SCENE II.
Hippolito discovered on a couch, Dorinda by him.
Dor. How do you find yourself?
Hip. I'm somewhat cold; Can you not draw me nearer to the sun? I am too weak to walk.
Dor. My love, I'll try. [She draws the chair nearer to the audience.
I thought you never would have walked again; They told me you were gone to heaven; Have you been there?
Hip. I know not where I was.
Dor. I will not leave you, till you promise me, You will not die again.
Hip. Indeed, I will not.
Dor. You must not go to heaven, unless we go Together; for I have heard my father say, That we must strive to be each other's guide, The way to it will else be difficult, Especially to those who are so young; But I much wonder what it is to die.
Hip. Sure 'tis to dream, a kind of breathless sleep, When once the soul's gone out.
Dor. What is the soul?
Hip. A small blue thing, that runs about within us.
Dor. Then I have seen it in a frosty morning, Run smoaking from my mouth.
Hip. But, dear Dorinda, What is become of him who fought with me?
Dor. O! I can tell you joyful news of him; My father means to make him die to-day, For what he did to you.
Hip. That must not be, My dear Dorinda; go, and beg your father, He may not die; it was my fault he hurt me, I urged him to it first.
Dor. But if he live, he'll never leave killing you.
Hip. O no! I just remember when I fell asleep, I heard him calling me a great way off, And crying over me as you would do; Besides, we have no cause of quarrel now.
Dor. Pray, how began your difference first?
Hip. I fought with him, for all the women in the world.
Dor. That hurt you had, was justly sent from heaven, For wishing to have any more but me.
Hip. Indeed I think it was, but I repent it; The fault was only in my blood, for now 'Tis gone, I find I do not love so many.
Dor. In confidence of this, I'll beg my father That he may live; I'm glad the naughty blood, That made you love so many, is gone out.
Hip. My dear, go quickly, lest you come too late. [Exit Dor.
Enter Miranda at the other door, with Hippolito's sword wrapt up.
Hip. Who's this, who looks so fair and beautiful, As nothing but Dorinda can surpass her? O! I believe it is that angel woman, Whom she calls sister.
Mir. Sir, I am sent hither To dress your wound; how do you find your strength?
Hip. Fair creature, I am faint with loss of blood.
Mir. I am sorry for it.
Hip. Indeed, and so am I, For if I had that blood, I then should find A great delight in loving you.
Mir. But, sir, I am another's, and your love is given Already to my sister.
Hip. Yet I find, That, if you please, I can love still a little.
Mir. I cannot be inconstant, nor should you.
Hip. O my wound pains me.
Mir. I am come to ease you. [She unwraps the sword.
Hip. Alas! I feel the cold air come to me; My wound shoots worse than ever. [She wipes, and anoints the sword.
Mir. Does it still grieve you?
Hip. Now methinks, there's something Laid just upon it.
Mir. Do you find no ease?
Hip. Yes, yes, upon the sudden, all the pain Is leaving me: Sweet heaven, how I am eased!
Enter Ferdinand and Dorinda to them.
Ferd. [to Dor.] Madam, I must confess my life is yours, I owe it to your generosity.
Dor. I am overjoyed my father lets you live, And proud of my good fortune, that he gave Your life to me.
Mir. How? gave his life to her!
Hip. Alas! I think she said so, and he said, He owed it to her generosity.
Ferd. But is not that your sister with Hippolito?
Dor. So kind already?
Ferd. I came to welcome life, and I have met The cruellest of deaths.
Hip. My dear Dorinda with another man?
Dor. Sister, what business have you here?
Mir. You see I dress Hippolito.
Dor. You're very charitable to a stranger.
Mir. You are not much behind in charity, To beg a pardon for a man, whom you Scarce ever saw before.
Dor. Henceforward let your surgery alone, For I had rather he should die, than you Should cure his wound.
Mir. And I wish Ferdinand had died, before He owed his life to your entreaty.
Ferd. to Hip. Sir, I am glad you are so well recovered. You keep your humour still to have all women?
Hip. Not all, sir; you except one of the number, Your new love there, Dorinda.
Mir. Ah, Ferdinand! can you become inconstant? If I must lose you, I had rather death Should take you from me, than you take yourself.
Ferd. And if I might have chose, I would have wished That death from Prospero, and not this from you.
Dor. Ay, now I find why I was sent away, That you might have my sister's company.
Hip. Dorinda, kill me not with your unkindness; This is too much, first to be false yourself, And then accuse me too.
Ferd. We all accuse Each other, and each one denies their guilt: I should be glad it were a mutual error; And, therefore, first to clear myself from fault, Madam, I beg your pardon, while I say, I only love your sister. [To Dor.
Mir. O, blest word! I'm sure I love no man but Ferdinand,
Dor. Nor I, heaven knows, but my Hippolito.
Hip. I never knew I loved so much, before I feared Dorinda's constancy; but now I am convinced, that I loved none but her; Because none else can recompense her loss.
Ferd. 'Twas happy, then, we had this little trial; But how we all so much mistook I know not.
Mir. I have only this to say in my defence; My father sent me hither, to attend The wounded stranger.
