Alack, for pity!

I, not rememb’ring how I cried out then,

Will cry it o’er again: it is a hint,

That wrings mine eyes to ’t.

PROSPERO.                                              Hear a little further,

And then I ’ll bring thee to the present business

Which now ’s upon us; without the which this story

Were most impertinent.

MIRANDA.                                              Wherefore did they not

That hour destroy us?

PROSPERO.                                              Well demanded, wench:

My tale provokes that question. Dear, they durst not,

So dear the love my people bore me, nor set

A mark so bloody on the business; but

With colours fairer painted their foul ends.

In few, they hurried us aboard a bark,

Bore us some leagues to sea; where they prepar’d

A rotten carcass of a boat, not rigg’d,

Nor tackle, sail, nor mast; the very rats

Instinctively have quit it: there they hoist us,

To cry to the sea that roar’d to us; to sigh

To the winds whose pity, sighing back again,

Did us but loving wrong.

MIRANDA.                                              Alack! what trouble

Was I then to you!

PROSPERO.                                              O, a cherubin

Thou wast, that did preserve me! Thou didst smile.

Infused with a fortitude from heaven,

When I have deck’d the sea with drops full salt,

Under my burden groan’d; which rais’d in me

An undergoing stomach, to bear up

Against what should ensue.

MIRANDA.                                              How came we ashore?

PROSPERO. By Providence divine.

Some food we had and some fresh water that

A noble Neapolitan, Gonzalo,

Out of his charity,—who being then appointed

Master of this design,—did give us; with

Rich garments, linens, stuffs, and necessaries,

Which since have steaded much; so, of his gentleness,

Knowing I lov’d my books, he furnish’d me,

From mine own library with volumes that

I prize above my dukedom.

MIRANDA.                                              Would I might

But ever see that man!

PROSPERO.                                              Now I arise:—Resumes his mantle

Sit still, and hear the last of our sea-sorrow.

Here in this island we arriv’d; and here

Have I, thy schoolmaster, made thee more profit

Than other princes can, that have more time

For vainer hours and tutors not so careful.

MIRANDA. Heavens thank you for ’t! And now, I pray you,

sir,—

For still ’tis beating in my mind,—your reason

For raising this sea-storm?

PROSPERO.                                              Know thus far forth.

By accident most strange, bountiful Fortune,

Now my dear lady, hath mine enemies

Brought to this shore; and by my prescience

I find my zenith doth depend upon

A most auspicious star, whose influence

If now I court not but omit, my fortunes

Will ever after droop. Here cease more questions;

Thou art inclin’d to sleep; ’tis a good dulness,

And give it way;—I know thou canst not choose.—

Miranda sleeps

Come away, servant, come! I ’m ready now.

Approach, my Ariel; come!

Enter Ariel

ARIEL. All hail, great master! Grave sir, hail! I come

To answer thy best pleasure; be ’t to fly,

To swim, to dive into the fire, to ride

On the curl’d clouds: to thy strong bidding task

Ariel and all his quality.

PROSPERO.                                              Hast thou, spirit,

Perform’d to point the tempest that I bade thee?

ARIEL. To every article.