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I fear, you have done yourself some wrong:

word. Mir. Why speaks my father so umgently? 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! Fer.

o, if a virgin, And your

affection not gone forth, I'll make you The queen of Naples. Pro.

Soft, sir; one word more. They are both in either's powers: but this swift

business I must uneasy make, lest too light winning [aside. Make the prize light.-One word more ; I charge

thee,
That thou attend me: thou dost here usurp
The name thou owest 1 not; and hast put thyself
Upon this island, as a spy, to win it
From me, the lord on 't.
Fer.

No, as I am a man.
Mir. 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.
Pro.

Follow me.-[to Fer.
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

Possessest.

Wherein the acorn cradled. Follow.
Fer.

No;
I will resist such entertainment, till
Mine
enemy
has more power.

[he draws. Mir.

O dear father,
Make not too rash a trial of him, for
He's gentle, and not fearful.1
Pro.

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. Mir.

'Beseech

you,

father! Pro. Hence! hang not on my garments. Mir.

Sir, have pity; I'll be his surety. Pro.

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.
Mir.

My affections
Are then most humble: I have no ambition

i Formidable.

? Desist from any hope of awing me by that posture of defence.

[to Fer.

Fer.

To see a goodlier man.
Pro.

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

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, or 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.

It works :-Come on.-Thou hast done well, fine Ariel !-Follow me.

[to Fer. and Mir. Hark, what thou else shalt do me. [to Ariel. Mir.

Be of comfort;
My father's of a better nature, sir,
Than he appears by speech : this is unwonted,
Which now came from him.
Pro.

Thou shalt be as free
As mountain winds : but then exactly do
All points of my command.
Ari.

To the syllable.
Pro. Come, follow : speak not for him. [Excunt.

ACT II.

SCENE I.

Another part of the island. Enter ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, GONZALU,

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 1 Is common; every day, some sailor's wife, The masters of some merchant, 2 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. Alon.

Pr’ythee, peace. Seb. He receives comfort like cold porridge. Ant. The visitor 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.
Gon. When every grief is entertain'd, that's

offer'd, Comes to the entertainer

Seb. A dollar.

1 The cause that fills our minds with grief. * Owners of a merchant-ship.

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

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

Gon. Therefore, my lord,-
Ant. Fie, what a spendthrift is be of his tongue !
Alon. I pry’thee, spare.
Gon. Well, I have done: but yet-
Seb. He will be talking.

Ant. Which of them, 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've paid.
Adr. Uninhabitable, and almost inaccessible,
Seb. Yet,
Adr. Yet-
Ant, He could not miss it.

Adr. It must needs be of subtle, tender, ana delicate temperance."

Ant. Temperance was a delicate wench.

Seb. Ay, and a subtle, as he most learnedly delivered.

· Temperature.

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