A solemn air, and the best comforter
To an unsettled fancy, cure thy brains
Now useless, boil'd within thy skull; There stand,
For you are spell-stopt.—
Holy Gonzalo, honourable man,
Mine eyes, ev'n sociable to th' shew of thine,
Fall fellow-drops—the charm dissolves apace,
&plquo;And as the morning steals upon the night,
&plquo;Melting the darkness, so their rising senses
&plquo;Begin to chase the ign'rant fumes that mantle
&plquo;Their clearer reason. O my good Gonzalo,
My true preserver, and a loyal Sir
To him thou follow'st; I will pay thy graces
Home both in word and deed.—Most cruelly
Didst thou, Alonso, use me and my daughter:
Thy brother was a furtherer in the act;
Thou'rt pinch'd for't now, Sebastian.—Flesh and blood,
You brother mine, that entertain'd ambition,
Expell'd remorse and nature; who with Sebastian
(Whose inward pinches therefore are most strong,
Would here have kill'd your King; I do forgive thee,
Unnat'ral though thou art. Their understanding
Begins to swell, and the approaching tide
Will shortly fill the reasonable shore,
That now lyes foul and muddy. Not one of them

That yet looks on me, or would know me.—Ariel,
Fetch me the hat and rapier in my cell;
I will dis-case me, and my self present,
As I was sometime Milan: quickly, Spirit;
Thou shalt ere long be free.
Ariel. sings, and helps to attire him.
  Where the bee sucks, there suck I;
  In a cowslip's bell I lye:
  There I couch when owls do cry.
  On the bat's back I do fly
  After summer merrily.
Merrily, merrily, shall I live now,
Under the blossom that hangs on the bough.

Pro.
Why that's my dainty Ariel; I shall miss thee;
But yet thou shalt have freedom. So, so, so.
To the King's ship, invisible as thou art;
There shalt thou find the mariners asleep
Under the hatches; the master and the boatswain,
Being awake, enforce them to this place,
And presently, I pr'ythee.

Ari.
I drink the air before me, and return
Or e'er your pulse twice beat. [Exit.

Gon.
All torment, trouble, wonder and amazement
Inhabits here; some heav'nly power guide us
Out of this fearful country.

Pro.
Lo, Sir King,
The wronged Duke of Milan, Prospero:
For more assurance that a living Prince
Does now speak to thee, I embrace thy body,
And to thee and thy company I bid
A hearty welcome.

Alon.
Be'st thou he or no,

Or some inchanted trifle, to abuse me
As late I have been, I not know; thy pulse
Beats as of flesh and blood, and since I saw thee
Th' affliction of my mind amends, with which
I fear a madness held me; this must crave
(An if this be at all) a most strange story:
Thy Dukedom I resign, and do intreat
Thou pardon me my wrongs; but how should Prospero
Be living, and be here?

Pro.
First, noble friend,
Let me embrace thine age, whose honour cannot
Be measur'd or confin'd.

Gon.
Whether this be,
Or be not, I'll not swear.

Pro.
You do yet taste
Some subtilties o'th'Isle, that will not let you
Believe things certain: welcome, my friends all.
But you, my brace of lords, were I so minded,
I here could pluck his Highness' frown upon you,
And justifie you traitors; at this time
I'll tell no tales.

Seb.
The devil speaks in him.

Pro.
No!
For you, most wicked Sir, whom to call brother
Would even infect my mouth, I do forgive
Thy rankest faults; all of them; and require
My Dukedom of thee, which perforce I know
Thou must restore.

Alon.
If thou beest Prospero,
Give us particulars of thy preservation,
How thou hast met us here, who three hours since
Were wrackt upon this shore; where I have lost
(How sharp the point of this remembrance is!)

My dear son Ferdinand.

Pro.
I'm wo for't, Sir.

Alon.
Irreparable is the loss, and patience
Says, it is past her cure.

Pro.
I rather think
You have not sought her help, of whose soft grace,
For the like loss, I have her sov'reign aid,
And rest my self content.

Alon.
You the like loss?

Pro.
As great to me, as late, and insupportable;
To make the dear loss, have I means much weaker
Than you may call to comfort you; for I
Have lost my daughter.

Alon.
A daughter?
O heav'ns! that they were living both in Naples,
The King and Queen there; that they were, I wish
My self were mudded in that Oozy bed.
Where my son lyes. When did you lose your daughter?

Pro.
In this last tempest. I perceive these lords
At this encounter do so much admire,
That they devour their reason, and scarce think
Their eyes do offices of truth, their words
Are natural breath: but howsoe'er you have
Been justled from your senses, know for certain
That I am Prosp'ero, and that very Duke
Which was thrust forth of Milan, who most strangely
Upon this shore where you were wrackt, was landed
To be the lord on't. No more yet of this;
For 'tis a chronicle of day by day,
Not a relation for a breakfast, nor
Befitting this first meeting. Welcome, Sir;
This cell's my court; here have I few attendants,
And subjects none abroad; pray you look in;

My Dukedom since you've given me again,
I will requite you with as good a thing,
At least bring forth a wonder to content ye,
As much as me my Dukedom.

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