If now 'twere fit to do't:at the firft fight
They have chang'd eyes :-delicate Ariel,

[Afide to ARIEL. I'll fet thee free for this.-A word, good fir, I fear you have done yourself fome wrong:

a wordMira. Why fpeaks my father fo ungently? This Is the third man that I e'er faw; the first That e'er I figh'd for. Pity move my father To be inclin'd my way!

Fer. O, if a virgin,

And your affection not gone forth, I'll make you
The queen of Naples.

Pro. Soft, fir, one word more.

They are both in either's power: but this fwift bufi»

nefs

I muft uneafy make, left too light winning [Afide. Make the prize light.-One word more; I charge

thee

That thou attend me: thou doft here ufurp
The name thou ow'ft not; and haft put thyself.
Upon this ifland, as a fpy, to win it

From me the lord on't.

Fer. No, as I am a man.

Mira. There's nothing ill can dwell in fuch a temple : If the ill spirit have fo fair an house,

Good things will ftrive to dwell with't.

Pro. [To FERD.] Follow me

Speak not you for him; he's a traitor.-Come,
I'll manacle thy neck and feet together;
Sea-water fhalt thou drink; thy food fhall be
The fresh brook mufcles, withered roots, and husks
Wherein the acorn cradled: follow.

Fer. No;

I will refift fuch entertainment till

Mine enemy has more power.

[He draws, and 'is charm'd from moving.

Mira. O, dear father!

Make not too rafh a trial of him ;

He's gentle and not fearful.

Pro. What, I fay,

for

My foot my tutor?- -Put thy fword up, traitor; Who mak'it a fhew, but dar'ft not ftrike, thy con

science

Is fo poffefs'd with guilt: come from thy ward;

For I can here difarm thee with this stick,
And make thy weapon drop.

Mira. Befeech you, father!

Pro. Hence; hang not on my garment.
Mira. Sir, have pity;

I'll be his furety.

Pro. Silence: one word more

Shall make me chide thee, if not hate thee. What An advocate for an impoftor? hufh!

Thou think'ft there are no more fuch fhapes as he, Having feen but him and Caliban; foolish wench! To the most of men this is a Caliban,

And they to him are angels.

Mira. My affections

Are then moft humble: I have no ambition

To fee a goodlier man.

Pro. Come on; obey:

Thy nerves are in their infancy again,

And have no vigour in them.

Fer. So they are:

[TO FERDINAND.

My fpirits, as in a dream, are all bound up.
My father's lofs, the weaknefs which I feel,

The wreck of all my friends, or this man's threats,
To whom I am fubdu'd, were but light to me,
Might I but through my prifon once a day
Behold this maid: all corners elfe o' the earth
Let liberty make use of space enough

Have I, in fuch a prifon.

Thou hast done well, fine Ariel !-Follow me :

[To FERD. and MIRA.

Hark, what thou elfe fhalt do me.

Mira. Be of comfort;

My father's of a better nature, fir,

[To ARIEL.

Than he appears by fpeech; this is unwonted,

Which now came from him.

Pro. Thou shalt be as free

As mountain winds: but then exactly do

All points of my command.

Ari. To the fyllable.

Pro. [To FER.] Come, follow :-Speak not for him.

TO MIRA. Exe.

ACT II. SCENE I.

Another Part of the Ifland.

Enter ALONSO, SEBAS

TIAN, ANTHONIO, GONZALO, ADRIAN, FRANCISCO,

and others.

Gonzalo.

BESEECH you, fir, be merry; you have cause
(So have we all) of joy; for our escape
Is much beyond our lofs: Our hint of woe
Is common; every day, fome failor's wife,
The mafter of fome merchant, and the merchant,
Have just our theme of woe: but for the miracle,
I mean our prefervation, few in millions

Can fpeak like us: then wifely, good fir, weigh
Our forrow with our comfort.

Alon. Pr'ythee, peace.

Seb. He receives comfort like cold porridge.
Ant. The vifitor will not give him o'er fo.

Seb. Look, he's winding up the watch of his wit; by and by it will ftrike.

Gon. Sir,

Seb. One:

-Tell.

Gon. When every grief is entertain❜d, that's offer'd, Comes to the entertainer

Seb. A dollar.

