The tempest : a comedy . undFor kissing of their feet; yet always bendingTowards their project. Then I beat my tabor;At which, like unbackd colts, they prickd their ears,Advanced their eyelids, lifted up their nosesAs they smelt music: so I charmd their ears,That, calf-like, they my lowing followd throughToothd briers, sharp furzes, pricking goss, and enterd their frail shins: at last I left themr the filthy-mantled pool beyond your dancing up to the chins, that the foul lakeOerstunk their feet. Prospero, This was well done, my bird. Thy shape invisible retain thou stil
The tempest : a comedy . undFor kissing of their feet; yet always bendingTowards their project. Then I beat my tabor;At which, like unbackd colts, they prickd their ears,Advanced their eyelids, lifted up their nosesAs they smelt music: so I charmd their ears,That, calf-like, they my lowing followd throughToothd briers, sharp furzes, pricking goss, and enterd their frail shins: at last I left themr the filthy-mantled pool beyond your dancing up to the chins, that the foul lakeOerstunk 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. Artel. I go, I go. [Exit. Prospero. A devil, a born devil, on whose natureNurture can never stick; on whom my pains,Humanely taken, all, all lost, quite lost;And as with age his body uglier his mind cankers. I will plague them all,Even to roaring. [Re-enter Artel, loaden with glistering apparel, etc.\ Come, hang them on this ACT FOUR THE TEMPEST SCENE ONE [Prospero and Ariel remain, Invisible.][Enter Caliban, Stephana, and Trinculo, all wet.] Caliban. Pray you, tread softly, that the blind mole may not Hear a foot fall: we now are near his Monster, your fairy, which you say is a harmless fairy, has done little better than played the Jack with Monster, I do smell all horse-piss; at which my nose is in great So is mine. Do you hear, monster? If I should take a displeasure against you, look you,—Trincula. Thou wert but a lost Good my lord, give me thy favour still. Be patient, for the prize I 11 bring thee to Shall hoodwink this mischance: therefore speak softly. Alls hushd as midnight Ay, but to lose our bottles in the pool,—Stephana. There is not only disgrace and dishonour in that, monster, but an infinite Thats more to me than my wetting: yet this is your harmless fairy,
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Keywords: ., bookauthorshakespe, bookcentury1900, bookdecade1900, bookyear1901
