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And his brave Son, being twain.

Pro. The Duke of Millan

And his more braver Daughter could controll thee,

If now 'twere fit to do't: At the first Sight
They have chang'd Eyes: Delicate Ariel,

I'll set thee free for this. A Word, good Sir,
I fear you have done your felf some Wrong: A Word.
Mira. Why speaks my Father so ungently? This

Is the third Man that e'er I saw; the first

That e'er I figh'd for: Pity move my Father
To be enclin'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 are both in eithers Pow'r: But this swift Business
I must uneasie make, lest too light winning

Make the Prize light. One Word more; I charge thee
That thou attend me; thou dost here ufurp

The Name thou ow'st not, and haft put thy felf

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 an House,

Good things will strive 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 Muscles, wither'd Roots, and Husks

Wherein the Acorn cradled. Follow.

Fer. No,

I will refift fuch Entertainment, 'till

Mine Enemy has more Pow'r.

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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 Shew, but dar'st not ftrike; thy Conscience

:

Is poffeft with Guilt: Come from thy Ward,
For I can here difarm 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 are no more such Shapes as he,
(Having feen 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 Wrack of all my Friends, and this Man's Threats,
To whom I am fubdu'd, 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. 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,
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' Syllable.

Pro. Come follow: Speak not for him.

[Excum

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ACT II. SCENE I.

Enter Alonso, Sebastian, Anthonio, Gonzalo, Adrian,
Francifco, and others.

Gonz.

B Efeech you Sir, be merry: You have Cause,

(So have we all) of Joy; for our Efcape

Is much beyond our Lofs; our Hint of Wo
Is common, every Day, some Sailor's Wife,
The Masters of some Merchant, and the Merchant
Have just our Theam of Wo: But for the Miracle,
(I mean our Preservation) few in Millions
Can speak like us: Then wisely, good Sir, weigh
Our Sorrow with our Comfort.

Alon. Prethee Peace.

Seb. He receives Comfort like cold Porridge.

Ant. The Visitor will not give o'er so.

Seb. Look, he's winding up the Watch of his Wit

By and by it will strike.

Gon. Sir.

Seb. On: Tell.

Gon. When every Grief is entertain'd

That's offer'd; comes to the Entertainer

Seb. A Dollor.

Gon. Dolour comes to him indeed, you have spoken truer

than you purpos'd.

Seb. You have taken it wiselier than I meant you should.

Gon. Therefore, my Lord.

Ant. Fie, what a Spend-thrift is he of his Tongue?

Alon. I prethee spare.

Gon. Well, I have done: But yet

Seb. He will be talking.

Ant. Which of he, or Adrian, for a good Wager,

First begins to crow?

Seb. The old Cock.

Ant. The Cockrell.

Seb. Done: The Wager?

Ant. A Laughter.

Seb. A Match.

Adr. Though this Island seem to be defert
Seb. Ha, ha, ha

Ant

Ant. So: You're paid.
Adr. Uninhabitable, and almost inaccessible.

Seb. Yet.

Adr. Yet

Ant. He could not miss't.

Adr. It must needs be of fubtle, tender, and delicate

Temperance.

Ant. Temperance was a delicate Wench.

Seb. Ay, and a fubtle, as he most learnedly deliver'd.

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.

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Seb. No: He doth but mistake the Truth totally.
Gon. But the Rarity of it is, which is indeed almost be-

yond Credit

Seb. As many voucht Rarities are,

Gon. That our Garments, being (as they were) drencht in the Sea, hold notwithstanding their Freshness and Gloffes, being rather new dy'd than stain'd with falt 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 Affrick, at the Marriage of the King's fair Daughter Claribel, to the King of Tunis.

Seb. 'Twas a sweet Marriage, and we profper well in our

Return.

Adri. Tunis was never grac'd before with such a Paragon to their Queen.

Gon. Not fince 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?

C3

4

Good

The Mariners all under Hatches stowed,
Who, with a Charm join'd to their suffered Labour,
I have left asleep; and for the rest o'th' Fleet
(Which I difpers'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 wrackt,
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 Seafon.

Pro. At least two Glasses: The time 'twixt fix 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? moodie?

What is't thou canst demand?

Ari. My Liberty.

Rro. Before the time be out? No more.

Ari. I prethee

Remember I have done thee worthy Service,
Told thee no Lies, made thee 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 thinkest 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'th' Earth

When it is bak'd with Frost.

Ari. I do not, Sir.

Pro. Thou lieft, malignant Thing: Haft 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. Oh, was she so: I must

Once

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