Ferd. O see, sir, see, What mischief my unhappy hand has wrought!
Prosp. Alas! how much in vain doth feeble art Endeavour to resist the will of heaven? [Rubs Hip.
He's gone for ever; O thou cruel son Of an inhuman father! all my designs Are ruined and unravelled by this blow. No pleasure now is left me but revenge.
Ferd. Sir, if you knew my innocence—
Prosp. Peace, peace! Can thy excuses give me back his life? What, Ariel? sluggish spirit, where art thou?
Enter Ariel.
Ariel. Here, at thy beck, my lord.
Prosp. Ay, now thou comest, When fate is past, and not to be recalled. Look there, and glut the malice of thy nature; For, as thou art thyself, thou canst not but Be glad to see young virtue nipt i' the blossom.
Ariel. My lord, the Being, high above, can witness, I am not glad; we airy spirits are not of A temper so malicious as the earthy, But of a nature more approaching good. For which we meet in swarms, and often combat Betwixt the confines of the air and earth.
Prosp. Why didst thou not prevent, at least foretel, This fatal action then?