CALIBAN [Laying his cheek on Miranda’s hand weeps, with great sobs.] Spring—Spring-i’-the-air, thy dew Dabbleth my face. O wonder, what art thou That fillest so mine eyes with rain-shine?
MIRANDA April, Not I, can conjure spring i’ the air, and April Plies rarest art in England.—Ariel, Fetch us, from out my father’s dreamery, Nature’s spring-charm and echo of English song! [To the Spirits of Ariel.] Our greenwood cloth! Come, busk him, merry men all: Aye, both of us!
CALIBAN [Rapturously.] This time I will not fail thee.
MIRANDA [To Prospero, indicating Caliban.] Have faith in this fellow-creature, and let these spirits Clothe him anew.
PROSPERO As you like it, dear, be it so!
[The Spirits clothe Caliban and Miranda in green, while from within the Cloudy Curtains an unseen chorus sings:]
THE CHORUS “Under the greenwood tree Who loves to lie with me, And tune his merry note Unto the sweet bird’s throat, Come hither, come hither, come hither: Here shall he see No enemy But winter and rough weather.”
ARIEL Spirits within, ho! [The Spirits run through the curtains, at centre, and disappear within.] Prosper’s hood Broods now a dream of Arden wood, Where young Orlando, daring fight For succor of old Adam’s plight, Defies the greenwood company— But meets there with no enemy.
CALIBAN [By the throne with Miranda and Prospero, murmurs aloud:] No enemy! [As Ariel raises his staff, the Cloudy Curtains part, disclosing