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And suck'd my verdure out on't. Thou attend'st

not:

I pray thee, mark me.
Mira.

O good sir, I do.

Pro. I thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicate

To closeness, and the bettering of my mind
With that, which, but by being so retir'd,
O'er-priz'd all popular rate, in my false brother,
Awak'd an evil nature and my trust,
Like a good parent, did beget of him
A falsehood, in its contrary as great
As my trust was; which had, indeed, no limit,
A confidence sans bound. He being thus lorded,
Not only with what my revenue yielded,
But what my power might else exact, -like one,
Who having, unto truth, by telling of it,
Made such a sinner of his memory,
To credit his own lie, he did believe
He was the duke; out of the substitution,
And executing the outward face of royalty,
With all prerogative :-Hence his ambition
Growing, Dost hear?,

Mira. Your tale, sir, would cure deafness.
Pro. To have no screen between this part he

play'd,

And him he play'd it for, he needs will be
Absolute Milan: me, poor man!-my library
Was dukedom large enough; of temporal royalties
He thinks me now incapable: confederates
(So dryt he was for sway) with the king of Naples,
To give him annual tribute, do him homage;
Subject his coronet to his crown, and bend
The dukedom, yet unbow'd (alas, poor Milan !),
To most ignoble stooping.

Mira.

O the heavens!

Pro. Mark his condition, and the event; then tell me,

* Without.

† Thirsty.

If this might be a brother.
Mira.

I should sin

To think but nobly of my grandmother:

Good wombs have borne bad sous.

Pro.

Now the condition.

This king of Naples, being an enemy

To me inveterate, hearkens my brother's suit;
Which was, that he in lieu* o' the premises,-
Of homage, and I know not how much tribute,-
Should presently extirpate me and mine

Out of the dukedom; and confer fair Milan,
With all the honours, on my brother: whereon,
A treacherous army levied, one midnight
Fated to the purpose, did Antonio open

The gates of Milan; and, i' the dead of darkness,
The ministers for the purpose hurried thence

Me, and thy crying self.

Mira.

Alack, for pity!

I, not rememb'ring how I cried out then,
Will cry it o'er again; it is a bintt,

That wrings mine eyes.

Pro.

Hear a little further, And then I'll bring thee to the present business Which now's upon us; without the which, this story

Were most impertinent.

Wherefore did they not

Mira.

That hour destroy us?
Pro.

Well demanded, wench;

My tale provokes that question. Dear, they durst

not;

(So dear the love my people bore me) nor set
A mark so bloody on the business; but

With colours fairer painted their foul ends.
In few, they hurried us aboard a bark;

Bore us some leagues to sea; where they prepar'd
A rotten carcase of a boat, not rigg'd,

Nor tackle, sail, nor mast; the very rats

Instinctively had quit it: there they hoist us,

* Consideration.

+ Suggestion.

To cry to the sea that roar'd to us; to sigh
To the winds, whose pity, sighing back again,

Did us but loving wrong.

Mira.

Was I then to you!
Pro.

Alack! what trouble

O! a cherubim

Thou wast, that did preserve me! Thou didst smile,

Infused with a fortitude from heaven,

When I have deck'd* the sea with drops full salt; Under my burden groan'd; which rais'd in me

An undergoing stomacht, to bear up

Against what should ensue.

Mira.

How came we ashore?

Pro. By Providence divine.

Some food we had, and some fresh water, that
A noble Neapolitan, Gonzalo,

Out of his charity (who being then appointed
Master of this design), did give us; with

Rich garments, linens, stuffs, and necessaries,

Which since have steaded much; so, of his gentle

ness,

Knowing I lov'd my books, he furnish'd me,

From my own library, with volumes that

I prize above my dukedom.

Mira.

But ever see that man!
Pro.

'Would I might

1.

Now I arise :

Sit still, and hear the last of our sea-sorrow.

Here in this island we arriv'd; and here

Have I, thy school-master, made thee more profit
Than other princes can, that have more time
For vainer hours, and tutors not so careful.

Mira. Heavens thank you for't! And now, I'

pray you, sir,

(For still 'tis beating in my mind), your reason.

For raising this sea-storm?

Pro.

Know thus far forth.

By accident most strange, bountiful fortune,

• Sprinkled.

+ Stubborn resolution.

Now my dear lady, hath mine enemies
Brought to this shore: and by my prescience
I find my zenith doth depend upon
A most auspicious star; whose influence

...

If now I court not, but omit, my fortunes
Will ever after droop. Here cease more questions;
Thou art inclin'd to sleep; 'tis a good dulness,

And give it way;-I know thou can'st not choose.[Miranda sleeps.

:

Come away, servant, come: I am ready now;
Approach, my Ariel; come.

Enter Ariel.

Ari. All hail, great master! grave sir, hail! I

come

To answer thy best pleasure; be' t to fly,

To swim, to dive into the fire, to ride

On the curl'd clouds; to thy strong bidding, task

Ariel, and all his quality.

Pro.

Hast thou, spirit,

Perform'd to point the tempest that I bade thee?
Ari. To every article.

I boarded the king's ship; now on the beak,
Now in the waist, the deck, in every cabin,
I flam'd amazement: sometimes, I'd divide,
And burn in many places; on the top-mast,
The yards, and bowsprit, would I flame distinctly;
Then meet, and join: Jove's lightnings, the pre-

cursors

O' the dreadful thunder-claps, more momentary And sight-outrunning were not: the fire, and cracks Of sulphurous roaring, the most mighty Neptune Seem'd to besiege, and make his bold waves tremble; Yea, his dread trident shake.

Pro.

Who was so firm, so constant,
Would not infect his reason?

My brave spirit! that this coilt

• The minutest article.

† Bustle, tumult.

Ari.

Not a soul

But felt a fever of the mad, and play'd
Some tricks of desperation: all, but mariners,
Plung'd in the foaming brine, and quit the vessel,
Then all a-fire with me: the king's son, Ferdinand,
With hair up staring (then like reeds, not hair),
Was the first man that leap'd; cried, Hell is empty,

And all the devils are here.

Pro.

But was not this nigh shore
Ari..

Why, that's my spirit!

Close by, my master.

Pro. But are they, Ariel, safe?

Ari.

Not a hair perish'd;

On their sustaining garments not a blemish,
But fresher than before: and, as thou bad'st me,
In troops I have dispers'd them 'bout the isle:
The king's son have I landed by himself;
Whom I left cooling of the air with sighs,
In an odd angle of the isle, and sitting,

His arms in this sad knot.

Pro.

Of the king's ship, The mariners, say, how thou hast dispos'd, And all the rest o' the fleet?

Ari.

Safely in harbour
Is the king's ship; in the deep nook, where once
'Thou call'dst me up at midnight to fetch dew
From the still-vex'd Bermoothes, there she's hid:
The mariners all under hatches stowed;
Whom, with a charm join'd to their suffer'd labour,
I have left asleep: and for the rest o' the fleet,
Which I dispers'd, they all have met again;
And are upon the Mediterranean flotet,
Bound sadly home for Naples;

Supposing that they saw the king's ship wreck'd,
And his great person perish.

Pro.

Ariel, thy charge

Exactly is perform'd; but there's more work:
What is the time o' the day?

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