Chapter XIII: Act III: SCENE I.--A Wild Island

_Enter_ FERDINAND, ARIEL, _and_ MILCHA _invisible_.

Ariel. _Come unto these yellow sands,
And then take hands,
Curtsied when you have, and kissed;
And wild waves whist.
Foot it featly here and there,
And sweet sprites the burthen bear.
Hark! hark!
Bow waugh, the watch-dogs bark.
Bow waugh. Hark! hark! I hear
The strain of strutting Chanticleer,
Cry, Cock a doodle do._

_Ferd._ Where should this music be? in the air, or earth?
It sounds no more, and sure it waits upon
Some God in the island: Sitting on a bank,
Weeping against the duke my father's wreck,
This music hovered on the waters,
Allaying both their fury, and my passion,
With charming airs. Thence I have followed it,
(Or it has drawn me rather) but 'tis gone:
No, it begins again.

MILCHA SINGS.

_Full fathom five thy father lies,
Of his bones is coral made:
Those are pearls that were his eyes;
Nothing of him, that does fade,
But does suffer a sea change,
Into something rich and strange:
Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell;
Hark! now I hear them, ding dong bell._

_Ferd._ This mournful ditty mentions my drowned father.
This is no mortal business, nor a sound
Which the earth owns----I hear it now before me;
However, I will on, and follow it.
[_Exit_ FERD. _following_ ARIEL.

SCENE II.--_The Cypress Trees and Cave._

_Enter_ PROSPERO _and_ MIRANDA.

_Prosp._ Excuse it not, Miranda, for to you
(The elder, and, I thought, the more discreet,)
I gave the conduct of your sister's actions.

_Mir._ Sir, when you called me thence, I did not fail
To mind her of her duty to depart.

_Prosp._ How can I think you did remember hers,
When you forgot your own? did you not see
The man, whom I commanded you to shun?

_Mir._ I must confess I saw him at a distance.

_Prosp._ Did not his eyes infect and poison you?
What alteration found you in yourself?

_Mir._ I only wondered at a sight so new.

_Prosp._ But have you no desire once more to see him?
Come, tell me truly what you think of him.

_Mir._ As of the gayest thing I ever saw,
So fine, that it appeared more fit to be
Beloved than feared, and seemed so near my kind,
That I did think I might have called it sister.

_Prosp._ You do not love it?

_Mir._ How is it likely that I should,
Except the thing had first loved me?

_Prosp._ Cherish those thoughts: You have a generous soul;
And since I see your mind not apt to take
The light impressions of a sudden love,
I will unfold a secret to your knowledge.
That creature, which you saw, is of a kind,
Which nature made a prop and guide to yours.

_Mir._ Why did you then propose him as an object
Of terror to my mind? You never used
To teach me any thing but god-like truths,
And what you said, I did believe as sacred.

_Prosp._ I feared the pleasing form of this young man
Might unawares possess your tender breast,
Which for a nobler guest I had designed;
For shortly, my Miranda, you shall see
Another of this kind, the full blown flower,
Of which this youth was but the opening bud.
Go in, and send your sister to me.

_Mir._ Heaven still preserve you, sir.
[_Exit_ MIR.

_Prosp._ And make thee fortunate.

_Enter_ DORINDA.

Oh, come hither: you have seen a man to-day,
Against my strict command.

_Dor._ Who, I? Indeed I saw him but a little, sir.

_Prosp._ Come, come, be clear. Your sister told me all.

_Dor._ Did she?
Truly she would have seen him more than I,
But that I would not let her.

_Prosp._ Why so?

_Dor._ Because, methought, he would have hurt me less,
Than he would her.
But if I knew you'd not be angry with me,
I could tell you, sir, that he was much to blame.

_Prosp._ Ha! was he to blame?
Tell me, with that sincerity I taught you,
How you became so bold to see the man?

_Dor._ I hope you will forgive me, sir, because
I did not see him much, till he saw me.
Sir, he would needs come in my way, and stared,
And stared upon my face, and so I thought
I would be revenged of him, and, therefore,
I gazed on him as long; but if I e'er
Come near a man again!

