Once more that isle where I beheld you first.
Might I behold it once again and but
For once, I then were satisfied, so you
Were by my side beholding it likewise.
Ferdinand. Would I might bear thee hence within this hour,
For that dear isle I love because of thee.
But our philosophers declare the spot
Was but enchantment rais’d by wizard spells
And sunk in ocean’s maw when Prospero,
Thy father, will’d it; never yet laid down