CALIBAN [With wailing cry.] Ah—yo!
PROSPERO The will of Setebos is matched with mine To rule our world. Time shall award the prize— Mine own Miranda—to his power or mine. His might is awful, but mine art is deep To foil his power and exalt mine own. Ariel, thy spirits shall help me.
ARIEL Master, how?
PROSPERO Thou, long time artless, now shalt learn mine art To win my goal—Miranda’s freedom. Never Till this immortal Caliban shall rise To lordly reason, can Miranda hold Her maiden gladness undismayed. For that I will release thee from those fangs Of Setebos.
ARIEL For that, dear master, I have waited Long ages, dreaming.
PROSPERO So, wilt give thy promise To learn of me, and teach this monster here?
ARIEL O set me free to be thy servant ever. Master, I promise!
PROSPERO Fly! Run free!—Unfang him, Setebos! [Prospero raises his staff. Slowly the tiger-jaws of the Idol open their fangs. Ariel, with a joyous cry, slips into the air, and—as he floats fluttering to the earth—his unseen choir of Spirits sing with shrilly gladness:]
SPIRITS OF ARIEL Prospero! Prospero! Hail!
ARIEL [Dancing on the earth.] Free! Free!