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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 my own library, with volumes that
I prize above
'Would I might
But ever see that man!
Now I arise:
Sit still, and hear the last of our sea-sorrow.
Here in this island we arrived; and here
Have 1, 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 ?
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 can'st not choose.
Come away, servant, come: I am ready now;
Approach, my Ariel; come.
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.
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: Sometimes, I'd divide,
And burn in many places; on the top-mast,
The yards and bowsprit, would I flame distinctly,
Then meet, and join: Jove's lightnings, the precursors
O' the dreadful thunder-claps, more momentary
And sight-out-running were not: The fire, and cracks
Of sulphurous roaring, the most mighty Neptune
Seem'd to besiege, and make his bold waves tremble,
Yea, his dread trident shake.
My brave spirit !
Who was so firm, so constant, that this coil*
Would not infect his reason?
Not a soul
But felt a fever of the mad, and play'd
Some tricks of desperation: All, but mariners,
Plung'd 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.
Why, that's my spirit!
But was not this nigh shore?
Close by, my master.
Pro. But are they, Ariel, safe ?
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.
Of the king's ship,
The mariners, say, how thou hast dispos'd,
And all the rest o' the fleet ?
Safely in harbor
Is the king's ship; in the deep nook, where once
Thou call'dst me at midnight to fetch dew
From the still-vex'd Bermoothes, there she's hid:
The mariners all under hatches stow'd;
Whom, with a charm join'd to their suffer'd labor,
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 wreck'd,
And his great person perish.
Ariel, thy charge Exactly is perform'd; but there's more work: What is the time o' the 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.
* Bustle, tumult.
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.
How now ? moody?
What is't thou can'st demand?
Pro. Before the time be out? no more.
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.
Dost thou forget
From what a torment I did free thee?
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' the earth,
When it is bak'd with frost.
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.
Thou hast: Where was she born? speak tell me.
Ari. Sir, in Argier.
O, was she so? I must,
Once in a month, recount what thou hast been,
Which thou forget'st. This vile 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,
And here was left by the sailors: Thou, my slave,
As thou report'st thyself, was 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 did'st painfully remain
A dozen years; within which space she died,
And left thee there; where thou didst vent thy groans,
As fast as mill-whee.s strike: Then was this island,
Saving her son, not honor'd with
A human shape.
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. This 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'st, I will rend an oak,
And peg thee in his knotty entrails, till
Thou hast howl'd away twelve winters.
I will be correspondent to command,
And do my spiriting gently.
I will discharge thee.
That's my noble master!
What shall I do? say what? what shall I do?
Pro. Go, make thyself like to a nymph o' the sea;
Be subject to no sight but mine; invisible
To every eyeball else. Go, take this shape,
And hither come in't: hence, with diligence.
Awake, dear heart, awake! thou hast slept well;
Do so; and after two days
Mira. The strangeness of your story put Heaviness in me.
I do not love to look on.
Shake it off; Come on; We'll visit Caliban, my slave, who never Yields us a kind answer.
"Tis a villain, sir,
Fine apparition! My quaint Ariel,
Hark in thine ear.
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 forth, thou tortoise! when?
Re-enter ARIEL, like a water-nymph.
My lord, it shall be done. Pro. Thou poisonous slave, 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 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, for that vast of night that they may work,
All exercise on thee: thou shalt be pinch'd
As thick as honey-combs, each pinch more stinging
Than bees that made them.
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; would'st 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' the isle,
The fresh springs, brine pits, barren place, and fertile ;
Cursed be I that I 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, while you do keep from me
The rest of the island.
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 did'st not, savage,
Know thine own meaning, but would'st gabble like
A thing most brutish, I endow'd thy purposes
With words that made them known: But thy vile race,
Though thou did'st learn, had that in't which good natures
Could not abide to be with; therefore wast thou
Deservedly confin'd into this rock,
Who had'st 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!
Fetch us in fuel; and be quick, thou wert 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.