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 seest, Was in the wreck; and but he's something stained 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 them. Mira. A thing divine; for nothing natural Pro. I might call him It goes on, I see, [Aside. As my soul prompts it:-Spirit, fine Spirit! I'll free thee Fer. Mira. But certainly a maid. No wonder, sir; My language! heavens! I am the best of them that speak this speech, Pro. Mira. Pro. [Aside. I fear, you have done yourself some wrong: a word. Is the third man that e'er I saw; the first Fer. O, if a virgin, And your affection not gone forth, I'll make you Soft, sir; one word more. They are both in either's powers: but this swift business I must uneasy make, lest too light winning [Aside. Make the prize light.-One word more; I charge 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. I'll manacle thy neck and feet together; Sea-water shalt thou drink, thy food shall be The fresh-brook muscles, withered roots, and husks Wherein the acorn cradled: Follow. Fer. I will resist such entertainment, till Mine enemy has more power. Mira. Make No; [He draws. O dear father, What, I say, not too rash a trial of him, for He's gentle, and not fearful. Pro. My foot my tutor!-Put thy sword up, traitor; Who mak'st a show, but dar'st not strike, thy conscience Is so For I possessed with guilt: come from thy ward; And make thy weapon drop. Mira. Beseech you, father! Pro. Hence; hang not on my garments. Mira. I'll be his surety. Pro. Silence: one word more Sir, have pity; Shall make me chide thee, if not hate thee. What! Thou think'st there are no more such shapes as he, VOL. I.-3 My affections To the most of men this is a Caliban, Mira. Are then most humble; I have no ambition To see a goodlier man. Pro. Thy nerves are in their Come on; obey: [To FERD. infancy again; So they are: And have no vigor in them. My spirits, as in a dream, are all bound up. It works:-Come on. Pro. Hark, what thou else shalt do me. [To FERD. and MIRA. [To ARIEL. Be of comfort; My father's of a better nature, sir, Pro. Thou shalt be as free As mountain winds: but then exactly do Ari. To the syllable. Pro. Come, follow: speak not for him. [Exeunt. ACT II. SCENE I. Another Part of the Island. Enter ALONZO, 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 wo Is common; every day, some sailor's wife, The masters of some merchant, and the merchant, Can speak like us: then wisely, good sir, weigh Alon. Pr'ythee, peace. Seb. He receives comfort like cold porridge. Seb. Look, he's winding up the watch of his wit; by and by it will strike. Gon. When every grief is entertained, that's offered, Comes to the entertainer Gon. Dolor 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 pr'ythee, spare. Gon. Well, I have: But yet Seb. He will be talking. Ant. Which of them, he, or Adrian, for a good wager, first begins to crow? Seb. The old cock. Ant. The cockerel. Seb. Done: The wager? Ant. A laughter. Seb. A match. Adr. Though this island seem to be desert, Seb. Ha, ha, ha! Ant. So you've payed. Adr. Uninhabitable, and almost inaccessible,— Seb. Yet, Adr. Yet. Ant. He could not miss it. Adr. It must needs be of subtle, tender, and delicate temperance. Ant. Temperance was a delicate wench. Seb. Ay, and a subtle; as he most learnedly delivered. Adr. The air breathes upon us here most sweetly. Seb. As if it had lungs, and rotten ones. Ant. Or, as 'twere perfumed by a fen. Gon. Here is every thing advantageous to life. Ant. True; save means to live. Seb. Of that there's none, or little. Gon. How lush and lusty the grass looks! how green! Ant. The ground, indeed, is tawny. Seb. With an eye of green in't. Ant. He misses not much. Seb. No; he doth but mistake the truth totally. Gon. But the rarity of it is (which is indeed almost beyond credit) Seb. As many vouched rarities are. Gon. That our garments, being, as they were, drenched in the sea, hold, notwithstanding, their freshness, and glosses; being rather new dyed than stained with salt water. Ant. If but one of his pockets could speak, would it not say, he lies? Seb. Ay, or very falsely pocket up his report. Gon. Methinks, our garments are now as fresh as when we put them on first in Afric, at the marriage of the king's fair daughter Claribel to the king of Tunis. Seb. Twas a sweet marriage, and we prosper well in our return. Adr. Tunis was never graced before with such a paragon to their queen. Gon. Not since widow Dido's time. Ant. Widow? a pox o' that! How came that widow in? Widow Dido! Seb. What if he had said Widower Æneas too? good lord, how you take it! Adr. Widow Dido, said you? you make me study of that: she was of Carthage, not of Tunis. Gon. This Tunis, sir, was Carthage. Adr. Carthage? Gon. I assure you, Carthage. Ant. His word is more than the miraculous harp. Seb. He hath raised the wall, and houses too. Ant. What impossible matter will he make easy next? Seb. I think he will carry this island home in his pocket, and give it his son for an apple. Ant. And sowing the kernels of it in the sea, bring forth more islands. Gon. Ay? Ant. Why, in good time. Gon. Sir, we were talking that our garments seem now as fresh as when we were at Tunis at the marriage of your daughter, who is now queen. Ant. And the rarest that e'er came there. Seb. 'Bate, I beseech you, widow Dido. Ant. O, widow Dido; ay, widow Dido. Gon. Is not, sir, my doublet as fresh as the first day I wore it? I mean, in a sort. |