_Ferd._ This must have more importance than an echo; Some spirit tempts me to a precipice. I'll try if it will answer when I sing My sorrows, to the murmur of this brook. HE SINGS. _Go thy way._ Ariel. _Go thy way._ Ferd. _Why shouldst thou stay?_ Ariel. _Why shouldst thou stay?_ Ferd. _Where the winds whistle, and where the streams creep, Under yon willow-tree fain would I sleep. Then let me alone, For 'tis time to be gone._ Ariel. _For 'tis time to be gone._ Ferd. _What cares or pleasures can be in this isle? Within this desart place, There lives no human race; Fate cannot frown here, nor kind fortune smile._ Ariel. _Kind fortune smiles, and she Has yet in store for thee Some strange felicity. Follow me, follow me, And thou shalt see._ _Ferd._ I'll take thy word for once; Lead on, musician. [_Exeunt and return._ SCENE V.--_The Cypress-trees and Caves._ _Scene changes, and discovers_ PROSPERO _and_ MIRANDA. _Prosp._ Advance the fringed curtains of thine eyes, And say what thou seest yonder. _Mir._ Is it a spirit? Lord, how it looks about! Sir, I confess it carries a brave form. But 'tis a spirit. _Prosp._ No, girl, it eats, and sleeps, and has such senses As we have. This young gallant, whom thou see'st, Was in the wreck; were he not somewhat stained With grief, (beauty's worst canker) thou might'st call him A goodly person; he has lost his company, And strays about to find them. _Mir._ I might call him A thing divine, for nothing natural I ever saw so noble. _Prosp._ It goes on, As my soul prompts it: Spirit, fine spirit, I'll free thee within two days for this. [_Aside._ _Ferd._ She's sure the mistress on whom these airs attend. Fair excellence! if, as your form declares, You are divine, be pleased to instruct me how You will be worshipped; so bright a beauty Cannot sure belong to human kind. _Mir._ I am, like you, a mortal, if such you are. _Ferd._ My language, too! O heavens! I am the best Of them who speak this speech, when I'm in my Own country. _Prosp._ How, the best? what wert thou, if The duke of Savoy heard thee? _Ferd._ As I am now; Who wonders to hear thee speak of Savoy; He does hear me, and that he does, I weep. Myself am Savoy, whose fatal eyes (ne'er since at ebb) beheld The duke, my father, wrecked. _Mir._ Alack! for pity! _Prosp._ At the first sight they have changed eyes. Dear Ariel, I'll set thee free for this.-- [_Aside._ Young sir, a word. With hazard of yourself you do me wrong.