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To me inveterate, hearkens my brother's suit:
Which was, that he, in lieu o' the premises

Of homage and I know not how much tribute,
Should presently extirpate me and mine
Out of the Dukedom; and confer fair Milan,
With all the honours, on my brother: whereon,
A treacherous army levied, one mid-night
Fated to the purpose, did Antonio open
The gates of Milan, and, i' the dead of darkness,
The ministers for the purpose hurried thence
Me and thy crying self.


Alack, for pity!

I, not rememb'ring how I cried it then,
Will cry it o'er again: it is a hint 2

That wrings mine eyes to 't.


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.


That hour destroy us?



Wherefore did they not

Well demanded, wench:

Dear, they durst

My tale provokes that question.


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 hurried 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, sail, nor mast; the very rats
Instinctively had quit it; there they hoist us,
To cry to the sea that roar'd to us; to sigh

To the winds, whose pity, sighing back again,
Did us but loving wrong.

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Thou wast, that did preserve me! Thou didst smile,

Infused with a fortitude from heaven,

When I have deck'd' the sea with drops full salt;

Under my burden groan'd; which rais'd in me

An undergoing stomach, to bear up

Against what should ensue.


PRO. By Providence divine,

How came we ashore?

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, linens, stuffs, and necessaries,

Which since have steaded much; so, of his gentle

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Now I arise: [resumes his robe.


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 princesses can, that have more time

For vainer hours, and tutors not so careful.
MIRA. Heavens thank you for 't! And now, I pray
you, Sir

(For still 'tis beating in my mind), your reason

For raising this sea-storm?


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,

1 obscure; perhaps 'degg'd,' i.e. sprinkled.


Will ever after droop. Here cease more questions:
Thou art inclin❜d to sleep; 'tis a good dulness,

And give it way: [aside.] I know thou canst not

[MIRANDA sleeps.

Come away, servant, come! I am ready now:
Approach, my Ariel; come!

Enter ARIEL.

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 quality.1

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Perform'd to point the Tempest that I bade thee?
ARI. To every article.

I boarded the King's ship: now on the beak,
Now in the waist, the deck, in every cabin,

I flam'd amazement; sometimes, I'd divide,



And burn in many places: on the top-mast,
The yards, and bowsprit, would I flame distinctly,
Then meet, and join. Jove's lightnings, the precursors
O' the dreadful thunder-claps, more momentary
And sight-outrunning 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.


My brave Spirit!

Who was so firm, so constant, that this coil

Would not infect his reason?


Not a soul

But felt a fever of the mad, and play'd
Some tricks of desperation. All but the 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; cried, Hell is empty,
And all the devils are here.


But was not this nigh shore?

Why, that's my Spirit!


Sc. II

1 fellowship.

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On their unstaining garments not a blemish,
But fresher than before: and as thou bad'st 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 sighs
In an odd angle of the Isle, and sitting,
His arms in this sad knot.


Of the King's ship

Safely in harbour

The mariners say how thou hast dispos'd,
And all the rest o' the fleet?


Is the King's ship: in the deep nook, where once
Thou call'dst me up at midnight to fetch dew
From the still-vex'd Bermoothes, there she's hid;
The mariners all under hatches stow'd;
Who, with a charm join'd to their suffer'd labour,
I have left asleep; and for the rest o' the fleet,
Which I dispers'd, they all have met again,
And are upon the Mediterranean flote1

Bound sadly home for Naples;

Supposing that they saw the King's ship wrack'd,
And his great person perish.


Ariel, thy charge

Exactly is perform'd; but there's more work:

What is the time o' the day?


At least two glasses.2



Past the mid season


PRO. The time 'twixt six 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.

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Remember, I have done thee worthy service;
Told thee no lies, made no mistakings, serv'd
Without or grudge or grumblings: thou didst promise

To bate me a full year.

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PRO. Thou dost; and think'st it much, to tread the ooze

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PRO. Thou liest, malignant thing! Hast thou forgot
The foul witch, Sycorax, who with age and envy
Was grown into a hoop-hast thou forgot her?
ARI. No, Sir.

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Once in a month, recount what thou hast been,

Which thou forgett'st. This damn'd witch, Sycorax,
For mischiefs manifold and sorceries 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 not this true?
ARI. Ay, Sir.

PRO. This blue-ey'd hag was hither brought with child,
And here was left by the sailors. Thou, my slave,
As thou report'st thyself, wast then her servant,
And, for thou wast a Spirit too delicate

To act her earthy 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
within which space she died,
And left thee there; where thou didst vent thy groans

A dozen years;


Sc. II

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