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Who was fo firm, fo conftant,
Would not infect his reafon ?


My brave spirit!
that this coil

Not a foul

But felt a fever of the mad, and play'd

Some tricks of defperation: All, but mariners,
Plung'd in the foaming brine, and quit the vessel,
Then all a-fire with me: the king's fon, Ferdinand,
With hair up-ftaring (then like reeds, not hair)
Was the first man that leap'd; cried, Hell is empty,
And all the devils are here.

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On their fuftaining garments not a blemish,
But fresher than before: and as thou bad'ft me,
In troops
I have difpers'd them 'bout the isle :
The king's fon have I landed by himself;
Whom I left cooling of the air with fighs,
In an odd angle of the isle, and fitting,
His arms in this fad knot.


Of the king's fhip,

The mariners, fay, how thou haft difpos'd,
And all the reft o' the fleet?


Safely in harbour

Is the king's fhip; in the deep nook, where once
Thou call'dit me up at midnight to fetch dew
From the ftill-vex'd Bermoothes, there she's hid:
The mariners all under hatches ftow'd;

Whom, with a charm join'd to their fuffer'd labour,
I have left asleep and for the reft o' the fleet,
Which I difpers'd, they all have met again;


And are upon the Mediterranean flote,
Bound fadly home for Naples;

Suppofing that they faw the king's fhip wreck'd,
And his great perfon perish.


Ariel, thy charge

Exactly is perform'd; but there's more work:
What is the time o' the day?


Paft the mid feafon.

Pro. At least two glasses: The time 'twixt fix and now, Muft by us both be spent most preciously.

Ari. Is there more toil? Since thou doft give me pains, Let me remember thee what thou haft promis'd,

Which is not yet perform'd me.


What is't thou can't demand?


How now ? moody?

My liberty.

I pray thee

Pro. Before the time be out? no more.

Ari. Remember, I have done thee worthy service; Told thee no lies, made no mistakings, ferv'd Without or grudge, or grumblings: thou didst promife To bate me a full year.


Doft thou forget


From what a torment I did free thee?


Pro. Thou doft; and think'st

It much, to tread the ooze of the falt deep;
To run upon the sharp wind of the north;
To do me business in the veins o' the earth,
When it is bak'd with froft.


I do not, fir.

Pro. Thou lieft, malignant thing! Haft thou forgot The foul witch Sycorax, who, with age, and envy, Was grown into a hoop? haft thou forgot her?

Ari. No, fir.


tell me.

Thou haft: Where was the born? speak;

Ari. Sir, in Argier.


O, was the fo? I must,

Once in a month, recount what thou hast been,
Which thou forget'ft. This damn'd witch, Sycorax,
For mischiefs manifold, and forceries terrible

To enter human hearing, from Argier,

Thou know'ft, was banish'd; for one thing she did,
They would not take her life: Is not this true?
Ari. Ay, fir.

Pro. This blue-ey'd hag was hither brought with child,
And here was left by the sailors: Thou, my slave,
As thou report'ft thyfelf, waft then her fervant:
And, for thou wast a spirit too delicate

To act her earthy and abhorr'd commands,
Refufing her grand hefts, the did confine thee,
By help of her more potent ministers,
And in her most unmitigable rage,
Into a cloven pine; within which rift
Imprifon'd, thou didst painfully remain
A dozen years; within which space she died,

And left thee there; where thou didst vent thy groans,
As faft as mill-wheels ftrike: Then was this island,
(Save for the fon that she did litter here,

A freckled whelp, hag-born) not honour'd with
A human shape.


Yes; Caliban her fon.

Pro. Dull thing, I fay fo; he, that Caliban,
Whom now I keep in fervice. Thou best know'st
What torment I did find thee in: thy groans
Did make wolves howl, and penetrate the breasts
Cf 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.


I thank thee, master.

Pro. If thou more murmur'ft, I will rend an oak,
And peg thee in his knotty entrails, till
Thou haft howl'd away twelve winters.

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What shall I do? fay what? what shall I do?

Pro. Go make thyself like to a nymph o` the sea;
Be fubject to no fight but mine; invifible
To every eye-ball elfe. Go, take this shape,
And hither come in't: hence, with diligence.

[Exit ARIEL. Awake, dear heart, awake! thou haft flept well; Awake!

Mira. The ftrangeness of your story put Heaviness in me.


Shake it off: Come on;

We'll vifit Caliban, my flave, who never

Yields us kind answer.


I do not love to look on.


'Tis a villain, fir,

But, as 'tis,

We cannot mifs him: he does make our fire,
Fetch in our wood; and ferves in offices
That profit us. What, ho! flave! Caliban!
Thou earth, thou! speak.


Cal. [Within.] There's wood enough within.

Pro. Come forth, I fay; there's other business for thee: Come forth, thou tortoife! when?

Re enter ARIEL, like a water nymph.

Fine apparition! My quaint Ariel,

Hark in thine ear.


My lord, it fhall be done.


Pro. Thou poisonous flave, got by the devil himself Upon thy wicked dam, come forth!


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 blifter you all o'er!

Pro. For this, be fure, to-night thou shalt have cramps,
Side-stitches that shall pen thy breath up; urchins
Shall, for that vaft of night that they may work,
All exercise on thee: thou shalt be pinch'd

As thick as honey-combs, each pinch more flinging
Than bees that made them.


I must eat my dinner.

This ifland's mine, by Sycorax my mother,

Which thou tak ft from me. When thou camest first, Thou ftrok'dit me, and mad'ft much of me; would'

give me

Water with berries in't; and teach me how

To name the bigger light, and how the lefs,

That burn by day and night: and then I lov'd thee,

And shew'd thee all the qualities o' the ifle,

The fresh springs, brine pits, barren place, and fertile ; Curfed be I that did fo!-All the charms

Of Sycorax, toads, beetles, bats, light on you!

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