And the remainder mourning over them,
Brim-full of sorrow, and dismay; but chiefly
Hinn you term'd, sir, the good old lord, Gonzalo;
His tears run down his beard, like winter's drops
From eaves of reeds: your charm so strongly
works them,

That, if you now beheld them, your affections Would become tender.

Pro. Dost thou think so, spirit?

Ari. Mine would, sir, were I human.
Pro. And mine shall.

Hast thou, which art but air, a touch, a feeling,
Of their afflictions; and shall not myself,
One of their kind, that relish all as sharply,
Passion as they, be kindlier mov'd than thou art?
Though with their high wrongs I am struck to
the quick,

Yet, with my nobler reason, 'gainst my fury
Do I take part: the rarer action is

In virtue than in vengeance: they being penitent,
The sole drift of my purpose doth extend
Not a frown further. Go, release them, Ariel;
My charms I'll break, their senses I'll restore,
And they shall be themselves.

Begin to chase the ignorant fumes that mantle
Their clearer reason. -O my good Gonzalo,
My true preserver, and a loyal sir
To him thou follow'st; I will pay thy graces
Home, both in word and deed. Most cruelly
Didst thou, Alonso, use me and my daughter:
Thy brother was a furtherer in the act; [blood,
Thou'rt pinch'd for't now, Sebastian.-Flesh and
You brother mine, that entertain'd ambition,
Expell'd remorse and nature; who, with Sebastian,
(Whose inward pinches therefore are most strong)
Would here have kill'd your king; I do forgive
thee
Ling
Unnatural though thou art!-Their understand-
Begins to swell: and the approaching tide
Will shortly fill the reasonable shores,
That now lie foul and muddy. Not one of them,
That yet looks on me, or would know me. Ariel,
Fetch me the hat and rapier in my cell;

[exit Ariel.

Ari. I'll fetch them, sir.

[exit.

Pro. Ye elves of hills, brooks, standing lakes, and groves;

And ye, that on the sands with printless foot Do chase the ebbing Neptune, and do fly him, When he comes back; you demy-puppets, that By moonshine do the green-sour ringlets make, Whereof the ewe not bites; and you, whose pastime Is to make midnight mushrooms; that rejoice To hear the solemn curfew; by whose aid (Weak masters though ye be) I have be-dimm'd The noon-tide sun, call'd forth the mutinous winds, And 'twixt the green sea and the azur'd vault Set roaring war: to the dread rattling thunder Have I given fire, and rifted Jove's stout oak With his own bolt: the strong-bas'd promontory Have I made shake; and by the spurs pluck'd up The pine and cedar: graves, at my command, Have wak'd their sleepers; oped, and let them forth By my so potent art. But this rough magic I here abjure: and, when I have requir'd Some heavenly music, (which even now I do,) To work mine end upon their senses, that This airy charm is for, I'll break my staff, Bury it certain fathoms in the earth, And, deeper than did ever plummet sound, I'll drown my book. [solemn music. Re-enter Ariel: after him Alonso, with a frantic gesture, attended by Gonzalo; Sebastian and Antonio in like manner, attended by Adrian and Francisco. They all enter the circle which Prospero had made, and there stand charmed; which Prospero observing, speaks.

I will dis-case me, and myself present,
As I was sometime Milan :-quickly, spirit;
Thou shalt ere long be free.

Ariel re-enters, singing, and helps to attire Prospero.

Ari. Where the bee sucks, there suck I;

In a cowslip's bell I lie:

There I couch when owls do cry.

On the bat's back I do fly,

After summer, merrily:
Merrily, merrily, shall I live now,

Under the blossom that hangs on the bough.

Pro. Why, that's my dainty Ariel: I shall miss

thee;

But yet thou shalt have freedom: so, so, 80.—
To the king's ship, invisible as thou art:
There shalt thou find the mariners asleep
Under the hatches; the master and the boatswain,
Being awake, enforce them to this place;
And presently, I pr'ythee.

Ari. I drink the air before me, and return Or e'er your pulse twice beat. 'exit.

Gon. All torment, trouble, wonder, and amazeInhabit here: some heavenly power guide us [ment, Out of this fearful country!

Pro. Behold, sir king,

The wronged Duke of Milan, Prospero;
For more assurance that a living prince
Does now speak to thee, I embrace thy body;
And to thee, and thy company, I bid
A hearty welcome.

