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Weeping again the king my father's wrack,

This music crept by me upon the waters,

Allaying both their fury, and my passion,

With its sweet air: thence I have follow'd it,—

Or it hath drawn me rather,—but 'tis gone.

No, it begins again.

Ari. Song.

'Full fathom five thy father lies;

Of his bones are coral made:

Those are pearls that were his eyes:

Nothing of him that doth fade,

But doth suffer a sea-change

Into something rich and strange.

Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell:'

Burthen: 'Ding-dong!'

'Hark! now I hear them,—Ding-dong, bell.'

Fer. The ditty does remember my drown'd father.

This is no mortal business, nor no sound

That the earth owes:—I hear it now above me.

Pro. The fringed curtains of thine eye advance,

And say what thou seest yond.

Mira. What is 't? a spirit?

Lord, how it looks about! Believe me, sir,

It carries a brave form:—but 'tis a spirit.

Pro. No, wench; it eats and sleeps, and hath such senses

As we have, such; this gallant which thou see'st,

Was in the wrack; and, but he's something stain'd

With grief,—that's beauty's canker,—thou might'st call him

 390 passion: suffering

402 remember: commemorate

404 owes: owns

405 advance: lift

412 canker: worm that feeds on flowers

