(Of thee, my dear one! thee, my daughter!) who | And rapt in secret studies. Thy false uncle

Art ignorant of what thou art, nought knowing

Of whence I am; nor that I am more better

Than Prospero, master of a full poor cell,

Lie there my art.-Wipe thou thine eyes; have com ort.
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 soul -
No, not so much perdition as an hair,

Betid to any creature in the vessel

Dost thou attend me?

Mira. Sir, most heedfully.

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Pro. Being once perfected how to grant suits,

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,

Or else new form'd them: having both the key
Of officer and office, set all hearts

To what tune pleas'd his ear; that now he was
The ivy, which had hid my princely trunk,
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

Which thou heard'st cry, which thou saw'st sink. Sit Awak'd an evil nature; and my trust,

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 bids thee ope thine ear;
Obey, and be attentive! Can'st thou remember
A time before we came unto this cell?

I do not think thou can'st; 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.

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 heplay'd
And him he played 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 dry he was for sway) with the king of Naples,
To give him annual tribute, do him homage;
Subject his coronet to the 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,

Pro. Twelve years since, Miranda, twelve years since, If this might be a brother.

Thy father was the duke of Milan, and

A prince of power.

Mira. I should sin

To think but nobly of my grandmother:

Mira. Sir, are not you my father?

Good wombs have borne bad sons.

Pro. Thy mother was a piece of virtne, and

Pro. Now the condition.

She said - thou wast my daughter; and thy father

Was duke of Milan; and his only heir

This king of f Naples, being an enemy
To me inveterate, hearkens my brother's suit;

A princess; - no worse issued.

Which was, that he in lieu o' the premises,

Mira. O, the heavens!

Of homage, and I know not how much tribute, —

What foul play had we, that we came from thence? Should presently extirpate me and mine

Or blessed was't, we did?

Out of the dukedom; and confer fair Milan,

Pro. Both, both, my girl:

With all the honours, ou my brother: Whereon,

By foul play, as thou say'st, were we heav'd thence; A treacherous army levied, one midnight

Pro. My brother, and thy uncle call'd Antonio,
I pray thee, mark me, that a brother should
Be so perfidious! - he, whom next thyself
Of all the world I lov'd, 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 diguity, and, for the liberal arts,
Without a parallel; those being all my study,
The government I cast upon my brother,
And to my state grew stranger, being transported,

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

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.

Mira. Wherefore did they not

That hour destroy us?

Pro. Well demanded, wench;

My tale provokes that question. Dear, they durst not; And sight-out-running were not: The fire, and cracks

(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 carcass of a boat, not rigg'd,

Nor tackle, sail, nor mast; the very rats
Instinctively had quit it: there they hoist us,
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. Alack! what trouble

Was I then to you!

Pro. O! a cherubim

Of sulphurous roaring, the most mighty Neptune
Seem'd to besiege, and make his bold waves tremble,
Yea, his dread trident shake.

Pro. My brave spirit!

Who was so firm, so constant, that this coil

Would not infect his reason?

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.

Thou wast, that did preserve me! Thou didst smile, Pro. Why, that's my spirit!

Infused with a fortitude from heaven,

But was not this nigh shore?

When I have deck'd the sea with drops full salt;

Ari. Close by, my master.

Under my burden groan'd; which rais'd in me
An undergoing stomach, to bear up

Pro. But are they, Ariel, safe?

Ari. Not a hair perish'd;

Against what should ensue.

Mira. How came we ashore?

Pro. By Providence divine.

A noble Neapolitan, Gonzalo,

Some food we had, and some fresh water, that

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

Rich garments, linens, stutis, and necessaries,
Which since have steaded much; so, of his gentleness,
Knowing I lov'd my books, he furnish'd me,

From my own library, with volumes that

I priz'd above my dukedom.

Mira. 'Would I might

But ever see that man!

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 stow'd;

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 flote,

Mira. Heavens thank you for't! And now, I pray Supposing that they saw the king's ship wreck'd,

(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,
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.

Ari. My liberty.

Come away, servant, come: I am ready now;

Approach, my Ariel; come.

Ari. I pray thee,

Enter ARIEL.

Remember, I have done thee worthy service;

Ari. All hail, great master! grave sir, hail! I come Told thee no lies, made no mistakings, serv'd

On the curl'd clouds: to thy strong bidding task

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 precursors
O' the dreadful thunder-claps, more momentary

It much, to tread the ooze of the salt deep;
To run upon the sharp wind of the north;
To do me business in the veins o' the earth,
When it is bak'd with frost.

