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How came we ashore?
Pro. By Providence divine.
Some food we had, and some fresh water, that
Out of his charity (who being then appointed
Rich garments, linens, stuffs, and necessaries,
Knowing I lov'd my books, he furnish'd me,
But ever see that man!
'Would I might
Now I arise:
Sit still, and hear the last of our sea-sorrow.
Have I, thy school-master, made thee more profit
(For still 'tis beating in my mind,) your reason
Pro. 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 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;
Ari. All hail, great master! grave sir, hail! I
To answer thy best pleasure; be't to fly,
On the curl'd clouds; to thy strong bidding, task
I boarded the king's ship; now on the beak,
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 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 upstaring (then like reeds, not hair,) Was the first man that leap'd; cried, Hell is empty, And all the devils are here.
Why, that's my spirit!
But was not this nigh shore?
Close by, my master.
Not a hair perish'd;
Pro. But are they, Ariel, safe?
On their sustaining garments not a blemish,
(1) The minutest article.
(2) Bustle, tumult.
The king's son have I landed by himself;
Of the king's ship,
The mariners, say, how thou hast dispos'd,
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,
Supposing that they saw the king's ship wreck'd,
Ariel, thy charge Exactly is perform'd; but there's more work:
What is the time o' the day?
Past the mid season.
Pro. At least two glasses: the time 'twixt six
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.
What is't thou canst demand?
How now? moody?
Pro. Before the time be out? no more. Ari. I pray thee Remember, I have done thee worthy service; Told thee no lies, made no mistakings, serv'd
Pro. Thou dost; and think'st
It much, to tread the ooze of the salt deep;
I do not, sir. Pro. Thou liest, malignant thing! Hast thou
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.1
O, was she so? I must,
Pro. 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
They would not take her life. Is not this true?
Pro. This blue-ey'd hag was hither brought with child,
And here was left by the sailors. Thou, my slave,
To act her earthly and abhorr'd commands,
Into a cloven pine; within which rift
A dozen years; within which space she died,
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.
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.
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.
Do so; and after two days
I will discharge thee.
To every eye-ball else. Go, take this shape,
Awake, dear heart, awake! thou hast slept well; Awake!
Mira. The strangeness of your story put Heaviness in me.