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Some god of the island. Sitting on a bank,
Weeping again the king my father's wreck.
This music crept by me upon the waters;
Allaying both their

fury, and my passion, With its sweet air.

Full fathom five thy father lies;

Of his bones are coral made;
Those are pearls, that were his eyes:

Nothing of him that doth fade,
But doth suffer a sea-change
Into something rich and strange.
Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell:
Hark! now I hear them,—ding-dong, bell.

My spirits, as in a dream, are all bound up.
My father's loss, the weakness which I feel,
The wreck of all my friends, or this man's threats,
To whom I am subdued, are but light to me,
Might I but through my prison once a day
Behold this maid: all corners else o' the earth
Let liberty make use of; space enough
Have I in such a prison.

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I saw him beat the surges under him,
And ride upon their backs; he trod the water,
Whose enmity he flung aside, and breasted
The surge most swoln that met him; his bold head
'Bove the contentious waves he kept, and oar'd
Himself with his good arms in lusty stroke
To the shore, that o'er his wave-worn basis bow'd.
As stooping to relieve him: I not doubt
He came alive to land.

Do not omit the heavy offer of it;
It seldom visits sorrow; when it doth,
It is a comforter.


They fell together all, as by consent; They dropp'd, as by a thunder-stroke. What might, Worthy Sebastian?-0, what might?--No more;And yet, methinks, I see it in thy face, What thou should'st be: the occasion speaks theo:

and My strong imagination sees a crown Dropping upon thy head.

CALIBAN'S CORSES. All the infections that the sun sucks up From bogs, fens, flats, on Prospero fall, and make him By inch-meal a disease! His spirits hear me, And yet I needs must curse. But they'll nor pinch, Fright me with urchin shows, pitch me i' the mire, Nor lead me, like a fire-brand, in the dark Out of my way, unless he bid them; but For every trifle are they set upon me: Sometimes like apes, that moe* and chatter at me, And after, bite me; then like hedge-hogs, which Lie tumbling in my bare-foot way, and mount Their pricks at my foot-fall; sometime am I All wound with adders, who, with cloven tongues, Do hiss me into madness: Lo! now! lo! Here comes a spirit of his; and to torment me, For bringing wood in slowly; I'll fall flat: Perchance he will not mind me.


Were I in England now (as once I was,) and had but this fish painted, not a holiday-fool there but would give a piece of silver; there would this monster make a man; any strange beast there makes a man: when they will not give a doit to relieve a lame beggar, they will lay out ten to see a dead Indian

CALIBAN'S PROMISES. I'll show thee the best springs; .I'll pluck thee ber

ries; I'll fish for thee, and get thee wood enough A plague upon the tyrant that I serve!

• Make mouths.

P'll bear him no more sticks, but follow thee,
Thou wond'rous man.
I prythee, let me bring thee where crabs grow;
And'l with my long nails will dig thee pig-nuts;
Show thee a jay's nest, and instruct thee how
To snare the nimble marmozet; I'll bring thee
To clust'ring filberds, and sometimes I'll get thee
Young sea-mells* from the rock.



There be some sports are painful; but 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 'tis odious; but The mistress which I serve, quickens what's dead, and makes my labours pleasures: 0, she is Ten times more gentle than her father's crabbed; And he's composed 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 base.

ness Had ne'er like executor. I forget: But these sweet thoughts do even refresh my

labours Most busy-less, when I do it.

Enter MIRANDA; and PROSPERO at a distance.

Mira. Alas, now! pray you,
Work not so hard: I would the lightning had

up. those logs, that you are enjoined to pile Pray, sit it down, and rest you: when this burns,

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

If you'll sit down,
I'll bear your logs the while: Pray give me that

• Sea-gulls.

I'll carry it to the pile.

No, precious creature:
I had rather crack my sinews, break my back,
Than you should such dishonour undergo,
While I sit lazy by.

It would become me
As well as it does you: and I should do it
With much more ease; for my good will is to it,
And yours against.

Poor worm' thou art infected;
This visitation shows it.

You look wearily. Fer. No, noble mistress; 'tis fresh morning with


When you are by at night. I do beseech you,
(Chiefly, that I might set it in your prayers,)
What is your name?

Miranda:-0 my father,
I have broke your hest* to say so!

Admir'd Miranda
Indeed the top of admiration; worth
What's dearest to the world!' Full many a lady
I have ey'd 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,t
And put it to the foil: But you,


you, So persect and so peerless, are created of every creature's best. Mira.

I do not know 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,

* Command. + Own'd.

I am,

Besides yourself, to like of: but I prattle
Something too wildly, and my father's precepts
Therein forget.

in my condition, A prince, Miranda; I do think, a king: (I would, not so!) and would no more enduro This wooden slavery, than I would suffer The flesh-fly blow my mouth, -Hear my sou


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.

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

I am a fool,
To weep at what I am glad of.

Fair encounter
Of too most rare affections! Heaven s rain grace
On that which breeds between them!

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;
Ind 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.

My mistress, dearest
And I thus humble ever.

My husband then?
Fer. Ay, with a heart as willing

* Whatsoever


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