SCENE II.--_Cypress trees and a Cave.

_Enter_ PROSPERO _alone_.

_Prosp._ 'Tis not yet fit to let my daughters know, I keep the infant duke of Mantua So near them in this isle; Whose father, dying, bequeathed him to my care; Till my false brother (when he designed to usurp My dukedom from me) exposed him to that fate, He meant for me. By calculation of his birth, I saw Death threat'ning him, if, till some time were past, He should behold the face of any woman: And now the danger's nigh.--Hippolito!

_Enter_ HIPPOLITO.

_Hip._ Sir, I attend your pleasure.

_Prosp._ How I have loved thee, from thy infancy, Heaven knows, and thou thyself canst bear me witness; Therefore accuse not me of thy restraint.

_Hip._ Since I knew life, you've kept me in a rock; And you, this day, have hurried me from thence, Only to change my prison, not to free me. I murmur not, but I may wonder at it.

_Prosp._ O, gentle youth! fate waits for thee abroad; A black star threatens thee; and death, unseen, Stands ready to devour thee.

_Hip._ You taught me Not to fear him in any of his shapes:-- Let me meet death rather than be a prisoner.

_Prosp._ 'Tis pity he should seize thy tender youth.

_Hip._ Sir, I have often heard you say, no creature Lived in this isle, but those which man was lord of. Why, then, should I fear?

_Prosp._ But here are creatures which I named not to thee, Who share man's sovereignty by nature's laws, And oft depose him from it.

_Hip._ What are those creatures, sir?

_Prosp._ Those dangerous enemies of men, called women.

_Hip._ Women! I never heard of them before.-- What are women like?

_Prosp._ Imagine something between young men and angels; Fatally beauteous, and have killing eyes; Their voices charm beyond the nightingale's; They are all enchantment: Those, who once behold them, Are made their slaves for ever.

_Hip._ Then I will wink, and fight with them.

_Prosp._ 'Tis but in vain; They'll haunt you in your very sleep.

_Hip._ Then I'll revenge it on them when I wake.

_Prosp._ You are without all possibility of revenge; They are so beautiful, that you can ne'er attempt, Nor wish, to hurt them.

_Hip._ Are they so beautiful?

_Prosp._ Calm sleep is not so soft; nor winter suns, Nor summer shades, so pleasant.

_Hip._ Can they be fairer than the plumes of swans? Or more delightful than the peacock's feathers? Or than the gloss upon the necks of doves? Or have more various beauty than the rainbow?-- These I have seen, and, without danger, wondered at.

_Prosp._ All these are far below them: Nature made Nothing but woman dangerous and fair. Therefore if you should chance to see them, Avoid them straight, I charge you.

_Hip._ Well, since you say they are so dangerous, I'll so far shun them, as I may with safety Of the unblemished honour, which you taugt me. But let them not provoke me, for I'm sure I shall not then forbear them.

_Prosp._ Go in, and read the book I gave you last. To-morrow I may bring you better news.

_Hip._ I shall obey you, sir. [_Exit_ HIP.

_Prosp._ So, so; I hope this lesson has secured him, For I have been constrained to change his lodging From yonder rock, where first I bred him up, And here have brought him home to my own cell, Because the shipwreck happened near his mansion. I hope he will not stir beyond his limits, For hitherto he hath been all obedience: The planets seem to smile on my designs, And yet there is one sullen cloud behind: I would it were dispersed!

_Enter_ MIRANDA _and_ DORINDA.

How, my daughters! I thought I had instructed them enough: Children! retire; why do you walk this way?

_Mir._ It is within our bounds, sir.

_Prosp._ But both take heed, that path is very dangerous; remember what I told you.

_Dor._ Is the man that way, sir?

_Prosp._ All that you can imagine ill is there. The curled lion, and the rugged bear, Are not so dreadful as that man.

_Mir._ Oh me, why stay we here then?

_Dor._ I'll keep far enough from his den, I warrant him.

_Mir._ But you have told me, sir, you are a man; And yet you are not dreadful.

_Prosp._ Ay, child; but I Am a tame man; old men are tame by nature, But all the danger lies in a wild young man.

_Dor._ Do they run wild about the woods?

_Prosp._ No, they are wild within doors, in chambers, and in closets.

_Dor._ But, father, I would stroak them, and make them gentle; then sure they would not hurt me.

_Prosp._ You must not trust them, child: No woman can come near them, but she feels a pain, full nine months. Well, I must in; for new affairs require my presence: Be you, Miranda, your sister's guardian. [_Exit_ PROS.

_Dor._ Come, sister, shall we walk the other way? The man will catch us else: We have but two legs, And he, perhaps, has four.

_Mir._ Well, sister, though he have; yet look about you.

_Dor._ Come back! that way is towards his den.

_Mir._ Let me alone; I'll venture first, for sure he can Devour but one of us at once.

_Dor._ How dare you venture?

_Mir._ We'll find him sitting like a hare in's form, And he shall not see us.

_Dor._ Ay, but you know my father charged us both.

_Mir._ But who shall tell him on't? we'll keep each other's counsel.

_Dor._ I dare not, for the world.

_Mir._ But how shall we hereafter shun him, if we do not know him first?

_Dor._ Nay, I confess I would fain see him too. I find it in my nature, because my father has forbidden me.

_Mir._ Ay, there's it, sister; if he had said nothing, I had been quiet. Go softly, and if you see him first, be quick, and beckon me away.

_Dor._ Well, if he does catch me, I'll humble myself to him, and ask him pardon, as I do my father, when I have done a fault.

_Mir._ And if I can but escape with life, I had rather be in pain nine months, as my father threatened, than lose my longing. [_Exeunt._