Pro. Fairly spoke; Sit then, and talk with her, she is thine own. Enter Ariel.. Ari. What would my potent Master? here I am. Did worthily perform; and I must use you Ari. Presently? Pro. Ay, with a Twink. Ari. Before you can fay Come, and go, And breathe twice; and cry, So, fo; Each one tripping on his Toe, Will be here with Mop and Mow. Do you love me, Master? No. Pro. Dearly, my delicate Ariel; do not approach 'Till thou do'st hear me call. Ari. Well, I conceive. Pro. Look thou be true; do not give Dalliance Too much the Rein; the strongest Oaths are Straw To th' Fire i'th' Blood: Be more Abstemious, Or else good-night your Vow. Fer. I warrant you, Sir, The white cold Virgin-Snow, upon my Heart, Abates the Ardours of my Liver. Pro. Well. Now come my Ariel, bring a Corolary, [Exit Rather than want a Spirit, appear, and pertly. [Soft Musick. No Tongue; all Eyes; be filent. Enter Iris. Iris. Ceres, most bounteous Lady, the rich Leas Of Whear, Rye, Barley, Fetches, Oats, and Pease; Thy turfy Mountains, where live nibling Sheep, And flat Medes thetch'd with Stover, them to keep; Thy Banks with pioned, and tulip'd Brims, Which spungy April, at thy Hest betrims, To ! Ari. That's my noble Master: What shall I do? Say what? What shall I do? Pro. Go make thy self like to a Nymph o'th' Sea. With Diligence. [Exit. Pro. Awake, dear Heart awake, thou hast slept well, Mira. The Strangeness of your Story put Pro. Shake it off: Come on, We'll vifit Caliban, my Slave, who never Mira. 'Tis a Villain, Sir, I do not love to look on. We cannot miss him: He does make our Fire, That profit us. What hoa! Slave! Caliban! Cal. (within.) There's Wood enough within. Pro. Come forth, I say, there's other Business for thee? Come thou Tortoys, when? Enter Ariel like a Water-Nymph. Fine Apparition: My quaint Ariel, Heark in thine Ear. Ari. My Lord, it shall be done. [Exit. Pro. Thou poisonous Slave, got by the Devil himself Upon thy wicked Dam; come forth. Enter Caliban. Cal. As wicked Dew, as e'er my Mother brush'd With Ravens Feather from unwholsome Fen, Pro. For this, be sure, to Night thou shalt have Cramps, Side-stitches, that shall pen thy Breath up, Urchins Than Bees that made 'em. Cal. I must eat my Dinner; This Island's mine by Sycorax my Mother, 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, Of Sycorax; Toads, Beetles, Bats light on you! Which first was mine own King: And here you sty me Pro. Thou most lying Slave, Whom Stripes may move, not Kindness; I have us'd thee Cal. Oh ho, oh ho, would't had been done! Mira. Abhorred Slave, 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 wer't best What What I command, I'll rack thee with old Cramps, Cal. No, 'pray thee. I must obey, his Art is of such Pow'r, Pro. So Slave, hence. [Exit Calibari. Enter Ferdinand, and Ariel invisible, playing and finging. ARIEL's SONG. Come unto these yellow Sands, And then take Hands: Curt'fied when you have, and kist, The wild Waves whift; Foot it featly here and there, and sweet Sprights bear [Burthen dispersedly. Hark, hark, bough-wawgh: The Watch-Dogs bark, Bough-wawgh. Ari. Hark, hark, I hear the Strain of strutting Chanticlere, Cry Cock-adoodle-do Fer. Where should this Musick be? I'th'Air, or th'Earth? ARIEL's SONG. Full Fathom five thy Father lyes Nothing of him that doth fade, Into Something rich, and strange. Sea-Nymphs hourly ring his Knell. [Burthen: Ding-dong. Fer Hark now I hear them, ding-dong Bell. Fer. The Ditty does remember my drown'd Father; This is no mortal Business, nor no Sound That the Earth owes: I hear it now above me. Prò. The fringed Curtains of thine Eye advance, And say what thou see'st 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 fleeps, and hath such Senses As we have; fuch. This Gallant which thou seest And strays about to find 'em. Mira. I might call him A thing divine, for nothing natural I ever saw so noble. Pro. It goes on, I fee, : As my Soul prompts it: Spirit, fine Spirit, I'll free thee Within two Days for this. Fer. Most sure the Goddefs On whom these Ayres attend. Vouchsafe my Pray'r May know, if you remain upon this Island, If you be made, or no? Mira. No Wonder, Sir, But certainly a Maid. Fer. My Language! Heav'ns! What wer't 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: My self am Naples, Who, with mine Eyes (never since at Ebb) beheld The King my Father wrackt.. Mira. Alack, for Mercy. Fer. Yes faith, and all his Lords, the Duke of Millan VOL. I. C And |