I have done nothing but in care of thee,
(Of thee, my dear one! thee, my daughter!) who
Art ignorant of what thou art, nought knowing
Of whence I am; nor that I am more better
Than Prospero, master of a tuil poor cell,
And thy no greater father.

Mira.

More to know

Did never meddle with my thoughts Pro.

Sir, most heedfully Pro. Being once perfected how to grant smits, How to deny them; whom to advance, and whom To trash for over-topping; new created

The creatures that were mine; I say, or chang’d them,

Lie there my art.-Wipe thou thine eyes; have comfort.

The direful spectacle of the wreck, which touch'd
The very virtue of compassion in thee,
I have with such provision in mine art
So safely order'd, that there is no sonl
No, not so much perdition as an hair,
Betid to any creature in the vessel

I

Mira. O, good sir, I do.

Pro.

Sit down;

For thou must now know further.
Mira
You have often
Begun to tell me what I am; but stopp'd
And left me to a bootless inquisition;
Concluding, Stay, not yet.
Pro.
The hour's now come;
The very minute birls thee ope thine ear;
Obey, and be attentive.. Canst thou remember
A time before we came unto this cell?

I do not think thou canst; for then thou wast not
Out three years old.

Mira.
Certainly, sir, I can.
Pro. By what? by any other house, or person?
Of any thing the image tell me, that
Hath kept with thy remembrance.
Mira.
'Tis far off;
And rather like a dream than an assurance)
That my remembrance warrants: Had I not
Four or five women once, that tended me?
Pro. Thou had'st, and more, Miranda: But
how is it,

That this lives in thy mind? What seest thou else
In the dark backward and abysm of time? -
If thou remember'st aught, ere thou cam'st here,
How thou cam'st here, thou may'st..
Mira.
But that I do not
Pro. Twelve years since, Mirauda, twelve
years since,

Thy father was the duke of Milan, and
A prince of power.

Mira. Sir, are not you my father?
Pro. Thy mother was a piece of virtne, and
She said-thou wast my daughter; and thy father
Was duke of Milan; and his only heir
A princess;-no worse issued.
Mira.
O, the heavens!
What foul play had we, that we came from
thence 7

Or blessed was 't, we did?
Pro.

Both, both, my girl: By foul play, as thou say'st, were we heaved thence:

But blessedly holp hither.

Mim.

O, my heart bleeds To think o' the teen that I have turn'd your to, Which is from my remembrance! Please you, further.

Pro. My brother,and thy uncle,call'd Antonio I pray thee, mark me, that a brother should Be so perfidions he whom, next thyself, Of all the world I loved, and to him put 'The manage of my state; as, at that time, Through all the signiories it was the first, And Prospero the prime duke; being so reputed In dignity, and, for the liberal arts, Without a parallei; those being all my study, The government I cast upon my brother, And to my state grew stranger, being transported, And rapt in secret studies Thy false uncle

As my trust was; which had, indeed, no limit,
A confidence sans bound. He being thus lorded,
Not only with what my revenne 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 indeed the dike; 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 roy-
alties

He thinks me now incapable: confederates
(So dry 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,

If this might be a brother
Mira.

I should sin

To think but nobly of my grandmother:
Good wombs have borne bad sons.
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 of 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 hint
That wrings mine eyes to 't.
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. Mira.

That hour destroy us? Pro.

Wherefore did they not

Well demanded, wench: My tale provokes that question. Dear, they

darst not;

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