Be so perfidious!-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 signories it was the first,
And Prospero the prime duke, being so reputed
In dignity, 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
And rapt in secret studies. Thy false uncle—
Dost thou attend me?

Mir.

Sir, most heedfully.

Pros. Being once perfected how to grant suits, How to deny them, who to advance and who

To trash for over-topping, new created

The creatures that were mine, I say, or changed 'cm,
Or else new form'd 'em; having both the key

Of officer and office, set all hearts i' the state

To what tune pleased 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.

Mir. O, good sir, I do.

Pros.

I pray thee, mark me.
I, thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicated
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 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

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He was indeed the duke; out o' the substitution,
And executing the outward face of royalty,

With all prerogative: hence his ambition growing-
Dost thou hear?

Mir.

Your tale, sir, would cure deafness.

Pros. 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; confederatesSo dry he was for sway-wi' 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.

Mir.
Pros.

O the heavens !

IIO

Mark his condition and the event; then tell me

If this might be a brother.

To think but nobly of my grandmother:
Good wombs have borne bad sons.

Pros.

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

I, not remembering how I cried out then,

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Will cry it o'er again: it is a hint
That wrings mine eyes to 't.

Pros.

Hear a little further

And then I'll bring thee to the present business
Which now's upon's; without the which this story
Were most impertinent.

Mir.

That hour destroy us?

Pros.

Wherefore did they not

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 bark,

Bore us some leagues to sea: where they prepared
A rotten carcass of a butt, not rigg'd,

Nor tackle, sail, nor mast; the very rats
Instinctively have 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.

Was I then to you!

Pros.

Alack, what trouble

O, a cherubin

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 burthen groan'd; which raised in me
An undergoing stomach, to bear up

Against what should ensue.

Mir.

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How came we ashore ?

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Pros. 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 gentleness,
Knowing I loved my books, he furnish'd me

From mine own library with volumes that

I prize above my dukedom.

Mir.

But ever see that man!

Pros.

Would I might

Now I arise: [Resumes his mantle.

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 princesses can, that have more time
For vainer hours, and tutors not so careful.

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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?

Pros.

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,
And give it way: I know thou canst not choose.

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[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.

Pros.

Hast thou, spirit,

Perform'd to point the tempest that I bade thee?

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Ari. To every article.

I boarded the king's ship; now on the beak,
Now in the waist, the deck, in every cabin,
I flamed amazement: sometime I'ld divide,
And burn in many places; on the topmast,
The yards and bowsprit, would I flame distinctly,
Then meet and join. Jove's lightnings, the precursors
O' the dreadful thunder-claps, more momentary
And sight-outrunning were not; the fire and cracks
Of sulphurous roaring the most mighty Neptune
Seem to besiege, and make his bold waves tremble,
Yea, his dread trident shake.

Pros.

My brave spirit!

Who was so firm, so constant, that this coil

Would not infect his reason?

But felt a fever of the mad, and play'd

Some tricks of desperation. All but mariners
Plunged in the foaming brine and quit the vessel,
Then all afire 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.'

Pros.

But was not this nigh shore?

Ari.

Why, that's my spirit!

Close by, my master.

Not a hair perish'd;

Pros. But are they, Ariel, safe?
Ari.

On their sustaining garments not a blemish,

But fresher than before: and, as thou badest me,
In troops I have dispersed 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.

Pros.

Of the king's ship

The mariners say how thou hast disposed
And all the rest o' the fleet.

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