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Sweetest Bard that ever sung,
Warble forth such wood-notes wild.
Boats. Here, master: what cheer? Master. Good: Speak to the mariners: fall to't yarely, or we run ourselves aground: bestir, bestir. [Exit.
Gon. Good; yet remember whom thou hast aboard.
Boats. None that I more love than myself. You are a counsellor; if you can command these elements to silence, and work the peace of the present, we will not hand a rope more; use your authority. If you cannot, give thanks you have lived so long, and make yourself ready in your cabin for the mischance of the hour, if it so hap. - Cheerly, good hearts. - Out of our way, I say. [Exit.
Gon. I have great comfort from this fellow; his complexion is perfect gallows. methinks, he hath no drowning mark upon him! good fate, to his hanging; make the rope of his Stand fast, destiny our cable, for our own doth little advantage! If he be not born to be hanged, our case is miserable. [Exeunt.
Boats. Down with the topmast; yare; lower, lower; bring her to try with main course. A cry within.] A plague upon this howling! they are. louder than the weather, or our office
Re-enter SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, and GONZALO. Yet again? what do you here? Shall we give o'er and drown? Have you a mind to sink?
Seb. A plague o' your throat! you bawling, blasphemous, uncharitable dog!
2 Present instant.
Boats. Work you, then.
I should inform thee further. Lend thy hand, Ant. Hang, cur, hang! you insolent noise-maker, | And pluck my magic garment from me. — we are less afraid to be drowned than thou art.
Gon. I'll warrant him from drowning; though the ship were no stronger than a nut-shell.
Boats. Lay her a-hold, a-hold; set her two courses; off to sea again, lay her off.
- So; [Lays down his mantle. Lie there my art. Wipe thou thine eyes; have comfort.
The direful spectacle of the wreck, which touch'd
And rather like a dream than an assurance
Pro. Thou had'st, and more, Miranda: But how
That this lives in thy mind? What seest thou else SCENE II. The Island: before the Cell of If thou remember'st aught, ere thou cam'st here, In the dark backward and abysm of time?
Enter PROSPERO and MIRANDA.
How thou cam'st here, thou may'st.
Pro. Twelve years since,
But that I do not.
Mira. If by your art, my dearest father, you Miranda, twelve years since, thy father was
Put the wild waters in this roar, allay them:
O, woe the day!
The duke of Milan, and a prince of power.
A princess; -no worse issued.
By foul play, as thou
But blessedly holp hither.
Both, both, my girl: say'st, were we heav'd
O, my heart bleeds