_Ferd._ Let me live here ever; So rare a wonder'd[442-32] father and a wife Make this place Paradise. [_JUNO and CERES whisper, and send IRIS on employment._ _Pros._ 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 winding brooks, With your sedge crowns and ever-harmless looks, Leave your crisp[442-33] channels, and on this green land Answer our 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-burn'd sicklemen,[442-34] 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. _Enter certain _Reapers,_ properly habited: they join with the _Nymphs_ in a graceful dance; towards the end whereof PROSPERO starts suddenly, and speaks; after which, to a strange, hollow, and confused noise, they heavily vanish._ _Pros._ [_Aside._] I had forgot that foul conspiracy Of the beast Caliban and his confederates Against my life: the minute of their plot Is almost come.--[_To the_ Spirits.] Well done; avoid;[443-35] no more! _Ferd._ This is most strange: your father's in some passion That works him strongly. _Mira._ Never till this day Saw I him touch'd with anger so distemper'd. _Pros._ You do, my son, look in a moved sort, As if you were dismay'd: be cheerful, sir. Our revels now are ended. These our actors, As I foretold you, were all spirits, and Are melted into air, into thin air: And, like the baseless fabric of this vision, The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces, The solemn temples, the great globe itself, Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve, And, like this insubstantial pageant faded, Leave not a rack[443-36] behind. We are such stuff As dreams are made on,[443-37] and our little life Is rounded[443-38] with a sleep. Sir, I am vex'd; Bear with my weakness; my old brain is troubled: Be not disturb'd with my infirmity: If you be pleased, retire into my cell, And there repose: a turn or two I'll walk, To still my beating mind. _Ferd._ } _Mira._ } We wish you peace. _Pros._ [_To ARIEL._] Come with a thought!-- I thank ye.[444-39] [_Exeunt FERD. and MIRA._]--Ariel, come! _Re-enter ARIEL._ _Ari._ Thy thoughts I cleave to: what's thy pleasure? _Pros._ Spirit, We must prepare to meet with[444-40] Caliban. _Ari._ Ay, my commander: when I presented Ceres, I thought t' have told thee of it; but I fear'd Lest I might anger thee.