SCENE II. The island. Before PROSPERO'S cell. The Tempest  Shakespeare homepage  |  The Tempest  | Act 1, Scene 2 

 Previous scene  |  Next scene  SCENE II. The island. Before PROSPERO'S cell. 

 Enter PROSPERO and MIRANDA  MIRANDA  If by your art, my dearest father, you have 

 Put the wild waters in this roar, allay them. 

 The sky, it seems, would pour down stinking pitch, 

 But that the sea, mounting to the welkin's cheek, 

 Dashes the fire out. O, I have suffered 

 With those that I saw suffer: a brave vessel, 

 Who had, no doubt, some noble creature in her, 

 Dash'd all to pieces. O, the cry did knock 

 Against my very heart. Poor souls, they perish'd. 

 Had I been any god of power, I would 

 Have sunk the sea within the earth or ere 

 It should the good ship so have swallow'd and 

 The fraughting souls within her. 

 PROSPERO  Be collected: 

 No more amazement: tell your piteous heart 

 There's no harm done. 

 MIRANDA  O, woe the day! 

 PROSPERO  No harm. 

 I have done nothing but in care of thee, 

 Of thee, my dear one, thee, my daughter, who 

 Art ignorant of what thou art, nought knowing 

 Of whence I am, nor that I am more better 

 Than Prospero, master of a full poor cell, 

 And thy no greater father. 

 MIRANDA  More to know 

 Did never meddle with my thoughts. 

 PROSPERO  'Tis time 

 I should inform thee farther. Lend thy hand, 

 And pluck my magic garment from me. So: 



 Lays down his mantle  Lie there, my art. Wipe thou thine eyes; have comfort. 

 The direful spectacle of the wreck, which touch'd 

 The very virtue of compassion in thee, 

 I have with such provision in mine art 

 So safely ordered that there is no soul-- 

 No, not so much perdition as an hair 

 Betid to any creature in the vessel 

 Which thou heard'st cry, which thou saw'st sink. Sit down; 

 For thou must now know farther. 

 MIRANDA  You have often 

 Begun to tell me what I am, but stopp'd 

 And left me to a bootless inquisition, 

 Concluding 'Stay: not yet.' 

 PROSPERO  The hour's now come; 

 The very minute bids thee ope thine ear; 

 Obey and be attentive. Canst thou remember 

 A time before we came unto this cell? 

 I do not think thou canst, for then thou wast not 

 Out three years old. 

 MIRANDA  Certainly, sir, I can. 

 PROSPERO  By what? by any other house or person? 

 Of any thing the image tell me that 

 Hath kept with thy remembrance. 

 MIRANDA  'Tis far off 

 And rather like a dream than an assurance 

 That my remembrance warrants. Had I not 

 Four or five women once that tended me? 

 PROSPERO  Thou hadst, and more, Miranda. But how is it 

 That this lives in thy mind? What seest thou else 

 In the dark backward and abysm of time? 

 If thou remember'st aught ere thou camest here, 

 How thou camest here thou mayst. 

 MIRANDA  But that I do not. 

 PROSPERO  Twelve year since, Miranda, twelve year since, 

 Thy father was the Duke of Milan and 

 A prince of power. 

 MIRANDA  Sir, are not you my father? 

 PROSPERO  Thy mother was a piece of virtue, and 

 She said thou wast my daughter; and thy father 

 Was Duke of Milan; and thou his only heir 

 And princess no worse issued. 

 MIRANDA  O the heavens! 

 What foul play had we, that we came from thence? 

 Or blessed was't we did? 

 PROSPERO  Both, both, my girl: 

 By foul play, as thou say'st, were we heaved thence, 

 But blessedly holp hither. 

 MIRANDA  O, my heart bleeds 

 To think o' the teen that I have turn'd you to, 

 Which is from my remembrance! Please you, farther. 

 PROSPERO  My brother and thy uncle, call'd Antonio-- 

 I pray thee, mark me--that a brother should 

 Be so perfidious!--he whom next thyself 

 Of all the world I loved and to him put 

 The manage of my state; as at that time 

 Through all the signories it was the first 

 And Prospero the prime duke, being so reputed 

 In dignity, and for the liberal arts 

 Without a parallel; those being all my study, 

 The government I cast upon my brother 

 And to my state grew stranger, being transported 

 And rapt in secret studies. Thy false uncle-- 

 Dost thou attend me? 

 MIRANDA  Sir, most heedfully. 

