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- ACT ONE THE TEMPEST SCENE TWO
Now in the waist, the deck, in every cabin,
I flamed amazement : sometime I 'Id divide,
And burn in many places ; on the topmast,
The yards and bowsprit, would I flame distinctly,
Then meet and join. Jove's lightnings, the precursors
O' the dreadful thunder-claps, more momentary
And sight-outrunning were not: the fire and cracks
Of sulphurous roaring the most mighty Neptune
Seem to besiege, and make his bold waves tremble.
Yea, his dread trident shake.
Prospero. My brave spirit!
Who was so firm, so constant, that this coil
Would not infect his reason.^
Ariel. Not a soul
But felt a fever of the mad, and play'd
Some tricks of desperation. All but mariners
Plunged in the foaming brine, and quit the vessel,
Then all afire with me : the king's son, Ferdinand,
With hair up-staring,— then like reeds, not hair,—
Was the first man that leap'd ; cried, ' Hell is empty,
And all the devils are here.'
Prospero. Why, that's my spirit!
But was not this nigh shore?
Ariel. Close by, my master.
Prospero. But are they, Ariel, safe?
Ariel. Not a hair perish'd ;
On their sustaining garments not a blemish.
But fresher than before: and, as thou badest me,
In troops I have dispersed them 'bout the isle.
The king's son have I landed by himself;
Whom I left cooling of the air with sighs
In an odd angle of the isle, and sitting.
His arms in this sad knot.
Prospero. Of the king's ship,
The mariners, say how thou hast disposed.
And all the rest o' the fleet.
Ariel. Safely in harbour
Is the king's ship; in the deep nook, where once
Thou call'dst me up at midnight to fetch dew
From the still-vex'd Bermoothes, there she's hid:
The mariners all under hatches stow'd ;
14
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