Page 1038 - Shakespeare - Vol. 4

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 leap’d; cried, «Hell is empty,

And all the devils are here.»

PROSPERO
Why, that’s my spirit! [215]
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. [220]
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, [225]
And all the rest o’ th’ fleet.

ARIEL
Safely in harbour
In 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 sh’s hid:
The mariners all under katches stow’d; [230]