Ferd. This is a most majestic vision, and
Harmonious charmingly. May I be bold
To think these spirits?[441-31]
Pros. Spirits, which by mine art
I have from their confines call’d to enact
My present fancies.
Ferd. Let me live here ever;
So rare a wonder’d[442-32] father and a wife
Make this place Paradise. [Juno and Ceres whisper, and send Iris on employment.
Pros. Sweet, now, silence!
Juno and Ceres whisper seriously;
There’s something else to do: hush, and be mute,
Or else our spell is marr’d.
Iris. You nymphs, call’d Naiads, of the winding brooks,
With your sedge crowns and ever-harmless looks,
Leave your crisp[442-33] channels, and on this green land
Answer our summons; Juno does command:
Come, temperate nymphs, and help to celebrate
A contract of true love; be not too late.—
Enter certain Nymphs.
You sun-burn’d sicklemen,[442-34] of August weary,
Come hither from the furrow, and be merry:
Make holiday; your rye-straw hats put on,
And these fresh nymphs encounter every one
In country footing.
Enter certain Reapers, properly habited: they join with the Nymphs in a graceful dance; towards the end whereof Prospero starts suddenly, and speaks; after which, to a strange, hollow, and confused noise, they heavily vanish.
Pros. [Aside.] I had forgot that foul conspiracy
Of the beast Caliban and his confederates
Against my life: the minute of their plot
Is almost come.—[To the Spirits.] Well done; avoid;[443-35] no more!