_Prosp._ I told you he
Was dangerous; but you would not be warned.

_Dor._ Pray be not angry, sir, if I tell you,
You are mistaken in him; for he did
Me no great hurt.

_Prosp._ But he may do you more harm hereafter.

_Dor._ No, sir, I'm as well as e'er I was in all my life,
But that I cannot eat nor drink for thought of him.
That dangerous man runs ever in my mind.

_Prosp._ The way to cure you is, no more to see him.

_Dor._ Nay, pray, sir, say not so. I promised him
To see him once again; and you know, sir,
You charged me I should never break my promise.

_Prosp._ Would you see him, who did you so much mischief?

_Dor._ I warrant you
I did him as much harm as he did me;
For when I left him, sir, he sighed so, as it grieved
My heart to hear him.

_Prosp._ Those sighs were poisonous, they infected you;
You say, they grieved you to the heart.

_Dor._ 'Tis true; but yet his looks and words were gentle.

_Prosp._ These are the day-dreams of a maid in love;
But still I fear the worst.

_Dor._ O fear not him, sir.

_Prosp._ You speak of him with too much passion; tell me,
(And on your duty tell me true, Dorinda,)
What passed betwixt you and that horrid creature?

_Dor._ How, horrid, sir? if any else but you
Should call it so, indeed, I should be angry.

_Prosp._ Go to! You are a foolish girl; but answer
To what I ask; what thought you when you saw it?

_Dor._ At first it stared upon me, and seemed wild,
And then I trembled; yet it looked so lovely,
That when I would have fled away, my feet
Seemed fastened to the ground, when it drew near,
And with amazement asked to touch my hand;
Which, as a ransom for my life, I gave:
But when he had it, with a furious gripe
He put it to his mouth so eagerly,
I was afraid he would have swallowed it.

_Prosp._ Well, what was his behaviour afterwards?

_Dor._ He on a sudden grew so tame and gentle,
That he became more kind to me than you are;
Then, sir, I grew I know not how, and, touching
His hand again, my heart did beat so strong,
As I lacked breath to answer what he asked.

_Prosp._ You've been too fond, and I should chide you for it.

_Dor._ Then send me to that creature to be punished.

_Prosp._ Poor child! Thy passion, like a lazy ague,
Has seized thy blood; instead of striving, thou humourest
And feed'st thy languishing disease: Thou fight'st
The battles of thy enemy, and 'tis one part of what
I threatened thee, not to perceive thy danger.

_Dor._ Danger, sir?
If he would hurt me, yet he knows not how:
He hath no claws, nor teeth, nor horns to hurt me,
But looks about him like a callow-bird,
Just straggling from the nest: Pray trust me, sir,
To go to him again.

_Prosp._ Since you will venture,
I charge you bear yourself reservedly to him;
Let him not dare to touch your naked hand,
But keep at distance from him.

_Dor._ This is hard!

_Prosp._ It is the way to make him love you more;
He will despise you, if you grow too kind.

_Dor._ I'll struggle with my heart to follow this;
But if I lose him by it, will you promise
To bring him back again?

_Prosp._ Fear not, Dorinda;
But use him ill, and he'll be yours for ever.

_Dor._ I hope you have not cozened me again.
[_Exit_ DOR.

_Prosp._ Now my designs are gathering to a head;
My spirits are obedient to my charms.
What, Ariel! My servant Ariel, where art thou?

_Enter_ ARIEL.

_Ariel._ What would my potent master? Here I am.

_Prosp._ Thou and thy meaner fellows your last service
Did worthily perform, and I must use you
In such another work: How goes the day?

_Ariel._ On the fourth, my lord; and on the sixth,
You said our work should cease.

_Prosp._ And so it shall;
And thou shalt have the open air at freedom.

_Ariel._ Thanks, my great lord.

_Prosp._ But tell me first, my spirit,
How fares the duke, my brother, and their followers?

