II.

ACT III.-SCENE I.-Enter FERDINAND, bearing a log.

Fer. There be some sports are painful; and their labour Delight in them sets off: some kinds of baseness

Are nobly undergone; and most poor matters
Point to rich ends. This my mean task
Would be as heavy to me as odious; but

The mistress which I serve quickens what's dead,
And makes my labours pleasures: O, she is
Ten times more gentle than her father's crabbed;
And he's compos'd of harshness. I must remove
Some thousands of these logs, and pile them up,
Upon a sore injunction: My sweet mistress

Weeps when she sees me work; and says such baseness
Had never like executor. I forget:

But these sweet thoughts do even refresh my labours
Most busy-less when I do it.

Mira.

Enter MIRANDA, and PROSPERO at a distance.
Alas, now! pray you,
Work not so hard; I would the lightning had
Burnt up those logs that you are enjoin'd to pile!
Pray set it down, and rest you: when this burns,
"T will weep for having wearied you; My father
Is hard at study; pray now rest yourself;
He's safe for these three hours.

O most dear mistress,

Fer.
The sun will set before I shall discharge
What I must strive to do.

Mira.

If you 'll sit down

I'll bear your logs the while: Pray give me that;
I'll carry it to the pile.

Fer.

No, precious creature:

I had rather crack my sinews, break my back,
Than you should such dishonour undergo,

While I sit lazy by.

As well as it does you: and I should do it

With much more ease; for my good will is to it,

And yours it is against.

Pro.

This visitation shows it.

Mira.

Poor worm! thou art infected;

You look wearily.

Fer. No, noble mistress; 't is fresh morning with me, When you are by at night. I do beseech you, (Chiefly, that I might set it in my prayers,) What is your name?

Mira.

Miranda:-O my father,

I have broke your hest to say so!

Fer.

Admir'd Miranda!

Indeed the top of admiration; worth
What's dearest to the world! Full many a lady
I have eyed with best regard; and many a time
The harmony of their tongues hath into bondage
Brought my too diligent ear: for several virtues
Have I lik'd several women; never any
With so full soul, but some defect in her
Did quarrel with the noblest grace she ow'd,
And put it to the foil: But you, O you,
So perfect, and so peerless, are created
Of every creature's best.

I do not know

Mira.
One of my sex; no woman's face remember,
Save, from my glass, mine own; nor have I seen
More that I may call men, than you, good friend,
And my dear father: how features are abroad,
I am skill-less of; but, by my modesty,
The jewel in my dower,) I would not wish
Any companion in the world but you;
Nor can imagination form a shape,
Beside yourself, to like of: But I prattle
Something too wildly, and my father's precepts
I therein do forget.

Fer.

I am, in my condition,

A prince, Miranda; I do think, a king;

(I would not so!) and would no more endure

This wooden slavery, than to suffer

The flesh-fly blow my mouth.-Hear my soul speak -

The very instant that I saw you, did

My heart fly to your service; there resides,

To make me slave to it; and for your sake
Am I this patient log-man.

Mira.

Do you love me?

Fer. O heaven, O earth, bear witness to this sound,
And crown what I profess with kind event,
If I speak true; if hollowly, invert
What best is boded me, to mischief! I,
Beyond all limit of what else i' the world,
Do love, prize, honour you.

Mira.

I am a fool,

To weep at what I am glad of.

Pro.
Fair encounter
Of two most rare affections! Heavens rain grace
On that which breeds between them!

Fer.

Wherefore weep you?
Mira. At mine unworthiness, that dare not offer
What I desire to give; and much less take
What I shall die to want: but this is trifling;
And all the more it seeks to hide itself,

The bigger bulk it shows. Hence, bashful cunning!
And prompt me, plain and holy innocence!

I am your wife, if you will marry me;
If not, I'll die your maid: to be your fellow
You may deny me; but I'll be your servant,
Whether you will or no.

Fer.

And I thus humble ever.

Mira.

My mistress, dearest,

My husband then

Fer. Ay, with a heart as willing

As bondage e'er of freedom: here's my hand.

Mira. And mine, with my heart in't: And now fare

well,

Till half an hour hence.

Fer.

A thousand! thousand!

[Exeunt FER. and MIR.

Pro. So glad of this as they I cannot be, Who are surpris'd with all; but my rejoicing At nothing can be more. I'll to my book; For yet, ere supper-time, must I perform Much business appertaining.

[Exit.

III.

ACT V.-SCENE 1.-Enter PROSPERO in his magic robes and ARIEL.

Pro. Now does my project gather to a head:
My charms crack not; my spirits obey; and Time
Goes upright with his carriage. How's the day?
Ari. On the sixth hour; at which time, my lord,
You said our work should cease.

Pro.

I did say so,
When first I rais'd the tempest. Say, my spirit,
How fares the king and 's followers ?

Ari.
Confin'd together
In the same fashion as you gave in charge
Just as you left them; all prisoners, sir,

In the line-grove which weather-fends your cell;
They cannot budge till your release. The king,
His brother, and yours, abide all three distracted;
And the remainder mourning over them,
Brimfull of sorrow and dismay; but chiefly

Him that you term'd, sir, "The good old lord, Gonzalo;"
His tears run down his beard, like winter's drops

From eaves of reeds: your charm so strongly works them That if you now beheld them your affections

Would become tender.

Pro.

Dost thou think so, spirit?

Ari. Mine would, sir, were I human.
Pro.

And mine shall.

Hast thou, which art but air, a touch, a feeling
Of their afflictions? and shall not myself,

One of their kind, that relish all as sharply,

Passion as they, be kindlier mov'd than thou art?

Though with their high wrongs I am strook to the quick, Yet, with my nobler reason 'gainst my fury

Do I take part: the rarer action is

In virtue than in vengeance: they being penitent,

The sole drift of my purpose doth extend
Not a frown further: Go, release them, Ariel;
My charms I'll break, their senses I'll restore,
And they shall be themselves.

Ari.

I'll fetch them, sir. [Exit.

Pro. Ye elves of hills, brooks, standing lakes, and groves And ye that on the sands with printless foot Do chase the ebbing Neptune, and do fly him, When he comes back; you demi-puppets that By moonshine do the green sour ringlets make, Whereof the ewe not bites; and you, whose pastime Is to make midnight-mushrooms; that rejoice To hear the solemn curfew; by whose aid (Weak masters though ye be) I have bedimm'd The noontide sun, call'd forth the mutinous winds, And 'twixt the green sea and the azur'd vault Set roaring war: to the dread rattling thunder Have I given fire, and rifted Jove's stout oak With his own bolt: the strong-bas'd promontory Have I made shake; and by the spurs pluck'd up The pine and cedar: graves, at my command, Have wak'd their sleepers; op'd, and let them forth By my so potent art: But this rough magic I here abjure: and, when I have requir'd Some heavenly music, (which even now I do,) To work mine end upon their senses that This airy charm is for, I'll break my staff, Bury it certain fathoms in the earth, And, deeper than did ever plummet sound, I'll drown my book.

[Solemn music.

Re-enter ARIEL: after him, ALONSO, with a frantic gesture, attended by GONZALO; SEBASTIAN and ANTONIO in like manner, attended by ADRIAN and 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 good Gonzalo,
My true preserver, and a loyal sir

To him thou follow'st, I will pay thy graces