Dor. And Hippolito Sent me to beg the life of Ferdinand.
Ferd. From such small errors, left at first unheeded, Have often sprung sad accidents in love.— But see, our fathers and our friends are come To mix their joys with ours.
Enter Prospero, Alonzo, Antonio, and Gonzalo.
Alon. to Prosp. Let it no more be thought of; Your purpose, though it was severe, was just. In losing Ferdinand, I should have mourned, But could not have complained.
Pros. Sir, I am glad Kind heaven decreed it otherwise.
Dor. O, wonder! How many goodly creatures are there here! How beauteous mankind is!
Hip. O, brave new world, That has such people in't!
Alon. to Ferd. Now all the blessings Of a glad father compass thee about, And make thee happy in thy beauteous choice.
Gonz. I've inward wept, or should have spoken ere this.— Look down, sweet heaven! and on this couple drop A blessed crown; for it is you chalked out The way, which brought us hither.
Anto. Though penitence, Forced by necessity, can scarce seem real, Yet, dearest brother, I have hope my blood May plead for pardon with you: I resign Dominion, which, 'tis true, I could not keep, But heaven knows too, I would not.
Prosp. All past crimes I bury in the joy of this blessed day.
Alon. And, that I may not be behind in justice, To this young prince I render back his dukedom, And as the duke of Mantua thus salute him.
Hip. What is it that you render back? methinks You give me nothing.
Prosp. You are to be lord Of a great people, and o'er towns and cities.
Hip. And shall these people be all men and women?
Gonz. Yes, and shall call you lord.
Hip. Why, then, I'll live no longer in a prison, But have a whole cave to myself hereafter.
Prosp. And, that your happiness may be complete, I give you my Dorinda for your wife: She shall be yours for ever, when the priest Has made you one.
Hip. How can he make us one? Shall I grow to her?
Prosp. By saying holy words, you shall be joined In marriage to each other.
Dor. I warrant you, those holy words are charms: My father means to conjure us together.
Prosp. My Ariel told me, when last night you quarrelled, [To his daughters.
You said you would for ever part your beds. But what you threatened in your anger, heaven Has turned to prophecy; For you, Miranda, must with Ferdinand, And you, Dorinda, with Hippolito, Lie in one bed hereafter.
Alon. And heaven make Those beds still fruitful in producing children, To bless their parents' youth, and grandsires' age.
Mir. to Dor. If children come by lying in a bed, I wonder you and I had none between us.
Dor. Sister, it was our fault; we meant, like fools, To look 'em in the fields, and they, it seems, Are only found in beds.
Hip. I am o'er-joyed, That I shall have Dorinda in a bed; We'll lie all night and day together there, And never rise again.
Ferd. [Aside to him.] Hippolito! You yet Are ignorant of your great happiness; But there is something, which, for your own and fair Dorinda's sake, I must instruct you in.
Hip. Pray teach me quickly, How men and women, in your world, make love; I shall soon learn, I warrant you.
Enter Ariel, driving in Stephano, Trincalo, Mustacho, Ventoso, Caliban and Sycorax.
Prosp. Why that's my dainty Ariel; I shall miss thee, But yet thou shalt have freedom.
Gonz. O look, sir, look! The master and the sailors— The boatswain too—my prophecy is out, That if a gallows were on land, that man Could ne'er be drowned.
Alon. Now, blasphemy; what, not one oath ashore! Hast thou no mouth by land? Why starest thou so? [To Trincalo.
Trinc. What! more dukes yet? I must resign my dukedom; But 'tis no matter, I was almost starved in't.
Must. Here's nothing but wild sallads, without oil, or vinegar.
Steph. The duke and prince alive! Would I had now Our gallant ship again, and were her master: I'd willingly give all my island for her.
Vent. And I my viceroyship.
Trinc. I shall need no hangman; for I shall even hang myself, now my friend Butt has shed his last drop of life. Poor Butt is quite departed.
Anto. They talk like madmen.
Prosp. No matter, time will bring 'em to themselves, And now their wine is gone, they will not quarrel. Your ship is safe and tight, and bravely rigged, As when you first set sail.
Alon. This news is wonderful.
Ariel. Was it well done, my lord?
Gonz. But pray, sir, what are those mis-shapen creatures?
Prosp. Their mother was a witch; and one so strong, She would controul the moon, make flows and ebbs, And deal in her command without her power.
Syc. O Setebos! these be brave spirits indeed.
Prosp. Go, sirrah, to my cell, and, as you hope For pardon, trim it up. [To Calib.
Calib. Most carefully. I will be wise hereafter. What a dull fool was I, to take those drunkards For gods, when such as these were in the world?
Prosp. Sir, I invite your highness and your train To my poor cave this night; a part of which I will employ, in telling you my story.
Alon. No doubt it must be strangely taking, sir.
Prosp. When the morn draws, I'll bring you to your ship, And promise you calm seas, and happy gales. My Ariel, that's thy charge: Then to the elements Be free, and fare thee well!
Ariel. I'll do it, master.
Prosp. Now, to make amends For the rough treatment you have found to-day, I'll entertain you with my magic art; I'll, by my power, transform this place, and call Up those, that shall make good my promise to you.