Scene II. {The island. Before Prospero's cell]
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Enter PROSPERO and MIRANDA
Mir. If by your art, my dearest father, you have
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Put the wild waters in this roar, allay them.
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The sky, it seems, would pour down stinking pitch,
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But that the sea, mounting to the welkin's cheek,
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Dashes the fire out. O, I have suffered
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With those that I saw suffer! A brave vessel,
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Who had, no doubt, some noble creature in her,
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Dash'd all to pieces! O, the cry did knock
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Against my very heart. Poor souls, they perish'd.
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Had I been any god of power, I would
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Have sunk the sea within the earth or ere
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It should the good ship so have swallow'd and
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The fraughting 1 souls within her.
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Pros. Be collected;
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No more amazement. Tell your piteous heart
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There's no harm done.
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Mir. O, woe the day!
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Pros. No harm.
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I have done nothing but in care of thee,
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Of thee, my dear one, thee, my daughter, who
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Art ignorant of what thou art, nought knowing
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Of whence I am, nor that I am more better
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Than Prospero, master of a full poor cell,
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And thy no greater father.
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Mir. More to know
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Did never meddle with my thoughts.
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Pros. 'Tis time
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I should inform thee farther. Lend thy hand,
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And pluck my magic garment from me. So, [Lays down his mantle.]
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Lie there, my art. Wipe thou thine eyes; have comfort.
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The direful spectacle of the wreck, which touch'd
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The very virtue of compassion in thee,
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I have with such provision in mine art
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So safely ordered that there is no soul-
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No, not so much perdition as an hair
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Betid to any creature in the vessel
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Which thou heard'st cry, which thou saw'st sink. Sit down;
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For thou must now know farther.
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Mir. You have often
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Begun to tell me what I am, but stopp'd
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And left me to a bootless inquisition,
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Concluding, "Stay, not yet."
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Pros. The hour's now come;
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The very minute bids thee ope thine ear.
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Obey and be attentive. Canst thou remember
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A time before we came unto this cell?
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I do not think thou canst, for then thou wast not
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Out three years old.
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Mir. Certainly, sir, I can.
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Pros. By what? By any other house or person?
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Of anything the image tell me, that
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Hath kept with thy remembrance.
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Mir. 'Tis far off
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And rather like a dream than an assurance
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That my remembrance warrants. Had I not
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Four or five women once that tended me?
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Pros. Thou hadst, and more, Miranda. But how is it
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That this lives in thy mind? What seest thou else
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In the dark backward and abysm 2 of time?
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If thou rememb'rest aught ere thou cam'st here,
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How thou cam'st here thou may'st.
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Mir. But that I do not.
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Pros. Twelve year since, Miranda, twelve year since,
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Thy father was the Duke of Milan and
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A prince of power.
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Mir. Sir, are not you my father?
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Pros. Thy mother was a piece of virtue, and
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She said thou wast my daughter; and thy father
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Was Duke of Milan, and his only heir
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And princess no worse issued.
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Mir. O the heavens!
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What foul play had we, that we came from thence?
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Or blessed was 't we did?
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Pros. Both, both, my girl.
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By foul play, as thou say'st, were we heav'd thence,
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But blessedly holp hither.
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Mir. O, my heart bleeds
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To think o' the teen 3 that I have turn'd you to,
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Which is from my remembrance! Please you, farther.
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Pros. My brother and thy uncle, call'd Antonio-
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I pray thee, mark me-that a brother should
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Be so perfidious!-he whom next thyself
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Of all the world I lov'd, and to him put
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The manage 4 of my state; as at that time
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Through all the signories 5 it was the first,
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And Prospero the prime duke, being so reputed
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In dignity, and for the liberal arts
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Without a parallel; those being all my study,
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The government I cast upon my brother
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And to my state grew stranger, being transported
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And rapt in secret studies. Thy false uncle-
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Dost thou attend me?
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Mir. Sir, most heedfully.
