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

That wrings mine eyes to't.

Pro. 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.

Mira. Why did they not That hour destroy us?

Pro. Well demanded, wench;

My tale provokes that question. They durft not,
So dear the love my people bore me, fet

A mark fo bloody on the business; but
With colours fairer painted their foul ends.
In few, they hurry'd us aboard a bark,

Bore us fome leagues to fea, where they prepar'd
A rotten carcass of a boat, not rigg'd,
Nor tackle, nor fail, nor maft; the very rats
Inftinctively had quit it: there they hoift us
To cry to th' fea that roar'd to us; to figh
To winds, whose pity fighing back again
Did us but loving wrong.

Mira. Alack! what trouble

Was I then to you?

Pro. O! a cherubim

Thou waft that did preserve me: thou didst smile Infused with a fortitude from heav'n;

(When I have brack'd the sea with drops full falt, Under my burthen groan'd) which rais'd in me An undergoing stomach, to bear up

Against what should ensue.

Mira. How came we a-fhore?

Pro. By providence divine.

Some food we had, and fome fresh water, that

A noble Neapolitan, Gonzalo,

Out of his charity (being then appointed
Master of this defign) did give us, with

Rich garments, linnens, stuffs, and neceffaries,

Which fince have steeded much. So of his gentleness,
Knowing I lov'd my books, he furnish'd me

From my own library, with volumes that

I prize above my


Mira. Would I might

But ever fee that man!

Pro. Now I arife:

Sit ftill, and hear the last of our fea-forrow.
Here in this island we arriv'd, and here

Have I, thy school-master, made thee more profit
Than other princes can, that have more time

For vainer hours, and tutors not fo careful.

Mira. Heav'ns thank you for't! And now I pray you, fir, (For ftill 'tis beating in my mind) your reason

For raifing this fea-storm?

Pro. Know thus far forth;

By accident most strange bountiful fortune
(Now my dear lady) hath mine enemies
Brought to this fhore: and by my prescience
I find my zenith doth depend upon
A most auspicious ftar, whose influence
If now I court not, but omit, my fortunes
Will ever after droop. -Here ceafe more questions,
Thou art inclin'd to fleep. 'Tis a good dulnefs,
And give it way; I know thou canst not chuse.
Come away, fervant, come; I'm ready now:
Approach, my Ariel; come.


Enter Ariel.

Ari. All hail, great mafter! grave fir, hail! I come
To answer thy beft pleafure. Be't to fly;

To fwim; to dive into the fire; to ride
On the curl'd clouds: to thy ftrong bidding task


Ariel and all his qualities.

Pro. Haft thou, fpirit,

Perform'd to point the tempeft that I bad thee?
Ari. To every article.

I boarded the king's fhip: now on the beak,
Now in the wafte, the deck, in every cabin,
I flam'd amazement. Sometimes I'd divide,
And burn in many places; on the top-maft,
The yards, and bolt-fprit, would I flame diftinctly,
Then meet and join. Jove's lightnings, the precurfers
Of dreadful thunder-claps, more momentary

And fight out-running were not; the fire and cracks
Of fulphurous roaring the most mighty Neptune
Seem'd to befiege, and make his bold waves tremble,
Yea, his dread trident shake.

Pro. That's my brave spirit!

Who was fo firm, so constant, that this coil
Would not infect his reafon ?

Ari. Not a foul

But felt a fever of the mind, and plaid

Some tricks of defperation: all but mariners Plung❜d in the foaming brine, and quit the vessel, Then all a-fire with me: the king's fon Ferdinand With hair up-staring (then like reeds, not hair) Was the first man that leap'd; cry'd, hell is empty,

And all the devils are here.

Pro. Why that's my spirit!

But was not this nigh fhore?
Ari. Close by, my master.
Pro. But are they, Ariel, fafe?
Ari. Not a hair perish'd:

On their fuftaining garments not a blemish,

But fresher than before. And as thou badft me,
In troops I have difpers'd them 'bout the isle:
The king's fon have I landed by himself,
Whom I left cooling of the air with fighs

In an odd angle of the isle, and fitting,

His arms in this fad knot.

Pro. Of the king's fhip

The mariners, fay how thou haft difpos'd,
And all the reft o' th' fleet?

Ari. Safely in harbour

Is the king's fhip; in the deep nook, where once
Thou call'dft me up at midnight, to fetch dew
From the ftill-vext Bermoothes, there fhe's hid:
The mariners all under hatches ftow'd,

Whom with a charm join'd to their fuffered labour,
I've left asleep; and for the rest o' th' fleet
(Which I difpers'd) they all have met again,
And are upon the Mediterranean flote,

Bound fadly home for Naples,

Suppofing that they faw the king's fhip wreck'd,
And his great perfon perish.

Pro. Ariel, thy charge

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

What is the time o' th' day?

Ari. Paft the mid feafon.

Pro. At least two glaffes: the time 'twixt fix and now

Muft by us both be spent moft preciously.

Ari. Is there more toil? fince thou doft give me pains, Let me remember thee what thou haft promis'd,

Which is not yet perform'd me.

Pro. How now ? moody?

What is't thou canft demand?

Ari. My liberty.

Pro. Before the time be out? no more.

Ari. I pr'ythee,

Remember I have done thee worthy service,

(a) This is the Spanish pronunciation of Bermudas: the account of which island in Purchas's Pilgrimage is, that it was call'd the Ifland of Devils and the inchanted Ísland, these names being given it from the monftrous tempefts which there have been often fuftain'd. And again, Speaking of the whole cluster of islands with which the great one is furrounded, he faith, The islands feem rent with tempefts of thunder, lightning and rain, which threaten in time to devour them all.


Told thee no lies, made no mistakings, ferv'd

Without or grudge or grumblings; thou didst promise

To bate me a full


Pro. Doft thou forget

From what a torment I did free thee?

Ari. No.

Pro. Thou doft; and think'ft it much to tread the ooze

Of the falt deep;

To run upon the sharp wind of the north;

To do me business in the veins o'th' earth,

When it is bak'd with frost.

Ari. I do not, fir.

Pro. Thou ly'ft, malignant thing: haft thou forgot The foul witch Sycorax, who with age and envy

Was grown into a hoop? haft thou forgot her?

Ari. No, fir.

Pro. Thou haft: where was fhe born? fpeak; tell me, fay. Ari. Sir, in Argier.

Pro. Oh, was the fo? I must

Once in a month recount what thou hast been,

Which thou forget'ft. This damn'd witch Sycorax,

For mischiefs manifold, forceries too terrible

To enter human hearing, from Argier,

Thou know'ft, was banish'd: for one thing she did
They would not take her life. Is this not true?
Ari. Ay, fir.

Pro. This blue-ey'd hag was hither brought with child,
And here was left by th' failors; thou my flave,

As thou report'st thy felf, waft then her fervant.

And, for thou waft a spirit too delicate

To act her earthly and abhorr'd commands,
Refufing her grand hefts, 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


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