found thee, my son, so soon again to lose thee?
Antonio, Gonzalo, speak for pity.

_Ferd._ Adieu, my fairest mistress.
[_To_ MIR.

_Mir._ Now I can hold no longer; I must speak,
Though I am loth to disobey you, sir:
Be not so cruel to the man I love,
Or be so kind to let me suffer with him.

_Ferd._ Recall that prayer, or I shall wish to live,
Though death be all the 'mends that I can make.

_Prosp._ This night I will allow you, Ferdinand,
To fit you for your death; that cave's your prison.

_Alonz._ Ah, Prospero! hear me speak. You are a father:--
Look on my age, and look upon his youth.

_Prosp._ No more! all you can say is urged in vain,
I have no room for pity left within me.
Do you refuse? help, Ariel, with your fellows,
To drive them in; Alonzo and his son
Bestow in yonder cave, and here Gonzalo
Shall with Antonio lodge.
[_Spirits drive them in, as they are appointed._

_Enter_ DORINDA.

_Dor._ Sir, I have made a fire; shall he be warmed?

_Prosp._ He's dead, and vital warmth will ne'er return.

_Dor._ Dead, sir! what's that?

_Prosp._ His soul has left his body.

_Dor._ When will it come again?

_Prosp._ O never, never!
He must be laid in earth, and there consume.

_Dor._ He shall not lie in earth; you do not know
How well he loves me: Indeed he'll come again.
He told me he would go a little while,
But promised me he would not tarry long.

_Prosp._ He's murdered by the man who loved your sister.
Now both of you may see what 'tis to break
A father's precept; you would needs see man,
And by that sight are made for ever wretched;
Hippolito is dead, and Ferdinand
Must die for murdering him.

_Mir._ Have you no pity?

_Prosp._ Your disobedience has so much incensed me,
That I this night can leave no blessing with you.
Help to convey the body to my couch,
Then leave me to mourn over it alone.
[_They bear off the body of_ HIP.

_Enter_ MIRANDA _and_ DORINDA _again_. ARIEL _behind them_.

_Ariel._ I've been so chid for my neglect by Prospero,
That I must now watch all, and be unseen.

_Mir._ Sister, I say again, 'twas long of you,
That all this mischief happened.

_Dor._ Blame not me
For your own fault; your curiosity
Brought me to see the man.

_Mir._ You safely might
Have seen him, and retired, but you would needs
Go near him, and converse; you may remember
My father called me thence, and I called you.

_Dor._ That was your envy, sister, not your love;
You called me thence, because you could not be
Alone with him yourself; but I am sure
My man had never gone to heaven so soon,
But that yours made him go.
[_Crying._

_Mir._ Sister, I could not wish that either of them
Should go to heaven without us; but it was
His fortune, and you must be satisfied.

_Dor._ I'll not be satisfied: My father says
He'll make your man as cold as mine is now;
And when he is made cold, my father will
Not let you strive to make him warm again.

_Mir._ In spite of you, mine never shall be cold.

_Dor._ I'm sure 'twas he that made me miserable,
And I will be revenged. Perhaps you think
'Tis nothing to lose a man.

_Mir._ Yes, but there is
Some difference betwixt my Ferdinand,
And your Hippolito.

_Dor._ Ay, there's your judgment:
Your's is the oldest man I ever saw,
Except it were my father.

_Mir._ Sister, no more;
It is not comely in a daughter, when
She says her father's old.

_Dor._ But why do I
Stay here, whilst my cold love perhaps may want me?
I'll pray my father to make yours cold too.

_Mir._ Sister, I'll never sleep with you again.

_Dor._ I'll never more meet in a bed with you,
But lodge on the bare ground, and watch my love.

_Mir._ And at the entrance of that cave I'll lie,
And echo to each blast of wind a sigh.
[_Exeunt severally, looking discontentedly on one another._

_Ariel._ Harsh discord reigns throughout this fatal isle,
At which good angels mourn, ill spirits smile.
Old Prospero, by his daughters robbed of rest,
Has in displeasure left them both unblest.
Unkindly they abjure each other's bed,
To save the living, and revenge the dead.
Alonzo, and his son, are prisoners made,
And good Gonzalo does their crimes upbraid.
Antonio and Gonzalo disagree,
And would, though in one cave, at distance be.
The seamen all that cursed wine have spent,
Which still renewed their thirst of government;
And wanting subjects for the food of power,
Each would, to rule alone, the rest devour.
The monsters, Sycorax and Caliban,
More monstrous grow by passions learned from man.
Even I, not framed of warring elements,
Partake and suffer in these discontents.
Why should a mortal, by enchantments, hold
In chains a spirit of etherial mould?
Accursed magic we ourselves have taught,
And our own power has our subjections wrought!
[_Exit._