Wherein the acorn cradled. Follow.
FERDINAND.
No;
I will resist such entertainment till
Mine enemy has more power.
[He draws, and is charmed from moving.]
MIRANDA.
O dear father!
Make not too rash a trial of him, for
He’s gentle, and not fearful.
PROSPERO.
What! I say,
My foot my tutor? Put thy sword up, traitor;
Who mak’st a show, but dar’st not strike, thy conscience
Is so possess’d with guilt: come from thy ward,
For I can here disarm thee with this stick
And make thy weapon drop.
MIRANDA.
Beseech you, father!
PROSPERO.
Hence! Hang not on my garments.
MIRANDA.
Sir, have pity;
I’ll be his surety.
PROSPERO.
Silence! One word more
Shall make me chide thee, if not hate thee. What!
An advocate for an impostor? hush!
Thou think’st there is no more such shapes as he,
Having seen but him and Caliban: foolish wench!
To the most of men this is a Caliban,
And they to him are angels.
MIRANDA.
My affections
Are then most humble; I have no ambition
To see a goodlier man.
PROSPERO.
[To FERDINAND] Come on; obey:
Thy nerves are in their infancy again,
And have no vigour in them.
FERDINAND.
So they are:
My spirits, as in a dream, are all bound up.
My father’s loss, the weakness which I feel,
The wrack of all my friends, nor this man’s threats,
To whom I am subdued, are but light to me,
Might I but through my prison once a day
Behold this maid: all corners else o’ th’ earth
Let liberty make use of; space enough
Have I in such a prison.
PROSPERO.
[Aside] It works.—[To FERDINAND] Come on.—
Thou hast done well, fine Ariel! [To FERDINAND] Follow me.—
[To ARIEL] Hark what thou else shalt do me.
MIRANDA.
Be of comfort;
My father’s of a better nature, sir,
Than he appears by speech: this is unwonted,
Which now came from him.
PROSPERO.
Thou shalt be as free
As mountain winds; but then exactly do
All points of my command.
ARIEL.
To the syllable.
PROSPERO.
[To FERDINAND] Come, follow.—Speak not for him.
[Exeunt]
ACT 2
SCENE I.—Another part of the island
[Enter ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, GONZALO, ADRIAN, FRANCISCO, and OTHERS]
GONZALO.
Beseech you, sir, be merry; you have cause,
So have we all, of joy; for our escape
Is much beyond our loss. Our hint of woe
Is common: every day, some sailor’s wife,
The masters of some merchant and the merchant,
Have just our theme of woe; but for the miracle,
I mean our preservation, few in millions
Can speak like us: then wisely, good sir, weigh
Our sorrow with our comfort.
ALONSO.
Prithee, peace.
SEBASTIAN.
He receives comfort like cold porridge.
ANTONIO.
The visitor will not give him o’er so.
SEBASTIAN. Look, he’s winding up the watch of his wit; by and by it will strike.
GONZALO.
Sir,—
SEBASTIAN.
One: tell.
GONZALO.
When every grief is entertain’d that’s offer’d,
Comes to the entertainer—
SEBASTIAN.
A dollar.
GONZALO. Dolour comes to him, indeed: you have spoken truer than you purposed.
SEBASTIAN.
You have taken it wiselier than I meant you should.
GONZALO.
Therefore, my lord,—
ANTONIO.
Fie, what a spendthrift is he of his tongue!
ALONSO.
I prithee, spare.
GONZALO.
Well, I have done: but yet—
SEBASTIAN.
He will be talking.
ANTONIO. Which, of he or Adrian, for a good wager, first begins to crow?
SEBASTIAN.
The old cock.
ANTONIO.
The cockerel.
SEBASTIAN.
Done. The wager?
ANTONIO.
A laughter.
SEBASTIAN.
A match!
ADRIAN.
Though this island seem to be desert,—
SEBASTIAN.
Ha, ha, ha! So, you’re paid.
ADRIAN.
Uninhabitable, and almost inaccessible,—
SEBASTIAN.
Yet—
ADRIAN.
Yet—
ANTONIO.
He could not miss it.
ADRIAN. It must needs be of subtle, tender, and delicate temperance.
ANTONIO.
Temperance was a delicate wench.
SEBASTIAN.
Ay, and a subtle; as he most learnedly delivered.
ADRIAN.
The air breathes upon us here most sweetly.