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Pros. Being once perfected how to grant suits,
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How to deny them, who to advance and who
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To trash for overtopping, 6 new created
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The creatures that were mine, I say, or chang'd 'em,
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Or else new form'd 'em; having both the key
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Of officer and office, set all hearts i' the state
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To what tune pleas'd his ear; that now he was
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The ivy which had hid my princely trunk,
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And suck'd my verdure out on 't. Thou attend'st not.
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Mir. O, good sir, I do.
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Pros. I pray thee, mark me.
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I, thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicated
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To closeness 7 and the bettering of my mind
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With that which, but by being so retir'd,
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O'er-priz'd all popular rate, 8 in my false brother
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Awak'd an evil nature; and my trust,
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Like a good parent, did beget of him
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A falsehood, in its contrary as great
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As my trust was; which had indeed no limit,
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A confidence sans 9 bound. He being thus lorded,
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Not only with what my revenue yielded,
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But what my power might else exact,-like one
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Who having into truth, by telling of it,
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Made such a sinner of his memory
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To credit his own lie,-he did believe
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He was indeed the Duke. Out o' the substitution, 10
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And executing the outward face of royalty,
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With all prerogative, hence his ambition growing-
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Dost thou hear?
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Mir. Your tale, sir, would cure deafness.
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Pros. To have no screen between this part he play'd
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And him he play'd it for, he needs will be
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Absolute Milan. Me, poor man!-my library
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Was dukedom large enough-of temporal royalties
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He thinks me now incapable; confederates-
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So dry 11 he was for sway-wi' the King of Naples
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To give him annual tribute, do him homage,
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Subject his coronet to his crown, and bend
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The dukedom yet unbow'd-alas, poor Milan!-
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To most ignoble stooping.
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Mir. O the heavens!
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Pros. Mark his condition and the event, then tell me
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If this might be a brother.
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Mir. I should sin
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To think but nobly of my grandmother.
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Good wombs have borne bad sons.
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Pros. Now the condition.
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This King of Naples, being an enemy
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To me inveterate, hearkens my brother's suit;
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Which was, that he, in lieu o' the premises 12
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Of homage and I know not how much tribute,
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Should presently extirpate me and mine
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Out of the dukedom, and confer fair Milan
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With all the honours on my brother; whereon,
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A treacherous army levied, one midnight
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Fated to the purpose did Antonio open
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The gates of Milan; and, i' the dead of darkness,
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The ministers for the purpose hurried thence
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Me and thy crying self.
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Mir. Alack, for pity!
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I, not rememb'ring how I cried out then,
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Will cry it o'er again. It is a hint 13
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That wrings mine eyes to 't.
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Pros. Hear a little further,
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And then I'll bring thee to the present business
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Which now's upon 's, without the which this story
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Were most impertinent. 14
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Mir. Wherefore did they not
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That hour destroy us?
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Pros. Well demanded, wench;
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My tale provokes that question. Dear, they durst not
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(So dear the love my people bore me) set
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A mark so bloody on the business; but
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With colours fairer painted their foul ends.
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In few, they hurried us aboard a bark,
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Bore us some leagues to sea; where they prepared
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A rotten carcass of a butt, 15 not rigg'd,
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Nor tackle, sail, nor mast; the very rats
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Instinctively have quit it. There they hoist us,
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To cry to the sea that roar'd to us, to sigh
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To the winds whose pity, sighing back again,
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Did us but loving wrong.
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Mir. Alack, what trouble
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Was I then to you!
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Pros. O, a cherubin
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Thou wast that did preserve me. Thou didst smile,
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Infused with a fortitude from heaven,
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When I have deck'd the sea with drops full salt,
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Under my burden groan'd; which rais'd in me
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An undergoing 16 stomach, to bear up
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Against what should ensue.
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Mir. How came we ashore?
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Pros. By Providence divine.
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Some food we had and some fresh water that
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A noble Neapolitan, Gonzalo,
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Out of his charity, who being then appointed
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Master of this design, did give us, with
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Rich garments, linens, stuffs, and necessaries,
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Which since have steaded much; 17 so, of his gentleness,
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Knowing I lov'd my books, he furnish'd me
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From mine own library with volumes that
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I prize above my dukedom.
