Rhetorical Devices Grup D: Wanyi ChenThe Tempest Wenwen Dong Ana Segura(Arden Edition)

ACT I

SCENE I. On a ship at sea: a tempestuous noise of thunder and lightning heard.

Enter a Master and a Boatswain

MasterBoatswain!BoatswainHere, master: what cheer?MasterGood, speak to the mariners: fall to't, yarely,or we run ourselves aground: bestir, bestir.1

Exit

Enter Mariners

BoatswainHeigh, my hearts! cheerly, cheerly, my hearts!2

yare, yare3! Take in the topsail. Tend to themaster's whistle. Blow, till thou burst thy wind,if room enough!

Enter ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, FERDINAND, GONZALO, and others

ALONSOGood boatswain, have care. Where's the master?Play the men.BoatswainI pray now, keep below.ANTONIOWhere is the master, boatswain?BoatswainDo you not hear him? You mar our labour: keep yourcabins: you do assist the storm4.GONZALONay, good, be patient.Boatswain

1 Anaphora2 Anaphora3 Anaphora4 Personification

When the sea is. Hence5! What cares these roarersfor the name of king? To cabin: silence! trouble us not.GONZALOGood, yet remember whom thou hast aboard.BoatswainNone that I more love than myself. You are acounsellor; if you can command these elements tosilence, and work the peace of the present6, we willnot hand a rope more; use your authority: if youcannot, give thanks you have lived so long, and makeyourself ready in your cabin for the mischance ofthe hour, if it so hap. Cheerly, good hearts! Outof our way, I say.

Exit

GONZALOI have great comfort from this fellow: methinks hehath no drowning mark upon him; his complexion isperfect gallows. Stand fast, good Fate, to hishanging: make the rope of his destiny our cable,for our own doth little advantage. If he be notborn to be hanged, our case is miserable.

Exeunt

Re-enter Boatswain

BoatswainDown with the topmast! yare! lower, lower! 7Bringher to try with main-course.

A cry within

A plague upon this howling! they are louder thanthe weather or our office.8

Re-enter SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, and GONZALO

Yet again! what do you here? Shall we give o'erand drown? Have you a mind to sink?SEBASTIANA pox o' your throat, you bawling, blasphemous,incharitable dog!9

Boatswain

5 Metaphor6 Personification7 Anaphora8 Simil9 Metaphor

Work you then.ANTONIOHang, cur! hang, you whoreson, insolent noisemaker!10We are less afraid to be drowned than thou art.11

GONZALOI'll warrant him for drowning; though the ship wereno stronger than a nutshell and as leaky as anunstanched wench.12

BoatswainLay her a-hold, a-hold! 13set her two courses off tosea again; lay her off.

Enter Mariners wet

MarinersAll lost! to prayers, to prayers! all lost!14

BoatswainWhat, must our mouths be cold?GONZALOThe king and prince at prayers! let's assist them,For our case is as theirs.SEBASTIANI'm out of patience.ANTONIOWe are merely cheated of our lives by drunkards:This wide-chapp'd rascal--would thou mightst lie drowningThe washing of ten tides!

GONZALOHe'll be hang'd yet,Though every drop of water swear against itAnd gape at widest to glut him.

A confused noise within: 'Mercy on us!'-- 'We split, we split!'--'Farewell, my wife and children!'-- 'Farewell, brother!'--'We split, we split, we split!'

ANTONIOLet's all sink with the king.SEBASTIANLet's take leave of him.

Exeunt ANTONIO and SEBASTIAN

GONZALO

10 Anaphora11 Simil12 Simil13 Anaphora14 Anaphora

Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea for anacre of barren ground, long heath, brown furze, anything. The wills above be done! but I would faindie a dry death.

Exeunt

SCENE II. The island. Before PROSPERO'S cell.

