By my fo potent Art. But this rough Magick [Solemn Mufick Here enters Ariel before; then Alonfo with a frantick Gesture, attended by Gonzalo. Sebaftian and Anthonio in like manner, attended by Adrian and Francifco. They all enter the Circle which Prospero had made, and there ftand charm'd; which Profpero obferving, Speaks: A folemn Air, and the best Comforter To an unfetled Fancy, cure thy Brains, Now useless, boil within thy Skull; there ftand, Holy Gonzalo, honourable Man, apace, Mine Eyes, even fociable to the fhew of thine, To him thou follow'ft; I will pay thy Graces Thou art pinch'd for't now, Sebaftian. Flesh and Blood, That now lyes foul and muddy. Not one of them I will difcafe me, and my felf present, Ariel fings, and helps to attire him. Merrily, merrily fhall I live now, Under the Bloffom that hangs on the Bow. Pro. Why that's my dainty Ariel; I fhall mifs thee; But yet thou shalt have Freedom. So, fo, fo. To the King's Ship, invifible as thou art; There shalt thou find the Mariners asleep Under the Hatches; the Mafter and the Boatfwain, And prefently, I prethee. Ari. I drink the Air before me, and return Or e'er your Pulfe twice beat. [Exit. Gon. All Torment, Trouble, Wonder and Amazement Inhabits here; fome heav'nly Power guide us Out of this fearful Country. Pro. Behold, Sir King, The wronged Duke of Millan, Profpero: Alon. Where thou beeft he or no, As late I have been, I not know; thy Pulfe Thou pardon me my Wrongs: But how fhould Profpero Pro. Firft, noble Friend, Let Let me embrace thine Age, whofe Honour cannot Be meafur'd, or confin'd. Gon. Whether this be, Or be not, I'll not fwear. Pro. You do yet tafte Some Subtilties o'th' Ifle, that will not let you I will tell no Tales. Seb. The Devil speaks in him. Pro. No! For you, moft wicked Sir, whom to call Brother Alon. If thou beeft Profpero, Give us Particulars of thy Preservation, How thou haft met us here, who three Hours fince Pro. I am wo for't, Sir. Alon. Irreparable is the Lofs, and Patience Says, it is past her Cure. Pro. I rather think You have not fought her Help, of whofe foft Grace, And reft my felf content. Alon. You the like Lofs? Pro. As great to me, as late, and infupportable To make the dear Lofs, have I Means much weaker Have loft my Daughter. Alon. A Daughter? Oh Heavens! that they were living both in Naples, Where my Son lyes. When did you lofe E 4 your Daughter? Pro. Pro. In this laft Tempeft. I perceive these Lords 'At this Encounter do fo much admire, That they devour their Reason, and scarce think Which was thrust forth of Millan; who moft ftrangely For 'tis a Chronicle of Day by Day, Not a Relation for a Breakfast, nor Befitting this firft Meeting. Welcome, Sir; Here Profpero discovers Ferdinand and Miranda playing Mira. Sweet Lord, you play me false. Fer. No, my deareft Love, I would not for the World. Mira. Yes, for a fcore of Kingdoms you should wrangle, And I would call it fair Play, Alon. If this prove A Vifion of the Ifland, one dear Son Shall I twice lofe. Seb. A moft high Miracle. Fer. Though the Seas threaten, they are merciful; I have curs'd them without Cause. Alon. Now all the Bleffings Of a glad Father compafs thee about; Arife, and fay how thou cam'ft here. Mira. O Wonder! How many goodly Creatures are there here? How beauteous Mankind is! O brave new World, That has fuch People in't. Pre. 'Tis new to thee, Alon " Alon. What is this Maid, with whom thou waft at play? Your eld❜ft Acquaintance cannot be three Hours; Is the the Goddess that hath fever'd us, And brought us thus together? Fer. Sir, fhe is Mortal; But by Immortal Providence she's mine; Alon. I am hers; But O, how odly will it found, that I Pro. There, Sir, ftop; Let us not burthen our Remembrances with An Heaviness that's gone. Gon. I have inly wept, Or fhould have fpoke e'er this. Look down, you Gods, For it is you that have chalk'd forth the Way Which brought us hither. Alon. I fay Amen, Gonzalo. Gon. Was Millan thrust from Millan, that his Iffue Should become Kings of Naples? O rejoyce Beyond a common Joy, and fet it down With Gold on lafting Pillars: In one Voyage When no Man was his own. Alon. Give me your Hands: Let Grief and Sorrow ftill embrace his Heart, That doth not wish you Joy. Gon. Be it fo, Amen. Enter Ariel, with the Mafter and Boatswain amazedly following. O look Sir, look, here is more of us! 1 prophefy'd, if a Gallows were on Land |