 PROSPERO  Being once perfected how to grant suits, 

 How to deny them, who to advance and who 

 To trash for over-topping, new created 

 The creatures that were mine, I say, or changed 'em, 

 Or else new form'd 'em; having both the key 

 Of officer and office, set all hearts i' the state 

 To what tune pleased his ear; that now he was 

 The ivy which had hid my princely trunk, 

 And suck'd my verdure out on't. Thou attend'st not. 

 MIRANDA  O, good sir, I do. 

 PROSPERO  I pray thee, mark me. 

 I, thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicated 

 To closeness and the bettering of my mind 

 With that which, but by being so retired, 

 O'er-prized all popular rate, in my false brother 

 Awaked an evil nature; and my trust, 

 Like a good parent, did beget of him 

 A falsehood in its contrary as great 

 As my trust was; which had indeed no limit, 

 A confidence sans bound. He being thus lorded, 

 Not only with what my revenue yielded, 

 But what my power might else exact, like one 

 Who having into truth, by telling of it, 

 Made such a sinner of his memory, 

 To credit his own lie, he did believe 

 He was indeed the duke; out o' the substitution 

 And executing the outward face of royalty, 

 With all prerogative: hence his ambition growing-- 

 Dost thou hear? 

 MIRANDA  Your tale, sir, would cure deafness. 

 PROSPERO  To have no screen between this part he play'd 

 And him he play'd it for, he needs will be 

 Absolute Milan. Me, poor man, my library 

 Was dukedom large enough: of temporal royalties 

 He thinks me now incapable; confederates-- 

 So dry he was for sway--wi' the King of Naples 

 To give him annual tribute, do him homage, 

 Subject his coronet to his crown and bend 

 The dukedom yet unbow'd--alas, poor Milan!-- 

 To most ignoble stooping. 

 MIRANDA  O the heavens! 

 PROSPERO  Mark his condition and the event; then tell me 

 If this might be a brother. 

 MIRANDA  I should sin 

 To think but nobly of my grandmother: 

 Good wombs have borne bad sons. 

 PROSPERO  Now the condition. 

 The King of Naples, being an enemy 

 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 midnight 

 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. 

 MIRANDA  Alack, for pity! 

 I, not remembering how I cried out then, 

 Will cry it o'er again: it is a hint 

 That wrings mine eyes to't. 

 PROSPERO  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. 

 MIRANDA  Wherefore did they not 

 That hour destroy us? 

 PROSPERO  Well demanded, wench: 

 My tale provokes that question. Dear, they durst not, 

 So dear the love my people bore me, nor 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 prepared 

 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. 

 MIRANDA  Alack, what trouble 

 Was I then to you! 

 PROSPERO  O, a cherubim 

 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 burthen groan'd; which raised in me 

 An undergoing stomach, to bear up 

 Against what should ensue. 

 MIRANDA  How came we ashore? 

 PROSPERO  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, linens, stuffs and necessaries, 

 Which since have steaded much; so, of his gentleness, 

 Knowing I loved my books, he furnish'd me 

 From mine own library with volumes that 

 I prize above my dukedom. 

 MIRANDA  Would I might 

 But ever see that man! 

 PROSPERO  Now I arise: 



 Resumes his mantle  Sit still, and hear the last of our sea-sorrow. 

 Here in this island we arrived; and here 

 Have I, thy schoolmaster, made thee more profit 

 Than other princesses can that have more time 

 For vainer hours and tutors not so careful. 

 MIRANDA  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? 

 PROSPERO  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 inclined to sleep; 'tis a good dulness, 

 And give it way: I know thou canst not choose. 



 MIRANDA sleeps  Come away, servant, come. I am ready now. 

 Approach, my Ariel, come. 



 Enter ARIEL  ARIEL  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. 

 PROSPERO  Hast thou, spirit, 

 Perform'd to point the tempest that I bade thee? 

 ARIEL  To every article. 

 I boarded the king's ship; now on the beak, 

 Now in the waist, the deck, in every cabin, 

 I flamed amazement: sometime I'ld divide, 

 And burn in many places; on the topmast, 

 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 to besiege and make his bold waves tremble, 

 Yea, his dread trident shake. 

 PROSPERO  My brave spirit! 

 Who was so firm, so constant, that this coil 

 Would not infect his reason? 

 ARIEL  Not a soul 

 But felt a fever of the mad and play'd 

 Some tricks of desperation. All but mariners 

 Plunged in the foaming brine and quit the vessel, 

 Then all afire 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.' 

 PROSPERO  Why that's my spirit! 

 But was not this nigh shore? 

 ARIEL  Close by, my master. 