Enter PROSPERO and MIRANDAMIRANDAIf by your art, my dearest father, you havePut the wild waters in this roar, allay them.The sky, it seems, would pour down stinking pitch,But that the sea, mounting to the welkin's cheek,Dashes the fire out. O, I have sufferedWith those that I saw suffer: a brave vessel,Who had, no doubt, some noble creature in her,Dash'd all to pieces. O, the cry did knockAgainst my very heart. Poor souls, they perish'd.15

Had I been any god of power, I wouldHave sunk the sea within the earth or ere16

It should the good ship so have swallow'd andThe fraughting souls within her.PROSPEROBe collected:No more amazement: tell your piteous heart17

There's no harm done.MIRANDAO, woe the day!PROSPERONo harm.I have done nothing but in care of thee,Of thee, my dear one, thee, my daughter, whoArt ignorant of what thou art, nought knowingOf whence I am, nor that I am more better18

Than Prospero, master of a full poor cell,And thy no greater father.MIRANDAMore to knowDid never meddle with my thoughts.19

PROSPERO

15 Personification16 Personification17 Personification18 Anadiplosis19 Personification

'Tis timeI should inform thee farther. Lend thy hand,And pluck my magic garment from me. So:

Lays down his mantle

Lie there, my art. Wipe thou thine eyes20; have comfort.The direful spectacle of the wreck, which touch'dThe very virtue of compassion in thee,21

I have with such provision in mine artSo safely ordered that there is no soul--No, not so much perdition as an hairBetid to any creature in the vesselWhich thou heard'st cry, which thou saw'st sink. Sit down;For thou must now know farther.MIRANDAYou have oftenBegun to tell me what I am, but stopp'dAnd left me to a bootless inquisition,Concluding 'Stay: not yet.'PROSPEROThe hour's now come22;The very minute bids thee ope thine ear;Obey and be attentive. Canst thou rememberA time before we came unto this cell?I do not think thou canst, for then thou wast notOut three years old.MIRANDACertainly, sir, I can.PROSPEROBy what? by any other house or person?Of anything the image tell me that23

Hath kept with thy remembrance.MIRANDA'Tis far offAnd rather like a dream than an assurance24

That my remembrance warrants. Had I notFour or five women once that tended me?PROSPEROThou hadst, and more, Miranda. But how is itThat this lives in thy mind? What seest thou elseIn the dark backward and abysm of time?If thou remember'st aught ere thou camest here,How thou camest here thou mayst.MIRANDA

20 Personification21 Anadiplosis22 Personification23 Personification24 Metaphor

But that I do not.PROSPEROTwelve year since, Miranda, twelve year since,Thy father was the Duke of Milan andA prince of power.MIRANDASir, are not you my father?PROSPEROThy mother was a piece of virtue25, andShe said thou wast my daughter; and thy fatherWas Duke of Milan; and thou his only heirAnd princess no worse issued.MIRANDAO the heavens!What foul play had we, that we came from thence?Or blessed was't we did?PROSPEROBoth, both, my girl:By foul play, as thou say'st, were we heaved thence,But blessedly holp hither.26

MIRANDAO, my heart bleeds27

To think o' the teen that I have turn'd you to,Which is from my remembrance! Please you, farther.PROSPEROMy brother and thy uncle, call'd Antonio--I pray thee, mark me--that a brother shouldBe so perfidious!--he whom next thyselfOf all the world I loved and to him putThe manage of my state; as at that timeThrough all the signories it was the firstAnd Prospero the prime duke, being so reputedIn dignity, and for the liberal artsWithout a parallel; those being all my study,The government I cast upon my brotherAnd to my state grew stranger, being transportedAnd rapt in secret studies. Thy false uncle--Dost thou attend me?MIRANDASir, most heedfully.PROSPEROBeing once perfected how to grant suits,How to deny them, who to advance and whoTo trash for over-topping, new createdThe creatures that were mine, I say, or changed 'em,Or else new form'd 'em; having both the keyOf officer and office, set all hearts i' the state

