Pros.
The fringed curtains of thy eyes advance,
And fee what is yonder. Enter Ferdinand.

Mir.
'Tis a spirit; believe me, Sir, it carries a brave form,
But, 'tis a spirit!

Pros.
No; it eats, and sleeps,
And hath such senses as we, were he not
Somewhat stain'd with grief (beauty's worst canker)
Thou might'st then call him a goodly person.

Mir.
I might call him a thing divine!
Nothing natural, I ever saw, so noble.

AIR. Ferdinand.
What sudden blaze of Majesty,
  What awful innocence of mien
Is that which I from hence descry?
  Like Nature's universal queen.
Sure the Goddess on whom these airs attend;
Such beauty cannot belong to human kind.

Mir.
I am, like you, a mortal; if such you are.

Fer.
My language too!—O heavens! I am the best of them
Who speak this language, were I but

In my own country. O! if a virgin,
And your affection's not gone forth, I'll make you
Queen of Naples.

Pros.
Young Sir, a word; thou do'st here usurp
The name thou own'st not, and hast put thyself
Upon this Island, as a spy, to win it
From me, the lord on't.

Fer.
No; as I am a man.

Mir.
There's nothing ill can dwell in such a temple.

Pros.
Speak not you for him; he's a traitor. Come,
I'll manacle thy feet and neck together;
Sea water shalt thou drink; thy food shall be
The fresh brook muscles, wither'd roots, and husks
Wherein the acorn's cradled. Follow.

Fer.
No; I will resist such entertainment, till
Mine enemy has more power.

Mir.
O! dear father,
Make not too rash a trial of him; for
He's gentle and not fearful.

AIR.
Sweetness, truth, and ev'ry grace,
  Which time and use are won't to teach,
The eye may in a moment reach,
  And read distinctly in his face.

Fer.
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, are but light to me,
Might I but thro' 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.

Pros.
It is in vain, Miranda, he's a traitor.

Mir.
Have pity, Sir.

Pros.
Speak not for him, go on, Sir, enter yonder cave;
That op'ning there shews you to your lodgings. (Exit Ferd. Mir. following.

AIR.
In tender sighs, he silence breaks,
  The fair his flame approves;
Consenting blushes warm her cheeks,
  She smiles, she yields, she loves. (Exit.

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