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第20章

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 ears, 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, loadenwith glistering apparel, &c.]

Come, hang them on this line.[PROSPERO and ARIEL remain, invisible]

[Enter CALIBAN, STEPHANO, and TRINCULO, all wet]

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