Who would believe that there were mountaineers

Dew-lapp'd like bulls, whose throats had hanging at 'em
Wallets of flesh? 10 or that there were such men

Whose heads stood in their breasts? 11 which now we find,
Each putter-out of one for five 12 will bring us

Thunder and lightning. Enter ARIEL, like a harpy; claps

his wings upon the table; and, by a quaint device, the banquet vanishes.

Ari. You are three men of sin, whom Destiny That hath to 13 instrument this lower world

And what is in't the never-surfeited sea

Hath caused to belch up; yea, and on this island
Where man doth not inhabit; you 'mongst men
Being most unfit to live. I've made you mad ;
And even with such-like valour men hang and drown

10 In the Alpine and other mountainous regions are many well-known cases of goitre that answer to this description. Probably, in the Poet's time, some such had been seen by travellers, but not understood.

11 These were probably the same that Othello speaks of: "The Anthropophagi, and men whose heads do grow beneath their shoulders." Also in Holland's Pliny: "The Blemmyi, by report, have no heads, but mouth and eyes both in their breast."

12 A sort of inverted life-insurance was practised by travellers in Shakespeare's time. Before going abroad they put out a sum of money, for which they were to receive two, three, four, or even five times the amount upon their return; the rate being according to the supposed danger of the expedition. Of course the sum put out fell to the depositary, in case the putterout did not return. So in Ben Jonson's Every Man out of his Humour, ii. I: "I am determined to put forth some five thousand pound, to be paid me five for one, upon the return of myself and wife, and my dog, from the Turk's Court in Constantinople."

་་

13 To, again, with the force of for or as. See page 41, note 9.

Their proper selves. [ALON., SEBAS., &c., draw their swords. You fools! I and my fellows

Are ministers of Fate: the elements,

Of whom your swords are temper'd, may as well
Wound the loud winds, or with bemock'd-at stabs
Kill the still-closing waters, 14 as diminish

One dowle 15 that's in my plume: my fellow-ministers
Are like invulnerable. If you could hurt,

Your swords are now too massy for your strengths,

And will not be uplifted.

But remember,

For that's my business to you,

- that you three

From Milan did supplant good Prospero ;

Exposed unto the sea, which hath requit it,16
Him and his innocent child: for which foul deed
The powers, delaying, not forgetting, have
Incensed the seas and shores, yea, all the creatures,
Against your peace. Thee of thy son, Alonso,
They have bereft ; and do pronounce, by me,
Lingering perdition-worse than any death.

You and your ways; whose wrath to guard you from,

Which here, in this most desolate isle, else falls

Upon your heads,

- is nothing but heart's-sorrow

And a clear life ensuing.17

He vanishes in thunder; then, to soft music, enter the Shapes again, and dance with mocks and mows, and carry out the table.

Pros. [Aside.] Bravely the figure of this harpy hast thou

14 Waters that continually close over cuts made in them, and leave no trace thereof. See page 25, note 60.

15 Dowle and down are said to have been equivalent. Here dowle seems rather to mean a single particle or thread of downe.

16 Requit for requited, like others noted before. See page 21, note 42. 17" From whose wrath nothing can shield or deliver you but heart-felt repentance and an amended life, or doing works meet for repentance." Whose refers to powers, in the sixth line before.

Perform'd, my Ariel; a grace it had, devouring:
Of my instruction hast thou nothing bated
In what thou hadst to say: so, with good life,

And observation strange,18

my meaner ministers

Their several kinds have done.19 My high charms work,
And these mine enemies are all knit

up

In their distractions: they now are in my power;

And in these fits I leave them, while I visit

Young Ferdinand, who they suppose is drown'd, —
And his and my loved darling.

[Exit from above. Gonza. I' the name of something holy, sir, why stand you In this strange stare?

