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TRINCULO And this.

STEFANO Ay, and this.

They load Caliban with apparel. A noise of hunters heard. Enter divers spirits in shape of dogs and hounds, hunting them about; Prospero and Ariel setting them on

PROSPERO

Hey, Mountain, hey!

ARIEL

Silver! There it goes, Silver!

PROSPERO

Fury, Fury! There, Tyrant, there! Hark, hark!

Exeunt Stefano, Trinculo, and Caliban, pursued by spirits

(To Ariel) Go, charge my goblins that they grind their

joints

With dry convulsions, shorten up their sinews

With aged cramps, and more pinch-spotted make

them

Than pard or cat o’mountain.

Cries within

ARIEL

Hark, they roar!

PROSPERO

Let them be hunted soundly. At this hour

Lies at my mercy all mine enemies.

Shortly shall all my labours end, and thou

Shalt have the air at freedom. For a little,

Follow, and do me service.

Exeunt

William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition _159.jpg

5.1 Enter Prospero, in his magic robes, and Ariel

PROSPERO

Now does my project gather to a head.

My charms crack not, my spirits obey, and time

Goes upright with his carriage. How’s the day?

ARIEL

On the sixth hour; at which time, my lord,

You said our work should cease.

PROSPERO

I did say so

When first I raised the tempest. Say, my spirit,

How fares the King and’s followers?

ARIEL

Confined together

In the same fashion as you gave in charge,

Just as you left them; all prisoners, sir,

In the lime-grove which weather-fends your cell.

They cannot budge till your release. The King,

His brother, and yours, abide all three distracted,

And the remainder mourning over them,

Brimful of sorrow and dismay; but chiefly

Him that you termed, sir, the good old lord Gonzalo:

His tears run down his beard like winter’s drops

From eaves of reeds. Your charm so strongly works ’em

That if you now beheld them your affections

Would become tender.

PROSPERO

Dost thou think so, spirit?

ARIEL

Mine would, sir, were I human.

PROSPERO

And mine shall.

Hast thou, which art but air, a touch, a feeling

Of their afflictions, and shall not myself,

One of their kind, that relish all as sharply

Passion as they, be kindlier moved than thou art?

Though with their high wrongs I am struck to th’

quick,

Yet with my nobler reason ’gainst my fury

Do I take part. The rarer action is

In virtue than in vengeance. They being penitent,

The sole drift of my purpose doth extend

Not a frown further. Go release them, Ariel.

My charms I’ll break, their senses I’ll restore,

And they shall be themselves.

ARIEL

I’ll fetch them, sir.

Exit

⌈Prospero draws a circle with his staff⌉

PROSPERO

Ye elves of hills, brooks, standing lakes and groves,

And ye that on the sands with printless foot

Do chase the ebbing Neptune, and do fly him

When he comes back; you demi-puppets that

By moonshine do the green sour ringlets make

Whereof the ewe not bites; and you whose pastime

Is to make midnight mushrooms, that rejoice

To hear the solemn curfew; by whose aid,

Weak masters though ye be, I have bedimmed

The noontide sun, called forth the mutinous winds,

And ‘twixt the green sea and the azured vault

Set roaring war—to the dread rattling thunder

Have I given fire, and rifted Jove’s stout oak

With his own bolt; the strong-based promontory

Have I made shake, and by the spurs plucked up

The pine and cedar; graves at my command

Have waked their sleepers, oped, and let ’em forth

By my so potent art. But this rough magic

I here abjure. And when I have required

Some heavenly music—which even now I do—

To work mine end upon their senses that

This airy charm is for, I’ll break my staff,

Bury it certain fathoms in the earth,

And deeper than did ever plummet sound

I’ll drown my book.

Solemn music. Here enters first Ariel, invisible; then Alonso, with a frantic gesture, attended by Gonzalo; Sebastian and Antonio, in like manner, attended by Adrian and Francisco. They all enter the circle which Prospero had made, and there stand charmed; which Prospero observing, speaks

(To Alonso) A solemn air, and the best comforter

To an unsettled fancy, cure thy brains,

Now useless, boiled within thy skull.

(To Sebastian and Antonio) There stand,

For you are spelt-stopped.—

Holy Gonzalo, honourable man,

Mine eyes, ev’n sociable to the show of thine,

Fall fellowly drops. (Aside) The charm dissolves apace,

And as the morning steals upon the night,

Melting the darkness, so their rising senses

Begin to chase the ignorant fumes that mantle

Their clearer reason.—O good Gonzalo,

My true preserver, and a loyal sir

To him thou follow’st, I will pay thy graces

Home both in word and deed.—Most cruelly

Didst thou, Alonso, use me and my daughter.