And shew'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 of the island.

Music.
Where should this music be? i the air, or the

earth?
It sounds no more : and sure it waits upon
Some god of 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.

Ariel's Song.
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 :
Hark! now I hear them,—ding-dong, bell.

A Lover's Speech.
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.

Act II.
Description of Ferdinand's Swimming ashore.
I saw him beat the surges under him,
And ride upon their backs ; he trod the water,
Whose enmity he flung aside, and breasted
The surge most swoln that met him : his bold head
Bove the contentious waves he kept, and oar'd
Himself with his good arms in lusty stroke
To the shore, that o'er his waye-worn basis bow'd,
As stooping to relieve him : I not doubt
He came alive to land.

Sleep.
Do not omit the heavy offer of it:
It seldom visits sorrow; when it doth,
It is a comforter.

Caliban's Curses.
All the infections that the sun sucks up
From bogs, fens, flats, on Prosper fall, and make him
By inch-meal a disease! His spirits hear me,
And yet I needs must curse. But they'll nor pinch,
Fright me with urchin shows, pitch me i' the mire,
Nor lead me like a fire-brand in the dark
Out of my way, unless he bid them ; but
For every trifle are they set upon me :
Sometimes like apes, that moe* and chatter at me,

. . To make faces.

And after, bite me; then like hedge-hogs, which
Lie tumbling in my bare-foot way, and mount
Their pricks at my footfall ; sometimes am I
All wound with adders, who, with cloven tongues,
Do hiss me into madness.

Satire on English Curiosity. What have we here? a man or a fish? Dead or alive? A fish; he smells like a fish ; a very ancient and fish-like smell; a kind of, not of the newest, PoorJohn. A strange fish! Were 1 in England now (as once I was), and had but this fish painted, not a holiday fool there but would give a piece of silver ; there would this monster make a man; any strange beast there makes a man : when they will not give a doit to relieve a lame beggar, they will lay out ten to see a dead Indian.

Caliban's Promises.
I'll shew thee the best springs ; I'll pluck thee

berries;
I'll fish for thee, and get thee wood enough.
A plague upon the tyrant that I serve !
I'll bear him no more sticks, but follow thee,
Thou wondrous man.
I pr’ythee, let me bring thee where crabs grow :
And I with my long nails will dig thee pig-nuts :
Show thee a jay's nest, and instruct thee how
To snare the nimble marmozet ; I'll bring thee
To clustering filberds, and sometimes I'll get thee
Young sea-mells* from the rock.

Act III.
Ferdinand and Miranda. Prospero at a distance.

MIRANDA. Alas, now! pray you,
Work not so hard : I would the lightning had
Burnt up those logs, that you are enjoin'd to pile !
Pray, set it down, and rest you: when this burns,
'Twill weep for having wearied you. My father
Is hard at study; pray now, rest yourself ;
He's safe for these three hours.
FERDINAND.

O most dear mistress,
The sun will set, before I shall discharge
What I must strive to do.
MIRANDA.

If you will sit down
I'll bear your logs the while : pray give me that ;
I'll carry it to the pile.
FERDINAND.

No, precious creature ;
I had rather crack my sinews, break my back,
Than you should such dishonour undergo,
While I sit lazy by.
MIRANDA.

It would become me
As well as it does you : and I should do it
With much more ease ; for my good will is to it,
And yours against

PROSPERO. Poor worm ! thou art infected;
This visitation shews it.
MIRANDA.

You look wearily. FERDINAND. No, noble mistress ; 'tis fresh morning

with me When you are by at night. I do beseech you (Chiefly that I might set it in my prayers), What is your name? MIRANDA.

Miranda :-O my father, I have broke your hest* to say so !

* Disobeyed her father's injuncticns.

FERDINAND.

Admired Miranda !
Indeed the top of admiration ; worth
What's dearest to the world! Full many a lady
I have eyed with best regard ; and many a time
The harmony of their tongues hath into bondage
Brought my too diligent ear: for several virtues
Have I liked several women ; never any
With so full soul, but some defect in her
Did quarrel with the noblest grace she owed,*
And put it to the foil : But you, O you,
So perfect, and so peerless, are created
Of every creature's best.
MIRANDA.

I do not know
One of my sex : no woman's face remember,
Save, from my glass, mine own; nor have I seen
More that I may call men, than you, good friend,
And my dear father : how features are abroad,
I am skill-less of; but, by my modesty,
(The jewel in my dower) I would not wish
Any companion in the world but you ;
Nor can imagination form a shape,
Besides yourself, to like of: but I prattle
Something too wildly, and my father's precepts
Therein forget.

FERDINAND. I am, in my condition,
A prince, Miranda ; I do think, a king;
(I would, not so !) and would no more endure
This wooden slavery, than I would suffer
The flesh-fly blow my mouth.—Hear my soul speak;

-The very instant that I saw you, did
My heart fly to your service; there resides,
To make me slave to it; and, for your sake,
Am I this patient log-man.