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1, 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 deftroy us?

Pro. Well demanded, wench;

My tale provokes that queftion. Dear, they durft not (So dear the love my people bore me ;) fet

A mark fo bloody on the bufinefs; but
With colours fairer painted their foul ends.
In few, they hurry'd us aboard a bark;
Bore us fome leagues to fea; where they prepar'd
A rotten carcafs of a boat, not rigg'd,
Nor tackle, fail, nor maft; the very rats
Inftinctively had quit it: there they hoift us
To cry to th' fea, that roar'd to us; to figh
To th' winds, whofe pity, fighing back again,
Did us but loving wrong.

Mira. Alack! what trouble

Was I then to you?

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Thou waft, that did preferve me: Thou didst fmile, Infused with a fortitude from heav'n,

(When I have deck'd the fea with drops full-falt; Under my burthen groan'd;) which rais'd in me An undergoing ftomach, to bear up

Against what fhould enfue.

Mira. How came we a-fhore?

Pro. By providence divine.

Some food we had, and fome fresh water, that

A noble Neapolitan, Gonzalo,

Out of his charity (being then appointed

Mafter of this defign) did give us, with

Rich garments, linnens, ftuffs, and neceffaries,

Which fince have fteeded 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 fee that man!
Pro. Now, I arife:

Sit ftill, and hear the last of our fea-forrow.
Here in this ifland we arriv'd, and here

Have I, thy fchool-mafter, made thee more profit
Than other Princes can, that have more time
For vainer hours, and tutors not fo careful.
Mira. Heav'ns thank you for't! And
you, Sir, facher mainten

now,

(For ftill 'tis beating in my mind) your reafon For raifing this fea-ftorm?

Pro. Know thus far forth;

By accident moft ftrange, bountiful fortune
(Now my dear lady) hath mine enemies
Brought to this fhore: and, by my prescience
I find, my Zenith doth depend upon
A moft aufpicious ftar; whofe Influence
If now I but omit, my fortunes
court not,

I pray

Will ever after droop. Here ceafe more queftions;
Thou art inclin'd to fleep. 'Tis a good dulnefs,
And give it way; I know, thou canst not chufe. —
[Miranda fleeps.
Come away, fervant, come; I'm ready now:
Approach, my Ariel. Come.

Enter Ariel.

Ari. All hail, great mafter! grave Sir, hail! I come To answer thy beft pleasure: Be't to fly;

To fwim; to dive into the fire; to ride

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

Pro. Haft thou, fpirit,

Perform'd to point the tempeft that I bad thee?
Ari. To every Article.

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

The

The yards, and bolt-fprit, would I flame diftinctly; 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 moft mighty Neptune Seem'd to befiege, and make his bold waves tremble; Yea, his dread trident fhake.

Pro. My brave, brave fpirit!

Who was fo firm, fo conftant, that this coyl
Would not infect his reafon?

Ari. Not a foul

But felt a feaver of the mind, and plaid
Some tricks of defperation: all, but mariners,
Plung'd in the foaming brine, and quit the veffel,
Then all a-fire with me: the King's fon Ferdinand
With hair up-ftaring (then like reeds, not hair)
Was the firft 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 fhore?
Ari. Clofe by, my mafter.
Pro. But are they, Ariel, fafe?
Ari. Not a hair perish'd:

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

Pro. Of the King's fhip,

The mariners, fay how thou haft difpos'd,
And all the reft o'th' fleet?

Ari. Safely in harbour

Is the King's fhip; in the deep nook, where once
Thou call'dft me up at midnight, to fetch dew
From the ftill-vext Bermudas, there fhe's hid: (9)

The

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

of

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