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 PROSPERO [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; no more! FERDINAND This is strange: your father's in some passion That works him strongly. MIRANDA Never till this day Saw I him touch'd with anger so distemper'd. PROSPERO You do look, my son, 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, Ye all which it inherit, shall dissolve And, like this insubstantial pageant faded, Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff As dreams are made on, and our little life Is rounded with a sleep. Sir, I am vex'd;Bear with my weakness; my, 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. FERDINAND MIRANDA We wish your peace.

Exeunt PROSPERO Come with a thought I thank thee, Ariel: come.

Enter ARIEL ARIEL Thy thoughts I cleave to. What's thy pleasure? PROSPERO Spirit, We must prepare to meet with Caliban. ARIEL Ay, my commander: when I presented Ceres, I thought to have told thee of it, but I fear'd Lest I might anger thee. PROSPERO Say again, where didst thou leave these varlets? ARIEL I told you, sir, they were red-hot with drinking;So fun of valour that they smote the air For breathing in their faces; beat the ground For kissing of their feet; yet always bending Towards their project. Then I beat my tabour;At which, like unback'd colts, they prick'd their ears, Advanced their eyelids, lifted up their noses As they smelt music: so I charm'd their ears That calf-like they my lowing follow'd through Tooth'd briers, sharp furzes, pricking goss and thorns, Which entered their frail shins: at last I left them I' the filthy-mantled pool beyond your cell, There dancing up to the chins, that the foul lake O'erstunk their feet. PROSPERO This was well done, my bird.

Thy shape invisible retain thou still:

The trumpery in my house, go bring it hither, For stale to catch these thieves. ARIEL I go, I go.

Exit PROSPERO A devil, a born devil, on whose nature Nurture can never stick; on whom my pains, Humanely taken, all, all lost, quite lost;And as with age his body uglier grows, So his mind cankers. I will plague them all, Even to roaring.

Re-enter ARIEL, loaden with glistering apparel, & c Come, hang them on this line.