Court'sied when you have and kiss'd,—

The wild waves whist,—(33)

Foot it featly here and there;

And, sweet sprites, the burden bear.(34)
Hark, hark!

[Burden, dispersedly, within. Bow, wow.] The watch-dogs bark:

[Burden, dispersedly, within. Bow, wow.]

Hark, hark! I hear

The strain of strutting chanticleer

Cry, Cock-a-diddle-dow.

Fer. Where should this music be? i' th' air or th' earth?

It sounds no more :—and, sure, it waits upon

Some god o' th' island. Sitting
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
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
Into something rich and strange.
Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell:

[Burden, within. Ding-dong.]

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

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.

Pros. The fringèd curtains of thine eye advance,
And say what thou see'st yond.

Mir.
What is't? a spirit?
Lord, how it looks about! Believe me, sir,
It carries a brave 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, thou mightst call him
A goodly person: he hath lost his fellows,

And strays about to find 'em.

Mir.

I might call him

A thing divine; for nothing natural

I ever saw so noble.

Pros. [aside]

It goes on, I see,

As my soul prompts it.-Spirit, fine spirit! I'll free thee
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;
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?

Mir.

But certainly a maid.

Fer.

No wonder, sir;

My language! heavens!—

I am the best of them that speak this speech,

Were I but where 'tis spoken.

How! the best!

Pros.
What wert thou, if the King of Naples heard thee?
Fer. A single thing, 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 ;
Who with mine eyes, ne'er since at ebb, beheld
The king my father wreck'd.

Mir.

Alack, for mercy!

Fer. Yes, faith, and all his lords; the Duke of Milan

And his brave son being twain.

Pros. [aside]

The Duke of Milan

And his more braver daughter could control(35) thee,
If now 'twere fit to do't.—At the first sight
They have chang'd eyes.-Delicate Ariel,
I'll set thee free for this!-A word, good sir;
I fear you've done yourself some wrong: a word.

Mir. 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 inclin❜d my way!

Fer.

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 busi

ness

I must uneasy make, lest too light winning

Make the prize light.-One word more ;(36) I charge thee
That thou attend me: thou dost here usurp

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.

Mir. 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.

Follow me.

[To Fer.

Pros.
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.

My fool my tutor !(37)-Put thy sword up, traitor;

Who mak'st a show, but dar'st not strike, thy conscience

Is so possess'd with guilt: come from thy ward;

For I can here disarm thee with this stick,

And make thy weapon drop.

Mir.

Beseech you, father!

Pros. Hence! hang not on my garments.

Mir.

I'll be his surety.

Pros.

Sir, have pity;

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.

Are, then, most humble; I have no ambition

(38)

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, nor this man's threats
To whom I am subdu'd, are but light to me,'
Might I but through my prison once a-day
Behold this maid: all corners else o' th' earth
Let liberty make use of; space enough
Have I in such a prison.

Pros. [aside]

It works.-Come on.

Be of comfort;

Thou hast done well, fine Ariel !—Follow me.-
Hark what thou else shalt do me.

Mir.

My father's of a better nature, sir,

Than he appears by speech: this is unwonted

Which now came from him.

Pros.

Thou shalt be as free

As mountain winds: but then exactly do

All points of my command.

To the syllable.

Ari.
Pros. 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 master(39) of some merchant, and the merchant,
Have just our theme of woe:(40) 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.

Prithee, 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 prithee, spare. (41)

Gon.

Seb. He will be talking.

Well, I have done: but yet,

Ant. Which, of he or Adrian, for a good wager, first

begins to crow ?(42)

Seb. The old cock.

Ant. The cockerel.

Seb. Done! The wager?

VOL. I.