25 Metaphor26 Polysyndenton27 Personification

To what tune pleased his ear28; that now he wasThe ivy which had hid my princely trunk,And suck'd my verdure out on't. Thou attend'st not.MIRANDAO, good sir, I do.PROSPEROI pray thee, mark me.I, thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicatedTo closeness and the bettering of my mindWith that which, but by being so retired,O'er-prized all popular rate, in my false brotherAwaked an evil nature; and my trust,Like a good parent, did beget of himA falsehood in its contrary as greatAs my trust was; which had indeed no limit,A confidence sans bound. He being thus lorded,Not only with what my revenue yielded,But what my power might else exact, like oneWho having into truth, by telling of it,Made such a sinner of his memory,To credit his own lie, he did believeHe was indeed the duke; out o' the substitutionAnd executing the outward face of royalty,With all prerogative: hence his ambition growing--Dost thou hear?MIRANDAYour tale, sir, would cure deafness.PROSPEROTo have no screen between this part he play'dAnd him he play'd it for, he needs will beAbsolute Milan. Me, poor man, my libraryWas dukedom large enough: of temporal royaltiesHe thinks me now incapable; confederates--So dry he was for sway--wi' the King of NaplesTo give him annual tribute, do him homage,Subject his coronet to his crown and bendThe dukedom yet unbow'd--alas, poor Milan!--To most ignoble stooping.MIRANDAO the heavens!PROSPEROMark his condition and the event; then tell meIf this might be a brother.MIRANDAI should sinTo think but nobly of my grandmother:Good wombs have borne bad sons.

PROSPERO

28 Personification

Now the condition.The King of Naples, being an enemyTo me inveterate, hearkens my brother's suit;Which was, that he, in lieu o' the premisesOf homage and I know not how much tribute,Should presently extirpate me and mineOut of the dukedom and confer fair MilanWith all the honours on my brother: whereon,A treacherous army levied, one midnightFated to the purpose did Antonio openThe gates of Milan, and, i' the dead of darkness,The ministers for the purpose hurried thenceMe and thy crying self.MIRANDAAlack, for pity!I, not remembering how I cried out then,Will cry it o'er again: it is a hintThat wrings mine eyes to't.29

PROSPEROHear a little furtherAnd then I'll bring thee to the present businessWhich now's upon's; without the which this storyWere most impertinent.MIRANDAWherefore did they notThat hour destroy us?30

PROSPEROWell demanded, wench:My tale provokes that question. Dear, they durst not,So dear the love my people bore me, nor setA mark so bloody on the business31, butWith colours fairer painted their foul ends32.In few, they hurried us aboard a bark,Bore us some leagues to sea; where they preparedA rotten carcass of a boat, not rigg'd,Nor tackle, sail, nor mast; the very ratsInstinctively had quit it: there they hoist us,To cry to the sea that roar'd to us, to sighTo the winds whose pity, sighing back again,Did us but loving wrong.33

MIRANDAAlack, what troubleWas I then to you!PROSPERO

29 Personification30 Personification31 Personification32 Personification33 Personification

O, a cherubimThou wast that did preserve me. Thou didst smile.Infused with a fortitude from heaven,When I have deck'd the sea with drops full salt34,Under my burthen groan'd; which raised in meAn undergoing stomach, to bear up35

Against what should ensue.MIRANDAHow came we ashore?PROSPEROBy Providence divine.Some food we had and some fresh water thatA noble Neapolitan, Gonzalo,Out of his charity, being then appointedMaster of this design, did give us, withRich garments, linens, stuffs and necessaries,Which since have steaded much; so, of his gentleness,Knowing I loved my books, he furnish'd meFrom mine own library with volumes thatI prize above my dukedom.MIRANDAWould I mightBut ever see that man!PROSPERONow I arise:

Resumes his mantle

Sit still, and hear the last of our sea-sorrow.Here in this island we arrived; and hereHave I, thy schoolmaster36, made thee more profitThan other princesses can that have more timeFor vainer hours and tutors not so careful.MIRANDAHeavens thank you for't37! And now, I pray you, sir,For still 'tis beating in my mind, your reasonFor raising this sea-storm?PROSPEROKnow thus far forth.By accident most strange, bountiful Fortune,Now my dear lady, hath mine enemies38

Brought to this shore; and by my prescienceI find my zenith doth depend uponA most auspicious star39, whose influence

34 Personification35 Personification36 Simil37 Personification38 Ellipsis39 Personification

If now I court not but omit, my fortunesWill ever after droop. Here cease more questions:Thou art inclined to sleep; 'tis a good dulness,And give it way: I know thou canst not choose.

