This island's mine, by Sycorax my mother, Which thou tak'st from me. When thou camest first, Thou strok'st me, and mad'st much of me; would'st give me Water with berries in't; 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 shew'd thee all the qualities o' the isle, The fresh springs, brine pits, barren place, and fertile ; Of Sycorax, toads, beetles, bats, light on you! Which first was mine own king; and here you sty me Pro. Thou most lying slave, Whom stripes may move, not kindness: I have used thee, Filth as thou art, with human care; and lodged thee In mine own cell, till thou didst seek to violate Cal. O ho, O ho!-'would it had been done! Pro. Abhorred slave; Which any print of goodness will not take, 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 race, Though thou didst learn, had that in't which good natures Could not abide to be with; therefore wast thou 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 Pro. Hag-seed, hence! Fetch us in fuel; and be quick, thou wert best, you, To answer other business. Shrug'st thou, malice? If thou neglect'st, or dost unwillingly ⚫ Destroy, What I command, I'll rack thee with old cramps; Cal. No, 'pray thee! I must obey: his art is of such power, It would controul my dam's god Setebos, And make a vassal of him. Pro. So, slave; hence! [Aside. [Exit Caliban. Re-enter ARIEL invisible, playing and singing; FERDINAND following him. ARIEL'S SONG. Come unto these yellow sands, And then take hands: Court'sied when you have, and kiss'd, (The wild waves whist,*) Foot it featly here and there; And, sweet sprites, the burden bear. Hark, hark! Bur. Bowgh, wowgh. The watch-dogs bark: Bur. Bowgh wowgh. [dispersedly. [dispersedly. The strain of strutting chanticlere, Cry, Cock-a-doodle-doo. Fer. Where should this music be? i' the air, or the earth? It sounds no more:-and sure, it waits upon ARIEL sings. Full fathom five thy father lies: Into something rich and strange. Hark! now I hear them,---ding-dong, bell. [Burden, ding-dong. * Still, silent. Fer. The ditty does remember my drown'd father:This is no mortal business, nor no sound That the earth owes:*I hear it now above me. Pro. The fringed curtains of thine eye advance, And say, what thou seest yond'. Mira. What is't? a spirit. Lord, how it looks about! Believe me, Sir, Pro. No, wench; it eats and sleeps, and hath such senses As we have, such: this gallant which thou seest, A goodly person: he hath lost his fellows, Mira. I might call him A thing divine; for nothing natural I ever saw so noble. Pro. It goes on, [Aside. [thee As my soul prompts it:-Spirit, fine spirit, I'll free Within two days for this. Fer. Most sure, the goddess On whom these airs attend!-Vouchsafe, my prayer May know, if you remain upon this island; Mira. No, wonder, Sir; But, certainly a maid. Fer. My language! heavens! I am the best of them that speak this speech, Pro. How! the best? What wert thou, if the king of Naples heard thee? Mira. Alack, for mercy! Fer. Yes, faith, and all his lords; the duke of And his brave son, being twain. Pro. The duke of Milan, [Milan, And his more braver daughter, could controul + thee, If now 'twere fit to do't.-At the first sight [Aside. They have changed eyes:-Delicate Ariel. I'll set thee free for this!-A word, good Sir; I fear, you have done yourfelf some wrong: a word. That e'er I sigh'd for: pity move my father Fer. O, if a virgin, And your affection not gone forth, I'll make you Pro. Soft, Sir; one word more They are both in either's powers; but this swift busi ness I must uneasy make, lest too light winning [Aside. Make the prize light.-One word more; Icharge thee The name thou ow'st not; and hast put thyself From me, the lord on't. Fer. No, as I am a man. Mira. There's nothing ill can dwell in such a temple: If the ill spirit have so fair an house, Good things will strive to dwell with't. Pro. Follow me. [To Ferd. Speak not you for him; he's a traitor.-Come. Sea-water shalt thou drink, thy food shall be Fer. No; I will resist such entertainment, till Mine enemy has more power. Miru. O dear father, Make not too rash a trial of him, for He's gentle, and not fearful.* Pro. What, I say, [He draws. 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; + And make thy weapon drop. Miru. '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! To the 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. Pro. Come on; obey: Thy nerves are in their infancy again, And have no vigour in them. Fer. So they are: [To Ferd. My spirits, as in a dream, are all bound up. The wreck of all my friends, or this man's threats, Pro. It works:-Come on. Thou hast done well, fine Ariel!-Follow me. [To Ferd. and Mira. [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. Pro. Thou shalt be as free As mountain winds: but then exactly do All points of my command. Ari. To the syllable. Pro. Come, follow: speak not for him. [Exeunt. ACT II. SCENE I-Another Part of the Island. 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 |