from the King’s ship were wandering in another part of the island. Among them were Alonso, King of Naples, and his brother Sebastian; Antonio, the usurping Duke of Milan; Gonzalo, an honest old counsellor of the King of Naples, with Adrian and Francisco, two of his lords.
Exhausted with the labour they had undergone, the whole party, with the exception of Sebastian and Antonio, presently fell asleep. Antonio, not content with having driven his own brother from the dukedom of Milan, now began to suggest treachery to Sebastian, the brother of the King of Naples. Ferdinand, the son of the King of Naples, he said, must certainly have been drowned, his only daughter, Claribel, was married, and far away in Africa – in fact, they were at this moment on their way home from her wedding festivities – there was therefore no near heir to the throne of Naples. Antonio suggested that Sebastian should seize the kingdom of Naples, as he himself had usurped that of Milan. He pointed out how easy it would be to slay King Alonso as he lay there asleep; in fact, he offered to do the deed himself, while Sebastian at the same moment was to put an end to the faithful Gonzalo. The other lords would offer no resistance, but would willingly agree to any suggestions made to them.
Sebastian was only too ready to fall in with this wicked scheme, but in the meanwhile, invisible to them, Ariel came near, and at the very moment when the traitors had drawn their swords and were about to kill Alonso and Gonzalo he sang in the ear of the latter and awakened him.
“Good angels save the King!” cried Gonzalo; and Alonso started awake at the shout.
“Why! how now? Ho, awake!” cried the King. “Why are your swords drawn? Why do you look so ghastly?”
“What’s the matter?” added Gonzalo, still dazed with sleep.
“While we stood here guarding your repose just now,” said Sebastian, with a ready lie, “we heard a hollow burst of bellowing like bulls, or, rather, lions. Did it not wake you? It struck my ear most terribly.”
“I heard nothing,” said the King.
“Oh, it was din enough to frighten a monster – to make an earthquake!” said Antonio. “Surely it was the roar of a whole herd of lions.”
“Did you hear this, Gonzalo?” asked the King.
“Upon mine honour, sir, I heard a humming, and that a strange one, too, which wakened me. I shook you, sir, and cried out. As my eyes opened I saw their weapons. There certainly was a noise. We had better stand on guard, or leave this place. Let us draw our weapons.”
“Lead away from here,” commanded the King. “Let us make further search for my poor son.”
“Heaven keep him from these beasts!” said Gonzalo. “For he is surely in the island.”
“Lead away,” repeated Alonso.
“Prospero shall know what I have done,” said Ariel, as Alonso and his companions started again on their wanderings. “Go, King – go safely on to seek thy son.”
The King’s Son
Prospero, in order to carry out his plans, pretended to be very harsh and severe with the young Prince of Naples, and he set him a heavy task – to remove and pile up some thousands of logs. For the sake of the love he already bore to Miranda, Ferdinand obeyed patiently, and it sweetened and refreshed his labour to see how distressed the gentle maiden was at the sight of his toil.
“Alas! I pray you, do not work so hard,” entreated Miranda, as she met him bearing a log. “I would the lightning had burnt up all these logs! Pray set that down and rest you. My father is hard at study: pray, now, rest yourself; he is safe for the next three hours.”
“Oh, most dear lady!” said Ferdinand, “the sun will set before I can finish what I must strive to do.”
“If you will sit down,” said Miranda, “I will carry your logs the while. Pray give me that; I will carry it to the pile.”
“No, dear lady, I had rather crack my sinews, break my back, than that you should undergo such dishonour while I sit lazy by.”
“It would become me as well as it does you,” said Miranda, “and I would do it the more easily, because I want to do it and you do not. You look weary.”
“No, noble lady; when you are near me the night becomes fresh morning,” said Ferdinand. “I do beseech you – chiefly that I may set it in my prayers – what is your name?”
“Miranda.”
“Admired Miranda! Dearest name in the world!” cried Ferdinand. “Many gentle ladies I have been pleased to see and to talk with, and I have liked different women for different virtues; but never until now have I found one without some defect. But you – oh, you, so perfect and so peerless! – are created the best of every creature!”
“I do not know any other woman,” said Miranda simply. “I remember no woman’s face save, from my glass, mine own. Nor have I seen others that I may call men, except you, good friend, and my dear father. I do not know what they may be like, but, in simple truth, I would not wish any companion in the world but you, nor can I imagine anyone whose look I would like better. But I prattle too wildly, and in that forget my father’s precepts.”
“In rank I am a Prince, Miranda,” said Ferdinand, “I think a King: would it were not so!” For he thought his father had perished with the ship. “I would not for one moment endure this slavery if it were not for you. The very instant I saw you my heart flew to your service, and for your sake I carry these logs patiently.”
“Do you love me?”
“By heaven and earth, I love, prize, and honour you beyond all limit of everything else in the world!”
Miranda’s eyes filled with tears of joy.
“I am foolish to weep for what I am glad of,” she whispered.
“Why do you weep?” said Ferdinand.
“Because I am unworthy to offer the love I desire to give,” said Miranda, “much less to take what I shall die for if I do not have. I am your wife if you will marry me; if not, I’ll die a maid. You may refuse to have me as your companion, but I’ll be your servant, whether you will or no.”
“My Queen, dearest, and I thus humble ever,” said Ferdinand, kneeling before her.
“My husband, then?”
“Ay, with a heart as willing as freedom after bondage: here’s my hand.”
“And mine, with my heart in it. And now, till half an hour hence, farewell!”
“A thousand thousand!” cried Ferdinand; and so they parted.
Unseen by the young lovers, Prospero, in his cell, had listened to all that passed, and his rejoicing was scarcely less than theirs to find that his schemes were working so well. But he had still much to do before supper-time, and he now returned to his books.
Mysterious Music
While Antonio and Sebastian were discussing their scheme to murder the King of Naples, another band of wretched creatures was plotting mischief against the lord of the island. When Prospero had first come to this island, he found it inhabited by a hideous young monster called Caliban, the son of a wicked witch who had been banished there from her own country. This witch – Sycorax – had for servant the dainty sprite Ariel, and because Ariel refused to obey her evil commands she imprisoned him as a punishment in the trunk of a cloven pine-tree. Here Ariel abode in torment and misery for twelve years, during which time Sycorax died, and left her son Caliban as the only inhabitant of the island.
Prospero, on his arrival, set Ariel free, and took him into his own service, and, pitying the young Caliban, he at first tried by kindness to tame his savage nature. But all his efforts were useless. Caliban hated everything good, and repaid Prospero’s kindness with malice and evil doing. Prospero found that gentle means were of no avail, and that the only way in which to keep Caliban in order was to treat him with stern severity. For this Caliban hated his master, and was always longing to be revenged on him.
Among those saved from