MIRANDA sleeps

Come away, servant, come. I am ready now.Approach, my Ariel, come.40

Enter ARIEL

ARIELAll hail, great master! grave sir, hail! I comeTo answer thy best pleasure; be't to fly,To swim, to dive into the fire, to rideOn the curl'd clouds, to thy strong bidding task41Ariel and all his quality.PROSPEROHast thou, spirit,Perform'd to point the tempest that I bade thee?42

ARIELTo every article.I boarded the king's ship; now on the beak,Now in the waist, the deck, in every cabin43,I flamed amazement: sometime I'ld 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 precursorsO' the dreadful thunder-claps, more momentaryAnd sight-outrunning were not; the fire and cracksOf sulphurous roaring the most mighty NeptuneSeem to besiege and make his bold waves tremble44,Yea, his dread trident shake.PROSPEROMy brave spirit!Who was so firm, so constant, that this coilWould not infect his reason?ARIELNot a soulBut felt a fever of the mad and play'dSome tricks of desperation. All but marinersPlunged in the foaming brine and quit the vessel,Then all afire with me: the king's son, Ferdinand,

40 Epistola41 Asyndeton42 Personification43 Anadiplosis44 Personification

With hair up-staring,--then like reeds45, not hair,--Was the first man that leap'd; cried, 'Hell is emptyAnd all the devils are here.'PROSPEROWhy that's my spirit!But was not this nigh shore?ARIELClose by, my master.PROSPEROBut are they, Ariel, safe?ARIELNot a hair perish'd;On their sustaining garments not a blemish,But fresher than before: and, as thou badest me,46

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 sighsIn an odd angle of the isle and sitting,His arms in this sad knot47.PROSPEROOf the king's shipThe mariners say how thou hast disposedAnd all the rest o' the fleet.ARIELSafely in harbour48

Is the king's ship; in the deep nook, where onceThou call'dst me up at midnight to fetch dewFrom the still-vex'd Bermoothes, there she's hid:The mariners all under hatches stow'd;Who, with a charm join'd to their suffer'd labour,I have left asleep; and for the rest o' the fleetWhich I dispersed, they all have met againAnd are upon the Mediterranean flote,Bound sadly home for Naples,Supposing that they saw the king's ship wreck'dAnd his great person perish.PROSPEROAriel, thy chargeExactly is perform'd: but there's more work.What is the time o' the day?ARIELPast the mid season.PROSPEROAt least two glasses. The time 'twixt six and nowMust by us both be spent most preciously.ARIEL

45 Metaphor46 Simil47 Personification48 Ellipsis

Is there more toil? Since thou dost give me pains,Let me remember thee what thou hast promised,Which is not yet perform'd me.PROSPEROHow now? moody?What is't thou canst demand?ARIELMy liberty.PROSPEROBefore the time be out? no more!ARIELI prithee,Remember I have done thee worthy service;Told thee no lies, made thee no mistakings49, servedWithout or grudge or grumblings: thou didst promiseTo bate me a full year.PROSPERODost thou forgetFrom what a torment I did free thee?ARIELNo.PROSPEROThou dost, and think'st it much to tread the oozeOf the salt deep,To run upon the sharp wind of the north50,To do me business in the veins o' the earthWhen it is baked with frost.ARIELI do not, sir.PROSPEROThou liest, malignant thing! Hast thou forgotThe foul witch Sycorax, who with age and envyWas grown into a hoop51? hast thou forgot her?ARIELNo, sir.PROSPEROThou hast. Where was she born? speak; tell me.ARIELSir, in Argier.PROSPEROO, was she so? I mustOnce in a month recount what thou hast been,Which thou forget'st. This damn'd witch Sycorax,For mischiefs manifold and sorceries terribleTo enter human hearing, from Argier,Thou know'st, was banish'd: for one thing she didThey would not take her life. Is not this true?

