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The direful fpectacle of the wrack, which touch'd
The very virtue of compaffion in thee,
I have with fuch compaffion in mine art
So fafely order'd, that there's no foul loft;
No not fo much perdition as an hair

Betid to any creature in the veffel

Which thou heard'ft cry, which thou faw'ft fink: fit down.

For thou muft now know farther.

Mira. You have often

Begun to tell me what I am, but stopt,
And left me to the bootlefs inquifition;
Concluding, Stay, not yet.

Pro. The hour's now come,

The very minute bids thee ope thine ear,
Obey, and be attentive. Canft remember
A time before we came unto this cell?

I do not think thou canft, for then thou waft not
Full 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 in thy remembrance.

Mira. 'Tis far off;

And rather like a dream, than an affurance

That my remembrance warrants.

Had I not

Four or five women once that tended me?

Pro. Thou hadst, and more, Miranda : but how is it That this lives in thy mind? what feest thou elfe In the dark back-ward and abyfme of time? If thou remember'ft ought ere thou cam'ft here, How thou cam'ft here thou may'ft.

Mira. But that I do not.

Pro. 'Tis twelve years fince, Miranda; twelve years fince

Thy father was the Duke of Milan, and

A Prince of Pow'r.

Mira. Sir, are not you my father?

Pro. Thy mother was a piece of virtue, and She faid thou waft my daughter; and thy father

Was Duke of Milan, and his only heir

A Princefs, no worfe iffu'd.

Mira. O the heav'ns!

What foul play had we that we came from thence? Or bleffed was't we did?

Pro. Both, both, my girl:

By foul play (as thou fay'ft) were we heav'd thence, But bleffedly help'd hither.


Mira. My heart bleeds

To think o'th † teene that I have turn'd you to,
Which is from my remembrance. Please you,
Pro. My brother and thy uncle, call'd Anthonio
pray thee mark me, (that a brother fhould
Be fo perfidious!) he whom next thy felf
Of all the world I lov'd, and to him put
The manage of my ftate; as at that time
Through all the fignories it was the first,
And Profpero the prime Duke, being fo reputed
In dignity, and for the liberal arts,

Without a parallel; thofe being all my ftudy:
The government I cast upon my brother,
And to my ftate grew ftranger, being transported
And rapt in fecret ftudies. Thy falfe uncle
(Doft thou attend me?)

Mira. Sir, moft heedfully.

Pro. Being once perfected how to grant fuits, How to deny them; whom t’advance, and whom

To trafh for over-topping; new created

The creatures that were mine, I fay, or chang'd'em, Or elfe new form'd 'em, 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 fuckt my verdure out on't.

Mira. Good Sir, I do.

Pro. I pray thee mark me then.

Thou attend'ft not)

I thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicated
To clofenefs, and the bettering of my mind,
With that which, but by being fo retired,

And Princess.


teene, or grief.

O'er-priz'd all popular rate; in my falle brother
Awak'd an evil nature, and my truft,
Like a good parent, did beget of hum
A falfhood in its contrary, as great

As my truft was; which had indeed no limit,
A confidence fans bound. He being thus lorded,
Not only with what my revenue yielded,
But what my power might elfe exact, like one
Who having into truth, by telling of it,
Made fuch a-finner of his memory,

To credit his own lie, he did believe
He was indeed the Duke, from fubftitution
And executing th' outward face of royalty
With all prerogative. Hence his ambition growing-
Doft thou hear?

Mira. Your tale, Sir, would cure deafnefs.

Pro. To have no fcreen between this part he plaid, And him he plaid it for, he needs will be

Abfolute Milan. Me, poor man! my library
Was Dukedom large enough; of temporal royalties
He thinks me now incapable: confederates
(So dry he was for fway) wi' th' 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 much ignoble stooping.

Mira. O the heav'ns!

Pro. Mark his condition, and th' event,

If this might be a Brother?

Mira. I fhould fin,

To think not nobly of my grand-mother;
Good wombs have born bad fons. Y

Pro. Now the condition:

This King of Naples being an enemy

then tell me

To me inveterate, d hears my brother's fuit;
Which was, that he in lieu o'th' premises,

Of homage, and I know not how much tribute,'
Should prefently extirpate me and mine
Out of the Dukedom, and confer fair Milan

c but.

d hearkens,


With all the honours, on my brother. Whereon
A treacherous army levy'd, one mid-night
Fated to th' purpofe, did Anthonio open

The gates of Milan, and i'th' dead of darkness.
The minifter for th' purpose hurry'd thence
Me and thy crying felf.

Mira. Alack for pity!

I not remembring how I cry'd 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 prefent bufinefs Which now's upon's, without the which this ftory Were most impertinent.

Mira. Why did they not

That hour deftroy us?

Pro. Well demanded, wench;

My tale provokes that question. Dear, they durft not;
So dear the love my people bore: nor fet

A mark fo bloody on the bufinefs; but
With colours fairer painted their foul ends.
In few, they hurry'd us aboard a bark,
Bore us fome Leagues to fea, where they prepar'd
A rotten carcafs of a boat, not rigg'd,

Nor tackle, nor fail, nor maft; the very rats
Inftinctively had quit it: there they hoift us
To cry to th' fea that roar'd to us; to figh
To winds, whofe pity fighing back again
Did us but loving wrong.

Mira. Alack! what trouble

Was I then to you?

Pro. O a cherubim

Thou waft that did preferve me: Thou didst smile,
Infufed with a fortitude from heav'n;

When I have deck'd the fea with drops full falt,
Under my burthen groan'd, which rais'd in me
An undergoing ftomach, to bear up

Against what should enfue.

Mira. How came we a-fhore?


Pro. By providence divine.

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

Out of his Charity (being then appointed
Mafter of this defign) did give us, with
Rich garments, linnens, ftuffs, and neceffaries
Which fince have fteeded much. So of his gentleness,
Knowing I lov'd my books, he furnish'd me

From my own library, with volumes that
I prize above

my Dukedom.

Mira. Would I might.

But ever fee that man!

Pro. Now I arife:

Sit ftill, and hear the laft of our fea-forrow.
Here in this ifland we arriv'd, and here

Have I, thy fchool-mafter, made thee more profit
Than other Princes can, that have more time
For vainer hours, and tutors not fo careful.

Mira. Heav'ns thank you for't. And now I pray you, Sir,

(For ftill 'tis beating in my mind), your reason For raising this fea-ftorm?

Pro. Know thus far forth,

By accident moft strange, bountiful fortune
(Now my dear lady) hath mine enemies
Brought to this fhore: and by my prescience
I find my Zenith doth depend upon
A moft aufpicious ftar, whofe influence
If now I court not, but omit, my fortunes
Will ever after droop. Here ceafe more questions,
Thou art inclin'd to fleep. 'Tis a good dulnefs,
And give it way; I know thou canst not chufe,
Come away, fervant, come; I'm ready now:
Approach, my Ariel, Come.


Enter Ariel.

Ari. All hail, great mafter! grave Sir, hail! I come

To aufwer thy beft pleasure. Be't to fly;


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