PROSPERO                             [aside] The Duke of Milan

And his more braver daughter could control thee

If now ’twere fit to do’t. At the first sight

They have changed eyes. [to Ariel] Delicate Ariel,

I’ll set thee free for this. [to Ferdinand] A word, good sir;

I fear you have done yourself some wrong. A word.

MIRANDA      [aside] Why speaks my father so ungently? This

Is the third man that e’er I saw, the first

That e’er I sighed for. Pity move my father

To be inclined my way. (1.2.439-448)

Oh, dramatic irony, made explicit in case we didn’t notice: Prospero is, of course, the rightful Duke of Milan and his daughter Miranda is more braver, even better, finer and better-looking, than this hypothetical and in fact non-existent brave son of Antonio, the pretended Duke. And Prospero and Miranda could control Ferdinand, tell him what’s what (including, presumably, about who’s the rightful Duke), and how to behave, if this were the right time, if now ’twere fit. But it’s not time yet, implicitly: Prospero isn’t going to identify himself as Duke to Ferdinand, which means that Miranda isn’t going to be introduced to her suitor as the heir to a dukedom, either. And, more importantly, it’s clear that Ferdinand and Miranda have instantly fallen for each other: they have changed eyes, meaning they have eyes only for each other, they keep looking at each other, love at first sight. (Lurking here: the idea of eye beams, lovers looking at each other so intensely that it’s as if they see themselves in each other’s eyes, as if they change places. ‘My face in thine eye, thine in mine appears’, as John Donne puts it, in The Good Morrow.) Again the praise for Ariel’s cleverness (but a reminder, therefore, that Prospero’s promise to liberate them is not meant to be conditional on what they do, as here, but on the passage of time. And also that they are invisible). And now Prospero starts to action a cunning plan, taking Ferdinand aside for a word, of admonition and, apparently, accusation: you have done yourself some wrong, you’re not being honest, you’re mistaken. Result! Miranda takes Ferdinand’s side, wants to protect him. She’s disarmingly honest herself: this is the third man that e’er I saw (counting Caliban, clearly, as well as her father) but the first that e’er I sighed for. A moment of awakening and wonder, love at first sight. And pity, again (Miranda’s default emotional response): let my father look kindly on this young man, take pity on him, as I do, and be nice to him, as I would be.