Yields us kind answer.

MIRANDA.
'Tis a villain, sir,
I do not love to look on.

PROSPERO.
But as 'tis,
We cannot miss him: he does make our fire,
Fetch in our wood; and serves in offices
That profit us.--What ho! slave! Caliban!
Thou earth, thou! Speak.

CALIBAN.
[Within] There's wood enough within.

PROSPERO.
Come forth, I say; there's other business for thee:
Come, thou tortoise! when?

[Re-enter ARIEL like a water-nymph.]

Fine apparition! My quaint Ariel,
Hark in thine ear.

ARIEL.
My lord, it shall be done.

[Exit]