_Ariel._ Confined together, as you gave me order,
In the lime-grove, which weather-fends your cell;
Within that circuit up and down they wander,
But cannot stir one step beyond their compass.

_Prosp._ How do they bear their sorrows?

_Ariel._ The two dukes appear like men distracted, their
Attendants, brim-full of sorrow, mourning over them;
But chiefly he, you termed the good Gonzalo:
His tears run down his beard, like winter drops
From eaves of reeds; your vision did so work them,
That, if you now beheld them, your affections
Would become tender.

_Prosp._ Dost thou think so, spirit?

_Ariel._ Mine would, sir, were I human.

_Prosp._ And mine shall:
Hast thou, who art but air, a touch, a feeling
Of their afflictions, and shall not I (a man
Like them, one, who as sharply relish passions
As they) be kindlier moved than thou art?
Though they have pierced me to the quick with injuries,
Yet with my nobler reason, 'gainst my fury,
I will take part; the rarer action is
In virtue, than in vengeance. Go, my Ariel,
Refresh with needful food their famished bodies,
With shows and chearful musick comfort them.

_Ariel._ Presently, master?

_Prosp._ With a twinkle, Ariel.--But stay, my spirit;
What is become of my slave, Caliban,
And Sycorax, his sister?

_Ariel._ Potent sir,
They have cast off your service, and revolted
To the wrecked mariners, who have already
Parcelled your island into governments.

_Prosp._ No matter, I have now no need of them.
But, spirit, now I stay thee on the wing;
Haste to perform what I have given in charge:
But see they keep within the bounds I set them.

_Ariel._ I'll keep them in with walls of adamant,
Invisible as air to mortal eyes,
But yet unpassable.

_Prosp._ Make haste then.
[_Exeunt severally._

SCENE III.--_Wild Island._

_Enter_ ALONZO, ANTONIO, _and_ GONZALO.

_Gonz._ I am weary, and can go no further, sir.

_Alon._ Old lord, I cannot blame thee, who am myself seized with a
weariness, to the dulling of my spirits:
[_They sit._
Even here I will put off my hope, and keep it
No longer for my flatterers: He is drowned,
Whom thus we stray to find. I'm faint with hunger,
And must despair of food.
[_Music without._
What! harmony again? My good friends, hark!

_Anto._ I fear some other horrid apparition.
Give us kind keepers, heaven, I beseech thee!

_Gonz._ 'Tis chearful music this, unlike the first.

ARIEL _and_ MILCHA _invisible, sing_.

_Dry those eyes which are o'erflowing,
All your storms are overblowing:
While you in this isle are biding,
You shall feast without providing:
Every dainty you can think of,
Every wine which you would drink of,
Shall be yours; all want shall shun you,
Ceres' blessing so is on you._

_Alon._ This voice speaks comfort to us.

_Anto._ Would 'twere come;
There is no music in a song to me,
My stomach being empty.

_Gonz._ O for a heavenly vision of boiled,
Baked, and roasted!
[_Dance of fantastic Spirits; after the dance,
in by two a table furnished with meat and fruit
is brought Spirits._

_Anto._ My lord, the duke, see yonder!
A table, as I live, set out and furnished
With all varieties of meats and fruits.

_Alon._ 'Tis so indeed; but who dares taste this feast,
Which fiends provide, to poison us?

_Gonz._ Why that dare I; if the black gentleman
Be so ill natured, he may do his pleasure.

_Anto._ 'Tis certain we must either eat or famish:
I will encounter it, and feed.

_Alon._ If both resolve, I will adventure too.

_Gonz._ The devil may fright me, yet he shall not starve me.
[_Two Spirits descend, and fly away with the table._

_Alon._ Heaven! behold, it is as you suspected:
'Tis vanished.
Shall we be always haunted with these fiends?

_Anto._ Here we shall wander till we famish.

_Gonz._ Certainly one of you was so wicked as to say grace; this comes
on it, when men will be godly out of season.

_Anto._ Yonder's another table, let's try that.
[_Exeunt._

_Enter_ TRINCALO _and_ CALIBAN.

