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Francisco: They all enter the circle which Prospero had made, and there stand charmed; which Prospero observing, speaks.

A solemn air, and the best comforter
To an unsettled fancy, cure thy brains,

Now useless, boil'd within thy skull! There stand,
For you are spell-stopp'd.-

Holy Gonzalo, honourable man,

Mine eyes, even sociable to the show of thine, Fall fellowly drops.-The charm dissolves apace; And as the morning steals upon the night, Melting the darkness, so their rising senses Begin to chase the ignorant fumes that mantle Their clearer reason.-O my good Gonzalo, My true preserver, and a loyal sir To him thou follow'st; I will pay thy graces Home, both in word and deed.-Most cruelly Didst thou, Alonso, use me and my daughter : Thy brother was a furtherer in the act ;Thou'rt pinch'd for't now, Sebastian.-Flesh and blood,

You brother mine, that entertain'd ambition,
Expell'd remorse1 and nature; who, with Sebastian
(Whose inward pinches therefore are most strong,)
Would here have kill'd your king; I do forgive thee,
Unnatural though thou art!-Their understanding
Begins to swell: and the approaching tide
Will shortly fill the reasonable shores,
That now lie foul and muddy. Not one of them,
That yet looks on me, or would know me:-Ariel,
Fetch me the hat and rapier in my cell;

[Exit Ariel.

I will dis-case me, and myself present,
As I was sometime Milan :-quickly, spirit;
Thou shalt ere long be free.

Ariel re-enters, singing, and helps to attire

(1) Pity, or tenderness of heart. VOL. I.


Ari. Where the bee sucks, there suck I;
In a cowslip's bell I lie:
There I couch when owls do cry.
On the bat's back I do fly,
After summer, merrily:
Merrily, merrily, shall I live now,
Under the blossom that hangs on the bough.
shall miss

Pro. Why, that's my dainty Ariel ; thee;

But yet thou shalt have freedom: so, so, so.—
To the king's ship, invisible as thou art:
There shalt thou find the mariners asleep
Under the hatches; the master, and the boatswain,
Being awake, enforce them to this place;
And presently, I pr'ythee.

Ari. I drink the air before me, and return
Or e'er your pulse twice beat.

[Exit Ariel. Gon. All torment, trouble, wonder, and amaze


Inhabits here: Some heavenly power guide us
Out of this fearful country!


Behold, sir king,
The wronged duke of Milan, Prospero;
For more assurance that a living prince
Does now speak to thee, I embrace thy body;
And to thee, and thy company, I bid
A hearty welcome.


Whe'rl thou beest he, or no, Or some enchanted trifle to abuse me, As late I have been, I not know: thy pulse Beats, as of flesh and blood; and, since I saw thee, The affliction of my mind amends, with which, I fear, a madness held me: this must crave (An if this be at all) a most strange story. Thy dukedom I resign; and do entreat Thou pardon me my wrongs :-But how should Prospero

(1) Whether.

Be living, and be here?


First, noble friend, Let me embrace thine age; whose honour cannot Be measur'd, or confin'd.

Whether this be,


Or be not, I'll not swear.
You do yet taste
Some subtilties o' the isle, that will not let you
Believe things certain :-Welcome, my friends

But you, my brace of lords, were I so minded,
[Aside to Seb. and Ant.
I here could pluck his highness' frown upon you,
And justify you traitors; at this time
I'll tell no tales.

The devil speaks in him. [Aside.

Pro. No;For you, most wicked sir, whom to call brother Would even infect my mouth, I do forgive Thy rankest fault; all of them; and require My dukedom of thee, which, perforce, I know, Thou must restore.

Alon. If thou beest Prospero, Give us particulars of thy preservation; How thou hast met us here, who three hours since Were wreck'd upon this shore; where I have lost, How sharp the point of this remembrance is! My dear son Ferdinand.


I am wo1 for't, sir. Alon. Irreparable is the loss; and Patience Says, it is past her cure.


I rather think

You have not sought her help; of whose soft grace,
For the like loss, I have her sovereign aid,
And rest myself content.


You the like loss? Pro. As great to me, as late; and, portable2 To make the dear loss, have I means much weaker

(1) Sorry.

(2) Bearable.

Than you may call to comfort you; for I
Have lost my daughter.

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A daughter?

O heavens! that they were living both in Naples, The king and queen there! that they were, I wish Myself were mudded in that oozy bed

Where my son lies. When did you lose your daughter?

Pro. In this last tempest. I perceive, these lords At this encounter do so much admire, That they devour their reason; and scarce think Their eyes do offices of truth, their words Are natural breath; but, howsoe'er you have Been justled from your senses, know for certain, That I am Prospero, and that very duke Which was thrust forth of Milan; who most strangely Upon this shore, where you were wreck'd, was landed,

To be the lord on't. No more yet of this;
For 'tis a chronicle of day by day,
Not a relation for a breakfast, nor
Befitting this first meeting. Welcome, sir;
This cell's my court: here have I few attendants,
And subjects none abroad: pray you, look in.
dukedom since you have given me again,
I will requite you with as good a thing;
At least, bring forth a wonder, to content ye,
As much as me my dukedom.

The entrance of the cell opens, and discovers Ferdinand and Miranda playing at chess.

Mira. Sweet lord, you play me false.
No, my dearest love,


I would not for the world.

Mira. Yes, for a score of kingdoms you should


And I would call it fair play.

A vision of the island, one dear son

If this prove

Shall I twice lose.

Seb. A most high miracle!

Fer. Though the seas threaten, they are merciful; I have curs'd them without cause.

[Ferd. kneels to Alon. Now all the blessings


Of a glad father compass thee about!
Arise, and say how thou cam'st here.


O! wonder! How many goodly creatures are there here! How beauteous mankind is! O brave new world, That has such people in't!


'Tis new to thee. Alon. What is this maid, with whom thou wast at play?

Your eld'st acquaintance cannot be three hours:
Is she the goddess that hath sever'd us,
And brought us thus together?

Fer. Sir, she's mortal; But, by immortal Providence, she's mine; I chose her, when I could not ask my father For his advice; nor thought I had one: she Is daughter to this famous duke of Milan, Of whom so often I have heard renown, But never saw before; of whom I have Receiv'd a second life, and second father This lady makes him to me.


I am hers: But O, how oddly will it sound, that I Must ask my child forgiveness!


Let us not burden our remembrances
With a heaviness that's gone.

There, sir, stop:


I have inly wept, Or should have spoke ere this. Look down, you gods, And on this couple drop a blessed crown; For it is you, that have chalk'd forth the way Which brought us hither!

Alon. I say, Amen, Gonzalo ! Gon. Was Milan thrust from Milan, this issue

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