MIRANDA [Eagerly.] O, now his fettered Spirits: Free them too!
PROSPERO Well urged, my own Miranda.—Setebos, Disgorge these long-embowelled choirs!—Spirits, Come forth!
[Again Prospero raises his staff.
Yawning enormous, the toad-mouth of the Idol, fitted with green and blue light, widens to a lurid aperture out of which come forth—dancing—the star-bright Spirits of Ariel.
As they come, Ariel—springing toward Caliban—cries exultingly:]
ARIEL Now, Caliban, we dance by yellow sands!
[Singing as they rush forth, the Spirits dart with Ariel swiftly about the grovelling Caliban and chase him, dodging and whining, down the steps to the ground-circle, mottled with its shadowy continents of the world, and rimmed with its long, yellow wave-lines.]
SPIRITS OF ARIEL “Come unto these yellow sands, And then take hands: Courtsied when you have and kiss’d The wild waves whist. Foot it featly here and there And, sweet sprites, the burthen bear: Hark, hark! Bow-wow! The watch-dogs bark: Bow-wow! Hark, hark! I hear The strain of strutting chanticleer Cry: cock-o-diddle-dow!”
[Encircling Caliban in their dance, and pelting him with bright handfuls of the yellow sands, they tease and drive him howling into his cave cell, where his dark, monstrous shape silhouettes for a moment on the orange-red glow, then vanishes within.
As he disappears, to their last “Bow-wow!” and “"Cock-a-diddle-dow!”, they hasten back above to Ariel, who leads them before Prospero.]