49 Anaphora50 Personification51 Personification

ARIELAy, sir.PROSPEROThis blue-eyed hag was hither brought with childAnd here was left by the sailors. Thou, my slave,As thou report'st thyself52, wast then her servant;And, for thou wast a spirit too delicateTo act her earthy and abhorr'd commands,Refusing her grand hests, she did confine thee,By help of her more potent ministersAnd in her most unmitigable rage,Into a cloven pine; within which riftImprison'd thou didst painfully remainA dozen years; within which space she diedAnd left thee there; where thou didst vent thy groansAs fast as mill-wheels strike53. Then was this island--Save for the son that she did litter here,A freckled whelp hag-born--not honour'd withA human shape.

ARIELYes, Caliban her son.PROSPERODull thing, I say so; he, that CalibanWhom now I keep in service. Thou best know'stWhat torment I did find thee in; thy groansDid make wolves howl and penetrate the breastsOf ever angry bears54: it was a tormentTo lay upon the damn'd, which SycoraxCould not again undo: it was mine art,When I arrived and heard thee, that made gapeThe pine and let thee out.ARIELI thank thee, master.PROSPEROIf thou more murmur'st, I will rend an oakAnd peg thee in his knotty entrails tillThou hast howl'd away twelve winters.ARIELPardon, master;I will be correspondent to commandAnd do my spiriting gently.PROSPERODo so, and after two daysI will discharge thee.ARIEL

52 Simil53 Simil54 Personification

That's my noble master!What shall I do? say what; what shall I do?55

PROSPEROGo make thyself like a nymph o' the sea56: be subjectTo no sight but thine and mine, invisibleTo every eyeball else. Go take this shapeAnd hither come in't: go, hence with diligence!

Exit ARIEL

Awake, dear heart, awake! thou hast slept well; Awake!57

MIRANDAThe strangeness of your story putHeaviness in me.PROSPEROShake it off. Come on;We'll visit Caliban my slave, who neverYields us kind answer.MIRANDA'Tis a villain, sir,I do not love to look on.PROSPEROBut, as 'tis,We cannot miss him: he does make our fire,Fetch in our wood and serves in officesThat profit us. What, ho! slave! Caliban!Thou earth, thou! speak.58

CALIBAN[Within] There's wood enough within.PROSPEROCome forth, I say! there's other business for thee:Come, thou tortoise! when?59

Re-enter ARIEL like a water-nymph

Fine apparition! My quaint Ariel,Hark in thine ear.ARIELMy lord it shall be done.

Exit

PROSPERO

55 Anaphora56 Simil57 Epanalepsis58 Anaphora59 Anaphora

Thou poisonous slave, got by the devil himselfUpon thy wicked dam60, come forth!

Enter CALIBAN

CALIBANAs wicked dew as e'er my mother brush'dWith raven's feather from unwholesome fen61Drop on you both! a south-west blow on yeAnd blister you all o'er!PROSPEROFor this, be sure, to-night thou shalt have cramps,Side-stitches that shall pen thy breath up62; urchinsShall, for that vast of night that they may work,All exercise on thee; thou shalt be pinch'dAs thick as honeycomb63, each pinch more stingingThan bees that made 'em.CALIBANI must eat my dinner.This island's mine, by Sycorax my mother,Which thou takest from me. When thou camest first,Thou strokedst me and madest much of me, wouldst give me64Water with berries in't, and teach me howTo name the bigger light, and how the less,That burn by day and night: and then I loved theeAnd show'd thee all the qualities o' the isle,The fresh springs, brine-pits, barren place and fertile:Cursed be I that did so! All the charmsOf Sycorax, toads, beetles, bats, light on you!65

