use of; space enough
    Have I in such a prison.
  PROSPERO. [Aside] It works. [To FERDINAND] Come on.-
    Thou hast done well, fine Ariel! [To FERDINAND] Follow
    me.
    [To ARIEL] Hark what thou else shalt do me.
  MIRANDA. Be of comfort;
    My father's of a better nature, sir,
    Than he appears by speech; this is unwonted
    Which now came from him.
  PROSPERO. [To ARIEL] Thou shalt be as free
    As mountain winds; but then exactly do
    All points of my command.
  ARIEL. To th' syllable.
  PROSPERO. [To FERDINAND] Come, follow. [To MIRANDA]
    Speak not for him. [Exeunt]

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ACT 2 SCENE 1

Another part of the island

[Enter ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, GONZALO, ADRIAN, FRANCISCO,
and
OTHERS]

  GONZALO. Beseech you, sir, be merry; you have cause,
    So have we all, of joy; for our escape
    Is much beyond our loss. Our hint of woe
    Is common; every day, some sailor's wife,
    The masters of some merchant, and the merchant,
    Have just our theme of woe; but for the miracle,
    I mean our preservation, few in millions
    Can speak like us. Then wisely, good sir, weigh
    Our sorrow with our comfort.
  ALONSO. Prithee, peace.
  SEBASTIAN. He receives comfort like cold porridge.
  ANTONIO. The visitor will not give him o'er so.
  SEBASTIAN. Look, he's winding up the watch of his wit; by
    and by it will strike.
  GONZALO. Sir-
  SEBASTIAN. One-Tell.
  GONZALO. When every grief is entertain'd that's offer'd,
    Comes to th' entertainer-
  SEBASTIAN. A dollar.
  GONZALO. Dolour comes to him, indeed; you have spoken
    truer than you purpos'd.
  SEBASTIAN. You have taken it wiselier than I meant you
    should.
  GONZALO. Therefore, my lord-
  ANTONIO. Fie, what a spendthrift is he of his tongue!
  ALONSO. I prithee, spare.
  GONZALO. Well, I have done; but yet-
  SEBASTIAN. He will be talking.
  ANTONIO. Which, of he or Adrian, for a good wager, first
    begins to crow?
  SEBASTIAN. The old cock.
  ANTONIO. The cock'rel.
  SEBASTIAN. Done. The wager?
  ANTONIO. A laughter.
  SEBASTIAN. A match!
  ADRIAN. Though this island seem to be desert-
  ANTONIO. Ha, ha, ha!
  SEBASTIAN. So, you're paid.
  ADRIAN. Uninhabitable, and almost inaccessible-
  SEBASTIAN. Yet-
  ADRIAN. Yet-
  ANTONIO. He could not miss't.
  ADRIAN. It must needs be of subtle, tender, and delicate
    temperance.
  ANTONIO. Temperance was a delicate wench.
  SEBASTIAN. Ay, and a subtle; as he most learnedly
    deliver'd.
  ADRIAN. The air breathes upon us here most sweetly.
  SEBASTIAN. As if it had lungs, and rotten ones.
  ANTONIO. Or, as 'twere perfum'd by a fen.
  GONZALO. Here is everything advantageous to life.
  ANTONIO. True; save means to live.
  SEBASTIAN. Of that there's none, or little.
  GONZALO. How lush and lusty the grass looks! how green!
  ANTONIO. The ground indeed is tawny.
  SEBASTIAN. With an eye of green in't.
  ANTONIO. He misses not much.
  SEBASTIAN. No; he doth but mistake the truth totally.
  GONZALO. But the rarity of it is, which is indeed almost
    beyond credit-
  SEBASTIAN. As many vouch'd rarities are.
  GONZALO. That our garments, being, as they were, drench'd
    in the sea, hold, notwithstanding, their freshness and
    glosses, being rather new-dy'd, than stain'd with salt
    water.
  ANTONIO. If but one of his pockets could speak, would it
    not say he lies?
  SEBASTIAN. Ay, or very falsely pocket up his report.
  GONZALO. Methinks our garments are now as fresh as when
    we put them on first in Afric, at the marriage of the
    King's fair daughter Claribel to the King of Tunis.
  SEBASTIAN. 'Twas a sweet marriage, and we prosper well in
    our return.
  ADRIAN. Tunis was never grac'd before with such a paragon
    to their queen.
  GONZALO. Not since widow Dido's time.
  ANTONIO. Widow! a pox o' that! How came that 'widow'
    in? Widow Dido!
  SEBASTIAN. What if he had said 'widower Aeneas' too?
    Good Lord, how you take it!
  ADRIAN. 'Widow Dido' said you? You make me study of
    that. She was of Carthage, not of Tunis.
  GONZALO. This Tunis, sir, was Carthage.
  ADRIAN. Carthage?
  GONZALO. I assure you, Carthage.
  ANTONIO. His word is more than the miraculous harp.
  SEBASTIAN. He hath rais'd the wall, and houses too.
  ANTONIO. What impossible matter will he make easy next?
  SEBASTIAN. I think he will carry this island home in his
    pocket, and give it his son for an apple.
  ANTONIO. And, sowing the kernels of it in the sea, bring
    forth more islands.
  GONZALO. Ay.
  ANTONIO. Why, in good time.
  GONZALO. Sir, we were talking that our garments seem now
    as fresh as when we were at Tunis at the marriage of
    your daughter, who is now Queen.
  ANTONIO. And the rarest that e'er came there.
  SEBASTIAN. Bate, I beseech you, widow Dido.
  ANTONIO. O, widow Dido! Ay, widow Dido.
  GONZALO. Is not, sir, my doublet as fresh as the first day I
    wore it? I mean, in a sort.
  ANTONIO. That 'sort' was well fish'd for.
  GONZALO. When I wore it at your daughter's marriage?
  ALONSO. You cram these words into mine ears against
    The stomach of my sense. Would I had never
    Married my daughter there; for, coming thence,
    My son is lost; and, in my rate, she too,
    Who is so far from Italy removed
    I ne'er again shall see her. O thou mine heir
    Of Naples and of Milan, what strange fish
    Hath made his meal on thee?
  FRANCISCO. Sir, he may live;
    I saw him beat the surges under him,
    And ride upon their backs; he trod the water,
    Whose enmity he flung aside, and breasted
    The surge most swoln that met him; his bold head
    'Bove the contentious waves he kept, and oared
    Himself with his good arms in lusty stroke
    To th' shore, that o'er his wave-worn basis bowed,
    As stooping to relieve him. I not doubt
    He came alive to land.
  ALONSO. No, no, he's gone.
  SEBASTIAN. Sir, you may thank yourself for this great loss,
    That would not bless our Europe with your daughter,
    But rather lose her to an African;
    Where she, at least, is banish'd from your eye,
    Who hath cause to wet the grief on't.
  ALONSO. Prithee, peace.