University of Virginia Library

SCENE II.

The Inside of the Cave of Hippolyto.
Enter Ferdinand and Hippolyto, with drawn Swords.
Fer.
Come, sir, your cave affords no choice of place;
But the ground's firm and even: are you ready?

Hip.
As ready as yourself, sir.

Fer.
You remember
On what conditions we must fight:—who first
Receives a wound, is to submit.

Hip.
Come, come,
This loses time: now for the women, sir.

[They fight—Ferdinand touches him.
Fer.
Sir, you are wounded.

Hip.
No.

Fer.
Believe your blood.

Hip.
I feel no hurt; no matter for my blood.

Fer.
Nay, but remember our conditions, sir.

Hip.
I will not leave, till my sword hits you too.

[Hippolyto presses on—Ferdinand retires, and wards.
Fer.
I'm loath to kill you: you're unskilful, sir.

Hip.
You beat aside my sword; but let it come
As near as yours, and you shall see my skill.

Fer.
You faint for loss of blood; I see you stagger:
'Pray, sir, retire.

Hip.
No, I will ne'er go back,—
Methinks, the cave turns round,—I cannot find—
Why do you swim, and dance about me?
Stand still, till I have made one thrust.—

[Thrusts and falls.
Fer.
O help!
Help, help!—Unhappy man! what have I done?

Hip.
I'm going to a cold sleep; but, when I wake,
I'll fight again:—'Pray stay for me.

[Swoons.
Fer.
He's gone,
He's gone!—O stay, sweet, lovely youth! Help! help!—

Enter Prospero.
Pro.
What dismal noise is that?

Fer.
O see, sir, see,
What mischief my unlucky hand hath wrought.

Pro.
Alas, how much in vain doth feeble art
Endeavour to resist the will of Heaven!
He's gone for ever!—O, thou cruel son
Of an inhuman father! All my plans
Are ruin'd and unravell'd by this blow:
No pleasure now is left me, but revenge.

Fer.
Sir, if you knew my innocence,—

Pro.
Peace, peace!
Can thy excuses give me back his life?—
What, Ariel! sluggish spirit, where, where art thou?

Enter Ariel.
Ari.
Here, at thy beck, my lord.

Pro.
Ay, now thou com'st,
When fate is past, and not to be recall'd.
Look there, and glut the malice of thy nature;
For, as thou art thyself, thou canst not but
Be glad to see young virtue nipt i'the blossom.

Ari.
My lord, the Being high above can witness,
I am not glad.

Pro.
Why didst thou not prevent, at least foretel,
This fatal action then?

Ari.
Pardon, great sir,
I meant to do it; but I was forbidden
By the ill genius of Hippolyto,
Who came and threaten'd me, if I disclos'd it,
To bind me in the bottom of the sea,
Far from the lightsome regions of the air,
My native fields, above a hundred years.

Pro.
I'll chain thee in the north for thy neglect,
Within the burning bowels of mount Hecla;
I'll singe thy airy wings with sulphurous flames,
And choke thy tender nostrils with blue smoke;
At every hickup of the belching mountain,
Thou shalt be lifted up to taste fresh air,
And then fall down again.

Ari.
Pardon, dread lord!

Pro.
No more of pardon than just Heaven intends thee,
Shalt thou e'er find from me.—Hence; fly with speed;
Unbind the charm which holds this murderer's father,
And bring him with his followers straight before me.

[Exit Ariel.
Fer.
O Heavens! what words were those I heard,
Yet cannot see who spoke them? Sure, the nymph
I lov'd was, like to this, some airy vision.

Pro.
No, murderer, she's, like thee, of mortal mould;
But much too pure to mix with thy black crimes.—
Miranda and Dorinda,—come,—where are ye?
The will of Heaven's accomplish'd: I have now
No more to fear, and nothing left to hope:—
Now you may enter.

Enter Miranda and Dorinda.
Mir.
My love! is it permitted me to see
You once again?

Pro.
You come to look your last;
I will for ever take him from your eyes.—
Nay, on my blessing, speak not, nor approach him.

Dor.
'Pray, father, is not this my sister's man?
He has a noble form; but yet he's not
So excellent as my Hippolyto.

Pro.
Alas, poor girl, thou hast no man! Look yonder,
There's all of him that's left.

Dor.
Why, was there ever any more of him?
He lies asleep, sir; shall I waken him?

[She kneels by Hippolyto, and tries to waken him.
Fer.
Alas, he's never to be wak'd again!

Dor.
My love, my love?—Will not you speak to me?
I fear you have displeas'd him, sir, and now
He will not answer me:—he's dumb,—and cold too;—
But I'll run straight, and make a fire to warm him.
[Exit Dorinda.