 PROSPERO  But are they, Ariel, safe? 

 ARIEL  Not a hair perish'd; 

 On their sustaining garments not a blemish, 

 But fresher than before: and, as thou badest me, 

 In troops I have dispersed 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. 

 PROSPERO  Of the king's ship 

 The mariners say how thou hast disposed 

 And all the rest o' the fleet. 

 ARIEL  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-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 dispersed, they all have met again 

 And are upon the Mediterranean flote, 

 Bound sadly home for Naples, 

 Supposing that they saw the king's ship wreck'd 

 And his great person perish. 

 PROSPERO  Ariel, thy charge 

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

 What is the time o' the day? 

 ARIEL  Past the mid season. 

 PROSPERO  At least two glasses. The time 'twixt six and now 

 Must by us both be spent most preciously. 

 ARIEL  Is there more toil? Since thou dost give me pains, 

 Let me remember thee what thou hast promised, 

 Which is not yet perform'd me. 

 PROSPERO  How now? moody? 

 What is't thou canst demand? 

 ARIEL  My liberty. 

 PROSPERO  Before the time be out? no more! 

 ARIEL  I prithee, 

 Remember I have done thee worthy service; 

 Told thee no lies, made thee no mistakings, served 

 Without or grudge or grumblings: thou didst promise 

 To bate me a full year. 

 PROSPERO  Dost thou forget 

 From what a torment I did free thee? 

 ARIEL  No. 

 PROSPERO  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' the earth 

 When it is baked with frost. 

 ARIEL  I do not, sir. 

 PROSPERO  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? 

 ARIEL  No, sir. 

 PROSPERO  Thou hast. Where was she born? speak; tell me. 

 ARIEL  Sir, in Argier. 

 PROSPERO  O, was she so? I must 

 Once in a month recount what thou hast been, 

 Which thou forget'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? 

 ARIEL  Ay, sir. 

 PROSPERO  This blue-eyed 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 

 A dozen years; within which space she died 

 And left thee there; where thou didst vent thy groans 

 As fast as mill-wheels strike. Then was this island-- 

 Save for the son that she did litter here, 

 A freckled whelp hag-born--not honour'd with 

 A human shape. 

 ARIEL  Yes, Caliban her son. 

 PROSPERO  Dull thing, I say so; he, that Caliban 

 Whom now I keep in service. Thou best know'st 

 What torment I did find thee in; thy groans 

 Did make wolves howl and penetrate the breasts 

 Of ever angry bears: it was a torment 

 To lay upon the damn'd, which Sycorax 

 Could not again undo: it was mine art, 

 When I arrived and heard thee, that made gape 

 The pine and let thee out. 

 ARIEL  I thank thee, master. 

 PROSPERO  If thou more murmur'st, I will rend an oak 

 And peg thee in his knotty entrails till 

 Thou hast howl'd away twelve winters. 

 ARIEL  Pardon, master; 

 I will be correspondent to command 

 And do my spiriting gently. 

 PROSPERO  Do so, and after two days 

 I will discharge thee. 

 ARIEL  That's my noble master! 

 What shall I do? say what; what shall I do? 

 PROSPERO  Go make thyself like a nymph o' the sea: be subject 

 To no sight but thine and mine, invisible 

 To every eyeball else. Go take this shape 

 And hither come in't: go, hence with diligence! 



 Exit ARIEL  Awake, dear heart, awake! thou hast slept well; Awake! 

 MIRANDA  The strangeness of your story put 

 Heaviness in me. 

 PROSPERO  Shake it off. Come on; 

 We'll visit Caliban my slave, who never 

 Yields us kind answer. 

 MIRANDA  'Tis a villain, sir, 

 I do not love to look on. 

 PROSPERO  But, as 'tis, 

 We cannot miss him: he does make our fire, 

 Fetch in our wood and serves in offices 

 That profit us. What, ho! slave! Caliban! 

 Thou earth, thou! speak. 

 CALIBAN  [Within]  There's wood enough within. 

 PROSPERO  Come forth, I say! there's other business for thee: 

 Come, thou tortoise! when? 



 Re-enter ARIEL like a water-nymph  Fine apparition! My quaint Ariel, 

 Hark in thine ear. 

 ARIEL  My lord it shall be done. 



 Exit  PROSPERO  Thou poisonous slave, got by the devil himself 

 Upon thy wicked dam, come forth! 



 Enter CALIBAN  CALIBAN  As wicked dew as e'er my mother brush'd 

 With raven's feather from unwholesome fen 

 Drop on you both! a south-west blow on ye 

 And blister you all o'er! 

