And give it way;-I know thou canst not choose. [Miranda sleeps. Come away, servant, come: I am ready now; Enter ARIEL. Ari. All hail, great master! grave sir, hail! I come To answer thy best pleasure; be 't to fly, On the curl'd clouds; to thy strong bidding, task Pro. Hast thou, spirit, Perform'd to point the tempest that I bade thee? I boarded the king's ship; now on the beak, cursors O' the dreadful thunder-claps, more momentary And sight-out-running 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. 1 All his confederates; all who are of the same profession. The part between the quarter-deck and the forecastle. Pro. My brave spirit! Who was so firm, so constant, that this coil1 But felt a fever of the mad,2 and play'd Some tricks of desperation: All, but mariners, Plunged in the foaming brine, and quit the vessel, fhen 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.' On their sustaining garments not a blemish, Pro. Of the king's ship, The mariners, say, how thou hast disposed, And all the rest o' the fleet? Bustle, tumult. 2 Not a sou! but felt such a fever as madmen feel, when the frantic fit is on them. Folded. Ari. Safely in harbor Is the king's ship; in the deep nook, where once Whom, with a charm join'd to their suffer'd labor Supposing that they saw the king's ship wreck'd Pro. Ariel, thy charge Exactly is perform'd; but there's more work : Ari. Past the mid season. Pro. At least two glasses: 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 promised, Pro. How now ? moody? My liberty. What is 't thou canst demand? Ari. Pro. Before the time be out? no more. I pray thee Ari. Told thee no lies, made thee no mistakings, served Without or grudge, or grumblings: thou didst promise To bate me a full year. Pro. Dost thou forget From what a torment I did free thee? Ari. No. Pro. 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, Ari. I do not, sir. 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? Once in a month, recount what thou hast been, Which thou forget'st. This damn'd witch, Sycorax, Thou know'st, was banish'd; for one thing she did, Algiers. |