Gon. Dolour comes to him, indeed; you have spoken truer than you purpos'd.

Seb. You have taken it wifelier than I meant you fhould.

Gon. Therefore, my lord,

Ant. Fie, what a fpend-thrift is he of his tongue! Alon. I pr'ythee, fpare,

Gon. Well, I have done: But yet

Seb. He will be talking.

Ant. Which of them, he, or Adrian, for a good wager,

firft begins to crow?

Seb. The old cock.

Ant. The cockrel.

Seb. Done; the wager?

Ant. A laughter.

Seb. A match.

Adr. Though this island feem to be defert,-
Seb. Ha, ha, ha!

Ant. So, you've pay'd.

Adr. Uninhabitable and almost inacceffible-
Seb. Yet,-

Adr. Yet,

Ant. He could not mifs't.

Adr. It must needs be of fubtle, tender, and delicate temperance.

Ant. Temperance was a delicate wench.

Seb. Ay, and a fubtle; as he most learnedly deliver❜d.
Adr. The air breathes upon us here moft fweetly.
Seb. As if it had lungs, and rotten ones.
Ant. Or, as 'twere perfum'd by a fen.

Gon. Here is every thing advantageous to life.
Ant. True; fave means to live.

Seb. Of that there's none, or little.

Gon. How lush and lufty the grafs looks! how green! Ant. The ground, indeed, is tawny.

Seb. With an eye of green in't.

Ant. He miffes not much.

Seb. No; he doth but mistake the truth totally. Gon. But the rarity of it is (which is, indeed, almost beyond credit)—

Seb. As many vouch'd rarities are.

Gon. That our garments being, as they were, drench'd in the fea, hold notwithstanding their freshnefs and glof fes, being rather new-dy'd than stain'd with falt water. Ant. If but one of his pockets could fpeak, would. it not fay, he lies?

Seb. Ay, or very falfely pocket up his report.

Gon. Methinks our garments are now as fresh as when we put them on first in Africk, at the marriage of the king's fair daughter, Claribel, to the king of Tunis.

Seb. 'Twas a sweet marriage, and we profper well in our return.

Adr. Tunis was never grac'd before with such a paragon to their queen.

Gon. Not fince widow Dido's time.

Ant. Widow? a pox o' that! How came that widow in? Widow Dido!

Seb. What if he had said widower Æneas too? good lord, how you take it!

Adr. Widow Dido, faid you? you make me ftudy of that, fhe was of Carthage, not of Tunis.

Gon. This Tunis, fir, was Carthage.
Adr. Carthage !

Gon. I affure you, Carthage.

Ant. His word is more than the miraculous harp. Seb. He hath rais'd the wall, and houses too. Ant. What impoffible matter will he make easy next ? Seb. I think he will carry this ifland home in his pock et, and give it his fon for an apple.

Ant. And, fowing the kernels of it in the fea, bring forth more islands.

Gon. Ay?

Ant. Why, in good time.

Gon. Sir, we were talking, that our garments feem now as fresh as when we were at Tunis at the marriage of your daughter, who is now queen.

Ant. And the rareft that e'er came there.
Seb. 'Bate, I befeech you, widow Dido.
Ant. O, widow Dido? ay, widow Dido.

Gon. Is not my doublet, fir, as fresh as the first day I wore it? I mean, in a fort.

Ant. That fort was well fish'd for.

Gon. When I wore it at your daughter's marriage?
Alon. You cram thefe words into mine ears, against
The ftomach of my fense: 'Would I had never
Married my daughter there! for, coming thence,
My fon is loft; and, in my rate, she too,
Who is fo far from Italy remov'd,

I ne'er again fhall fee her. O thou, mine heir
Of Naples and of Milan, what strange fish
Hath made his meal on thee?

Fran. Sir, he may live ;

I saw him beat the furges under him,

And ride upon their backs; he trod the water,
Whose enmity he flung afide, and breafted

The furge moft fwoln that met him his bold head
'Bove the contentious waves, he kept, and oar'd
Himself with his good arms in lufty ftroke

To the fhore, that o'er his wave-worn bafis bow'd
As ftooping to relieve him: I not doubt
He came alive to land.

Alon. No, no, he's gone.

Seb. Sir, you may thank yourself for this great lofs,