Hark in thine ear.

Ari. My lord, it shall be done.

Pro. Thou poisonous slave, got by the devil himself
Upon thy wicked dam, come forth!

Cal. As wicked dew as e'er my mother brush'd
With raven's feather from unwholesome fen,
Drop on you both! a south-west blow on ye,
And blister you all o'er!

Pro. For this, be sure, to-night thou shalt have

Side-stitches that shall pen thy breath up; urchins
Shall, for that vast of night that they may work,
All exercise on thee: thou shalt be pinch'd
As thick as honey-combs, each pinch more stinging
Than bees that made them.

Cal. I must eat my dinner.

This island's mine, by Sycorax my mother,
Which thou tak'st from me. When thou cam'st first,
Thou strok'dst me, and mad'st much of me; would'st

Pro. If thou more murmur'st, I will rend an oak, Thou didst prevent me; I had peopled else

Pro. Go make thyself like to a nymph o' the sea; Though thou didst learn, had that in't, which good

Pro. Come forth, I say; there's other business for Re-enter ARIEL invisible, playing and singing;

thee:

That e'er I sigh'd for: pity move my father,

Fer. O, if a virgin,

Cry, Cock-a-doodle-doo.

[Dispersedly. They have chang'd eyes:-Delicate Ariel,

I'll set thee free for this! - A word, good sir; [Dispersedly. I fear you have done yourself some wrong: A word.

Fer. Where should this music be? i' the air, or To be inclin'd my way! the earth?

ARIEL sings.

Full fathom five thy father lies;
Of his bones are coral made;
Those are pearls that were his eyes:
Nothing of him that doth fade,
But doth doth suffer a sea-change
Into something rich and strange.
Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell:

Hark! now I hear them, -ding-dong, bell.
[Burden, ding-dong.

Fer. The ditty does remember my drown'd father:-
This is no mortal business, nor no sound

That the earth owes: - I hear it now above me
Pro. The fringed curtains of thine eye advance,
And say, what thou seest yond'.

Mira. What is't? a spirit?

Lord, how it looks about! Believe me, sir,
It carries a brave form: - But 'tis a spirit.

Pro. No, wench; it eats and sleeps, and hath such

senses

As we have, such: This gallant, which thou seest,
Was in the wreck; and but he's something stain'd
With grief, that's beauty's canker, thou might'st call
him

A goodly person: he hath lost his fellows,

And strays about to find them.

Mira. I might call him

A thing divine; for nothing natural

I ever saw so noble.

Pro. It goes on,

[Aside.

As my soul prompts it:-Spirit, fine spirit! I'll free thee

Within two days for this.

Fer. Most sure, the goddess

On whom these airs attend! - Vouchsafe, my prayer

May know, if you remain upon this island;

And that you will some good instruction give,
How I may bear me here: My prime request,
Which I do last pronounce, is, O you wonder!
If you be made, or no?

Mira. No wonder, sir;

But certainly a maid.

Fer. My language! heavens!

I am the best of them that speak this speech,
Were I but where 'tis spoken.

Pro. How! the best?

What wert thou, if the king of Naples heard thee?
Fer. A single thing, as I am now, that wonders
To hear thee speak of Naples: He does hear me;
And, that he does, I weep: myself am Naples;
Who with mine eyes, ne'er since at ebb, beheld
The king my father wreck'd.

And your affection not gone forth, I'll make you
The queen of Naples.

Pro. Soft, sir; one word more..

They are both in either's powers: but this swift bu

siness

Is so possess'd with guilt: come from thy ward;
For I can here disarm thee with this stick,

And make thy weapon drop.

Mira. Beseech you, father!

Pro. Hence! hang not on my garments.

Mira. Sir, have pity;

I'll be his surety.

Pro. Silence: one word more

Shall make me chide thee, if not hate thee. What! -
An advocate for an impostor? hush!

Thou think'st, there are no more such shapes as he.
Having seen but him and Caliban: Foolish wench!

To the most of men this is a Caliban,

And they to him are angels.

Mira. My affections

Are then most humble; I have no ambition

To see a goodlier man.

Pro. Come on; obey:

Thy nerves are in their infancy again,

And have no vigour in them.

Fer. So they are:

[To Ferd.

My spirits, as in a dream, are all bound up.
My father's loss, the weakness which I feel,
The wreck of all my friends, or this man's threats
To whom I am subdued, are but light to me,
Might I but through my prison once a day
Behold this maid: all corners else o' the earth
Let liberty make use of; space enough

Have I in such a prison.

