CERES. Earth's increase, foison plenty,
Barns and gamers never empty;
Vines with clust'ring bunches growing,
Plants with goodly burden bowing;
Spring come to you at the farthest,
In the very end of harvest!
Scarcity and want shall shun you,
Ceres' blessing so is on you.
FERDINAND. This is a most majestic vision, and
Harmonious charmingly. May I be bold
To think these spirits?
PROSPERO. Spirits, which by mine art
I have from their confines call'd to enact
My present fancies.
FERDINAND. Let me live here ever;
So rare a wond'red father and a wise
Makes this place Paradise.
[JUNO and CERES whisper, and send IRIS on employment]
PROSPERO. Sweet now, silence;
Juno and Ceres whisper seriously.
There's something else to do; hush, and be mute,
Or else our spell is marr'd.
IRIS. You nymphs, call'd Naiads, of the wind'ring brooks,
With your sedg'd crowns and ever harmless looks,
Leave your crisp channels, and on this green land
Answer your summons; Juno does command.
Come, temperate nymphs, and help to celebrate
A contract of true love; be not too late.
[Enter certain NYMPHS]
You sun-burnt sicklemen, of August weary,
Come hither from the furrow, and be merry;
Make holiday; your rye-straw hats put on,
And these fresh nymphs encounter every one
In country footing.
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