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Alack, for pity!
Hear a little further,
Wherefore did they not That hour destroy us? Pro.
( Well demanded, wench; My tale provokes that question. ) Dear, they durst
not; (So dear the love my people bore me) nor set A mark so bloody on the business; but With colours fairer painted their foul ends. In few, they hurried us aboard a bark; Bore us some leagues to sea; where they prepar’d A rotten carcase of a boat, not rigg'd, Nor tackle, sail, nor mast; the very rats Instinctively had quit it: there they hoist us, To cry to the sea that roar’d to us; to sigh To the winds, whose pity, sighing back again, Did us but loving wrong. Mira.
Alack ! what trouble Was I then to you ! Pro.
O! a cherubim Thou wast, that did preserve me! Thou didst
.. smile, Infused with a fortitude from heaven, When I have deck’dt the sea with drops full salt; Under my burden groan’d; which rais'd in me An undergoing stomach I, to bear up Against what should ensue. Mira.
How came we ashore ? Pro. By Providence divine. Some food we had, and some fresh water, that A noble Neapolitan, Gonzalo,
Suggestion. † Sprinkled. Stubborn resolution.
Out of his charity (who being then appointed
'Would I might
Now I arise :Sit still, and hear the last of our sea sorrow. Here in this island we arriv’d; and here Have I, thy school-master, 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? Pro.
Know thus far forth.By accident most strange, bountiful fortune, i 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. :
[Miranda sleeps, Come away, servant, come: I am ready now; ' Approach, my Ariel ; come.
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 pre
cursors O’ the dreadful thunder-claps, more momentary And sight-outrunning 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. Pro.
My brave spirit ! Who was so firm, so constant, that this coilt Would not infect his reason? Ari. ,
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; cried, Hell is empty, And all the devils are here. Pro.
Why, that's my spirit. But was not this nigh shore ? Ari.
Close by, my master. Pro. But are they, Ariel, safe? Ari.
Not a hair perish'd ; 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, . The minutest article.
of Bustle, tumult.
In an odd angle of the isle, and sitting,
Of the king's ship,
Safely in harbour
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. 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 ? moody?
I pray thee
promise To bate me a full year.
Dost thou forget
to Wave. VOL. I.
From what a torment I did free thee?..
I do not, sir.
forgot The foul witch Sycorax, who, with age, and envy, Was grown into a hoop ? hast thou forgot her!
Ari. No, sir.
speak; tell me. Ari. Sir, in Argier *. Pro.
O, was she so? I must,
Äri. Ay, sir.
groans, As fast as mill-wheels strike; then was this island * Algiers.