Imatges de pàgina
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The honour of my child.

Cal. Oh ho, oh ho! - I wou'd it had been done!

Thou didst prevent me, I had peopled elfe
This ifle with Calibans.

Pro. Abhorred flave;

Which any print of goodness wilt not take,
Being capable of all ill! I pity'd thee,

Took pains to make thee speak, taught thee each hour
One thing or other. When thou couldst not, favage,
Shew 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
(Tho' thou didit learn) had that in't, which good natures
Could not abide to be with; therefore wast thou
Deservedly confin'd into this rock,

Who hadft deferv'd more than a prifon

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-feed, hence !

Fetch us in fewel, and be quick (thou wert best)
To anfwer 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 beafts shall tremble at thy din.

Cal. No, 'pray thee.

I must obey; his art is of fuch pow'r,
It would controul my dam's good Setebos,
And make a vassal of him.

Pro. So, flave, hence!

SCENE V.

[Exit Caliban.

Enter Ferdinand; and Ariel invisible, playing, and

finging.

ARIEL's SONG.

Come unto thefe yellow fands,

And then take hands :

Gurt fied when you have, and kift ;
(The wild waves whift);

1

Foot

Foot it featly here and there,

And, Sweet sprites, the burthen bear.

Burthen, dispersedly.

Hark, hark, bough waugh: the watch-dogs bark,

baugh-waugh,

Ari. Hark, bark, I hear

The strain of strutting chanticlere

Cry, Gock-a-doodle-do.

Fer. Where should this mufic be; i'th'air, or earth? It founds no more: and, fure, it waits upon Some god o'th'island. Sitting on a bank, Weeping against the King my father's wreck, This music crept by me upon the waters; Allaying both their fury and my paffion, With its fweet air; thence I have follow'd it, Or it hath drawn me rather-but 'tis gone. No, it begins again,

ARIEL's SONG,

Full fathom five thy father lies,
Of his bones are coral made :
Those are pearls, that were his eyes s
Nothing of him that doth fade,
But doth fuffer a fea change,
Into fomething rich and strange.
Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell.
Hark, now I hear them, ding-dong, bell.

[Burthen: ding-dong.

Fer. The ditty does remember my drown'd father;

This is no mortal business, nor no found
That the earth owns: I hear it now above me.

[blocks in formation]

Pro. The fringed curtains of thine eyes advance,

And fay, 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 fpirit.

Pro. No, wench; it eats, and fleeps, and hath fuch

fenfes

As we have, such. This gallant, which thou seeft,

Was

Was in the wreck: and, but he's something stain'd With grief, (that's beauty's canker), thou might'it call

him

A goodly perfon. He hath loft his fellows,

And ftrays about to find 'em.

Mira. I might call him

A thing divine; for nothing natural

I ever faw fo noble.

Pro. It goes on, I fee,

[Afide.

As my foul prompts it. Spirit, fine spirit, I'll free thee

Within two days for this.

Fer. Most fure, the goddess

On whom these ayres attend! vouchsafe, my pray'r
May know, if you remain upon this ifland;
And that you will fome good instruction give,
How I may bear me here: my prime request
(Which I do last pronounce) is, O you wonder!
If you be made or no?

Mira. No wonder, Sir,

But certainly a maid.

Fer. My language! heav'ns!

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 fingle 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 fince at ebb) beheld
The King my father wreck'd.

Mira. Alack, for mercy!

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

And his brave fon, being twain.
Pro. The Duke of Milan,

And his more braver daughter, could controul thee,
If now 'twere fit to do't. At the first fight,
They have change'd eyes: (delicate Ariel,
I'll fet thee free for this). A word, good Sir.
I fear you've done yourself fome wrong: a word-
Mira. Why fpeaks my father so ungently? this

Is the third man that I e'er faw; 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.

Pro. Soft, Sir: one word more.

They're both in either's power: but this swift business I must uneasy make, lest too light winning

Make the prize light. Sir, one word more; I charge

thee,

That thou attend me thou doft here ufurp
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'm 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 fstrive to dwell with't.

Pro. 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 muffels, wither'd roots, and husks

Wherein the acorn cradled. Follow.

Fer. No;

I will refist such entertainment, 'till

Mine enemy has more power.

[He draws, and is charm'd from moving.

Mira. O dear father,

Make not too rash a trial of him; for

He's gentle, and not fearful.

Pro. What, I fay,

My foot my tutor? put thy fword up, traitor,

Who mak'st a shew, but dar'st not strike; thy confcience

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

For I can here disarm you with this stick,

And make thy weapon drop.

Mira. Beseech you, father.

Pro. Hence: hang not on my garment!

Mira Sir, have pity;

I'll be his furety.

Pro. Silence: one word more

Shall make me chide thee, if not hate thee. What, VOL. I.

C

An

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 fee a goodlier man.

Pro. 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 wreck of all my friends, and this man's threats,
To whom I am fubdu'd, were but light to me,
Might I but through my prifon once a day
Behold this maid: all corners else o' th' earth
Let liberty make use of; space enough
Have I in fuch a prifon.

Pro. It works: come on.

(Thou hast done well, fine Ariel): follow me.

Hark, what thou else shalt do me.

Mira. Be of comfort,

My father's of a better nature, Sir,

[To Ariel.

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 th' fyllable.

Pro. Come, follow: speak not for him.

ACTII.

SCENE

[Exeunt.

I.

Another part of the island.

Enter Alonso, Sebastian, Anthonio, Gonzalo, Adrian,

Gon.

B

Francisco, and others.

Eseech you, Sir, be merry: you have cause (So have we all) of joy! for our escape

Is much beyond our loss; our stint of woe

Is

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