_Ariel._ When I was chidden by my mighty lord, For my neglect of young Hippolito, I went to view his body, and soon found His soul was but retired, not sallied out: Then I collected The best of simples underneath the moon, The best of balms, and to the wound applied The healing juice of vulnerary herbs. His only danger was his loss of blood, But now he's waked, my lord, and just this hour He must be dressed again, as I have done it. Anoint the sword which pierced him with this weapon-salve, and wrap it close from air, till I have time to visit him again. _Prosp._ Thou art my faithful servant; It shall be done: be it your task, Miranda, Because your sister is not present here; While I go visit your dear Ferdinand, From whom I will a while conceal the news, That it may be more welcome. _Mir._ I obey you, And with a double duty, sir: For now, You twice have given me life. _Prosp._ My Ariel, follow me. [_Exeunt severally._ SCENE II. HIPPOLITO _discovered on a couch_, DORINDA _by him_. _Dor._ How do you find yourself? _Hip._ I'm somewhat cold; Can you not draw me nearer to the sun? I am too weak to walk. _Dor._ My love, I'll try. [_She draws the chair nearer to the audience._ I thought you never would have walked again; They told me you were gone to heaven; Have you been there? _Hip._ I know not where I was. _Dor._ I will not leave you, till you promise me, You will not die again. _Hip._ Indeed, I will not. _Dor._ You must not go to heaven, unless we go Together; for I have heard my father say, That we must strive to be each other's guide, The way to it will else be difficult, Especially to those who are so young; But I much wonder what it is to die. _Hip._ Sure 'tis to dream, a kind of breathless sleep, When once the soul's gone out. _Dor._ What is the soul? _Hip._ A small blue thing, that runs about within us. _Dor._ Then I have seen it in a frosty morning, Run smoaking from my mouth. _Hip._ But, dear Dorinda, What is become of him who fought with me? _Dor._ O! I can tell you joyful news of him; My father means to make him die to-day, For what he did to you. _Hip._ That must not be, My dear Dorinda; go, and beg your father, He may not die; it was my fault he hurt me, I urged him to it first. _Dor._ But if he live, he'll never leave killing you. _Hip._ O no! I just remember when I fell asleep, I heard him calling me a great way off, And crying over me as you would do; Besides, we have no cause of quarrel now. _Dor._ Pray, how began your difference first? _Hip._ I fought with him, for all the women in the world. _Dor._ That hurt you had, was justly sent from heaven, For wishing to have any more but me.