Boatswain: "What do you here? Shall we give o'er and drown?"

"Hang, you whoreson, insolent noisemaker! We are less afraid to be drowned than thou."

"The king and prince at prayers! Let's assist them, for our case is as theirs."

Elsewhere, some small distance from the ship.

"Oh, what a storm!
– A work of potent magic; this has never
seemed to me a foreign thing, unknown.
My mother drew on sorcery as breath,
both fair and foul. Some of it, she taught
to me, her only child; and though she kept,
as well, a host of secrets, some of these
I found I could unravel, given time.
So now, though all my powers be no match
for he who holds me fettered to his will,
I know my world. These things are home and cradle:
the eager wind, the sweeping rain. I dance –
with them, and with my partner. Round and round
we whirl. Within the storm we move as one,
and all else in my mind is drowned by joy!"

"No sorcery for me, no human spells.
A spirit of the air am I. I weave
my self into the tempest; we are one.
The churning clouds, the patient lightning: these
are harnessed to my aims. The power builds
and builds and builds within the clouds – then bursts,
and flashes out as lashing levin, fierce,
yet under my control. I guide it well.
It meets the sea-froth, very near the ship,
but far enough; I do not strike to kill.
The thunder follows, sure as night does day.
With care, I work together with my partner
to drive the ship to shore – it’s nearly there.
The glory of the storm begins to fade."

"We are merely cheated of our lives by drunks. Would thou swallow the waves like your foul grog!"

"Now would I give a thousand leagues of sea
For an an acre of barren ground, long heath,
brown furze, any thing. The wills above be done!
But I would fain die a dry death."

"And so. They are afeared, and no surprise;
in time, they’ll learn that all are safe – but what?
Another ship is near? This one was not
among the fleet; I see it now, at least."

"Well, and we shall turn its bow away,
with all on board –

"– except, I do remark,
for those who spilled, just now, into the sea.
For them we must account."

"...Ah. So we must.

"There’s nothing for it; I will bring them in
to land, as all the rest. Our grudging guests
shall soon be scattered all along the shoreline;
and we will see, then, how the plot plays out."

SCENE 2. The island

"Our ship storm-split, yet here on sand stand I,
Preserved by providence alone, preserved?
Yet what remains to me, prince of a waste,
My father and his lords five fathoms deep?

Not yet returned from losing my sister.
But she yet lives, now queen of fair Tunis.
What will she think, her family lost at sea?
Doubly alone, a parting redoubled. 

Sebastian, uncle, rests with the king.
All others will presume I share their fate.
Naples' throne will not stay vacant long.
Stripped of father, sister, uncle, birthright -
What good to me would any rescue be?"

Miranda steps hesitantly from behind the foliage.

"Is that a stranger's voice? – Oh. It is.
I beg your pardon, sir. I only – um.
...I greet you; that, at least, I ought to say."

"My language! Heavens, here on distant shore.
A gift so sweet needs no apology.
I greet you too, fair maiden, and implore:
Were you the one to hear my storm-wracked plea?
Be you maiden, spirit, or something more?"

"A maiden, sir. And you, you are a man?
– I'm sure my wonder must seem foolish, only,
I know none but my father... and, I fear,
it's he who had you brought to us so roughly,
which merits true apologies indeed.

...Though I myself had naught to do with it."

"Are the only souls here the pair of you?
Were you stranded by shipwreck here like me?

Aside: She thinks her father mighty; all girls do.
But if he be, why can't he sail free?

To live here, is there rain or spring or dew?
For I must beg your hospitality."

"Oh, yes, indeed we're very near to home;
my father – well, toward you he bears no grudge...

...He'll welcome you, most likely, and if not
you'll be no worse for asking."

She turns and beckons him to follow.

"As for us,
the tale of how we came here is a long one,
and I knew little of it, till at last
my father told me, just today. But no,
we're not alone here; since we first were cast

upon these shores, I've grown among companions:
spirits I have known and, most of all,
Alariel and Caliban my friends.
– And you, sir, might I learn what you are called?"

"My name is Ferdinand; may I ask yours?
That I may better thank you for your aid.

Aside: Spirits for friends? To find such strange new shores!
I've no choice but to trust this queer fair maid.
As sailor clings to flotsam in the roil.

He follows. Pray, lead on, that I may tread your home soil."

"Oh! I'm Mimi."

Enter Prospero.

"Father. I have found
this stranger to our shores; we come to you
in hopes you'll make him welcome."

"Is it so?
You there, sir, what do you here? Speak true."

"I come a stranger, uninvited, for
My landing was not of my own design. 
Storm struck my ship and only I remain.
What do I here? I know not. Mourn the lost?"

Almost speaks, catches herself; casts a troubled glance at Prospero.

"It may be that the others yet survive.
By some strange art, are you not still alive?"

"You say this meeting's no design of yours?
A likely claim; I say it is a lie.
No doubt you’ve come on purpose to my home
to work against me, snake-like, as a spy.
Can you deny it, daughter?"

"Oh, I can;
he seems to me to be an honest man."

"None would dare accuse me in my homeland,
For I am prince - king, perhaps - of Naples.
What need has Naples for your humble home?"