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Will cry it o'er again; it is a hint
That wrings mine eyes to't.
Pro. Hear a little further,
And then I'll bring thee to the present business Which now's upon's, without the which this story Were most impertinent.
Mira. Why did they not That hour destroy us?
Pro. Well demanded, wench;
My tale provokes that question. They durft not,
A mark fo bloody on the business; but
Bore us fome leagues to fea, where they prepar'd
Mira. Alack! what trouble
Was I then to you?
Pro. O! a cherubim
Thou waft that did preserve me: thou didst smile Infused with a fortitude from heav'n;
(When I have brack'd the sea with drops full falt, Under my burthen groan'd) which rais'd in me An undergoing stomach, to bear up
Against what should ensue.
Mira. How came we a-fhore?
Pro. By providence divine.
Some food we had, and fome fresh water, that
A noble Neapolitan, Gonzalo,
Out of his charity (being then appointed
Rich garments, linnens, stuffs, and neceffaries,
Which fince have steeded much. So of his gentleness,
From my own library, with volumes that
I prize above my
Mira. Would I might
But ever fee that man!
Pro. Now I arife:
Sit ftill, and hear the last of our fea-forrow.
Have I, thy school-master, made thee more profit
For vainer hours, and tutors not fo careful.
Mira. Heav'ns thank you for't! And now I pray you, fir, (For ftill 'tis beating in my mind) your reason
For raifing this fea-storm?
Pro. Know thus far forth;
By accident most strange bountiful fortune
Ari. All hail, great mafter! grave fir, hail! I come
To fwim; to dive into the fire; to ride
Ariel and all his qualities.
Pro. Haft thou, fpirit,
Perform'd to point the tempeft that I bad thee?
I boarded the king's fhip: now on the beak,
And fight out-running were not; the fire and cracks
Pro. That's my brave spirit!
Who was fo firm, so constant, that this coil
Ari. Not a foul
But felt a fever of the mind, and plaid
Some tricks of defperation: all but mariners Plung❜d in the foaming brine, and quit the vessel, Then all a-fire with me: the king's fon Ferdinand With hair up-staring (then like reeds, not hair) Was the first man that leap'd; cry'd, hell is empty,
And all the devils are here.
Pro. Why that's my spirit!
But was not this nigh fhore?
On their fuftaining garments not a blemish,
But fresher than before. And as thou badft me,
In an odd angle of the isle, and fitting,
His arms in this fad knot.
Pro. Of the king's fhip
The mariners, fay how thou haft difpos'd,
Ari. Safely in harbour
Is the king's fhip; in the deep nook, where once
Whom with a charm join'd to their fuffered labour,
Bound fadly home for Naples,
Suppofing that they faw the king's fhip wreck'd,
Pro. Ariel, thy charge
Exactly is perform'd; but there's more work :
What is the time o' th' day?
Ari. Paft the mid feafon.
Pro. At least two glaffes: the time 'twixt fix and now
Muft by us both be spent moft preciously.
Ari. Is there more toil? fince thou doft give me pains, Let me remember thee what thou haft promis'd,
Which is not yet perform'd me.
Pro. How now ? moody?
What is't thou canft demand?
Ari. My liberty.
Pro. Before the time be out? no more.
Ari. I pr'ythee,
Remember I have done thee worthy service,
(a) This is the Spanish pronunciation of Bermudas: the account of which island in Purchas's Pilgrimage is, that it was call'd the Ifland of Devils and the inchanted Ísland, these names being given it from the monftrous tempefts which there have been often fuftain'd. And again, Speaking of the whole cluster of islands with which the great one is furrounded, he faith, The islands feem rent with tempefts of thunder, lightning and rain, which threaten in time to devour them all.
Told thee no lies, made no mistakings, ferv'd
Without or grudge or grumblings; thou didst promise
To bate me a full
Pro. Doft thou forget
From what a torment I did free thee?
Pro. Thou doft; and think'ft it much to tread the ooze
Of the falt deep;
To run upon the sharp wind of the north;
To do me business in the veins o'th' earth,
When it is bak'd with frost.
Ari. I do not, fir.
Pro. Thou ly'ft, malignant thing: haft thou forgot The foul witch Sycorax, who with age and envy
Was grown into a hoop? haft thou forgot her?
Ari. No, fir.
Pro. Thou haft: where was fhe born? fpeak; tell me, fay. Ari. Sir, in Argier.
Pro. Oh, was the fo? I must
Once in a month recount what thou hast been,
Which thou forget'ft. This damn'd witch Sycorax,
For mischiefs manifold, forceries too terrible
To enter human hearing, from Argier,
Thou know'ft, was banish'd: for one thing she did
Pro. This blue-ey'd hag was hither brought with child,
As thou report'st thy felf, waft then her fervant.
And, for thou waft a spirit too delicate
To act her earthly and abhorr'd commands,