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Solemn and strange music; and PROSPERO on the

top, invisible. Enter several strange SHAPES,
bringing in a banquet; and dance about it with

gentle actions of salutations; and inviting the
KING, etc., to eat, they depart

ALONSO. What harmony is this? My good friends, hark!
GONZALO. Marvellous sweet music!

ALONSO. Give us kind keepers, heavens! What were these?
SEBASTIAN. A living drollery. Now I will believe

That there are unicorns; that in Arabia
There is one tree, the phoenix' throne, one phoenix

At this hour reigning-there.
ANTONIO. I'll believe both;

And what does else want credit, come to me,
And I'll be sworn 'tis true; travellers ne'er did lie,

Though fools at home condemn 'em.
GONZALO. If in Naples

I should report this now, would they believe me?
If I should say, I saw such islanders,

For certes these are people of the island,
Who though they are of monstrous shape yet, note,

Their manners are more gentle-kind than of
Our human generation you shall find

Many, nay, almost any.
PROSPERO. [Aside] Honest lord,

Thou hast said well; for some of you there present
Are worse than devils.

ALONSO. I cannot too much muse
Such shapes, such gesture, and such sound, expressing,

Although they want the use of tongue, a kind
Of excellent dumb discourse.

PROSPERO. [Aside] Praise in departing.
FRANCISCO. They vanish'd strangely.

SEBASTIAN. No matter, since
They have left their viands behind; for we have stomachs.

Will't please you taste of what is here?
ALONSO. Not I.

GONZALO. Faith, sir, you need not fear. When we were boys,
Who would believe that there were mountaineers,

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

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

Good warrant of.
ALONSO. I will stand to, and feed,

Although my last; no matter, since I feel
The best is past. Brother, my lord the Duke,

Stand to, and do as we.
Thunder and lightning. Enter ARIEL, like a harpy;

claps his wings upon the table; and, with a quaint
device, the banquet vanishes

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

And what is in't, the never-surfeited sea
Hath caus'd to belch up you; and on this island

Where man doth not inhabit-you 'mongst men
Being most unfit to live. I have made you mad;

And even with such-like valour men hang and drown
Their proper selves.

[ALONSO, SEBASTIAN etc., 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, as diminish

One dowle 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;

Expos'd unto the sea, which hath requit it,
Him, and his innocent child; for which foul deed

The pow'rs, delaying, not forgetting, have
Incens'd the seas and shores, yea, all the creatures,

Against your peace. Thee of thy son, Alonso,
They have bereft; and do pronounce by me

Ling'ring perdition, worse than any death
Can be at once, shall step by step attend

You and your ways; whose wraths 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.

He vanishes in thunder; then, to soft music, enter
the SHAPES again, and dance, with mocks and mows,

and carrying out the table
PROSPERO. Bravely the figure of this harpy hast thou

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, my meaner ministers

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

In their distractions. They now are in my pow'r;
And in these fits I leave them, while I visit

Young Ferdinand, whom they suppose is drown'd,
And his and mine lov'd darling. Exit above

GONZALO. I' th' name of something holy, sir, why stand you
In this strange stare?

ALONSO. 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, pronounc'd

The name of Prosper; it did bass my trespass.
Therefore my son i' th' ooze is bedded; and

I'll seek him deeper than e'er plummet sounded,
And with him there lie mudded. Exit

SEBASTIAN. But one fiend at a time,
I'll fight their legions o'er.

ANTONIO. I'll be thy second. Exeunt SEBASTIAN and ANTONIO
GONZALO. All three of them are desperate; their great guilt,

Like poison given to work a great time after,
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

May now provoke them to.
ADRIAN. Follow, I pray you. Exeunt

ACT IV. SCENE 1
Before PROSPERO'S cell

Enter PROSPERO, FERDINAND, and MIRANDA
PROSPERO. If I have too austerely punish'd you,

Your compensation makes amends; for
Have given you here a third of mine own life,

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.

FERDINAND. I do believe it
Against an oracle.

PROSPERO. Then, as my gift, and thine own acquisition
Wort'hily purchas'd, take my daughter. But

If thou dost break her virgin-knot before
All sanctimonious ceremonies may

With full and holy rite be minist'red,
No sweet aspersion shall the heavens let fall

To make this contract grow; but barren hate,
Sour-ey'd disdain, and discord, shall bestrew

The union of your bed with weeds so loathly
That you shall hate it both. Therefore take heed,

As Hymen's lamps shall light you.
FERDINAND. As I hope

For quiet days, fair issue, and long life,
With such love as 'tis now, the murkiest den,

The most opportune place, the strong'st suggestion
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.

PROSPERO. Fairly spoke.
Sit, then, and talk with her; she is thine own.

What, Ariel! my industrious servant, Ariel!
Enter ARIEL

ARIEL. What would my potent master? Here I am.
PROSPERO. Thou and thy meaner fellows your last service

Did worthily perform; and I must use you
In such another trick. Go bring the rabble,

O'er whom I give thee pow'r, here to this place.
Incite them to quick motion; for I must

Bestow upon the eyes of this young couple
Some vanity of mine art; it is my promise,

And they expect it from me.
ARIEL. Presently?

PROSPERO. Ay, with a twink.
ARIEL. Before you can say 'come' and 'go,'

And breathe twice, and cry 'so, so,'
Each one, tripping on his toe,

Will be here with mop and mow.
Do you love me, master? No?

PROSPERO. Dearly, my delicate Ariel. Do not approach
Till thou dost hear me call.

ARIEL. Well! I conceive. Exit
PROSPERO. Look thou be true; do not give dalliance

Too much the rein; the strongest oaths are straw
To th' fire i' th' blood. Be more abstemious,

Or else good night your vow!
FERDINAND. I warrant you, sir,

The white cold virgin snow upon my heart
Abates the ardour of my liver.

PROSPERO. Well!
Now come, my Ariel, bring a corollary,

Rather than want a spirit; appear, and pertly.
No tongue! All eyes! Be silent. [Soft music]

Enter IRIS
IRIS. Ceres, most bounteous lady, thy rich leas

Of wheat, rye, barley, vetches, oats, and pease;
Thy turfy mountains, where live nibbling sheep,

And flat meads thatch'd with stover, them to keep;
Thy banks with pioned and twilled brims,

Which spongy April at thy hest betrims,
To make cold nymphs chaste crowns; and thy broom groves,

Whose shadow the dismissed bachelor loves,
Being lass-lorn; thy pole-clipt vineyard;

And thy sea-marge, sterile and rocky hard,
Where thou thyself dost air-the Queen o' th' sky,

Whose wat'ry arch and messenger am I,
Bids thee leave these; and with her sovereign grace,



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