Read it through once

ARIEL. Not a soul But felt a fever of the mad, and play’d Some tricks of desperation. All but mariners Plunged in the foaming brine and quit the vessel, Then all afire with me: the King’s son, Ferdinand, With hair up-staring—then like reeds, not hair— Was the first man that leapt; cried “Hell is empty, And all the devils are here.”