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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 wind'ring 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

You sun-burnt 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. 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 cars,

That calf-like they my lowing follow'd through

Tooth'd briers, sharp furzes, pricking goss, and thorns,

Which ent'red their frail shins. At last I left them

I' th' filthy mantled pool beyond your cell,

There dancing up to th' 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

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.

STEPHANO.

Monster, your fairy, which you say is a harmless

fairy, has done little better than play'd the Jack with us.

TRINCULO.

Monster, I do smell all horse-piss at which my

nose is in great indignation.