The Island: before the Cell of PROSPERO. |
| |
Enter PROSPERO and MIRANDA. |
| Miro. 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, |
| Dashes the fire out. O! I have suffer'd |
| With those that I saw suffer: a brave 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 |
| It should the good ship so have swallow'd and |
| The fraughting souls within her. |
| Pro. Be collected: |
| No more amazement. Tell your piteous heart |
| There's no harm done. |
| Mira. O, woe the day! |
| Pro. 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 |
| Than Prospero, master of a full poor cell, |
| And thy no greater father. |
| Mira. More to know |
| Did never meddle with my thoughts. |
| Pro. 'Tis time |
| I should inform thee further. Lend thy hand, |
| And pluck my magic garment from me.—So: [Lays down his mantle. |
| Lie there, my art.—Wipe thou thine eyes; have comfort. |
| The direful spectacle of the wrack, which touch'd |
| The very virtue of compassion in thee, |
| I have with such provision in mine art |
| So safely order'd, that there is no soul— |
| 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, |
| Concluding, 'Stay; not yet.' |
| Pro. 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 three years old. |
| Mira. Certainly, sir, I can. |
| Pro. By what? by any other house or person? |
| Of anything 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? |
| Pro. Thou hadst, and more, Miranda. But how is it |
| That this lives in thy mind? What seest thou else |
| In the dark backward and abysm of time? |
| If thou remember'st aught ere thou cam'st here, |
| How thou cam'st here, thou may'st. |
| Mira. But that I do not. |
| Pro. Twelve year since, Miranda, twelve year since, |
| Thy father was the Duke of Milan and |
| A prince of power. |
| Mira. Sir, are not you my father? |
| Pro. Thy mother was a piece of virtue, and |
| She said thou wast my daughter; and thy father |
| Was Duke of Milan, and his only heir |
| A princess,—no worse issued. |
| Mira. O, the heavens! |
| What foul play had we that we came from thence? |
| Or blessed was't we did? |
| Pro. Both, both, my girl: |
| By foul play, as thou say'st, were we heav'd thence; |
| But blessedly holp hither. |
| Mira. O! my heart bleeds |
| To think o' the teen that I have turn'd you to, |
| Which is from my remembrance. Please you, further. |
| Pro. 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 lov'd, and to him put |
| The manage of my state; as at that time, |
| Through all the signiories it was the first, |
| And Prospero the prime 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. |
| Pro. Being once perfected how to grant suits, |
| How to deny them, who t'advance, and who |
| To trash for over-topping; new created |
| The creatures that were mine, I say, or chang'd 'em, |
| Or else new form'd 'em: having both the key |
| Of officer and office, set all hearts i' the state |
| To what tune pleas'd his ear; that now he was |
| The ivy which had hid my princely trunk, |
| And suck'd my verdure out on't.—Thou attend'st not. |
| Mira. O, good sir! I do. |
| Pro. I pray thee, mark me. |
| I, thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicated |
| To closeness and the bettering of my mind |
| With that, which, but by being so retir'd, |
| O'erpriz'd all popular rate, in my false brother |
| Awak'd 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 bound. He being thus lorded, |
| Not only with what my revenue yielded, |
| But what my power might else exact,—like one, |
| Who having, into truth, by telling of it, |
| Made such a sinner of his memory, |
| To credit his own lie,—he did believe |
| He was indeed the duke; out o' the substitution, |
| And executing th' outward face of royalty, |
| With all prerogative:—Hence his ambition growing,— |
| Dost thou hear? |
| Mira. Your tale, sir, would cure deafness. |
| Pro. To have no screen between this part he play'd |
| And him he play'd it for, he needs will be |
| Absolute Milan. Me, poor man,—my library |
| Was dukedom large enough: of temporal royalties |
| He thinks me now incapable; confederates,— |
| So dry he was for sway,—wi' the 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!— |
| To most ignoble stooping. |
| Mira. O the heavens! |
| Pro. Mark his condition and the event; then tell me |
| If this might be a brother. |
| Mira. I should sin |
| To think but nobly of my grandmother: |
| Good wombs have borne bad sons. |
| Pro. Now the condition. |
| This King of Naples, being an enemy |
| To me inveterate, hearkens my brother's suit; |
| Which was, that he, in lieu o' the premises |
| Of homage and I know not how much tribute, |
| Should presently 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 the purpose did Antonio open |
| The gates of Milan; and, i' the dead of darkness, |
| The ministers for the purpose hurried thence |
| Me and thy crying self. |
| Mira. Alack, for pity! |
| I, not rememb'ring how I cried out then, |
| Will cry it o'er again: it is a hint, |
| That wrings mine eyes to 't. |
| Pro. Hear a little further, |
| And then I'll bring thee to the present business |
| Which now's upon us; without the which this story |
| Were most impertinent. |
| Mira. Wherefore did they not |
| That hour destroy us? |
| Pro. Well demanded, wench: |
| My tale provokes that question. Dear, they durst not, |
| So dear the love my people bore me, nor set |
| A mark so bloody on the business; but |
| With colours fairer painted their foul ends. |
| In few, they hurried us aboard a bark, |
| Bore us some leagues to sea; where they prepar'd |
| A rotten carcass of a boat, not rigg'd, |
