Shakespeare's First Folio Part 5

This Musicke crept by me vpon the waters, Allaying both their fury, and my pa.s.sion With it's sweet ayre: thence I haue follow'd it (Or it hath drawne me rather) but 'tis gone.

No, it begins againe

Ariell Song. Full fadom fiue thy Father lies, Of his bones are Corrall made: Those are pearles that were his eies, Nothing of him that doth fade, But doth suffer a Sea-change Into something rich, & strange: Sea-Nimphs hourly ring his knell.

Burthen: ding dong.

Harke now I heare them, ding-dong bell

Fer. The Ditty do's remember my drown'd father, This is no mortall busines, nor no sound That the earth owes: I heare it now aboue me

Pro. The fringed Curtaines of thine eye aduance, And say what thou see'st yond

Mira. What is't a Spirit?

Lord, how it lookes about: Beleeue me sir, It carries a braue forme. But 'tis a spirit

Pro. No wench, it eats, and sleeps, & hath such senses As we haue: such. This Gallant which thou seest Was in the wracke: and but hee's something stain'd With greefe (that's beauties canker) y might'st call him A goodly person: he hath lost his fellowes, And strayes about to finde 'em

Mir. I might call him A thing diuine, for nothing naturall I euer saw so n.o.ble

Pro. It goes on I see As my soule prompts it: Spirit, fine spirit, Ile free thee Within two dayes for this

Fer. Most sure the G.o.ddesse On whom these ayres attend: Vouchsafe my pray'r May know if you remaine vpon this Island, And that you will some good instruction giue How I may beare me heere: my prime request (Which I do last p.r.o.nounce) is (O you wonder) If you be Mayd, or no?

Mir. No wonder Sir, But certainly a Mayd

Fer. My Language? Heauens: I am the best of them that speake this speech, Were I but where 'tis spoken

Pro. How? the best?

What wer't thou if the King of Naples heard thee?

Fer. A single thing, as I am now, that wonders To heare thee speake of Naples: he do's heare me, And that he do's, I weepe: my selfe am Naples, Who, with mine eyes (neuer since at ebbe) beheld The King my Father wrack't

Mir. Alacke, for mercy

Fer. Yes faith, & all his Lords, the Duke of Millaine And his braue sonne, being twaine

Pro. The Duke of Millaine And his more brauer daughter, could controll thee If now 'twere fit to do't: At the first sight They haue chang'd eyes: Delicate Ariel, Ile set thee free for this. A word good Sir, I feare you haue done your selfe some wrong: A word

Mir. Why speakes my father so vngently? This Is the third man that ere I saw: the first That ere I sigh'd for: pitty moue my father To be enclin'd my way

Fer. O, if a Virgin, And your affection not gone forth, Ile make you The Queene of Naples

Pro. Soft sir, one word more.

They are both in eythers pow'rs: But this swift busines I must vneasie make, least too light winning Make the prize light. One word more: I charge thee That thou attend me: Thou do'st heere vsurpe The name thou ow'st not, and hast put thy selfe Vpon this Island, as a spy, to win it From me, the Lord on't

Fer. No, as I am a man

Mir. Ther's nothing ill, can dwell in such a Temple, If the ill-spirit haue so fayre a house, Good things will striue to dwell with't

Pro. Follow me

Pros. Speake not you for him: hee's a Traitor: come, Ile manacle thy necke and feete together: Sea water shalt thou drinke: thy food shall be The fresh-brooke Mussels, wither'd roots, and huskes Wherein the Acorne cradled. Follow

Fer. No, I will resist such entertainment, till Mine enemy ha's more pow'r.

He drawes, and is charmed from mouing.

Mira. O deere Father, Make not too rash a triall of him, for Hee's gentle, and not fearfull

Pros. What I say, My foote my Tutor? Put thy sword vp Traitor, Who mak'st a shew, but dar'st not strike: thy conscience Is so possest with guilt: Come, from thy ward, For I can heere disarme thee with this sticke, And make thy weapon drop

Mira. Beseech you Father

Pros. Hence: hang not on my garments

Mira. Sir haue pity, Ile be his surety

Pros. Silence: One word more Shall make me chide thee, if not hate thee: What, An aduocate for an Impostor? Hush: Thou think'st there is no more such shapes as he, (Hauing seene but him and Caliban:) Foolish wench, To th' most of men, this is a Caliban, And they to him are Angels

Mira. My affections Are then most humble: I haue no ambition To see a goodlier man

Pros. Come on, obey: Thy Nerues are in their infancy againe.

And haue no vigour in them

Fer. So they are: My spirits, as in a dreame, are all bound vp: My Fathers losse, the weaknesse which I feele, The wracke of all my friends, nor this mans threats, To whom I am subdude, are but light to me, Might I but through my prison once a day Behold this Mayd: all corners else o'th' Earth Let liberty make vse of: s.p.a.ce enough Haue I in such a prison

Pros. It workes: Come on.

Thou hast done well, fine Ariell: follow me, Harke what thou else shalt do mee

Mira. Be of comfort, My Fathers of a better nature (Sir) Then he appeares by speech: this is vnwonted Which now came from him

Pros. Thou shalt be as free As mountaine windes; but then exactly do All points of my command

Ariell. To th' syllable

Pros. Come follow: speake not for him.

Exeunt.

Actus Secundus. Scoena Prima.

Enter Alonso, Sebastian, Anthonio, Gonzalo, Adrian, Francisco, and others.

Gonz. Beseech you Sir, be merry; you haue cause, (So haue we all) of ioy; for our escape Is much beyond our losse; our hint of woe Is common, euery day, some Saylors wife, The Masters of some Merchant, and the Merchant Haue iust our Theame of woe: But for the miracle, (I meane our preseruation) few in millions Can speake like vs: then wisely (good Sir) weigh Our sorrow, with our comfort

Alons. Prethee peace

Seb. He receiues comfort like cold porredge

Ant. The Visitor will not giue him ore so