You are three men of sin, whom Destiny,
That hath to instrument this lower world
And what is in’t, the never-surfeited sea
Hath caused to belch up you; and on this island
Where man doth not inhabit; you ’mongst men
Being most unfit to live. I have made you mad;
And even with such-like valour men hang and drown
Their proper selves. Alonso, Sebastian etc. draw their swords. You fools! I and my fellows
Are ministers of Fate: the elements,
Of whom your swords are temper’d, may as well
Wound the loud winds, or with bemock’d-at stabs
Kill the still-closing waters, as diminish
One dowle that’s in my plume: my fellow-ministers
Are like invulnerable. If you could hurt,
Your swords are now too massy for your strengths
And will not be uplifted. But remember—
For that’s my business to you—that you three
From Milan did supplant good Prospero;
Exposed unto the sea, which hath requit it,
Him and his innocent child: for which foul deed
The powers, delaying, not forgetting, have
Incensed the seas and shores, yea, all the creatures,
Against your peace. Thee of thy son, Alonso,
They have bereft; and do pronounce by me
Lingering perdition, worse than any death
Can be at once, shall step by step attend
You and your ways; whose wraths to guard you from—
Which here, in this most desolate isle, else falls
Upon your heads—is nothing but heart-sorrow
And a clear life ensuing.
Bravely the figure of this harpy hast thou
Perform’d, my Ariel; a grace it had, devouring:
Of my instruction hast thou nothing bated
In what thou hadst to say: so, with good life
And observation strange, my meaner ministers
Their several kinds have done. My high charms work
And these mine enemies are all knit up
In their distractions; they now are in my power;
And in these fits I leave them, while I visit
Young Ferdinand, whom they suppose is drown’d,
And his and mine loved darling. Exit above.
I’ the name of something holy, sir, why stand you
In this strange stare?
O, 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, pronounced
The name of Prosper: it did bass my trespass.
Therefore my son i’ the ooze is bedded, and
I’ll seek him deeper than e’er plummet sounded
And with him there lie mudded. Exit.
But one fiend at a time,
I’ll fight their legions o’er.
All three of them are desperate: their great guilt,
Like poison given to work a great time after,
Now ’gins to bite the spirits. I do beseech you
That are of suppler joints, follow them swiftly
And hinder them from what this ecstasy
May now provoke them to.
Act IV
Scene I
Before Prospero’s cell.
Enter Prospero, Ferdinand, and Miranda. | |
Prospero |
If I have too austerely punish’d you, |
Ferdinand |
I do believe it |
Prospero |
Then, as my gift and thine own acquisition |
Ferdinand |
As I hope |
Prospero |
Fairly spoke. |
Enter Ariel. | |
Ariel | What would my potent master? here I am. |
Prospero |
Thou and thy meaner fellows your last service |
Ariel | Presently? |
Prospero | Ay, with a twink. |
Ariel |
Before you can say “come” and “go,” |
Prospero |
Dearly my delicate Ariel. Do not approach |
Ariel | Well, I conceive. Exit. |
Prospero |
Look thou be true; do not give dalliance |
Ferdinand |
I warrant you sir; |
Prospero |
Well. |
Enter Iris. | |
Iris |
Ceres, most bounteous lady, thy rich leas |