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Will cry it o'er again ; it is a hint
That wrings mine eyes to’t.
Pro. Hear a little further,
And then I'll bring thee to the present business
Which now's upon's, without the which this story
Were most impertinent.
Mira. Why did they not
That hour destroy us ?
Pro. Well demanded, wench;
My tale provokes that question. They durft not,
So dear the love my people bore me, set
A mark so bloody on the business; but
With colours fairer painted their foul ends.
In few, they hurry'd us aboard a bark,
Bore us some leagues to sea, where they prepar’d
A rotten carcass of a boat, not rigg'd,
Nor tackle, nor fail, nor mast; the very
Instinctively had quit it: there they hoist us
to th' sea that roar’d to us; to sigh To winds, whose pity sighing back again Did us but loving wrong.
Mira. Alack ! what trouble
Was I then to you?
Pro. O! a cherubim
Thou wast that did preserve me: thou didft smile
Infused with a fortitude from heav'n;
(When I have brack'd the sea with drops full falt,
Under my burthen groan'd) which rais’d in me
An undergoing stomach, to bear
up Against what should ensue.
Mira. How came we a-shore?
Pro. By providence divine.
Some food we had, and some fresh water, that
A noble Neapolitan, Gonzalo,
Out of his charity (being then appointed
Master of this design) did give us, with
Rich garments, linnens, stuffs, and neceffaries,
Which since have steeded much. So of his gentleness,
Knowing I lov’d my books, he furnish'd me
From my own library, with volumes that
I prize above my dukedom.
Mira. Would I might
But ever see that man!
Pro. Now I arise :
Sit still, and hear the last of our sea-sorrow.
Here in this island we arriv’d, and here
Have I, thy school-master, made thee more profit
Than other princes can, that have more time
For vainer hours, and tutors not so careful.
Mira. Heav'ns thank you for’t! And now I pray you, fir,
(For still’tis beating in my mind) your reason
For raising this sea-storm
Pro. Know thus far forth;
By accident most strange bountiful fortune
(Now my dear lady) hath mine enemies
Brought to this shore: and by my prescience
I find my zenith doth depend upon
A most auspicious star, whose influence
If now I court not, but omit, my fortunes
Will ever after droop. ---- Here cease more questions,
Thou art inclin'd to sleep. 'Tis a good dulness,
And give it way; I know thou canst not chuse.
Come away, servant, come; I'm ready now:
Approach, my Ariel; come.
Ari. All hail, great master! grave sir, hail! I come
To answer thy best pleasure. Be't to fly;
To swim; to dive into the fire; to ride
On the curl'd clouds: to thy strong bidding task
Ariel and all his qualities.
Pro. Hast thou, spirit,
Perform’d to point the tempest that I bad thee?
I boarded the king's ship: now on the beak,
Now in the waste, the deck, in every cabin,
I Alam'd amazement. Sometimes I'd divide,
And burn in many places; on the top-mast,
The yards, and bolt-sprit
, would I flame distinctly,
Then meet and join. Jove's lightnings, the precursers
Of dreadful thunder-claps, more momentary
And fight out-running were not; the fire and cracks
Of sulphurous roaring the most mighty Neptune
Seem'd to besiege, and make his bold waves tremble,
Yea, his dread trident shake.
Pro. That's my brave spirit !
Who was so firm, so constant, that this coil
Would not infect his reason?
Ari. Not a soul
But felt a fever of the mind, and plaid
Some tricks of desperation : all but mariners
Plung’d in the foaming brine, and quit the vessel,
Then all a-fire with me: the king's son Ferdinand
With hair up-staring (then like reeds, not hair)
Was the first man that leap'd; cry’d, hell is empty,
And all the devils are here.
Pro. Why that's my spirit !
But was not this nigh shore ?
Ari. Close by, my master.
Pro. But are they, Ariel, safe?
Ari. Not a hair perish’d:
On their sustaining garments not a blemish,
But fresher than before. And as thou badst me,
In troops I have dispers’d them 'bout the isle:
The king's son have I landed by himself,
Whom I left cooling of the air with fighs
In an odd angle of the isle, and fitting,
His arms in this fad knot.
Pro. Of the king's ship
The mariners, say how thou hast dispos’d,
And all the rest o'th'fleet?
Ari. Safely in harbour
Is the king's ship; in the deep nook, where once
Thou call’dst me up at midnight, to fetch dew
From the still-vext Bermoothes, there she's hid:
The mariners all under hatches stow'd,
Whom with a charm join’d to their suffered labour,
I've left asleep; and for the rest o’th’Aleet
(Which I dispers’d) they all have met again,
And are upon the Mediterranean Aote,
Bound sadly home for Naples,
Supposing that they faw the king's ship wreck'd,
And his great person perish.
Pro. Ariel, thy charge
Exactly is perform’d; but there's more work:
What is the time o'th' day?
Ari. Past the mid season.
Pro. At least two glasses: the time 'twixt fix and now
Must by us both be spent most preciously.
Ari. Is there more toil? since thou dost give me pains,
Let me remember thee what thou hast promis’d,
Which is not yet perform’d me.
Pro. How now? moody?
What is't thou canst demand ?
Ari. My liberty.
Pro. Before the time be out? no more.
Ari. I pr’ythee,
Remember I have done thee worthy service,
(a) This is the Spanish pronunciation of Bermudas : the account of which island in Purchas's Pilgrimage is, that it was call'd the land of Devils and the inchanted Inand, these names being given it from the monstrous tempefts which there have been often fustain’d. And again, speaking of the whole cluster of islands with which the great one is surrounded, he faith, The islands seem rent with tempests of thunder, lightning and rain, which threaten in time to devour them all.
Told thee no lies, made no mistakings, serv’d
Without or grudge or grumblings; thou didst promise
To bate me a
year. Pro. Dost thou forget From what a torment I did free thee?
Pro. Thou dost; and think'st it much to tread the ooze
Of the salt deep;
To run upon the sharp wind of the north ;
To do me business in the veins o'th' earth,
When it is bak'd with frost.
Ari. I do not, fir.
Pro. Thou ly’st, malignant thing: hast thou forgot
The foul witch Sycorax, who with age and envy
into a hoop? hast thou forgot her?
Ari. No, sir.
Pro. Thou hast: where was she born? speak; tell me, say,
Ari. Sir, in Argier.
Pro. Oh, was she so? I must
Once in a month recount what thou haft been,
Which thou forget'st. This damn’d witch Sycorax,
For mischiefs manifold, sorceries too terrible
To enter human hearing, from Argier,
Thou know'st, was banish’d: for one thing she did
They would not take her life. Is this not true ?
Ari. Ay, fir.
Pro. This blue-ey'd hag was hither brought with child,
And here was left by th' failors; thou my slave,
As thou report'st thy self, wast then her servant.
And, for thou wast a spirit too delicate
To act her earthly and abhorr'd commands,
Refusing her grand hests, she did confine thee,
By help of her more potent ministers,
And in her most unmitigable rage,
Into a cloven pine; within which rift
Imprison'd, thou didst painfully remain