resist such entertainment, till I see a more powerful enemy,'
and drew his sword; but Prospero, waving his magic wand, fixed him to
the spot where he stood, so that he had no power to move.

Miranda hung upon her father, saying: 'Why are you so ungentle? Have
pity, sir; I will be his surety. This is the second man I ever saw, and
to me he seems a true one.'

'Silence,' said the father: 'one word more will make me chide you,
girl! What! an advocate for an impostor! You think there are no more
such fine men, having seen only him and Caliban. I tell you, foolish
girl, most men as far excel this, as he does Caliban.' This he said to
prove his daughter's constancy; and she replied: 'My affections are
most humble. I have no wish to see a goodlier man.'

'Come on, young man,' said Prospero to the prince; 'you have no power
to disobey me.'

'I have not indeed,' answered Ferdinand; and not knowing that it was by
magic he was deprived of all power of resistance, he was astonished to
kind himself so strangely compelled to follow Prospero: looking back on
Miranda as long as he could see her, he said, as he went after Prospero
into the cave: 'My spirits are all bound up as if I were in a dream;
but this man's threats, and the weakness which I feel, would seem light
to me if from my prison I might once a day behold this fair maid.'

Prospero kept Ferdinand not long confined within the cell: he soon
brought out his prisoner, and set him a severe task to perform, taking
care to let his daughter know the hard labour he had imposed on him,
and then pretending to go into his study, he secretly watched them both.

Prospero had commanded Ferdinand to pile up some heavy logs of wood.
Kings' sons not being much used to laborious work, Miranda soon after
found her lover almost dying with fatigue. 'Alas!' said she, 'do not
work so hard; my father is at his studies, he is safe for these three
hours; pray rest yourself.'

'O my dear lady,' said Ferdinand, 'I dare not. I must finish my task
before I take my rest.'

'If you will sit down,' said Miranda, 'I will carry your logs the
while.' But this Ferdinand would by no means agree to. Instead of a
help Miranda became a hindrance, for they began a long conversation, so
that the business of log-carrying went on very slowly.

Prospero, who had enjoined Ferdinand this task merely as a trial of his
love, was not at his books, as his daughter supposed, but was standing
by them invisible, to ov