O’er whom I give thee power, here to this place.

Incite them to quick motion, for I must

Bestow upon the eyes of this young couple

Some vanity of mine art. It is my promise,

And they expect it from me.

ARIEL

Presently?

PROSPERO Ay, with a twink.

ARIEL

Before you can say ‘Come’ and ‘Go’, And breathe twice, and cry ‘So, so’,

Each one tripping on his toe

Will be here with mop and mow.

Do you love me, master? No?

PROSPERO

Dearly, my delicate Ariel. Do not approach

Till thou dost hear me call.

ARIEL

Well; I conceive.

Exit

PROSPERO (to Ferdinand)

Look thou be true. Do not give dalliance

Too much the rein. The strongest oaths are straw

To th’ fire i’th’ blood. Be more abstemious,

Or else, good night your vow.

FERDINAND

I warrant you, sir,

The white cold virgin snow upon my heart

Abates the ardour of my liver.

PROSPERO

Well.—

Now come, my Ariel! Bring a corollary

Rather than want a spirit. Appear, and pertly.

Soft music

(To Ferdinand and Miranda) No tongue, all eyes! Be silent.

Enter Iris

IRIS

Ceres, most bounteous lady, thy rich leas

Of wheat, rye, barley, vetches, oats, and peas;

Thy turfy mountains where live nibbling sheep,

And flat meads thatched with stover, them to keep;

Thy banks with peonied and twillèd brims

Which spongy April at thy hest betrims

To make cold nymphs chaste crowns; and thy broom-groves,

Whose shadow the dismissed bachelor loves,

Being lass-lorn; thy pole-clipped vineyard,

And thy sea-marge, sterile and rocky-hard,

Where thou thyself dost air: the Queen o’th’ Sky,

Whose wat’ry arch and messenger am I,

Bids thee leave these, and with her sovereign grace

Juno ⌈appears in the air⌉

Here on this grass-plot, in this very place,

To come and sport.—Her peacocks fly amain.

Approach, rich Ceres, her to entertain.

Enter ⌈Ariel as⌉ Ceres

CERES

Hail, many-coloured messenger, that ne’er

Dost disobey the wife of Jupiter;

Who with thy saffron wings upon my flowers

Diffusest honey-drops, refreshing showers,

And with each end of thy blue bow dost crown

My bosky acres and my unshrubbed down,

Rich scarf to my proud earth. Why hath thy queen

Summoned me hither to this short-grassed green?

IRIS

A contract of true love to celebrate,

And some donation freely to estate

On the blest lovers.

CERES

Tell me, heavenly bow,

If Venus or her son, as thou dost know,

Do now attend the Queen. Since they did plot

The means that dusky Dis my daughter got,

Her and her blind boy’s scandalled company

I have forsworn.

IRIS

Of her society

Be not afraid. I met her deity

Cutting the clouds towards Paphos, and her son

Dove-drawn with her. Here thought they to have

done

Some wanton charm upon this man and maid,

Whose vows are that no bed-right shall be paid

Till Hymen’s torch be lighted—but in vain.

Mars’s hot minion is returned again.

Her waspish-headed son has broke his arrows,

Swears he will shoot no more, but play with

sparrows,

And be a boy right out.

⌈Music. Juno descends to the stage⌉

CERES

Highest queen of state,

Great Juno, comes; I know her by her gait.

JUNO

How does my bounteous sister? Go with me

To bless this twain, that they may prosperous be,

And honoured in their issue.

⌈Ceres joins Juno, and⌉ they sing

FERDINAND

This is a most majestic vision, and

Harmonious charmingly. May I be bold

To think these spirits?

PROSPERO

Spirits, which by mine art

I have from their confines called to enact

My present fancies.

FERDINAND

Let me live here ever!

So rare a wondered father and a wise

Makes this place paradise.

Juno and Ceres whisper, and send Iris on employment

PROSPERO

Sweet now, silence.

Juno and Ceres whisper seriously.

There’s something else to do. Hush, and be mute,

Or else our spell is marred.

IRIS

You nymphs called naiads of the wind’ring brooks,

With your sedged crowns and ever-harmless looks,

Leave your crisp channels, and on this green land

Answer your summons; Juno does command.

Come, temperate nymphs, and help to celebrate

A contract of true love. Be not too late.

Enter certain nymphs

You sunburned sicklemen, of August weary,

Come hither from the furrow and be merry;

Make holiday, your rye-straw hats put on,

And these fresh nymphs encounter every one

In country footing.

Enter certain reapers, properly habited. They join with the nymphs in a graceful dance; towards the end whereof Prospero starts suddenly, and speaks

PROSPERO (aside)

I had forgot that foul conspiracy

Of the beast Caliban and his confederates

Against my life. The minute of their plot

Is almost come. (To the spirits) Well done! Avoid; no

more!

To a strange, hollow, and confused noise, the spirits in the pageant heavily vanish. ⌈Ferdinand and Miranda rise⌉