Alon. Whe'r thou beest he, or no,
Or some enchanted trifle to abuse me,
As late I have been, I not know: thy pulse
Beats, as of flesh and blood; and, since I saw thee,
The affliction of my mind amends, with which,
I fear, a madness held me: this must crave
(An if this be at all) a most strange story.
Thy dukedom I resign; and do entreat
Thou pardon me my wrongs. But how should
Be living, and be here?
[Prospero

Pro. First, noble friend,

Pro. You do yet taste

Some subtilties o'the isle, that will not let you Believe things certain: welcome, my friends all:

Seb. Ha, ha;

What things are these, my lord Antonio? Will money buy them?

Ant. Very like; one of them

Is a plain fish, and, no doubt marketable. [lords,
Pro. Mark but the badges of these men, my
Then say, if they be true. This mis-shapen knave,
His mother was a witch; and one so strong
That could control the moon, make flows and ebbs,
And deal in her command, without her power:
These three have robb'd me; and this demi-devil
(For he's a bastard one) had plotted with them

To take my life: two of these fellows you Must know, and own; this thing of darkness I Acknowledge mine.

Cal. I shall be pinch'd to death.

Alon. Is not this Stephano, my drunken butler? Seb. He is drunk now. Where had he wine? Alon. And Trinculo is reeling ripe. Where

should they

cramp.

Pro. You'd be king of the isle, sirrah? Ste. I should have been a sore one then. [on. Alon. This is as strange a thing as e'er I look'd [pointing to Caliban. Pro. He is as disproportion'd in his manners, As in his shape:-go, sirrah, to my cell; Take with you your companions; as you look To have my pardon, trim it handsomely. [after, Cal. Ay, that I will; and I will be wise hereAnd seek for grace. What a thrice-double ass Was I, to take this drunkard for a god, And worship this dull fool? Pro. Go to; away!

1

[you found it Alon. Hence, and bestow your luggage where Seb. Or stole it, rather.

[exeunt Cal. Ste. and Trin. Pro. Sir, I invite your highness, and your train, To my poor cell: where you shall take your rest For this one night; which (part of it) I'll waste With such discourse, as, I not doubt, shall make Go quick away: the story of my life, [it And the particular accidents, gone by, Since I came to this isle. And in the morn, I'll bring you to your ship, and so to Naples, Where I have hope to see the nuptial Of these our dear-beloved solemniz'd; And thence retire me to my Milan, where Every third thought shall be my grave. Alon. I long

SCENE I. BEFORE LEONATO'S HOUSE.

Enter Leonato, Hero, Beatrice, and others, with a Messenger.

Leon. I LEARN, in this letter, that Don Pedro of Arragon comes this night to Messina.

Mess. He is very near by this; he was not three leagues off when I left him.

Leon. How many gentlemen have you lost in this action?

A

Balthazar servant to Don Pedro. A Sexton.

A Friar.

A Boy.

Mess. But few of any sort, and none of name. Leon. A victory is twice itself, when the achiever brings home full numbers. I find here, that Don Pedro hath bestowed much honour on a young Florentine, called Claudio.

Mess. Much deserved on his part, and equally remembered by Don Pedro: he hath borne himself beyond the promise of his age; doing, in the figure of a lamb, the feats of a lion: he hath, indeed, better bettered expectation, than you must expect of me to tell you how.

Leon. He bath an uncle here in Messina will be very much glad of it.

Hero, daughter to Leonato.
Beatrice, niece to Leonato.

Margaret, gentlewomen attending on Hero.

Messengers, Watch, and Attendants.

Mess. I have already delivered him letters, and there appears much joy in him; even so much, that joy could not show itself modest enough, without a badge of bitterness.

Leon. Did he break out into tears?
Mess. In great, measure.

da am

Leon. A kind overflow of kindness; there are no faces truer than those that are so washed. How much better is it to weep at joy, than to joy at weeping?

Beat. I pray you, is signior Montanto returned from the wars, or no?

Mess. I know none of that name, lady; there was none such in the army, of any sort.

Leon. What is he that you ask for, niece?
Hero. My cousin means signior Benedick, of
Padua.
[he was.
Mess. O, he is returned, and as pleasant as ever

Beat. He set up his bills here in Messina, and challenged Cupid at the flight: and my uncle's fool, reading the challenge, subscribed for Cupid, and challenged him at the bird-bolt.-I pray you, how many hath he killed and eaten in these wars? But how many hath he kill'd? for, indeed, I proImised to eat all of his killing.

Leon. Faith, niece, you tax signior Benedick too much; but he'll be meet with you, I doubt it not. Mess. He hath done good service, lady, in these wars.

Beat. You had musty victual, and he hath holp to eat it: he is a very valiant trencher-man, he hath an excellent stomach.