Pro. It works: - Come on.

Thou hast done well, fine Ariel! - Follow me.

Ant. The ground, indeed, is tawny.
Seb. With an eye of green in't.
Ant. He misses not much.

[To Ferd. and Mir.

Hark, what thon else shalt do me.

[To Ariel.

Seb. No; he doth but mistake the truth totally.
Gon. But the rarity of it is, (which is indeed al-

S

Mira. Be of comfort;

most beyond credit)

My father's of a better nature, sir,

Seb. As many vouch'd rarities are.

Than he appears by speech; this is unwonted,

Which now came from him.

Pro. Thou shalt be as free

As mountain winds: but then exactly do

Gon. That our garments, being, as they were, drenched in the sea, hold, notwithstanding, their freshness, and glosses; being rather new dy'd, thau stain'd with salt water.

15

Ant. If but one of his pockets could speak, would
it not say, he lies?

All points of my command.

Ari. To the syllable.

Pro. Come, follow: speak not for him. (Exeunt. Seb. Ay, or very falsely pocket up his report.

SCENE I. - Another part of the Island.

Enter ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, GONZALO,
ADRIAN, FRANCISCO, and others.

Gon. 'Beseech you, sir, be merry: you have cause
(So have we all) of joy; for our escape
Is much beyond our loss: Our hint of woe

Is common; every day, some sailor's wife,
The masters of some merchant, and the merchant,
Have just our theme of woe: but for the miracle,
I mean our preservation, few in millions

Can speak like us: then wisely, good sir, weigh
Qur sorrow with our comfort.

Gon. Methinks, our garments are now as fresh
as when we put them on first in Africk, at the mar-
riage of the king's fair daughter, Claribel, to the
king of Tunis.

Seb. 'Twas a sweet marriage, and we prosper well
in our return.

Adr. Tunis was never graced before with such a
paragon to their queen.

Gon. Not since widow Dido's time.

dow in? Widow Dido!
Ant. Widow? a pox o' that! How came that wi-

Seb. What if he had said, widower Aeneas too?
good lord, how you take it!

Seb. Look, he's winding up the watch of his wit; Ant. His word is more than the miraculous harp.

Gon. When every grief is entertain'd, that's offer'd, pocket, and give it his son for an apple.
Comes to the entertainer

Seb. He hath rais'd the wall, and houses too.

Ant. What impossible matter will he make easy next?

Seb. I think he will carry this island home in his

Ant. Fye, what a spendthrift is he of his tongue! Ant. And the rarest that e'er came there.

Ant. Which of them, he, or Adrian, for a good day I wore it? I mean, in a sort.

wager, first begins to crow?

Seb. Done: The wager?

Ant. A laughter.

Seb. A match.

Adr. Though this island seem to be desert,

Seb. Ha, ha, ha!

Ant. So, you've paid.

Adr. Uninhabitable, and almost inaccessible,

Seb. Yet

Adr. Yet

Ant. He could not miss it.

Alon. You cram these words into mine ears, against
The stomach of my sense: 'Would I had never

Married my daughter there! for, coming thence,

My son is lost; and, in my rate, she too,

Who is so far from Italy removed,

I ne'er again shall see her. O thou mine heir
Of Naples and of Milan, what strange fish

Hath made his meal on thee!

Fran. Sir, he may live;

I saw him beat the surges under him,

And ride upon their backs; he trod the water,

Adr. It must needs be of subtle, tender, and de- Whose enmity he flung aside, and breasted licate temperance.

Ant. Temperance was a delicate wench.

Seb. Ay, and a subtle;

as he most learnedly delivered.

Adr. The air breathes upon us here most sweetly.

Seb. As if it had lungs, and rotten ones.

Ant. Or, as 'twere perfumed by a fen.

Gon. Here is every thing advantageous to life.

Ant. True; save means to live.

Seb. Of that there's none, or little.

The surge most swoln that met him: his bold head
'Bove the contentious waves he kept, and oar'd
Himself with his good arms in lusty stroke

To the shore, that o'er his wave-worn basis bow'd,
As stooping to relieve him: I not doubt,
He came alive to land.

Alon. No, no, he's gone.

Seb. Sir, you may thank yourself for this great loss;
That would not bless our Europe with your daughter,

Gon. How lush and lusty the grass looks? how green? But rather lose her to an African;

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