_Trinc._ Brother monster, welcome to my private palace. But where's thy sister? is she so brave a lass?

_Calib._ In all this isle there are but two more, the daughters of the tyrant Prospero; and she is bigger than them both. O, here she comes! now thou mayest judge thyself, my lord.

_Enter_ SYCORAX.

_Trinc._ She's monstrous fair indeed. Is this to be my spouse? Well, she's heir of all this isle (for I will geld monster). The Trincalos, like other wise men, have anciently used to marry for estate, more than for beauty.

_Syc._ I pr'ythee let me have the gay thing about thy neck, and that which dangles at thy wrist. [Sycorax _points to his whistle and his bottle_.

_Trinc._ My dear blubber-lips! this--observe, my chuck--is a badge of my sea-office; my fair fuss, thou dost not know it.

_Syc._ No, my dread lord.

_Trinc._ It shall be a whistle for our first babe, and when the next shipwreck puts me again to swimming, I'll dive to get a coral to it.

_Syc._ I'll be thy pretty child, and wear it first.

_Trinc._ I pr'ythee, sweet baby, do not play the wanton, and cry for my goods ere I'm dead. When thou art my widow, thou shalt have the devil and all.

_Syc._ May I not have the other fine thing?

_Trinc._ This is a sucking-bottle for young Trincalo.

_Calib._ Shall she not taste of that immortal liquor?

_Trinc._ Umph! that's another question: For if she be thus flippant in her water, what will she be in her wine?

_Enter_ ARIEL _(invisible) and changes the Bottle which stands upon the Ground._

_Ariel._ There's water for your wine.
[_Exit_ ARIEL.

_Trinc._ Well! since it must be so.
[_Gives her the bottle._
How do you like it now, my queen that must be?
[_She drinks._

_Syc._ Is this your heav'nly liquor? I'll bring you to a river of the same.

_Trinc._ Wilt thou so, Madam Monster? What a mighty prince shall I be then! I would not change my dukedom to be great Turk Trincalo.

_Syc._ This is the drink of frogs.

_Trinc._ Nay, if the frogs of this island drink such, they are the merriest frogs in Christendom.

_Calib._ She does not know the virtue of this liquor: I pr'ythee, let me drink for her. [Caliban _drinks_.

_Trinc._ Well said, Subject Monster!

_Calib._ My lord, this is mere water.

_Trinc._ 'Tis thou hast changed the wine then, and drunk it up, like a debauched fish as thou art. Let me see't, I'll taste it myself--Element! mere element, as I live! It was a cold gulp, such as this, which killed my famous predecessor, old Simon the king[F].

_Calib._ How does thy honour? pr'ythee, be not angry, and I will lick thy shoe.

_Trinc._ I could find in my heart to turn thee out of my dominions, for a liquorish monster.

_Calib._ O, my lord, I have found it out; this must be done by one of Prospero's spirits.

_Trinc._ There's nothing but malice in these devils;
I would it had been holy-water for their sakes!

_Syc._ 'Tis no matter, I will cleave to thee.

_Trinc._ Lovingly said, in troth: Now cannot I hold out against her. This wife-like virtue of her's has overcome me.

_Syc._ Shall I have thee in my arms?

_Trinc._ Thou shalt have Duke Trincalo in thy arms: But, pr'ythee, be not too boisterous with me at first; do not discourage a young beginner. [_They embrace_.] Stand to your arms, my spouse, and subject monster,--

_Enter_ STEPHANO, MUSTACHO, _and_ VENTOSO.

The enemy is come to surprise us in our quarters.
You shall know, rebels, that I am married to a
witch, and we have a thousand spirits of our party.

_Steph._ Hold! I ask a truce; I and my viceroys (finding no food, and but a small remainder of brandy,) are come to treat a peace betwixt us, which may be for the good of both armies; therefore, Trincalo, disband.

_Trinc._ Plain Trincalo! methinks I might have been a duke in your mouth; I'll not accept of your embassy without my title.

_Steph._ A title shall break no squares betwixt us: Viceroys, give him his style of duke, and treat with him whilst I walk by in state.

