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I, not remembring how I cry'd out then,
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. Dear, they durst not
(So dear the love my people bore me;) fet
A mark so 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 sea; where they prepar'd
A rotten carcass of a boat, not rigg'd,
Nor tackle, fail, nor mast; the very rats
Instinctively had quit it: there they hoift us
To cry to th' sea, that roar'd to us; to figh
To th' 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 wast, that did preserve me: Thou didst smile,
Infused with a fortitude from heav'n,

(When I have deck'd the fea with drops full-salt;
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-shore?

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 design) did give us, with

Rich garments, linnens, stuffs, and necessaries,
Which since have steeded much. So of his gentleness,

Knowing I lov'd my books, he furnish'd me

From

From my own library, with volumes that
I prize above my Dukedom.

Mira. Would I might

But ever see that man!

Pro. Now, I arife:

Sit still, 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 so careful.

Mira. Heav'ns thank you for't! And now, I pray you, Sir,

(For still 'tis beating in my mind) your reason For raising this fea-storm?

Pro. Know thus far forth,

By accident most strange, bountiful fortune
(Now my dear lady) hath mine enemies
Brought to this shore: and, by my prescience
I find, my Zenith doth depend upon
A most auspicious star; whose Influence
If now I court not, but omit, my fortunes
Will ever after droop. Here cease more questions;
Thou art inclin'd to fleep. 'Tis a good dulness,
And give it way; I know, thou canst not chuse. -
[Miranda leeps.

Come away, servant, come; I'm ready now:
Approach, my Ariel. Come.

Enter Ariel.

Ari. All hail, great master! grave Sir, hail! I come

To answer thy best pleasure: Be't to fly;

To swim; to dive into the fire; to ride

On the curl'd clouds: to thy strong bidding task
Ariel, and all his qualities.

Pro. Haft thou, spirit,

Perform'd to point the tempeft that I bad thee?

Ari. To every Article.

I boarded the King's ship: now on the beak,
Now in the waste, the deck, in every cabin,
I flam'd amazement. Sometimes, I'd divide,
And burn in many places; on the top-mast,

The

The yards, and bolt-sprit, would I flame distinctly;
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 besiege, and make his bold waves tremble;
Yea, his dread trident shake.

Pro. My brave, brave spirit!

Who was so firm, so constant, that this coyl
Would not infect his reason?

Ari. Not a foul

But felt a feaver of the mind, and plaid
Some tricks of desperation: all, but mariners,
Plung'd in the foaming brine, and quit the vessel,
Then all a-fire with me: the King's son Ferdinand
With hair up-ftaring (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 shore?
Ari. Close by, my master.
Pro. But are they, Ariel, safe?
Ari. Not a hair perish'd:

On their sustaining garments not a blemish,
But fresher than before. And as thou badit me,
In troops I have dispers'd them 'bout the isle:
The King's fon have I landed by himself,
Whom I left cooling of the air with sighs,
In an odd angle of the ifle, and fitting,
His arms in this fad knot.

Pro. Of the King's ship,
The mariners, say how thou hast dispos'd,
And all the rest o'th' fleet?

Ari. Safely in harbour

Is the King's ship; in the deep nook, where once
Thou call'dst me up at midnight, to fetch dew
From the still-vext Bermudas, there she's hid: (9)

The

(9) From the ftill-vext Bermoothes] So this Word has hitherto been mistakenly written in all the Books. There are about 400 Islands in North America, the principal of which was call'd Bermuda from a Spaniard

of

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