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Mir. Would I might
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But ever see that man!
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Pros. Now I arise. [Puts on his robe.]
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Sit still, and hear the last of our sea-sorrow.
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Here in this island we arriv'd; and here
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Have I, thy schoolmaster, made thee more profit
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Than other princess can that have more time
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For vainer hours, and tutors not so careful.
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Mir. Heavens thank you for 't! And now, I pray you, sir,
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For still 'tis beating in my mind, your reason
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For raising this sea-storm?
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Pros. Know thus far forth.
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By accident most strange, bountiful Fortune,
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Now my dear lady, hath mine enemies
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Brought to this shore; and by my prescience
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I find my zenith 18 doth depend upon
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A most auspicious star, whose influence
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If now I court not but omit, my fortunes
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Will ever after droop. Here cease more questions.
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Thou art inclin'd to sleep; 'tis a good dulness,
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And give it way. I know thou canst not choose. [MIRANDA sleeps.]
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Come away, servant, come; I am ready now.
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Approach, my Ariel; come.
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Enter ARIEL
Ari. All hail, great master! grave sir, hail! I come
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To answer thy best pleasure, be 't to fly,
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To swim, to dive into the fire, to ride
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On the curl'd clouds. To thy strong bidding task
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Ariel and all his quality. 19
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Pros. Hast thou, spirit,
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Perform'd to point 20 the tempest that I bade thee?
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Ari. To every article.
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I boarded the king's ship; now on the beak,
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Now in the waist, the deck, in every cabin,
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I flam'd amazement. Sometime I'd divide,
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And burn in many places. On the topmast,
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The yards and bowsprit, would I flame distinctly,
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Then meet and join. Jove's lightnings, the precursors
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O' the dreadful thunder-claps, more momentary
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And sight-outrunning were not; the fire and cracks
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Of sulphurous roaring the most mighty Neptune
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Seem to besiege, and make his bold waves tremble,
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Yea, his dread trident shake.
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Pros. My brave spirit!
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Who was so firm, so constant, that this coil 21
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Would not infect his reason?
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Ari. Not a soul
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But felt a fever of the mad, and play'd
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Some tricks of desperation. All but mariners
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Plung'd in the foaming brine and quit the vessel,
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Then all afire with me. The King's son, Ferdinand,
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With hair up-staring,-then like reeds, not hair,-
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Was the first man that leap'd; cried, "Hell is empty,
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And all the devils are here."
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Pros. Why, that's my spirit!
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But was not this nigh shore?
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Ari. Close by, my master.
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Pros. But are they, Ariel, safe?
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Ari. Not a hair perish'd;
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On their sustaining garments not a blemish,
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But fresher than before; and, as thou bad'st me,
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In troops I have dispers'd them 'bout the isle.
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The King's son have I landed by himself,
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Whom I left cooling of the air with sighs
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In an odd angle of the isle, and sitting,
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His arms in this sad knot.
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Pros. Of the King's ship
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The mariners say how thou hast dispos'd,
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And all the rest o' the fleet.
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Ari. Safely in harbour
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Is the King's ship; in the deep nook, where once
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Thou call'dst me up at midnight to fetch dew
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From the still-vex'd Bermoothes, there she's hid;
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The mariners all under hatches stow'd,
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Who, with a charm join'd to their suff'red labour,
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I have left asleep; and for the rest o' the fleet,
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Which I dispers'd, they all have met again,
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And are upon the Mediterranean float 22
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Bound sadly home for Naples,
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Supposing that they saw the King's ship wreck'd
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And his great person perish.
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Pros. Ariel, thy charge
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Exactly is perform'd; but there's more work.
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What is the time o' the day?
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Ari. Past the mid season.
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Pros. At least two glasses. The time 'twixt six and now Must by us both be spent most preciously.
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Ari. Is there more toil? Since thou dost give me pains,
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Let me remember thee what thou hast promis'd,
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Which is not yet perform'd me.