[VENTOSO _and_ MUSTACHO _bow, whilst_ TRINCALO _puts on his Cap_.

_Must._ Our lord and master, Duke Stephano, has sent us, in the first place, to demand of you, upon what ground you make war against him; having no right to govern here, as being elected only by your own voice.

_Trinc._ To this I answer, That, having in the face of the world espoused the lawful inheretrix of this island, Queen Blouze the First, and having homage done me by this hectoring spark her brother; from these two I claim a lawful title to this island.

_Must._ Who, that monster? He a Hector?

_Calib._ Lo, how he mocks me! wilt thou let him, my lord?

_Trinc._ Viceroys! keep good tongues in your heads, I advise you, and proceed to your business.

_Must._ First and foremost, as to your claim, that you have answered.

_Vent._ But, second and foremost, we demand of you, that if we make a peace, the butt also may be comprehended in the treaty.

_Trinc._ I cannot treat with my honour, without your submission.

_Steph._ I understand, being present, from my ambassadors, what your resolution is, and ask an hour's time of deliberation, and so I take our leave; but first I desire to be entertained at your butt, as becomes a prince and his ambassadors.

_Trinc._ That I refuse, till acts of hostility be ceased. These rogues are rather spies than ambassadors. I must take heed of my butt. They come to pry into the secrets of my dukedom.

_Vent._ Trincalo, you are a barbarous prince, and so farewell.
[_Exeunt_ STEPH. MUST. _and_ VENT.

_Trinc._ Subject-monster! stand you sentry before my cellar; my queen and I will enter, and feast ourselves within. [_Exeunt._

SCENE IV.

_Enter_ FERDINAND, _and_ ARIEL _and_ MILCHA _invisible_.

_Ferd._ How far will this invisible musician
Conduct my steps? he hovers still about me;
Whether for good or ill, I cannot tell,
Nor care I much; for I have been so long
A slave to chance, that I'm as weary of
Her flatteries as her frowns; but here I am----

_Ariel._ Here I am.

_Ferd._ Ha! art thou so? the spirit's turned an echo:
This might seem pleasant, could the burden of
My griefs accord with any thing but sighs;
And my last words, like those of dying men,
Need no reply. Fain I would go to shades,
Where few would wish to follow me.

_Ariel._ Follow me.

_Ferd._ This evil spirit grows importunate,
But I'll not take his counsel.

_Ariel._ Take his counsel.

_Ferd._ It may be the devil's counsel, I'll never take it.

_Ariel._ Take it.

_Ferd._ I will discourse no more with thee,
Nor follow one step further.

_Ariel._ One step further.

_Ferd._ This must have more importance than an echo;
Some spirit tempts me to a precipice.
I'll try if it will answer when I sing
My sorrows, to the murmur of this brook.

HE SINGS.

_Go thy way._

Ariel. _Go thy way._

Ferd. _Why shouldst thou stay?_

Ariel. _Why shouldst thou stay?_

Ferd. _Where the winds whistle, and where the streams creep,
Under yon willow-tree fain would I sleep.
Then let me alone,
For 'tis time to be gone._

Ariel. _For 'tis time to be gone._

Ferd. _What cares or pleasures can be in this isle?
Within this desart place,
There lives no human race;
Fate cannot frown here, nor kind fortune smile._

Ariel. _Kind fortune smiles, and she
Has yet in store for thee
Some strange felicity.
Follow me, follow me,
And thou shalt see._

_Ferd._ I'll take thy word for once;
Lead on, musician.
[_Exeunt and return._

SCENE V.--_The Cypress-trees and Caves._

_Scene changes, and discovers_ PROSPERO _and_ MIRANDA.

_Prosp._ Advance the fringed curtains of thine eyes,
And say what thou seest yonder.

_Mir._ Is it a spirit?
Lord, how it looks about! Sir, I confess
it carries a brave form. But 'tis a spirit.

