Which I do last pronounce, is—O you wonder—
If you be maid or no?
MIRANDA
No wonder, sir,
But certainly a maid.
FERDINAND
My language! Heavens!
I am the best of them that speak this speech,
Were I but where ’tis spoken.
PROSPERO
How, the best?
What wert thou if the King of Naples heard thee?
FERDINAND
A single thing, as I am now that wonders
To hear thee speak of Naples. He does hear me,
And that he does I weep. Myself am Naples,
Who with mine eyes, never since at ebb, beheld
The King my father wrecked.
MIRANDA
Alack, for mercy!
FERDINAND
Yes, faith, and all his lords, the Duke of Milan
And his brave son being twain.
PROSPERO (aside)
The Duke of Milan
And his more braver daughter could control thee,
If now ’twere fit to do’t. At the first sight
They have changed eyes.—Deticate Ariel,
I’ll set thee free for this. (To Ferdinand) A word, good
sir. 445
I fear you have done yourself some wrong. A word.
MIRANDA (aside)
Why speaks my father so ungently? This
Is the third man that e’er I saw, the first
That e’er I sighed for. Pity move my father
To be inclined my way.
FERDINAND
O, if a virgin,
And your affection not gone forth, I’ll make you
The Queen of Naples.
PROSPERO
Soft, sir! One word more.
(Aside) They are both in either’s powers. But this swift
business
I must uneasy make, lest too light winning
Make the prize light. (To Ferdinand) One word more. I
charge thee
That thou attend me. Thou dost here usurp
The name thou ow’st not; and hast put thyself
Upon this island as a spy, to win it
From me the lord on’t.
FERDINAND
No, as I am a man.
MIRANDA
There’s nothing ill can dwell in such a temple.
If the ill spirit have so fair a house,
Good things will strive to dwell with’t.
PROSPERO (to Ferdinand)
Follow me.
(To Miranda) Speak not you for him; he’s a traitor.
(To Ferdinand) Come!
I’ll manacle thy neck and feet together.
Sea-water shalt thou drink; thy food shall be
The fresh-brook mussels, withered roots, and husks
Wherein the acorn cradled. Follow!
FERDINAND
No.
I will resist such entertainment till
Mine enemy has more power.
He draws, and is charmed from moving
MIRANDA
O dear father,
Make not too rash a trial of him, for
He’s gentle, and not fearful.
PROSPERO
What, I say,
My foot my tutor? Put thy sword up, traitor,
Who mak‘st a show but dar’st not strike, thy
conscience
Is so possessed with guilt. Come from thy ward,
For I can here disarm thee with this stick
And make thy weapon drop.
MIRANDA
Beseech you, father!
PROSPERO
Hence! Hang not on my garments.
MIRANDA
Sir, have pity.
I’ll be his surety.
PROSPERO
Silencel One word more
Shall make me chide thee, if not hate thee. What,
An advocate for an impostor? Hush!
Thou think’st there is no more such shapes as he,
Having seen but him and Caliban. Foolish wench!
To th’ most of men this is a Caliban,
And they to him are angels.
MIRANDA
My affections
Are then most humble. I have no ambition
To see a goodlier man.
PROSPERO (to Ferdinand) Come on; obey.
Thy nerves are in their infancy again,
And have no vigour in them.
FERDINAND
So they are.
My spirits, as in a dream, are all bound up.
My father’s loss, the weakness which I feel,
The wreck of all my friends, nor this man’s threats
To whom I am subdued, are but light to me,
Might I but through my prison once a day
Behold this maid. All corners else o’th’ earth
Let liberty make use of; space enough
Have I in such a prison.
PROSPERO (aside)
It works. (To Ferdinand) Come on.—
Thou hast done well, fine Ariel. (To Ferdinand) Follow
me.
(To Ariel) Hark what thou else shalt do me.
MIRANDA (to Ferdinand)
Be of comfort.
My father’s of a better nature, sir,
Than he appears by speech. This is unwonted
Which now came from him.
PROSPERO (to Ariel)
Thou shalt be as free
As mountain winds; but then exactly do
All points of my command.
ARIEL To th’ syllable.
PROSPERO (to Ferdinand)
Come, follow. (To Miranda) Speak not for him.
Exeunt
![William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition _155.jpg](https://litlife.club/books/248589/read/images/_155.jpg)
2.1 Enter Alonso, Sebastian, Antonio, Gonzalo, Adrian, and Francisco
GONZALO (to Alonso)
Beseech you, sir, be merry. You have cause,
So have we all, of joy; for our escape
Is much beyond our loss. Our hint of woe
Is common; every day some sailor’s wife,
The masters of some merchant, and the merchant,
Have just our theme of woe. But for the miracle,
I mean our preservation, few in millions
Can speak like us. Then wisely, good sir, weigh
Our sorrow with our comfort.
ALONSO
Prithee, peace.
SEBASTIAN (to Antonio) He receives comfort like cold porridge.
ANTONIO The visitor will not give him o’er so.
SEBASTIAN Look, he’s winding up the watch of his wit. By and by it will strike.