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waspish-headed son has broke his arrows, Swears he will shoot no more, but play with sparrows, And be a
boy right out.
CERES. Highest Queen of State, Great Juno comes; I know her by her gait.
[Enter JUNO.]
JUNO. How does my bounteous sister? Go with me To bless this twain, that they may prosperous be, And
honour'd in their issue.
SONG
JUNO. Honour, riches, marriage-blessing, Long continuance, and increasing, Hourly joys be still upon you!
Juno sings her blessings on you.
CERES. Earth's increase, foison plenty, Barns and gamers never empty; Vines with clust'ring bunches
growing; Plants with goodly burden bowing; Spring come to you at the farthest, In the very end of harvest!
Scarcity and want shall shun you; Ceres' blessing so is on you.
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 call'd to enact My present fancies.
FERDINAND. Let me live here ever: So rare a wonder'd 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 marr'd.
IRIS. You nymphs, call'd Naiads, of the windring brooks, With your sedg'd 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]
Information prepared by the Project Gutenberg legal advisor 37
You sun-burn'd 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; after which, to a strange, hollow, and confused noise, they
heavily vanish.]
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!
FERDINAND. This is strange: your father's in some passion That works him strongly.
MIRANDA. Never till this day Saw I him touch'd with anger so distemper'd.
PROSPERO. You do look, my son, in a mov'd sort, As if you were dismay'd: be cheerful, sir: Our revels now
are ended. These our actors, As I foretold you, were all spirits and Are melted into air, into thin air: And, like
the baseless fabric of this vision, The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces, The solemn temples, the
great globe itself, Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve And, like this insubstantial pageant faded, Leave not
a rack behind. We are such stuff As dreams are made on, and our little life Is rounded with a sleep.--Sir, I am
vex'd: Bear with my weakness; my old brain is troubled. Be not disturb'd with my infirmity. If you be pleas'd,
retire into my cell And there repose: a turn or two I'll walk, To still my beating mind.
FERDINAND, MIRANDA. We wish your peace.
[Exeunt.]
PROSPERO. Come, with a thought.--[To them.] I thank thee: Ariel, come!
[Enter ARIEL.]
ARIEL. Thy thoughts I cleave to. What's thy pleasure?
PROSPERO. Spirit, We must prepare to meet with Caliban.
ARIEL. Ay, my commander; when I presented Ceres, I thought to have told thee of it: but I fear'd Lest I might
anger thee.
PROSPERO. Say again, where didst thou leave these varlets?
ARIEL. I told you, sir, they were red-hot with drinking; So full of valour that they smote the air For breathing
in their faces; beat the ground For kissing of their feet; yet always bending Towards their project. Then I beat
my tabor; At which, like unback'd colts, they prick'd their ears, Advanc'd their eyelids, lifted up their noses As
they smelt music: so I charm'd their ears, That calf-like they my lowing follow'd through Tooth'd briers, sharp
furzes, pricking goss and thorns, Which enter'd their frail shins: at last I left them I' the filthy-mantled pool
beyond your cell, There dancing up to the chins, that the foul lake O'erstunk their feet.
PROSPERO. This was well done, my bird. Thy shape invisible retain thou still: The trumpery in my house, go
bring it hither For stale to catch these thieves.
ARIEL. I go, I go.
[Exit]
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PROSPERO. A devil, a born devil, on whose nature Nurture can never stick; on whom my pains, Humanely
taken, all, all lost, quite lost; And as with age his body uglier grows, So his mind cankers. I will plague them
all, Even to roaring.
[Re-enter ARIEL, loaden with glistering apparel, &c.]
Come, hang them on this line.
[PROSPERO and ARIEL remain invisible. Enter CALIBAN, STEPHANO, and TRINCULO, all wet]
CALIBAN. Pray you, tread softly, that the blind mole may not Hear a foot fall: we now are near his cell. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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