SCENE V.--_The Cypress-trees and Caves.

_Scene changes, and discovers_ PROSPERO _and_ MIRANDA.

_Prosp._ Advance the fringed curtains of thine eyes, And say what thou seest yonder.

_Mir._ Is it a spirit? Lord, how it looks about! Sir, I confess it carries a brave form. But 'tis a spirit.

_Prosp._ No, girl, it eats, and sleeps, and has such senses As we have. This young gallant, whom thou see'st, Was in the wreck; were he not somewhat stained With grief, (beauty's worst canker) thou might'st call him A goodly person; he has lost his company, And strays about to find them.

_Mir._ I might call him A thing divine, for nothing natural I ever saw so noble.

_Prosp._ It goes on, As my soul prompts it: Spirit, fine spirit, I'll free thee within two days for this. [_Aside._

_Ferd._ She's sure the mistress on whom these airs attend. Fair excellence! if, as your form declares, You are divine, be pleased to instruct me how You will be worshipped; so bright a beauty Cannot sure belong to human kind.

_Mir._ I am, like you, a mortal, if such you are.

_Ferd._ My language, too! O heavens! I am the best Of them who speak this speech, when I'm in my Own country.

_Prosp._ How, the best? what wert thou, if The duke of Savoy heard thee?

_Ferd._ As I am now; Who wonders to hear thee speak of Savoy; He does hear me, and that he does, I weep. Myself am Savoy, whose fatal eyes (ne'er since at ebb) beheld The duke, my father, wrecked.

_Mir._ Alack! for pity!

_Prosp._ At the first sight they have changed eyes. Dear Ariel, I'll set thee free for this.-- [_Aside._ Young sir, a word. With hazard of yourself you do me wrong.

_Mir._ Why speaks my father so ungently? This is The third man that I ever saw, the first Whom e'er I sighed for; sweet heaven, move my father To be inclined my way.

_Ferd._ O! if a virgin, And your affections not gone forth, I'll make you Mistress of Savoy.

_Prosp._ Soft, sir, one word more.-- They're in each other's power; but this swift business I must uneasy make, lest too light winning Make the prize light.--One word more. Thou usurp'st The name not due to thee, hast put thyself Upon this island as a spy, to get The government from me, the lord of it.

_Ferd._ No, as I'm a man.

_Mir._ There's nothing ill can dwell in such a temple: If the evil spirit hath so fair a house, Good things will strive to dwell with it.

_Prosp._ No more. Speak not for him, he is a traitor. Come! thou art my prisoner, and shalt be in bonds. Sea-water shalt thou drink, thy food shall be The fresh brook-muscles, withered roots and husks, Wherein the acorn cradled;----follow.

_Ferd._ No, I will resist such entertainment, Till my enemy has more power. [_He draws, and is charmed from moving._

_Mir._ O dear father! make not too rash a trial Of him; for he is gentle, and not fearful.

_Prosp._ My child my tutor! put thy sword up, Traitor, who mak'st a show, but dar'st not strike: Thy conscience is possessed with guilt. Come from thy ward, For I can here disarm thee with this wand, And make thy weapon drop.

_Mir._ 'Beseech you, father.

_Prosp._ Hence: Hang not on my garment.

_Mir._ Sir, have pity! I'll be his surety!

_Prosp._ Silence! one word more Shall make me chide thee, if not hate thee: What! An advocate for an impostor? sure Thou think'st there are no more such shapes as his; To the most of men this is a Caliban, And they to him are angels.

_Mir._ My affections are then most humble; I have no ambition to see a goodlier man.

_Prosp._ Come on, obey: Thy nerves are in their infancy again, And have no vigour in them.

_Ferd._ So they are: My spirits, as in a dream, are all bound up: My father's loss, the weakness which I feel, The wreck of all my friends, and this man's threats, To whom I am subdued, would seem light to me, Might I but once a day thorough my prison Behold this maid: All corners else o' the earth Let liberty make use of: I have space Enough in such a prison.

_Prosp._ It works: Come on: Thou hast done well, fine Ariel: Follow me. Hark what thou shalt do for me. [_Whispers_ ARIEL.

_Mir._ Be of comfort! My father's of a better nature, sir, Than he appears by speech: This is unwonted, Which now came from him.

_Prosp._ Thou shalt be free as mountain winds: But then Exactly do all points of my command.

_Ariel._ To a syllable. [_Exit_ ARIEL.

_Prosp. to Mir._ Go in that way, speak not a word for him: I'll separate you. [_Exit_ MIRANDA.

_Ferd._ As soon thou may'st divide the waters, when Thou strik'st 'em, which pursue thy bootless blow, And meet when it is past.

_Prosp._ Go practise your philosophy within, And if you are the same you speak yourself, Bear your afflictions like a prince.--That door Shews you your lodging.

_Ferd._ 'Tis in vain to strive, I must obey. [_Exit_ FERD.

_Prosp._ This goes as I would wish it. Now for my second care, Hippolito. I shall not need to chide him for his fault, His passion is become his punishment. Come forth, Hippolito.

_Enter_ HIPPOLITO.

_Hip._ 'Tis Prospero's voice.

_Prosp._ Hippolito, I know you now expect I should severely chide you: You have seen A woman, in contempt of my commands.

_Hip._ But, sir, you see I am come off unharmed; I told you, that you need not doubt my courage.

_Prosp._ You think you have received no hurt?

_Hip._ No, none, sir. Try me again; whene'er you please I'm ready: I think I cannot fear an army of them.

_Prosp._ How much in vain it is to bridle nature! [_Aside._ Well, what was the success of your encounter?

_Hip._ Sir, we had none, we yielded both at first; For I took her to mercy, and she me.

_Prosp._ But are you not much changed from what you were?

_Hip._ Methinks, I wish, and wish!--for what I know not,-- But still I wish:--Yet if I had that woman, She, I believe, could tell me what I wish for.

_Prosp._ What would you do to make that woman yours?

_Hip._ I'd quit the rest o'the world, that I might live Alone with her; she never should be from me: We two would sit and look till our eyes ached.

_Prosp._ You'd soon be weary of her.

_Hip._ O, sir, never.

_Prosp._ But you'll grow old and wrinkled, as you see Me now, and then you will not care for her.

_Hip._ You may do what you please; but, sir, we two Can never possibly grow old.

_Prosp._ You must, Hippolito.

_Hip._ Whether we will or no, sir! who shall make us?

_Prosp._ Nature, which made me so.

_Hip._ But you have told me, that her works are various: She made you old, but she has made us young.

_Prosp._ Time will convince you.-- Meanwhile, be sure you tread in honour's paths, That you may merit her: And that you may not Want fit occasions to employ your virtue, In this next cave there is a stranger lodged, One of your kind, young, of a noble presence, And, as he says himself, of princely birth; He is my prisoner, and in deep affliction: Visit, and comfort him; it will become you.

_Hip._ It is my duty, sir. [_Exit_ HIP.

_Prosp._ True, he has seen a woman, yet he lives!-- Perhaps I took the moment of his birth Amiss: Perhaps my art itself is false.-- On what strange grounds we build our hopes and fears! Man's life is all a mist! and, in the dark, Our fortunes meet us. If fate be not, then what can we foresee? Or how can we avoid it, if it be? If by free will in our own paths we move, How are we bounded by decrees above? Whether we drive, or whether we are driven, If ill, 'tis ours: if good, the act of heaven. [_Exit._