To closeness, and the bettering of my mind
With that, which, but by being so retired,
O'er-prized all popular rate, in my false brother
Awaked 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 1 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 indeed the duke; out of the substitution,2
And executing the outward face of royalty,

With all prerogative:-Hence his ambition
Growing, Dost hear?

Mir.

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 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.

Without.

From being the substitute.

Mir.

O the heavens !

Pro. Mark his condition, and the event; then

tell me,

If this might be a brother.

Mir.

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 o' the premises,2—
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 honors, on my brother: Whereon,
A treacherous army levied, one midnight
Fated to the purpose, did Antonio open

The gates of Milan; and, i̇' the dead of darkness,
The ministers for the purpose hurried thence
Me, and thy crying self.

Mir.

Alack, for pity!

I, not remembering how I cried out then, cry it o'er again; it is a hint 3

Will

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

Otherwise than.

2 In consideration of the foregoing.

3 Suggestion.

4 Squeezes the water out of them.

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 colors fairer painted their foul ends.
In few,1 they hurried us aboard a bark;
Bore us some leagues to sea, where they prepared
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.

Mir.

Alack! what trouble

O! a cherubim

Was I then to you!

Pro.

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 raised in me

An undergoing stomach,3 to bear up

Against what should ensue.

Mir.

How came we ashore?

Pro. By Providence divine.

In short. 2 Covered. 3 A stubborn resciution.

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 loved my books, he furnish'd me,
From my own library, with volumes that

I prize above my dukedom.

Mir.

'Would I might

Now I arise:

But ever see that man!

Pro.

Sit still, and hear the last of our sea-sorrow.
Here in this island we arrived; and here
Have I, thy schoolmaster, made thee more profit
Than other princes can, that have more time
For vainer hours, and tutors not so careful.
Mir. 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,
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 inclined to sleep; 'tis a good dulness,