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Shakespeare, William, 1564-1616

"The Tempest"

Sir, I am vex'd;
Bear with my weakness; my old brain is troubled;
Be not disturb'd with my infirmity.
If you be pleas'd, retire into my cell
And there repose; a turn or two I'll walk
To still my beating mind.
FERDINAND, MIRANDA. We wish your peace. [Exeunt]
PROSPERO. Come, with a thought. I thank thee, Ariel; come.
[Enter ARIEL]
ARIEL. Thy thoughts I cleave to. What's thy pleasure?
PROSPERO. Spirit,
We must prepare to meet with Caliban.
ARIEL. Ay, my commander. When I presented 'Ceres.'
I thought to have told thee of it; but I fear'd
Lest I might anger thee.
PROSPERO. Say again, where didst thou leave these varlets?
ARIEL. I told you, sir, they were red-hot with drinking;
So full of valour that they smote the air
For breathing in their faces; beat the ground
For kissing of their feet; yet always bending
Towards their project. Then I beat my tabor,
At which like unback'd colts they prick'd their ears,
Advanc'd their eyelids, lifted up their noses
As they smelt music; so I charm'd their ears,
That calf-like they my lowing follow'd through
Tooth'd briers, sharp furzes, pricking goss, and thorns,
Which ent'red their frail shins.


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