“But this rough magic I here abjure,” Elmo soliloquized in Ariel’s absence, “and when I have required some heavenly music to work mine end upon their senses that this airy charm is for, even in today’s mounting clouds and temperatures nigh upon 30, I’ll break my staff, bury it certain fathoms in the earth, and deeper than did ever plummet sound, I’ll bury my book!
“A solemn air, and the best comforter to an unsettled fancy will be tomorrow, with haze upon the sky and freezing rain flung with tempestuous fury from the chilled hands of winds most southerly.”
At that did Ariel return.