_Prosp._ No, girl, it eats, and sleeps, and has such senses
As we have. This young gallant, whom thou see'st,
Was in the wreck; were he not somewhat stained
With grief, (beauty's worst canker) thou might'st call him
A goodly person; he has lost his company,
And strays about to find them.

_Mir._ I might call him
A thing divine, for nothing natural
I ever saw so noble.

_Prosp._ It goes on,
As my soul prompts it: Spirit, fine spirit,
I'll free thee within two days for this.
[_Aside._

_Ferd._ She's sure the mistress on whom these airs attend.
Fair excellence! if, as your form declares,
You are divine, be pleased to instruct me how
You will be worshipped; so bright a beauty
Cannot sure belong to human kind.

_Mir._ I am, like you, a mortal, if such you are.

_Ferd._ My language, too! O heavens! I am the best
Of them who speak this speech, when I'm in my
Own country.

_Prosp._ How, the best? what wert thou, if
The duke of Savoy heard thee?

_Ferd._ As I am now;
Who wonders to hear thee speak of Savoy;
He does hear me, and that he does, I weep.
Myself am Savoy, whose fatal eyes (ne'er since at ebb) beheld
The duke, my father, wrecked.

_Mir._ Alack! for pity!

_Prosp._ At the first sight they have changed eyes.
Dear Ariel, I'll set thee free for this.--
[_Aside._
Young sir, a word.
With hazard of yourself you do me wrong.

_Mir._ Why speaks my father so ungently? This is
The third man that I ever saw, the first
Whom e'er I sighed for; sweet heaven, move my father
To be inclined my way.

_Ferd._ O! if a virgin,
And your affections not gone forth, I'll make you
Mistress of Savoy.

_Prosp._ Soft, sir, one word more.--
They're in each other's power; but this swift business
I must uneasy make, lest too light winning
Make the prize light.--One word more. Thou usurp'st
The name not due to thee, hast put thyself
Upon this island as a spy, to get
The government from me, the lord of it.

_Ferd._ No, as I'm a man.

_Mir._ There's nothing ill can dwell in such a temple:
If the evil spirit hath so fair a house,
Good things will strive to dwell with it.

_Prosp._ No more. Speak not for him, he is a traitor.
Come! thou art my prisoner, and shalt be in bonds.
Sea-water shalt thou drink, thy food shall be
The fresh brook-muscles, withered roots and husks,
Wherein the acorn cradled;----follow.

_Ferd._ No, I will resist such entertainment,
Till my enemy has more power.
[_He draws, and is charmed from moving._

_Mir._ O dear father! make not too rash a trial
Of him; for he is gentle, and not fearful.

_Prosp._ My child my tutor! put thy sword up,
Traitor, who mak'st a show, but dar'st not strike:
Thy conscience is possessed with guilt.
Come from thy ward,
For I can here disarm thee with this wand,
And make thy weapon drop.

_Mir._ 'Beseech you, father.

_Prosp._ Hence: Hang not on my garment.

_Mir._ Sir, have pity!
I'll be his surety!

_Prosp._ Silence! one word more
Shall make me chide thee, if not hate thee: What!
An advocate for an impostor? sure
Thou think'st there are no more such shapes as his;
To the most of men this is a Caliban,
And they to him are angels.

_Mir._ My affections are then most humble;
I have no ambition to see a goodlier man.

_Prosp._ Come on, obey:
Thy nerves are in their infancy again,
And have no vigour in them.

_Ferd._ 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, and this man's threats,
To whom I am subdued, would seem light to me,
Might I but once a day thorough my prison
Behold this maid: All corners else o' the earth
Let liberty make use of: I have space
Enough in such a prison.

_Prosp._ It works: Come on:
Thou hast done well, fine Ariel: Follow me.
Hark what thou shalt do for me.
[_Whispers_ ARIEL.

_Mir._ Be of comfort!
My father's of a better nature, sir,
Than he appears by speech: This is unwonted,
Which now came from him.

_Prosp._ Thou shalt be free as mountain winds:
But then
Exactly do all points of my command.

_Ariel._ To a syllable.
[_Exit_ ARIEL.