Alon.
O, it is monstrous, monstrous !
Methought the billows spoke, and told me of it;
The winds did sing it to me; and the thunder,
That deep and dreadful organ-pipe, pronounced
The name of Prosper: it did bass my trespass.
Therefore my son i' the ooze is bedded; and
I'll seek him deeper than e'er plummet sounded,
And with him there lie mudded.

Sebas.

I'll fight their legions o'er.

Anto.

[Exit.

But one fiend at a time,

I'll be thy second.

[Exeunt SEBAS. and ANTO.

Gonza. All three of them are desperate: their great guilt, Like poison given to work a long time after,20

18 The sense appears to be, "with all the truth of life itself, and with rare observance of the proprieties of action."

19 To do one's kind is to act out one's nature, or act according to one's nature; though in this case the nature is an assumed one, that is, a part. So, in Antony and Cleopatra, the rustic, speaking of the asp, says, "the worm will do his kind." Also in the phrase, "The cat will after kind."

20 The natives of Africa have been supposed to possess the secret how to temper poisons with such art as not to operate till several years after they were administered.

Now gins to bite the spirits. I do beseech you,
That are of suppler joints, follow them swiftly,
And hinder them from what this ecstasy 21

Enter PROSPERO, FERDINAND, and MIRANDA.

Pros. If I have too austerely punish'd you,
Your compensation1 makes amends; for I
Have given you here a thread of mine own life,2
Or that for which I live; who once again
I tender to thy hand: all thy vexations
Were but my trials of thy love, and thou

Hast strangely stood the test: here, afore Heaven,
I ratify this my rich gift. O Ferdinand,

Do not smile at me that I boast her off,

For thou shalt find she will outstrip all praise,
And make it halt behind her.

Ferd.

Against an oracle.

I do believe it

Pros. Then, as my gift, and thine own acquisition Worthily purchased, take my daughter: but,

21 Shakespeare uses ecstasy for any alienation of mind, a fit, or madness.

1 Your compensation is the compensation you receive. Shakespeare has many instances of like construction.

2 "Thread of mine own life" probably means about the same as "my very heart-strings"; strings the breaking of which spills the life.

If thou dost break her virgin-knot 3 before
All sanctimonious 4 ceremonies may
With full and holy rite be minister'd,
No sweet aspersion 5 shall the Heavens let fall
To make this contract grow; but barren hate,
Sour-eyed disdain, and discord, shall bestrew
The union of your bed with weeds so loathly 6
That you shall hate it both: therefore take heed,
As Hymen's lamps shall light you.

Ferd.

As I hope For quiet days, fair issue, and long life,

With such love as 'tis now, the murkiest even,

The most opportune place, the strong'st suggestion 7
Our worser genius can, shall never melt

Mine honour into lust; to take away

The edge of that day's celebration,

When I shall think, or Phoebus' steeds are founder'd,
Or Night kept chain'd below.

Fairly spoke.

Pros.
Sit, then, and talk with her; she is thine own.
What, Ariel! my industrious servant, Ariel!

3 Alluding, no doubt, to the zone or sacred girdle which the old Romans used as the symbol and safeguard of maiden honour.

4 Sanctimonious, here, is sacred or religious. The marriage ritual was supposed to have something of consecrating virtue in it.

5 Aspersion in its primitive sense of sprinkling, as with genial rain or Here, again, as also just after, shall for will.

dew.

6 Not with wholesome flowers, such as the bridal bed was wont to be decked with, but with loathsome weeds.

7 Suggestion, again, for temptation. See page 52, note 54.

8 Genius, spirit, and angel were used indifferently for what we should call a man's worser or better self. The Edinburgh Review, July, 1869, has the following: "In mediæval theology, the rational soul is an angel, the lowest in the hierarchy for being clothed for a time in the perishing vesture of the body. But it is not necessarily an angel of light. It may be a good or evil genius, a guardian angel or a fallen spirit, a demon of light or darkness." See, also, Julius Cæsar, ii. 1.