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- ACT FOUR THE TEMPEST SCENE ONE
If thou dost break her virgin-knot before
All sanctimonious ceremonies may
With full and holy rite be minister'd,
No sweet aspersion shall the heavens let fall
To make this contract grow ; but barren hate,
Sour-eyed disdain and discord shall bestrew
The union of your bed with weeds so loathly
That you shall hate it both : therefore take heed.
As Hymen's lamps shall light you.
Ferdinand. As I hope
For quiet days, fair issue and long life.
With such love as 'tis now, the murkiest den,
The most opportune place, the strong'st suggestion
Our worser genius can, shall never melt
Mine honour into lust, to take away
The edge of that day's celebration
When I shall think, or Phoebus' steeds are founder'd,
Or Night kept chain'd below.
Prospero. Fairly spoke.
Sit, then, and talk with her; she is thine own.
What, Ariel ? my industrious servant, Ariel !
[Enter Artel.]
Artel. What would my potent master? here I am.
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