_Prosp. to Mir._ Go in that way, speak not a word for him:
I'll separate you.
[_Exit_ MIRANDA.

_Ferd._ As soon thou may'st divide the waters, when
Thou strik'st 'em, which pursue thy bootless blow,
And meet when it is past.

_Prosp._ Go practise your philosophy within,
And if you are the same you speak yourself,
Bear your afflictions like a prince.--That door
Shews you your lodging.

_Ferd._ 'Tis in vain to strive, I must obey.
[_Exit_ FERD.

_Prosp._ This goes as I would wish it.
Now for my second care, Hippolito.
I shall not need to chide him for his fault,
His passion is become his punishment.
Come forth, Hippolito.

_Enter_ HIPPOLITO.

_Hip._ 'Tis Prospero's voice.

_Prosp._ Hippolito, I know you now expect
I should severely chide you: You have seen
A woman, in contempt of my commands.

_Hip._ But, sir, you see I am come off unharmed;
I told you, that you need not doubt my courage.

_Prosp._ You think you have received no hurt?

_Hip._ No, none, sir.
Try me again; whene'er you please I'm ready:
I think I cannot fear an army of them.

_Prosp._ How much in vain it is to bridle nature!
[_Aside._
Well, what was the success of your encounter?

_Hip._ Sir, we had none, we yielded both at first;
For I took her to mercy, and she me.

_Prosp._ But are you not much changed from what you were?

_Hip._ Methinks, I wish, and wish!--for what I know not,--
But still I wish:--Yet if I had that woman,
She, I believe, could tell me what I wish for.

_Prosp._ What would you do to make that woman yours?

_Hip._ I'd quit the rest o'the world, that I might live
Alone with her; she never should be from me:
We two would sit and look till our eyes ached.

_Prosp._ You'd soon be weary of her.

_Hip._ O, sir, never.

_Prosp._ But you'll grow old and wrinkled, as you see
Me now, and then you will not care for her.

_Hip._ You may do what you please; but, sir, we two
Can never possibly grow old.

_Prosp._ You must, Hippolito.

_Hip._ Whether we will or no, sir! who shall make us?

_Prosp._ Nature, which made me so.

_Hip._ But you have told me, that her works are various:
She made you old, but she has made us young.

_Prosp._ Time will convince you.--
Meanwhile, be sure you tread in honour's paths,
That you may merit her: And that you may not
Want fit occasions to employ your virtue,
In this next cave there is a stranger lodged,
One of your kind, young, of a noble presence,
And, as he says himself, of princely birth;
He is my prisoner, and in deep affliction:
Visit, and comfort him; it will become you.

_Hip._ It is my duty, sir.
[_Exit_ HIP.

_Prosp._ True, he has seen a woman, yet he lives!--
Perhaps I took the moment of his birth
Amiss: Perhaps my art itself is false.--
On what strange grounds we build our hopes and fears!
Man's life is all a mist! and, in the dark,
Our fortunes meet us.
If fate be not, then what can we foresee?
Or how can we avoid it, if it be?
If by free will in our own paths we move,
How are we bounded by decrees above?
Whether we drive, or whether we are driven,
If ill, 'tis ours: if good, the act of heaven.
[_Exit._

SCENE VI.--_A Cave_.

_Enter_ HIPPOLITO _and_ FERDINAND.

_Ferd._ Your pity, noble youth, doth much oblige me.
Indeed, 'twas sad to lose a father so.

_Hip._ Ay, and an only father too; for sure
You said, you had but one.

_Ferd._ But one father! He's wondrous simple.
[_Aside._

_Hip._ Are such misfortunes frequent in your world,
Where many men live?

_Ferd._ Such are we born to.--
But, gentle youth, as you have questioned me,
So give me leave to ask you, what you are?

_Hip._ Do not you know?

_Ferd._ How should I?

_Hip._ I well hoped
I was a man, but, by your ignorance
Of what I am, I fear it is not so.--
Well, Prospero! this is now the second time
You have deceived me.

