_A room in the palace at Naples._
[_Enter_ FERDINAND _and_ MIRANDA.
FERDINAND. Admir’d Miranda, you are sad, and sad
Am I you should be sad. Then will you not
Declare what canker eats your tender rose
That I may kill ’t, or what untoward care
Weighs down your spirit, that I may kiss ’t away?
MIRANDA. O, my sweet prince, my husband Ferdinand,
In truth I am not well, and yet I am,
And yet again I am not. What say I?
It is no fever of the blood, no pain
That speaks in sharp besetment which doth ail
Me now. Not these, and yet ’tis somewhat, still,
And when I bid it down ’twill not away.
FERDINAND. O lov’d Miranda, ope thy soul to me.
MIRANDA. ’Tis silly, sooth, too simple for your ear
To heed ’t, and I unworthy of your love
To waste a single thought on it. O teach
Me to forget it utterly.
FERDINAND. O sweet,
And so I will, when I do know what is ’t
Thou would’st forget.
MIRANDA. And will you then forgive?
FERDINAND. I will, and yet I’m sure it is no fault
Needing forgiveness.
MIRANDA. You shall hear. In brief,
Since you will have the truth, I fain would see
Once more that isle where I beheld you first.
Might I behold it once again and but
For once, I then were satisfied, so you
Were by my side beholding it likewise.
FERDINAND. Would I might bear thee hence within this hour,
For that dear isle I love because of thee.
But our philosophers declare the spot
Was but enchantment rais’d by wizard spells
And sunk in ocean’s maw when Prospero,
Thy father, will’d it; never yet laid down
Good solid earth and rock on mortal map
And chart. How this may be I know not, yet
Our sailors swear that no such isle there is
And truly they should know their own realm best.
MIRANDA. I’m sure ’twas no enchantment.
FERDINAND. Save the maid
Who dwelt upon ’t, for she did cast a spell
About me when these eyes did first behold
Her there, and naught can take ’t away.
MIRANDA. Nay, now,
You jest, sweet sir.
FERDINAND. No jest, I swear to thee.
ARIEL [_sings_]
Where, O where,
Is the isle so fair?
’Tis far to the east,
’Tis far to the west;
’Tis here, ’tis there,
That isle so fair:
O where, O where?
’Tis everywhere,
That isle so fair.
MIRANDA. ’Tis Ariel’s voice, my Ferdinand, but whence--
[_sleeps._
FERDINAND [_drowsily_] The voice we heard upon the isle long since.
Sweet sound, with poppies curiously mix’d--
[_sleeps._