Thou strokedst me, and madest much of me; wouldst Water with berries in't; and teach me how

[give me

To name the bigger light, and how the less,
That burn by day and night; and then I lov'd thee,
And show'd thee all the qualities o' the isle,

The fresh springs, brine pits, barren place, and fertile;
Cursed be I that did so!-All the charms

Of Sycorax, toads, beetles, bats, light on you!
For I am all the subjects that you have,

Which first was mine own king; and here you sty me
In this hard rock, whiles you do keep from me
The rest of the island.

MUSIC.

Where should this music be? i'the air, or the earth?
It sounds no more: and sure it waits upon
Some god of the island. Sitting on a bank,
Weeping again the king my father's wreck,
This music crept by me upon the waters;
Allaying both their fury and my passion
With its sweet air.

ARIEL'S SONG.

Full fathom five thy father lies;
Of his bones are coral made;
Those are pearls, that were his eyes:
Nothing of him that doth fade,
But doth suffer a sea-change

Into something rich and strange.

Sea nymphs hourly ring his knell.
Hark! now I hear them,—ding-dong, bell.

SLEEP.

Do not omit the heavy offer of it:

It seldom visits sorrow: when it doth,
It is a comforter.

DESCRIPTION OF FERDINAND SWIMMING ASHORE.

I saw him beat the surges under him,

And ride upon their backs; he trod the water,
Whose enmity he flung aside, and breasted

The surge most swoln that met him: his bold head 'Bove the contentious waves he kept, and oar'd Himself with good arms in lusty stroke

To the shore, that o'er his wave-worn basis bow'd
As stooping to relieve him: I not doubt
He came alive to land.

All the infections that the sun sucks up

From bogs, fens, flats, on Prosper fall, and make him By inch-meal a disease! His spirits hear me,

And yet I needs must curse. But they'll nor pinch,
Fright me with virgin shows, pitch me i' the mire,

Nor lead me, like a fire-brand, in the dark
Out of my way, unless he bid them; but

For every trifle are they set upon me:

Sometime like apes, that moe* and chatter at me,

* Make mouths.

And after, bite me; then like hedge-hogs, which
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 clustering filberds, and sometimes I'll get thee
Young sea-mells* from the rock.

TEARS.

His tears run down his beard, like winter's drops
From eaves of reeds.

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 your prayers),

Indeed the top of admiration; worth

What's dearest to the world! Full many a lady

* Command.

I have eyed 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 liked several women; never any

With so full soul, but some defect in her

Did quarrel with the noblest grace she owed,*
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,
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, O earth, bear witness to this sound,

And crown what I profess with kind event,

If I speak true; if hollowly, invert

* Owned,