For I am all the subjects that you have,Which first was mine own king: and here you sty meIn this hard rock, whiles you do keep from meThe rest o' the island.PROSPEROThou most lying slave,Whom stripes may move, not kindness! I have used thee,Filth as thou art, with human care, and lodged theeIn mine own cell, till thou didst seek to violateThe honour of my child.CALIBANO ho, O ho! would't had been done!Thou didst prevent me; I had peopled elseThis isle with Calibans.PROSPERO

60 Hyperbole61 Personification62 Hyperbole63 Hyperbole64 Anaphora65 Enumeratio

Abhorred slave,Which any print of goodness wilt not take,Being capable of all ill! I pitied thee,Took pains to make thee speak, taught thee each hourOne thing or other: when thou didst not, savage,Know thine own meaning, but wouldst gabble likeA thing most brutish, I endow'd thy purposesWith words that made them known. But thy vile race,Though thou didst learn, had that in't whichgood naturesCould not abide to be with; therefore wast thouDeservedly confined into this rock,Who hadst deserved more than a prison.

CALIBANYou taught me language; and my profit on'tIs, I know how to curse. The red plague rid youFor learning me your language!PROSPEROHag-seed, hence!Fetch us in fuel; and be quick, thou'rt best,To answer other business. Shrug'st thou, malice?If thou neglect'st or dost unwillinglyWhat I command, I'll rack thee with old cramps,Fill all thy bones with aches, make thee roarThat beasts shall tremble at thy din66.CALIBANNo, pray thee.

Aside

I must obey: his art is of such power,It would control my dam's god, Setebos,and make a vassal of him.PROSPEROSo, slave; hence!

Exit CALIBAN

Re-enter ARIEL, invisible, playing and singing; FERDINAND following

ARIEL'S song.Come unto these yellow sands,And then take hands:Courtsied when you have and kiss'dThe wild waves whist,Foot it featly here and there;

66 Hyperbole

And, sweet sprites, the burthen bear.Hark, hark!67

Burthen [dispersedly, within

The watch-dogs bark!

Burthen Bow-wow

Hark, hark! I hearThe strain of strutting chanticleerCry, Cock-a-diddle-dow68.FERDINANDWhere should this music be? i' the air or the earth?It sounds no more: and sure, it waits uponSome god o' the island. Sitting on a bank,Weeping again the king my father's wreck,This music crept by me upon the waters69,Allaying both their fury and my passionWith its sweet air: thence I have follow'd it,Or it hath drawn me rather. But 'tis gone.No, it begins again.

ARIEL sings

Full fathom five thy father lies;Of his bones are coral made;Those are pearls that were his eyes:70

Nothing of him that doth fadeBut doth suffer a sea-changeInto something rich and strange.Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell

Burthen Ding-dong

Hark! now I hear them,--Ding-dong71, bell.FERDINANDThe ditty does remember my drown'd father.This is no mortal business, nor no soundThat the earth owes. I hear it now above me.PROSPEROThe fringed curtains of thine eye advanceAnd say what thou seest yond.MIRANDA