| Nor tackle, sail, nor mast; the very rats |
| Instinctively have quit it: there they hoist us, |
| To cry to the sea that roar'd to us; to sigh |
| To the winds whose pity, sighing back again, |
| Did us but loving wrong. |
| Mira. Alack! what trouble |
| Was I then to you! |
| Pro. O, a cherubin |
| Thou wast, that did preserve me! Thou didst smile, |
| Infused with a fortitude from heaven, |
| When I have deck'd the sea with drops full salt, |
| Under my burden groan'd; which rais'd in me |
| An undergoing stomach, to bear up |
| Against what should ensue. |
| Mira. How came we ashore? |
| Pro. By Providence divine. |
| Some food we had and some fresh water that |
| A noble Neapolitan, Gonzalo, |
| Out of his charity,—who being then appointed |
| Master of this design,—did give us; with |
| Rich garments, linens, stuffs, and necessaries, |
| Which since have steaded much; so, of his gentleness, |
| Knowing I lov'd 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! |
| Pro. Now I arise:— [Resumes his mantle. |
| Sit still, and hear the last of our sea-sorrow. |
| Here in this island we arriv'd; and here |
| Have I, thy schoolmaster, made thee more profit |
| Than other princes 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? |
| Pro. 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 doth depend upon |
| A most auspicious star, whose influence |
| If now I court not but omit, my fortunes |
| Will ever after droop. Here cease more questions; |
| Thou art inclin'd to sleep; 'tis a good dulness, |
| And give it way;—I know thou canst not choose.— [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. |
| Pro. Hast thou, spirit, |
| Perform'd to point the tempest that I bade thee? |
| Ari. To every article. |
| I boarded the king's ship; now on the beak, |
| Now in the waist, the deck, in every cabin, |
| I flam'd amazement: sometime I'd divide |
| And burn in many places; on the topmast, |
| The yards, and boresprit, would I flame distinctly, |
| Then meet, and join: Jove's lightnings, the precursors |
| O' the dreadful thunder-claps, more momentary |
| And sight-outrunning were not: the fire and cracks |
| Of sulphurous roaring the most mighty Neptune |
| Seem to besiege and make his bold waves tremble, |
| Yea, his dread trident shake. |
| Pro. My brave spirit! |
| Who was so firm, so constant, that this coil |
| Would not infect his reason? |
| Ari. Not a soul |
| But felt a fever of the mad 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,—then like reeds, not hair,— |
| Was the first man that leap'd; cried, 'Hell is empty, |
| And all the devils are here.' |
| Pro. Why, that's my spirit! |
| But was not this nigh shore? |
| Ari. Close by, my master. |
| Pro. But are they, Ariel, safe? |
| Ari. Not a hair perish'd; |
| On their sustaining garments not a blemish, |
| But fresher than before: and, as thou bad'st me, |
| In troops I have dispers'd 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 of the isle and sitting, |
| His arms in this sad knot. |
| Pro. Of the king's ship |
| The mariners, say how thou hast dispos'd, |
| And all the rest o' the fleet. |
| 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; there she's hid: |
| The mariners all under hatches stow'd; |
| Who, with a charm join'd to their suffer'd labour, |
| I have left asleep: and for the rest o' the fleet |
| Which I dispers'd, they all have met again, |
| And are upon the Mediterranean flote, |
| Bound sadly home for Naples, |
| Supposing that they saw the king's ship wrack'd, |
| And his great person perish. |
| Pro. Ariel, thy charge |
| Exactly is perform'd: but there's more work: |
| What is the time o' th' day? |
| Ari.Past the mid season. |
| Pro. At least two glasses. 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 thee what thou hast promis'd |
| Which is not yet perform'd me. |
| Pro. How now! moody? |
| What is 't thou canst demand? |
| Ari. My liberty. |
| Pro. Before the time be out? no more! |
| Ari. I prithee |
| Remember, I have done thee worthy service; |
| Told thee no lies, made no mistakings, serv'd |
| Without or grudge or grumblings: thou didst promise |
| To bate me a full year. |
| Pro. Dost thou forget |
| From what a torment I did free thee? |
| Ari. No. |
| Pro. 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' th' earth |
| When it is bak'd with frost. |
| Ari. I do not, sir. |
| Pro. Thou liest, malignant thing! Hast thou forgot |
| The foul witch Sycorax, who with age and envy |
| Was grown into a hoop? hast thou forgot her? |
| Ari. No, sir. |
| Pro. Thou hast. Where was she born? speak; tell me. |
| Ari. Sir, in Argier. |
| Pro. O! was she so? I must, |
| Once in a month, recount what thou hast been, |
| Which thou forget'st. This damn'd witch, Sycorax, |
| For mischiefs manifold and sorceries terrible |
| To enter human hearing, from Argier, |
| Thou know'st, was banish'd: for one thing she did |
| They would not take her life. Is not this true? |
| Ari. Ay, sir. |
| Pro. This blue-ey'd hag was hither brought with child |
| And here was left by the sailors. Thou, my slave, |
| As thou report'st thyself, wast then her servant: |
| And, for thou wast a spirit too delicate |
| To act her earthy and abhorr'd commands, |
| Refusing her grand hests, she did confine thee, |
| By help of her more potent ministers, |
| And in her most unmitigable rage, |
| Into 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, |
| A freckled whelp hag-born,—not honour'd with |
| A human shape. |
| Ari. Yes; Caliban her son. |