Enter Ariel, Alonzo, Gonzalo, and Antonio.
Alon.
Never were beasts so hunted into toils,
As we have been pursu'd by dreadful shapes.—
Speak, is not that my son?

Fer.
My honour'd father!—

Alon.
O Ferdinand!

[Running to embrace him.
Pro.
There stand; for you are spell stopp'd.—
How now, sirs?
You gaze upon me, as you ne'er had seen me:
Have fifteen years so lost me to your knowledge,
That you retain no memory of Prospero?

Gon.
The good old Duke of Milan!

Pro.
I wonder less,
That thou, Antonio, know'st me not, because
Thou did'st long since forget I was thy brother;
Else had I ne'er been here.

Ant.
Shame chokes my words.

Alon.
And wonder mine.

Pro.
For you, usurping prince,
Know, by my art you were shipwreck'd on this isle;
Where, after I a while had punish'd you,
My vengeance would have ended; I design'd
To match that son of yours, with this my daughter.

Alon.
Pursue it still; I am most willing to it.

Pro.
So am not I. No marriages can prosper
Which are with murderers made:—Look on that corse:
This, while he liv'd, was Prince Hippolyto,
The rightful Duke of Mantua, sir, whom you,
Having depriv'd him of his inheritance,
Expos'd with me; and whom I here bred up,
Till that bloodthirsty man, that Ferdinand—
But why do I exclaim on him, when justice
Calls to unsheathe her sword against his guilt?

Alon.
What do you mean?

Pro.
To execute Heaven's laws:—
Here I am plac'd by Heaven, here I am prince,
Though you have dispossess'd me of my Milan:—
Blood calls for blood; your Ferdinand shall die;
And I, in bitterness, have sent for you,
To have the joy of seeing him alive,
And then the greater grief to see him die.

Alon.
And think'st thou I, or these, will tamely stand
To view the execution?

[Lays his Hand upon his Sword.
Pro.
Nay,—appear,
My guards,—
[He waves his Wand, and a Troop of Furies enters.
I thought, no more to use their aid;
But they are now the ministers of Heaven,
While I revenge this murder.—
This night I will allow you, Ferdinand,
To fit you for your death: that cave's your prison.

Alon.
Ah, Prospero, hear me speak: You are a father:
Feel for a father then, and spare my son.

Mir.
O, pity, pity—

Pro.
You implore in vain;
I have no room for pity left within me.—
Do you refuse?—Help, Ariel, with your followers;
Drive them in.

[Ariel and the Furies force them into an inner Cave.
Enter Dorinda.
Dor.
Sir, I have made a fire; shall he be warm'd?

Pro.
He's dead, and vital warmth will ne'er return.

Dor.
Dead, sir! what's that?

Pro.
His soul has left his body.

Dor.
When will it come again?

Pro.
O, never, never!
He must be laid in earth, and there consume.

Dor.
He shall not lie in earth: You do not know
How well he loves me: indeed, he'll come again;
He told me he would go a little while,
But promis'd me he would not tarry long.

Pro.
He's murder'd by the man who lov'd your sister.
Now both of you may learn what 'tis to break
A parent's precept: you would needs see men,
And, by that sight, are made for ever wretched:
Hippolyto is dead, and Ferdinand
Must die for murdering him.—Get you to bed.—
Your disobedience has so much incens'd me,
That I this night can leave no blessing with you.
[Exit Prospero.

Mir.
I must say, sister, it was long of you
That all this mischief happen'd.

Dor.
Blame not me
For your own fault; your curiosity
Brought me to see the man.

Mir.
You safely might
Have seen him, and retir'd; but you would needs
Go near him, and converse:—You may remember,
My father call'd me thence, and I call'd you.

Dor.
You call'd me thence, because you could not be
Alone with him yourself:—But, I am sure,
My man had never gone to heaven so soon,
But that yours made him go.

Mir.
I could not wish, that either of them should
Have gone to heaven without us; but it was
His fortune, and you must be satisfy'd.

Dor.
I'll not be satisfy'd: perhaps, you think,
'Tis nothing to lose a man.

Mir.
Yes; but there is
Some difference between my Ferdinand,
And your Hippolyto.

Dor.
Ay, there's your judgment:
Yours is the oldest man I ever saw,
Except my father.

Mir.
Sister, I'll never sleep with you again.

Dor.
I'll never more meet in a bed with you;
But lodge on the bare ground, and mourn my love:
Just at the entrance of his cave I'll lie,
And echo to each blast of wind a sigh.

[Exeunt.