William Shakespeare: The Tempest

ACT 3 3. SCENE III. Another part of the island (continued)

ARIEL.
You are three men of sin, whom Destiny,
That hath to instrument this lower world
And what is in't,--the never-surfeited sea
Hath caused to belch up you; and on this island
Where man doth not inhabit; you 'mongst men
Being most unfit to live. I have made you mad:

[Seeing ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, &c., draw their swords]

And even with such-like valour men hang and drown
Their proper selves. You fools! I and my fellows
Are ministers of fate: the elements
Of whom your swords are temper'd may as well
Wound the loud winds, or with bemock'd-at stabs
Kill the still-closing waters, as diminish
One dowle that's in my plume; my fellow-ministers
Are like invulnerable. If you could hurt,
Your swords are now too massy for your strengths,
And will not be uplifted. But, remember--
For that's my business to you,--that you three
From Milan did supplant good Prospero;
Expos'd unto the sea, which hath requit it,
Him, and his innocent child: for which foul deed
The powers, delaying, not forgetting, have
Incens'd the seas and shores, yea, all the creatures,
Against your peace. Thee of thy son, Alonso,
They have bereft; and do pronounce, by me
Lingering perdition,--worse than any death
Can be at once,--shall step by step attend
You and your ways; whose wraths to guard you from--
Which here, in this most desolate isle, else falls
Upon your heads,--is nothing but heart-sorrow,
And a clear life ensuing.

[He vanishes in thunder: then, to soft music, enter
the Shapes again, and dance, with mocks and mows,
and carry out the table]

PROSPERO.
[Aside] Bravely the figure of this harpy hast thou
Perform'd, my Ariel; a grace it had, devouring;
Of my instruction hast thou nothing bated
In what thou hadst to say: so, with good life
And observation strange, my meaner ministers
Their several kinds have done. My high charms work,
And these mine enemies are all knit up
In their distractions; they now are in my power;
And in these fits I leave them, while I visit
Young Ferdinand,--whom they suppose is drown'd,--
And his and mine lov'd darling.

[Exit above]

GONZALO.
I' the name of something holy, sir, why stand you
In this strange stare?