Prospero was much pleased with the way Ariel had performed his charge, but he said there was still some further work to do. He promised that if all went well Ariel in two days should be set free from service, and henceforward should be his own master. He bade Ariel now take a new shape--that of a nymph of the sea, invisible to all but his own master. In this guise Ariel approached the young Prince of Naples, and began to sing in the sweetest fashion: “Full fathom five thy father lies; Of his bones a’e coral made; Those are pearls that were his eyes: Nothing of him that doth fade, But doth suffer a sea-change Into something rich and strange. Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell: Hark! now I hear them, ding-dong, bell.” Lured by the sound of this sweet singing, which came he knew not whence, Ferdinand followed the unseen Ariel into the presence of Prospero and Miranda. Now, excepting her father, Miranda had never seen a man, and at first she did not know what Ferdinand was. “Is it a spirit, father?” she asked. “No, child; it eats and sleeps, and has the same senses that we have. This gallant whom you see was in the wreck, and except that his handsome face is somewhat worn with grief and trouble, you might call him a goodly person. He has lost his companions, and wanders about to find them.” “I might call him a thing divine,” replied Miranda warmly, “for I never saw anything so noble.” Ferdinand, in his turn, was equally enchanted with the sight of Miranda, and declared on the spot that, if there were no one else whom she already loved, he would make her Queen of Naples. Prospero was delighted with the way matters were going, for it was his desire that the young people should love each other; but fearing that a prize so easily won would be held too light, he began to throw some difficulties in the way. He pretended to believe that Ferdinand was not really a King’s son, and had come to the island as a spy. He declared he would put him into fetters, and give him only the coarsest food to eat. In vain Miranda implored her father to treat the young Prince less harshly. Prospero told her to be silent, and roughly bade Ferdinand to follow him. The Prince was naturally indignant at such uncourteous treatment, and hastily drew his sword in defiance. But Prospero threw a sudden spell over the young man, and he stood motionless, unable to stir. “What? Put thy sword up, traitor!” commanded Prospero sternly. And Ferdinand, feeling himself powerless to resist, and happy that in his prison he should at least have the pleasure of beholding the beautiful maiden who had so kindly pleaded for him, followed obediently when the magician again summoned him. The Shipwrecked Wanderers