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Pros. How now? moody?
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What is 't thou canst demand?
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Ari. My liberty.
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Pros. Before the time be out? No more!
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Ari. I prithee,
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Remember I have done thee worthy service,
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Told thee no lies, made thee no mistakings, serv'd
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Without or grudge or grumblings. Thou did promise
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To bate 23 me a full year.
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Pros. Dost thou forget
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From what a torment I did free thee?
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Ari. No.
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Pros. Thou dost, and think'st it much to tread the ooze
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Of the salt deep,
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To run upon the sharp wind of the north,
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To do me business in the veins o' the earth
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When it is bak'd with frost.
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Ari. I do not, sir.
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Pros. Thou liest, malignant thing! Hast thou forgot
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The foul witch Sycorax, who with age and envy
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Was grown into a hoop? Hast thou forgot her?
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Ari. No, sir.
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Pros. Thou hast. Where was she born? Speak; tell me.
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Ari. Sir, in Argier. 24
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Pros. O, was she so? I must
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Once in a month recount what thou hast been,
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Which thou forget'st. This damn'd witch Sycorax,
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For mischiefs manifold and sorceries terrible
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To enter human hearing, from Argier,
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Thou know'st, was banish'd; for one thing she did
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They would not take her life. Is not this true?
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Ari. Ay, sir.
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Pros. This blue-ey'd hag was hither brought with child,
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And here was left by the sailors. Thou, my slave,
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As thou report'st thyself, was then her servant;
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And, for thou wast a spirit too delicate
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To act her earthy and abhorr'd commands,
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Refusing her grand hests, 25 she did confine thee,
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By help of her more potent ministers
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And in her most unmitigable rage,
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Into a cloven pine; within which rift
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Imprison'd thou didst painfully remain
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A dozen years; within which space she died
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And left thee there, where thou didst vent thy groans
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As fast as mill-wheels strike. Then was this island-
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Save for the son that she did litter here,
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A freckl'd whelp, hag-born,-not honour'd with
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A human shape.
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Ari. Yes, Caliban her son.
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Pros. Dull thing, I say so; he, that Caliban
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Whom now I keep in service. Thou best know'st
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What torment I did find thee in; thy groans
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Did make wolves howl, and penetrate the breasts
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Of ever angry bears. It was a torment
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To lay upon the damn'd, which Sycorax
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Could not again undo. It was mine art,
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When I arriv'd and heard thee, that made gape
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The pine, and let thee out.
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Ari. I thank thee, master.
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Pros. If thou more murmur'st, I will rend an oak
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And peg thee in his knotty entrails till
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Thou hast howl'd away twelve winters.
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Ari. Pardon, master;
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I will be correspondent 26 to command
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And do my spiriting gently.
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Pros. Do so, and after two days
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I will discharge thee.
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Ari. That's my noble master!
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What shall I do? say what. What shall I do?
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Pros. Go make thyself like a nymph o' the sea; be subject
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To no sight but thine and mine, invisible
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To every eyeball else. Go take this shape
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And hither come in 't. Go, hence with diligence! Exit ARIEL.
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Awake, dear heart, awake! Thou hast slept well;
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Awake!
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Mir. The strangeness of your story put
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Heaviness in me.
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Pros. Shake it off. Come on,
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We'll visit Caliban my slave, who never
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Yields us kind answer.
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Mir. 'Tis a villain, sir,
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I do not love to look on.
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Pros. But, as 'tis,
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We cannot miss him. He does make our fire,
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Fetch in our wood, and serves in offices
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That profit us. What, ho! slave! Caliban!
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Thou earth, thou! speak.
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Cal. (Within.) There's wood enough within.
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Pros. Come forth, I say! there's other business for thee.
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Come, thou tortoise! when?
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Re-enter ARIEL like a water-nymph
Fine apparition! My quaint Ariel,
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Hark in thine ear.
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Ari. My lord, it shall be done. Exit.
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Pros. Thou poisonous slave, got by the devil himself
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Upon thy wicked dam, come forth!
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