_Ferd._ Sir, there is no doubt
You are a man: But I would know, of whence?

_Hip._ Why, of this world; I never was in yours.

_Ferd._ Have you a father?

_Hip._ I was told I had one,
And that he was a man; yet I have been
So much deceived, I dare not tell't you for
A truth: But I have still been kept a prisoner,
For fear of women.

_Ferd._ They, indeed, are dangerous;
For, since I came, I have beheld one here,
Whose beauty pierced my heart.

_Hip._ How did she pierce? You seem not hurt.

_Ferd._ Alas! the wound was made by her bright eyes,
And festers by her absence.
But, to speak plainer to you, sir, I love her.

_Hip._ Now, I suspect that love's the very thing,
That I feel too!--Pray tell me truly, sir,
Are you not grown unquiet since you saw her?

_Ferd._ I take no rest.

_Hip._ Just, just, my disease.--
Do you not wish, you do not know for what?

_Ferd._ O, no! I know too well for what I wish.

_Hip._ There, I confess, I differ from you, sir:
But you desire she may be always with you?

_Ferd._ I can have no felicity without her.

_Hip._ Just my condition.--Alas, gentle sir!
I'll pity you, and you shall pity me.

_Ferd._ I love so much, that, if I have her not,
I find I cannot live.

_Hip._ How! do you love her,
And would you have her too? That must not be:
For none but I must have her.

_Ferd._ But perhaps we do not love the same:
All beauties are not pleasing alike to all.

_Hip._ Why, are there more fair women, sir,
Besides that one I love?

_Ferd._ That's a strange question. There are many more,
Besides that beauty which you love.

_Hip._ I will have all
Of that kind, if there be a hundred of them.

_Ferd._ But, noble youth, you know not what you say.

_Hip._ Sir, they are things I love, I cannot be
Without them!--O, how I rejoice!--More women!

_Ferd._ Sir, if you love, you must be tied to one.

_Hip._ Tied! How tied to her?

_Ferd._ To love none but her.

_Hip._ But, sir, I find it is against my nature.
I must love where I like; and, I believe, I may like all,--
All that are fair. Come, bring me to this woman,
For I must have her.

_Ferd._ His simplicity
Is such, that I can scarce be angry with him.--
[_Aside._
Perhaps, sweet youth, when you behold her, you
Will find you do not love her.

_Hip._ I find already
I love, because she is another woman.

_Ferd._ You cannot love two women both at once.

_Hip._ Sure 'tis my duty to love all who do
Resemble her, whom I've already seen.
I'll have as many as I can, that are
So good, and angel-like, as she I love;
And will have yours.

_Ferd._ Pretty youth, you cannot.

_Hip._ I can do any thing for that I love.

_Ferd._ I may, perhaps, by force, restrain you from it.

_Hip._ Why, do so, if you can. But either promise me
To love no woman, or you must try your force.

_Ferd._ I cannot help it, I must love.

_Hip._ Well, you may love;
For Prospero taught me friendship too. You shall
Love me, and other men, if you can find them;
But all the angel women shall be mine.

_Ferd._ I must break off this conference, or he
Will urge me else beyond what I can bear.--
[_Aside._
Sweet youth, some other time we will speak
Farther concerning both our loves; at present
I am indisposed with weariness and grief,
And would, if you're so pleased, retire a while.

_Hip._ Some other time be it; but, sir, remember,
That I both seek and much entreat your friendship;
For, next to women, I find I can love you.

_Ferd._ I thank you, sir, I will consider of it.
[_Exit_ FERD.

_Hip._ This stranger does insult, and comes into
My world, to take those heavenly beauties from me,
Which, I believe, I am inspired to love.--
And yet he said, he did desire but one:
He would be poor in love, but I'll be rich.--
I now perceive that Prospero was cunning;
For when he frightened me from womankind,
Those precious things he for himself designed.
[_Exit._

[Footnote F: This personage, who has bequeathed his name to a well-known tune, is believed to have been Simon Wadloe, or Wadlow, master of the Devil Tavern, when frequented by Ben Jonson.]