Enter ARIEL
  ARIEL. All hail, great master! grave sir, hail! I come
     To answer thy best pleasure; be't to fly,
     To swim, to dive into the fire, to ride
     On the curl'd clouds. To thy strong bidding task
     Ariel and all his quality.
   PROSPERO. Hast thou, spirit,
     Perform'd to point the tempest that I bade thee?
   ARIEL. To every article.
     I boarded the King's ship; now on the beak,
     Now in the waist, the deck, in every cabin,
     I flam'd amazement. Sometime I'd divide,
     And burn in many places; on the topmast,
     The yards, and bowsprit, would I flame distinctly,
     Then meet and join Jove's lightning, the precursors
     O' th' dreadful thunder-claps, more momentary
     And sight-outrunning were not; the fire and cracks
     Of sulphurous roaring the most mighty Neptune
     Seem to besiege, and make his bold waves tremble,
     Yea, his dread trident shake.
   PROSPERO. My brave spirit!
     Who was so firm, so constant, that this coil
     Would not infect his reason?
   ARIEL. Not a soul
     But felt a fever of the mad, and play'd
     Some tricks of desperation. All but mariners
     Plung'd in the foaming brine, and quit the vessel,
     Then all afire with me; the King's son, Ferdinand,
     With hair up-staring-then like reeds, not hair-
     Was the first man that leapt; cried 'Hell is empty,
     And all the devils are here.'
   PROSPERO. Why, that's my spirit!
     But was not this nigh shore?
   ARIEL. Close by, my master.
   PROSPERO. But are they, Ariel, safe?
   ARIEL. Not a hair perish'd;
     On their sustaining garments not a blemish,
     But fresher than before; and, as thou bad'st me,
     In troops I have dispers'd them 'bout the isle.
     The King's son have I landed by himself,
     Whom I left cooling of the air with sighs
     In an odd angle of the isle, and sitting,
     His arms in this sad knot.
   PROSPERO. Of the King's ship,
     The mariners, say how thou hast dispos'd,
     And all the rest o' th' fleet?
   ARIEL. Safely in harbour
     Is the King's ship; in the deep nook, where once
     Thou call'dst me up at midnight to fetch dew
     From the still-vex'd Bermoothes, there she's hid;
     The mariners all under hatches stowed,
     Who, with a charm join'd to their suff'red labour,
     I have left asleep; and for the rest o' th' fleet,
     Which I dispers'd, they all have met again,
     And are upon the Mediterranean flote
     Bound sadly home for Naples,
     Supposing that they saw the King's ship wreck'd,
     And his great person perish.
   PROSPERO. Ariel, thy charge
     Exactly is perform'd; but there's more work.
     What is the time o' th' day?
   ARIEL. Past the mid season.
   PROSPERO. At least two glasses. The time 'twixt six and now
     Must by us both be spent most preciously.
   ARIEL. Is there more toil? Since thou dost give me pains,
     Let me remember thee what thou hast promis'd,
     Which is not yet perform'd me.
   PROSPERO. How now, moody?
     What is't thou canst demand?
   ARIEL. My liberty.
   PROSPERO. Before the time be out? No more!
   ARIEL. I prithee,
     Remember I have done thee worthy service,
     Told thee no lies, made thee no mistakings, serv'd
     Without or grudge or grumblings. Thou didst promise
     To bate me a full year.
   PROSPERO. Dost thou forget
     From what a torment I did free thee?
   ARIEL. No.
   PROSPERO. Thou dost; and think'st it much to tread the ooze
     Of the salt deep,
     To run upon the sharp wind of the north,
     To do me business in the veins o' th' earth
     When it is bak'd with frost.
   ARIEL. I do not, sir.
   PROSPERO. Thou liest, malignant thing. Hast thou forgot
     The foul witch Sycorax, who with age and envy
     Was grown into a hoop? Hast thou forgot her?
   ARIEL. No, sir.
   PROSPERO. Thou hast. Where was she born?
     Speak; tell me.
   ARIEL. Sir, in Argier.
   PROSPERO. O, was she so? I must
     Once in a month recount what thou hast been,
     Which thou forget'st. This damn'd witch Sycorax,
     For mischiefs manifold, and sorceries terrible
     To enter human hearing, from Argier
     Thou know'st was banish'd; for one thing she did
     They would not take her life. Is not this true?
   ARIEL. Ay, sir.
   PROSPERO. This blue-ey'd hag was hither brought with child,
     And here was left by th'sailors. Thou, my slave,
     As thou report'st thyself, wast then her servant;
     And, for thou wast a spirit too delicate
     To act her earthy and abhorr'd commands,
     Refusing her grand hests, she did confine thee,
     By help of her more potent ministers,
     And in her most unmitigable rage,
     Into a cloven pine; within which rift
     Imprison'd thou didst painfully remain
     A dozen years; within which space she died,
     And left thee there, where thou didst vent thy groans
     As fast as mill-wheels strike. Then was this island-
     Save for the son that she did litter here,
     A freckl'd whelp, hag-born-not honour'd with
     A human shape.
   ARIEL. Yes, Caliban her son.
   PROSPERO. Dull thing, I say so; he, that Caliban
     Whom now I keep in service. Thou best know'st
     What torment I did find thee in; thy groans
     Did make wolves howl, and penetrate the breasts
     Of ever-angry bears; it was a torment
     To lay upon the damn'd, which Sycorax
     Could not again undo. It was mine art,
     When I arriv'd and heard thee, that made gape
     The pine, and let thee out.
   ARIEL. I thank thee, master.
   PROSPERO. If thou more murmur'st, I will rend an oak
     And peg thee in his knotty entrails, till
     Thou hast howl'd away twelve winters.
   ARIEL. Pardon, master;
     I will be correspondent to command,
     And do my spriting gently.
   PROSPERO. Do so; and after two days
     I will discharge thee.
   ARIEL. That's my noble master!
     What shall I do? Say what. What shall I do?
   PROSPERO. Go make thyself like a nymph o' th' sea; be subject
     To no sight but thine and mine, invisible
     To every eyeball else. Go take this shape,
     And hither come in 't. Go, hence with diligence!
                                                       Exit ARIEL
     Awake, dear heart, awake; thou hast slept well;
     Awake.
   MIRANDA. The strangeness of your story put
     Heaviness in me.
   PROSPERO. Shake it off. Come on,
     We'll visit Caliban, my slave, who never
     Yields us kind answer.
   MIRANDA. 'Tis a villain, sir,
     I do not love to look on.
   PROSPERO. But as 'tis,
     We cannot miss him: he does make our fire,
     Fetch in our wood, and serves in offices
     That profit us. What ho! slave! Caliban!
     Thou earth, thou! Speak.
   CALIBAN. [ Within] There's wood enough within.
   PROSPERO. Come forth, I say; there's other business for thee.
     Come, thou tortoise! when?
Re-enter ARIEL like a water-nymph