| Pro. 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 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 spiriting gently. |
| Pro. 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? |
| Pro. Go make thyself like a nymph of the sea: be subject |
| To no sight but thine and mine; invisible |
| To every eyeball else. Go, take this shape, |
| And hither come in't: go, 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. |
| 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, |
| We cannot miss him: 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. |
| Pro. Come forth, I say; there's other business for thee: |
| Come, thou tortoise! when? |
| |
Re-enter ARIEL, like a water-nymph. |
| Fine apparition! My quaint Ariel, |
| Hark in thine ear. |
| Ari. My lord, it shall be done. [Exit. |
| Pro. Thou poisonous slave, got by the devil himself |
| Upon thy wicked dam, come forth! |
| |
Enter CALIBAN. |
| Cal. As wicked 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! |
| Pro. For this, be sure, to-night thou shalt have cramps, |
| Side-stitches that shall pen thy breath up; urchins |
| Shall forth at vast 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 them. |
| Cal. I must eat my dinner. |
| This island's mine, by Sycorax my mother, |
| Which thou tak'st from me. When thou camest first, |
| Thou strok'dst me, and mad'st much of me; wouldst 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 lov'd thee |
| And show'd thee all the qualities o' th' isle, |
| The fresh springs, brine-pits, barren place, and fertile. |
| Cursed be I that 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 me |
| In this hard rock, whiles you do keep from me |
| The rest o' th' island. |
| Pro. Thou most lying slave, |
| Whom stripes may move, not kindness! I have us'd thee, |
| Filth as thou art, with human care; and lodg'd thee |
| In mine own cell, till thou didst seek to violate |
| The honour of my child. |
| Cal. Oh ho! Oh ho!—would it had been done! |
| Thou didst prevent me; I had peopled else |
| This isle with Calibans. |
| Pro. 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 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 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 you, |
| For learning me your language! |
| Pro. Hag-seed, hence! |
| Fetch us in fuel; and be quick, thou 'rt 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!— |
| [Aside.] I must obey: his art is of such power, |
| It would control my dam's god, Setebos, |
| And make a vassal of him. |
| Pro. 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,— |
| Foot it featly here and there; |
| And, sweet sprites, the burden bear. |
| Hark, hark! [Burden: Bow, wow, dispersedly. |
| The watch-dogs bark: [Burden: Bow, wow, dispersedly. |
| 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 on a bank, |
| Weeping again the king my father's wrack, |
| 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: 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. |
| 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, |
| It carries a brave form:—but 'tis a spirit. |
| Pro. No, wench; it eats and sleeps, and hath such senses |
| As we have, such; this gallant which thou see'st, |
| Was in the wrack; and, but he's something stain'd |
| With grief,—that's beauty's canker,—thou might'st 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. |
| Pro. [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? |
| Mira. No wonder, sir; |
| But certainly a maid. |
| Fer. My language! heavens!— |
| I am the best of them that speak this speech, |
| Were I but where 'tis spoken. |
| Pro. How! the best? |
| 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 et ebb,—beheld |
| The king, my father wrack'd. |
| Mira. Alack, for mercy! |
| Fer. Yes, faith, and all his lords; the Duke of Milan, |
| And his brave son being twain. |
| Pro. [Aside.] The Duke of Milan, |
| And his more braver daughter could control 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!—[To FER.] A word, good sir; |
| I fear you have done yourself some wrong: a word. |
| Mira. [Aside.] 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. [Aside.] O! if a virgin, |
| And your affection not gone forth, I'll make you |
| The Queen of Naples. |
| Pro. Soft, sir: one word more— |
| [Aside.] They are both in either's powers: but this swift business |
| I must uneasy make, lest too light winning |
| Make the prize light.—[To FER.] One word more: 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. |
| 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 a house, |
| Good things will strive to dwell with't. |
| Pro. [To FER.] Follow me.— |
| [To MIRA.] Speak not you for him; he's a traitor.—[To FER.] 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. |
| Fer. 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. |
| Pro. What! I say, |
| My foot my tutor?—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. |
| 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 is 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. [ToFER.] Come on; obey: |
| 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 wrack 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' th' earth |
| Let liberty make use of; space enough |
| Have I in such a prison. |
| Pro. [Aside.] It works.—[To FER.] Come on.— |
| Thou hast done well, fine Ariel!—[To FER.] 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. |
| Pro. Thou shalt be as free |
| As mountain winds; but then exactly do |
| All points of my command. |
| Ari. To the syllable. |
| Pro. [To FER.] Come, follow.—Speak not for him. [Exeunt. |
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