University of Virginia Library

IV.

A pine grove by the sea. Ariel as a forester.
Ariel.
Free, free at last! Yet bound by a chain whose links
Are the heart's memories. Free to roam unchecked,
Untasked. Free as these glancing dancing waves,
This summer wind. But by an inward need
Of action, and by late-born sympathies
With human life, bound not the less to serve;—
Though for the present I must waste my art
Upon this son of Sycorax. Yet I have seen
A kindlier sight flash in his brutish eyes,
And in his harsh voice heard a tenderer tone.
I think he almost loves me. But alas,
What room for human fellowship, what hope
To evolve the obstructed and distorted germ
Of manhood here, in idle solitude
Haunted by soulless elves and sprites—a land
By human hearts and human intellects
Untenanted? Around us Nature smiles
In indolent repose—too beautiful,
Too soft—a land of dull lethargic ease,
Steeped in the oblivion of the sleepy South.
(Pauses in thought.)
I know another island—where the North
Blows with a fresher wind;—where pulses bound
Electric to assured results of thought.
Its fertile plains, its rocky coasts and hills
Are peopled with a vigorous race. Its ports,
Forests of masts; its fields by labor tilled;
Its growing towns and cities from afar
Flash in the morning of a crystal sky,
And stud its winding streams like jewels strung
On silver threads:—a people brave and strong,
Yet peaceful, and advancing in all arts,
Science and culture, by wise freedom nursed.
Oft in my master's errands flying north
I have seen it far across the wrinkling waves,
Facing the sunrise like a golden cloud,
And heard the humming of its alien marts.
And thither we might sail—I and this slave
That was—not long a slave when he has known
Contact with men of a superior mould
In bonds of law and human brotherhood.

Caliban
(who has been approaching unperceived).
Good brother Ariel, you are lost in thought.
I know 't is about something wise and good.
Come—don't be glum. A penny for your thoughts.

Ariel.
How like you this fair island, Caliban?

Caliban.
Oh, well enough—not having known a better.
And yet 't is lonely here—a prison still,
Although our jailer 's gone. And I would fain
See some new faces—not Italian dukes
Or jesters—I have had enough of them—
But like your own, whene'er you let yourself
Be seen, and condescend to talk with me.

Ariel.
What think you of a voyage from this shore
To another island?—better far than this,
I needs must think; a place where men have built
Great cities, tilled broad fields, and sail huge ships—
A home for you and me more fit than this;
For I'm becoming human very fast,
While you will need ere long some earthlier friend.

Caliban.
Well—on the whole I'm tired of this dull life,
And don't object to see some other lands:
But how do you propose to sail away
Without a ship?

Ariel.
We'll see. Trust me for that.
One task the more my magic shall achieve.
We'll build a boat. Your toil shall not be great.
Yet your old task you must resume awhile,
And bring me a few logs.

Caliban.
Most willingly
For you, good Ariel. But for Prospero—
Thank Heaven, I've carried my last load for him!

(They retire, talking together.)