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.

Pro.
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 coil2 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 upstaring (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.

Not a hair perish'd;

Pro. But are they, Ariel, safe? Ari. 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 :

(1) The minutest article.

(2) Bustle, tumult.

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.

Pro.

Of the king's ship,

The mariners, say, how thou hast dispos'd,
And all the rest o' the fleet?

Ari. Safely in harbour Is the king's ship; in the deep nook, where once Thou call'dst me up at midnight to fetch dew From the still-vex'd Bermoothes,' there she's hid. The mariners all under hatches stowed;

Whom, with a charm join'd to their suffer'd labour,

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 flote2,
Bound sadly home for Naples;

Supposing that they saw the king's ship wreck'd,
And his great person perish.

Pro.

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.

What is't thou canst demand?

Ari.

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, serv'd

(1) Bermudas.

(2) Wave.

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.

Ari.

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 the forgot her?

Ari. No, sir.

Pro.

Thou hast where was she born?

speak; tell me.

Ari. Sir, in Argier.1

Pro.

O, was she so? I must,

Once in a month, recount what thou hast been,
Which thou forget'st. This damn'd 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 with child,

And here was left by the sailors. Thou, my slave
As thou report'st thyself, wast then her servant.
And, for thou wast a spirit too delicate

To act her earthly and abhorr'd commands,
Refusing her grand hests2, she did confine thee,
By help of her more potent ministers,
And in her most unmitigable rage,

(1) Algiers.

(2) Commands.

Into a cloven pine; within which rift
Imprison'd, thou didst painfully remain

A dozen years; within which space she died, And left thee there; where thou didst vent thy groans,

As fast as mill-wheels strike: then was this island (Save for the son that she did litter here,

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

Ari.

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: 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.

Ari.

I thank thee, inaster. 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.

Ari.

Pardon, master:

I will be correspondent to command,
And do my spiriting gently.

Pro.

I will discharge thee.

Ari.

Do so; and after two days

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 eye-ball else. Go, take this shape,
And hither come in't: hence, with diligence.

[Exit Ariel. Awake, dear heart, awake! thou hast slept wel; Awake!

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

Pro.

Shake it off: come on;

We'll visit Caliban, my slave, who never

Yields us kind answer.

Mira.

I do not love to look on.

Pro.

'Tis a villain, sir,

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.

Fine apparition! My quaint Ariel,

Hark in thine ear.

Ari.

My lord, it shall be done. [Ext.

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 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.

Cal.

I must eat my dinner This island's mine, by Sycorax, my mother,

(1) Do without.

(2) Fairies.