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Some god of the island. Sitting on a bank,
fury, and my passion, With its sweet air.
Of his bones are coral made;
Nothing of him that doth fade,
A LOVER'S SPEECH.
ACT II. DESCRIPTION OF FERDINAND'S SWIMMING ASHORA
I saw him beat the surges under him,
A FINE APOSIOPESIS.
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.
SATIRE ON ENGLISH CURIOSITY.
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,
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,
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
O most dear mistress,
If you'll sit down,
I'll carry it to the pile.
No, precious creature:
It would become me
Poor worm' thou art infected;
You look wearily. Fer. No, noble mistress; 'tis fresh morning with
When you are by at night. I do beseech you,
Miranda:-0 my father,
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.
Besides yourself, to like of: but I prattle
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
Do you love me?
I am a fool,
Wherefore weep you?
My mistress, dearest
My husband then?