 PROSPERO  For this, be sure, to-night thou shalt have cramps, 

 Side-stitches that shall pen thy breath up; urchins 

 Shall, for that vast of night that they may work, 

 All exercise on thee; thou shalt be pinch'd 

 As thick as honeycomb, each pinch more stinging 

 Than bees that made 'em. 

 CALIBAN  I must eat my dinner. 

 This island's mine, by Sycorax my mother, 

 Which thou takest from me. When thou camest first, 

 Thou strokedst me and madest much of me, wouldst give me 

 Water with berries in't, and teach me how 

 To name the bigger light, and how the less, 

 That burn by day and night: and then I loved thee 

 And show'd thee all the qualities o' the isle, 

 The fresh springs, brine-pits, barren place and fertile: 

 Cursed be I that did so! All the charms 

 Of Sycorax, toads, beetles, bats, light on you! 

 For I am all the subjects that you have, 

 Which first was mine own king: and here you sty me 

 In this hard rock, whiles you do keep from me 

 The rest o' the island. 

 PROSPERO  Thou most lying slave, 

 Whom stripes may move, not kindness! I have used thee, 

 Filth as thou art, with human care, and lodged thee 

 In mine own cell, till thou didst seek to violate 

 The honour of my child. 

 CALIBAN  O ho, O ho! would't had been done! 

 Thou didst prevent me; I had peopled else 

 This isle with Calibans. 

 PROSPERO  Abhorred slave, 

 Which any print of goodness wilt not take, 

 Being capable of all ill! I pitied thee, 

 Took pains to make thee speak, taught thee each hour 

 One thing or other: when thou didst not, savage, 

 Know thine own meaning, but wouldst gabble like 

 A thing most brutish, I endow'd thy purposes 

 With words that made them known. But thy vile race, 

 Though thou didst learn, had that in't which 

 good natures 

 Could not abide to be with; therefore wast thou 

 Deservedly confined into this rock, 

 Who hadst deserved more than a prison. 

 CALIBAN  You taught me language; and my profit on't 

 Is, I know how to curse. The red plague rid you 

 For learning me your language! 

 PROSPERO  Hag-seed, hence! 

 Fetch us in fuel; and be quick, thou'rt best, 

 To answer other business. Shrug'st thou, malice? 

 If thou neglect'st or dost unwillingly 

 What I command, I'll rack thee with old cramps, 

 Fill all thy bones with aches, make thee roar 

 That beasts shall tremble at thy din. 

 CALIBAN  No, pray thee. 



 Aside  I must obey: his art is of such power, 

 It would control my dam's god, Setebos, 

 and make a vassal of him. 

 PROSPERO  So, slave; hence! 



 Exit CALIBAN 

 Re-enter ARIEL, invisible, playing and singing; FERDINAND following  ARIEL'S song. 

 Come unto these yellow sands, 

 And then take hands: 

 Courtsied when you have and kiss'd 

 The wild waves whist, 

 Foot it featly here and there; 

 And, sweet sprites, the burthen bear. 

 Hark, hark! 



 Burthen [dispersedly, within  The watch-dogs bark! 



 Burthen Bow-wow  Hark, hark! I hear 

 The strain of strutting chanticleer 

 Cry, Cock-a-diddle-dow. 

 FERDINAND  Where should this music be? i' the air or the earth? 

 It sounds no more: and sure, it waits upon 

 Some god o' the island. Sitting on a bank, 

 Weeping again the king my father's wreck, 

 This music crept by me upon the waters, 

 Allaying both their fury and my passion 

 With its sweet air: thence I have follow'd it, 

 Or it hath drawn me rather. But 'tis gone. 

 No, it begins again. 



 ARIEL sings  Full fathom five thy father lies; 

 Of his bones are coral made; 

 Those are pearls that were his eyes: 

 Nothing of him that doth fade 

 But doth suffer a sea-change 

 Into something rich and strange. 

 Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell 



 Burthen Ding-dong  Hark! now I hear them,--Ding-dong, bell. 

 FERDINAND  The ditty does remember my drown'd father. 

 This is no mortal business, nor no sound 

 That the earth owes. I hear it now above me. 

 PROSPERO  The fringed curtains of thine eye advance 

 And say what thou seest yond. 

 MIRANDA  What is't? a spirit? 

 Lord, how it looks about! Believe me, sir, 

 It carries a brave form. But 'tis a spirit. 

