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I fear, you have done yourself some wrong: a word.
MIRA. Why speaks my father so ungently? This
Is the third man that e'er I saw; the first

Pity move my father

That e'er I sigh'd for.
To be inclin'd my way!
O, if a virgin,
And your affection not gone forth, I'll make
The Queen of Naples..


Soft, Sir; one word more.

[aside.] They are both in either's powers: but this swift business

That thou attend me: thou dost here usurp

The name thou ow'st not; and hast put thyself

Upon this Island, as a spy, to win it

From me, the lord on 't.


I must uneasy make, lest too light winning

Make the prize light. [to FERD.] One word more: I charge thee,

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No, as I am a man.
MIRA. There's nothing ill can dwell in such a temple:

If the ill spirit have so fair a house,

Good things will strive to dwell with 't.
Follow me. [to FERD.
Speak not you for him: he's a traitor. Come.
I'll manacle thy neck and feet together;
Sea-water shalt thou drink, thy food shall be
The fresh-brook mussels, wither'd roots, and husks,
Wherein the acorn cradled. Follow.



[He draws, and is charmed from moving. O dear father, Make not too rash a trial of him, for

1 confute.

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Sc. II

He's gentle, and not fearful.1


What, I say,

My child my tutor! Put thy sword up, traitor,
Who mak'st a show, but dar'st not strike, thy con-


Is so possess'd with guilt! Come from thy ward;2
For I can here disarm thee with this stick,

And make thy weapon drop.

Beseech you, father!
PRO. Hence; hang not on my garments.

Sir, have pity;

I'll be his surety.


Silence: one word more

Shall make me chide thee, if not hate thee. What!
An advocate for an impostor? Hush!

Thou think'st there are no more such shapes as he,
Having seen but him and Caliban. Foolish wench!
To the most of men this is a Caliban,

And they to him are angels.
My affections
Are then most humble: I have no ambition
To see a goodlier man.
PRO. [to FERD.]

Come on; obey:
Thy nerves are in their infancy again,
And have no vigour in them.

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So they are:
My spirits, as in a dream, are all bound up.
My father's loss, the weakness which I feel,

The wrack of all my friends, nor 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.
PRO. [aside.]
It works. [to FERD.] Come on.—
[aside.] Thou hast done well, fine Ariel!-Follow
[to FERD. and MIRA.
[to ARIEL.] Hark, what thou else shalt do me.


Be of comfort;

My father's of a better nature, Sir,

1 high-hearted and not cowardly.

2 defence.



Than he appears by speech: this is unwonted,
Which now came from him.

PRO. [to ARIEL.]

Thou shalt be as free 500 As mountain winds: but then exactly do

All points of my command.


To the syllable.

PRO. [to FERD. and MIRA.] Come, follow: speak not for him.



SCENE I. Another part of the Island.

ADRIAN, FRANCISCO, and others.

GON. Beseech you, Sir, be merry: you have cause
(So have we all) of joy; for our escape

Is much beyond our loss. Our hint of woe
Is common: every day, some sailor's wife,

The masters of some merchant, and the merchant
Have just our theme of woe: but for the miracle,
I mean our preservation, few in millions

Can speak like us: then wisely, good Sir, weigh
Our sorrow with our comfort.
Pr'ythee, peace.
SEB. He receives comfort like cold porridge.
ANT. The visitor1 will not give him o'er so.

SEB. Look, he's winding up the watch of his wit; by

and by it will strike.

GON. Sir

SEB. One:tell.2

GON. When every grief is entertain'd that 's offer'd,
Comes to the entertainer-


A dollar.

GON. Dolour comes to him, indeed: you have spoken truer than you purposed.

SEB. You have taken it wiselier than I meant you should

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Sc. I

ANT. Fie, what a spendthrift is he of his tongue!
ALON. I pr'ythee, spare-

GON. Well, I have done. But yet

SEB. He will be talking.

ANT. Which, of he or Adrian, for a good wager, first

begins to crow?

SEB. The old cock.

ANT. The cockrel.

SEB. Done. The wager?

ANT. A laughter.

SEB. A match.

ADR. Though this Island seem to be desert

SEB. Ha, ha, ha!

ANT. So, you're pay'd

ADR. Uninhabitable, and almost inaccessible—

SEB. Yet

ADR. Yet

ANT. He could not miss it.

ADR. It must needs be of subtle, tender, and delicate

ANT. Temperance was a delicate wench.

SEB. Ay, and a subtle; as he most learnedly delivered.
ADR. The air breathes upon us here most sweetly.

SEB. As if it had lungs, and rotten ones.

ANT. Or as 'twere perfum'd by a fen.

GON. Here is every thing advantageous to life.

ANT. True; save means to live.

SEB. Of that there's none, or little.
GON. How lush and lusty the grass looks! how
looks! how green!
ANT. The ground, indeed, is tawny.

SEB. With an eye of green in 't.

ANT. He misses not much.


1 temperature.

SEB. No; he doth but mistake the truth totally.

GON. But the rarity of it is (which is indeed almost

beyond credit)—

SEB. As many vouch'd rarities are

GON. That our garments, being, as they were, drench'd
in the sea, hold, notwithstanding, their freshness, and
glosses; being rather new dy'd than stain'd with salt



2 tinge.



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ANT. If but one of his pockets could speak, would it not ACT II say he lies?

Sc. I

SEB. Ay, or very falsely pocket up his report.

GON. Methinks, our garments are now as fresh as when we put them on first in Africk, at the marriage of the King's fair daughter, Claribel, to the King of


SEB. "Twas a sweet marriage, and we prosper well in our


ADR. Tunis was never grac'd before with such a paragon to their Queen.

GON. Not since widow Dido's time.

ANT. Widow? a pox o' that! How came that widow in? widow Dido!

SEB. What if he had said widower Æneas too? good
Lord, how you take it!

ADR. Widow Dido, said you? you make me study of
that she was of Carthage, not, of Tunis.


GON. This Tunis, Sir, was Carthage.

ADR. Carthage?

GON. I assure you, Carthage.

ANT. His word is more than the miraculous harp.

SEB. He hath rais'd the wall, and houses too.


ANT. What impossible matter will he make easy next?

SEB. I think he will carry this Island home in his pocket, and give it his son for an apple.

ANT. And sowing the kernels of it in the sea, bring forth more islands.

GON. Ay.

ANT. Why, in good time.

GON. Sir, we were talking that our garments seem now

as fresh as when we were at Tunis at the marriage of your daughter, who is now Queen.

ANT. And the rarest that e'er came there.

wore it? I mean, in a sort.

ANT. That, sort, was well fish'd for.

GON. When I wore it at your daughter's marriage?

SEB. 'Bate, I beseech you, widow Dido.

ANT. O, widow Dido! ay, widow Dido.

GON. Is not, Sir, my doublet as fresh as the first day I



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