67 Anaphora68 Onomatopoeia69 Personification70 Metaphor71 Onomatopoeia

What is't? a spirit?Lord, how it looks about! Believe me, sir,It carries a brave form. But 'tis a spirit.PROSPERONo, wench; it eats and sleeps and hath such sensesAs we have, such. This gallant which thou seestWas in the wreck; and, but he's something stain'dWith grief that's beauty's canker, thou mightst call himA goodly person: he hath lost his fellowsAnd strays about to find 'em.MIRANDAI might call himA thing divine, for nothing naturalI ever saw so noble.PROSPERO[Aside] It goes on, I see,As my soul prompts it. Spirit, fine spirit! I'll free theeWithin two days for this.FERDINANDMost sure, the goddessOn whom these airs attend! Vouchsafe my prayerMay know if you remain upon this island;And that you will some good instruction giveHow I may bear me here: my prime request,Which I do last pronounce, is, O you wonder!If you be maid or no?MIRANDANo wonder, sir;But certainly a maid.FERDINANDMy language! heavens!I am the best of them that speak this speech,Were I but where 'tis spoken.PROSPEROHow? the best?What wert thou, if the King of Naples heard thee?FERDINANDA single thing, as I am now, that wondersTo hear thee speak of Naples. He does hear me;And that he does I weep: myself am Naples,Who with mine eyes, never since at ebb, beheldThe king my father wreck'd.MIRANDAAlack, for mercy!FERDINANDYes, faith, and all his lords; the Duke of MilanAnd his brave son being twain.PROSPERO[Aside] The Duke of MilanAnd his more braver daughter could control thee,

If now 'twere fit to do't. At the first sightThey have changed eyes. Delicate Ariel,I'll set thee free for this.

To FERDINAND

A word, good sir;I fear you have done yourself some wrong: a word.72

MIRANDAWhy speaks my father so ungently? ThisIs the third man that e'er I saw, the firstThat e'er I sigh'd for73: pity move my fatherTo be inclined my way!FERDINANDO, if a virgin,And your affection not gone forth, I'll make youThe queen of Naples.PROSPEROSoft, sir! one word more.

Aside

They are both in either's powers; but this swift businessI must uneasy make, lest too light winningMake the prize light.

To FERDINAND

One word more; I charge theeThat thou attend me: thou dost here usurpThe name thou owest not; and hast put thyselfUpon this island as a spy, to win itFrom me, the lord on't.FERDINANDNo, as I am a man.MIRANDAThere's nothing ill can dwell in such a temple:If the ill spirit have so fair a house,Good things will strive to dwell with't.PROSPEROFollow me.Speak not you for him; he's a traitor. Come;I'll manacle thy neck and feet together:Sea-water shalt thou drink; thy food shall beThe fresh-brook muscles, wither'd roots and husksWherein the acorn cradled. Follow.FERDINAND

72 Epanalepsis73 Parallelism

No;I will resist such entertainment tillMine enemy has more power.

Draws, and is charmed from moving

MIRANDAO dear father,Make not too rash a trial of him, forHe's gentle and not fearful.PROSPEROWhat? I say,My foot my tutor? Put thy sword up, traitor;Who makest a show but darest not strike, thy conscienceIs so possess'd with guilt: come from thy ward,For I can here disarm thee with this stickAnd make thy weapon drop.

MIRANDABeseech you, father.PROSPEROHence! hang not on my garments.MIRANDASir, have pity;I'll be his surety.PROSPEROSilence! one word moreShall make me chide thee, if not hate thee. What!An advocate for an imposter! hush!Thou think'st there is no more such shapes as he,Having seen but him and Caliban: foolish wench!To the most of men this is a CalibanAnd they to him are angels.74

MIRANDAMy affectionsAre then most humble; I have no ambitionTo see a goodlier man.PROSPEROCome on; obey:Thy nerves are in their infancy againAnd have no vigour in them.FERDINANDSo they are;My spirits, as in a dream, are all bound up.My father's loss, the weakness which I feel,75The wreck of all my friends, nor this man's threats,To whom I am subdued, are but light to me,Might I but through my prison once a day

74 Allusion75 Anaphora

Behold this maid: all corners else o' the earthLet liberty make use of; space enoughHave I in such a prison.PROSPERO[Aside] It works.

To FERDINAND

Come on.Thou hast done well, fine Ariel!

To FERDINAND

Follow me.

To ARIEL

Hark what thou else shalt do me.MIRANDABe of comfort;My father's of a better nature, sir,Than he appears by speech: this is unwontedWhich now came from him.PROSPEROThou shalt be freeAs mountain winds76: but then exactly doAll points of my command.ARIELTo the syllable.PROSPEROCome, follow. Speak not for him. (Exeunt)

76 Simil