{"id":"01KG8AZX7VXW3W2FDEGEVVA9XA","cid":"bafkreialvwipdv4uldkvkgfwmgxjck7xeyvc6cpva6df5cbqy5qpv4dry4","type":"file","properties":{"cid":"bafkreibagkekpp7adrdn5xsrdojtwdrsmqmwbtjqqbscsraq5ttggnweaa","content_type":"image/jpeg","filename":"01_tempest_1901_illustrated_bell_page_0109.jpg","height":2400,"key":"pdf-page-1769806492462-k6to69ra7oj","label":"01_tempest_1901_illustrated_bell_page_0109.jpg","page_number":109,"pdf_type":"born_digital","size":467006,"text":"ACT FIVE THE TEMPEST SCENE ONE\nWhen first I raised the tempest. Say, my spirit,\nHow fares the king and 's followers?\nArtel. Confined together\nIn the same fashion as you gave in charge,\nJust as you left them ; all prisoners, sir,\nIn the line-grove which weather-fends your cell ;\nThey cannot budge till your release. The king.\nHis brother, and yours, abide all three distracted.\nAnd the remainder mourning over them,\nBrimful of sorrow and dismay ; but chiefly\nHim that you term'd, sir, 'The good old lord, Gonzalo';\nHis tears run down his beard, like v/inter's drops\nFrom eaves of reeds. Your charm so strongly works 'em,\nThat if you now beheld them, your affections\nWould become tender.\nProspero. Dost thou think so, spirit?\nAriel. Mine would, sir, were I human.\nProspero. And mine shall.\nHast thou, which art but air, a touch, a feeling\nOf their afflictions, and shall not myself,\nOne of their kind, that relish all as sharply.\nPassion as they, be kindlier moved than thou art?\nThough with their high wrongs I am struck to the quick.\nYet with my nobler reason 'gainst my fury\nDo I take part: the rarer action is\nIn virtue than in vengeance: they being penitent,\nThe sole drift of my purpose doth extend\nNot a frown further. Go release them, Ariel :\nMy charms I'll break, their senses I'll restore,\nAnd they shall be themselves.\nArtel. I'll fetch them, sir. [Exit.\nProspero. Ye elves of hills, brooks, standing lakes, and\ngroves ;\nAnd ye that on the sands with printless foot\nDo chase the ebbing Neptune, and do fly him\nWhen he comes back; you demi-puppets that\nBy moonshine do the green sour ringlets make.\nWhereof the ewe not bites ; and you whose pastime\nIs to make midnight mushrooms, that rejoice\nTo hear the solemn curfew; by whose aid —\nWeak masters though ye be— I have bedimm'd\n93","text_extracted_at":"2026-01-30T20:54:52.462Z","text_extracted_by":"pdf-processor","text_has_content":true,"text_source":"born_digital","uploaded":true,"width":1601},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KG89K56V71HSK5HCYTVQK4G2","predicate":"derived_from"},{"peer":"01KG89JREDR8WY5QQGYR5FZRDY","peer_type":"collection","predicate":"collection"},{"peer":"01KG8AZX5NT7JV326CRJ764NZ7","predicate":"prev"},{"peer":"01KG8AZX3D5VTAB0ZFSAS7920M","predicate":"next"}],"ver":3,"created_at":"2026-01-30T20:54:52.923Z","ts":"2026-01-30T21:03:33.026Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFFH6ETXGRVD10WPNP3007D6"}}