Lie tumbling in my bare-foot way, and mount
Their pricks at my foot-fall; sometime am I
All wound with adders, who, with cloven tongues,
Do hiss me into madness :-Lo! now! lo!
Here comes a spirit of his; and to torment me,
For bringing wood in slowly: I'll fall flat;
Perchance, he will not mind me.

SATIRE ON ENGLISH CURIOSITY. Were I 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 show 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 clust'ring filberds, and sometimes I'll get thee Young sea-mells * from the rock.

ACT III.

A GUILTY CONSCIENCE. 0, it is monstrous! monstrous ! Methought, the billows spoke and told me of it; The.winds did sing it to me; and the thunder, That deep and dreadful organ-pipe, pronounc'd The name of Prosper.

Sea-galls.

#

There be some sports are painful; but their labour Delight the sets off: some kinds of baseness Are nobly undergone; and most poor matters Point to rich ends. This my mean task would be As heavy to me, as 'tis odious; but The mistress, which I serve, quickens what's dead, And makes my labours pleasures: O, she is Ten times more gentle than her father's crabbed; And he's composed of harshness. I must remove Some thousands of these logs, and pile them up, Upon a sore injunction: My sweet mistress Weeps when she sees me work; and says, such baseHad ne'er like executor. I forget:

[ness But these sweet thoughts do even refresh my labours; Most busy-less, when I do it.

Enter MIRANDA; and PROSPERO at a distance.

Mira. 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.
Fer.

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

If you'll sit down,
I'll bear your logs the while: Pray give me that;
I'll
carry it to the pile.
Fer.

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

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.
Pro.

Poor worm! thou art infected;
This visitation shows it.
Mira.

You look wearily.
Fer.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?
Mira.

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

Admir'd Miranda
Indeed the top of admiration: worth
What's dearest to the world! Full many a lady
I have ey'd 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 lik'd several women; never any
With so full soul, but some defect in her
Did quarrel with the noblest grace she ow'd t,
And put it to the foil: But you, O you,
So perfect and so peerless, are created
Of every creature's best.
Mira.

I do not know One of my sex; no woman's face remember, * Command.

+ Own'd.

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.
Fer.

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.
Mira.

Do you love me?
Fer. O heaven, Q earth, bear witness to this sound,
And crown what I profess with kind event,
If I speak true; if hollowly, invert
What best is boded me, to mischief! I,
Beyond all limit of what else * i' the world,
Do love, prize, honour you.
Mira.

I am a fool,
To weep at what I am glad of.
Pro.

Fair encounter
Of two most rare affections! Heavens rain grace
On that which breeds between them!
Fer.

Wherefore weep you? Mira. At mine unworthiness, that dare not offer What I desire to give; and much less take, What I shall die to want: But this is trifling; And all the more it seeks to hide itself, The bigger bulk it shows. Hence, bashful cunning, And prompt me, plain and holy innocence ! I am your wife, if you will marry me;

If not, I'll die your maid: to be your fellow
You may deny me: but I'll be your servant,
Whether you will or no.
Fer.

My mistress, dearest,
And I thus humble ever.
Mira.

My husband, then?
Fer. Ay, with a heart as willing
As bondage e'er of freedom: here's my hand.
Mira. And mine, with my heart in't: And now

farewell, Till half an hour hence. Fer.

A thousand! thousand!

ACT IV.

CONTINENCE BEFORE MARRIAGE.
If thou dost break her virgin knot before
All sanctimonious ceremonies may
With full and holy rite be minister'd,
No sweet aspersion* shall the heavens let fall
To make this contract grow; but barren hate,
Sour-ey'd disdain, and discord, shall bestrew
The union of your bed with weeds so loathly,
That you shall hate it both.

A LOVER'S PROTESTATION.

As I hope For quiet days, fair issue, and long life, With such love as 'tis now; the murkiest den, The most opportune place, the strong'st suggestion, Our worser genius can, shall never melt Mine honour into lust; to take away The edge of that day's celebration, When I shall think, or Phoebus' steeds are founder'd, Or night kept chain'd below.

* Sprinkling.