 PROSPERO  No, wench; it eats and sleeps and hath such senses 

 As we have, such. This gallant which thou seest 

 Was in the wreck; and, but he's something stain'd 

 With grief that's beauty's canker, thou mightst call him 

 A goodly person: he hath lost his fellows 

 And strays about to find 'em. 

 MIRANDA  I might call him 

 A thing divine, for nothing natural 

 I ever saw so noble. 

 PROSPERO  [Aside] It goes on, I see, 

 As my soul prompts it. Spirit, fine spirit! I'll free thee 

 Within two days for this. 

 FERDINAND  Most sure, the goddess 

 On whom these airs attend! Vouchsafe my prayer 

 May know if you remain upon this island; 

 And that you will some good instruction give 

 How I may bear me here: my prime request, 

 Which I do last pronounce, is, O you wonder! 

 If you be maid or no? 

 MIRANDA  No wonder, sir; 

 But certainly a maid. 

 FERDINAND  My language! heavens! 

 I am the best of them that speak this speech, 

 Were I but where 'tis spoken. 

 PROSPERO  How? the best? 

 What wert thou, if the King of Naples heard thee? 

 FERDINAND  A single thing, as I am now, that wonders 

 To hear thee speak of Naples. He does hear me; 

 And that he does I weep: myself am Naples, 

 Who with mine eyes, never since at ebb, beheld 

 The king my father wreck'd. 

 MIRANDA  Alack, for mercy! 

 FERDINAND  Yes, faith, and all his lords; the Duke of Milan 

 And his brave son being twain. 

 PROSPERO  [Aside]	The Duke of Milan 

 And his more braver daughter could control thee, 

 If now 'twere fit to do't. At the first sight 

 They have changed eyes. Delicate Ariel, 

 I'll set thee free for this. 



 To FERDINAND  A word, good sir; 

 I fear you have done yourself some wrong: a word. 

 MIRANDA  Why speaks my father so ungently? This 

 Is the third man that e'er I saw, the first 

 That e'er I sigh'd for: pity move my father 

 To be inclined my way! 

 FERDINAND  O, if a virgin, 

 And your affection not gone forth, I'll make you 

 The queen of Naples. 

 PROSPERO  Soft, sir! one word more. 



 Aside  They are both in either's powers; but this swift business 

 I must uneasy make, lest too light winning 

 Make the prize light. 



 To FERDINAND  One word more; I charge thee 

 That thou attend me: thou dost here usurp 

 The name thou owest not; and hast put thyself 

 Upon this island as a spy, to win it 

 From me, the lord on't. 

 FERDINAND  No, as I am a man. 

 MIRANDA  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. 

 PROSPERO  Follow me. 

 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 muscles, wither'd roots and husks 

 Wherein the acorn cradled. Follow. 

 FERDINAND  No; 

 I will resist such entertainment till 

 Mine enemy has more power. 



 Draws, and is charmed from moving  MIRANDA  O dear father, 

 Make not too rash a trial of him, for 

 He's gentle and not fearful. 

 PROSPERO  What? I say, 

 My foot my tutor? Put thy sword up, traitor; 

 Who makest a show but darest not strike, thy conscience 

 Is so possess'd with guilt: come from thy ward, 

 For I can here disarm thee with this stick 

 And make thy weapon drop. 

 MIRANDA  Beseech you, father. 

 PROSPERO  Hence! hang not on my garments. 

 MIRANDA  Sir, have pity; 

 I'll be his surety. 

 PROSPERO  Silence! one word more 

 Shall make me chide thee, if not hate thee. What! 

 An advocate for an imposter! hush! 

 Thou think'st there is 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. 

 MIRANDA  My affections 

 Are then most humble; I have no ambition 

 To see a goodlier man. 

 PROSPERO  Come on; obey: 

 Thy nerves are in their infancy again 

 And have no vigour in them. 

 FERDINAND  So they are; 

 My spirits, as in a dream, are all bound up. 

 My father's loss, the weakness which I feel, 

 The wreck 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. 

 PROSPERO  [Aside]                It works. 



 To FERDINAND  Come on. 

 Thou hast done well, fine Ariel! 



 To FERDINAND  Follow me. 



 To ARIEL  Hark what thou else shalt do me. 

 MIRANDA  Be of comfort; 

 My father's of a better nature, sir, 

 Than he appears by speech: this is unwonted 

 Which now came from him. 

 PROSPERO  Thou shalt be free 

 As mountain winds: but then exactly do 

 All points of my command. 

 ARIEL  To the syllable. 

 PROSPERO  Come, follow. Speak not for him. 



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