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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.
Mira. O good sir, I do.

Pro.
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-priz'd all popular rate, in my false brother
Awak'd 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

He was indeed the duke; out of the substitution,
And executing the outward face of royalty,
With all prerogative :-Hence his ambition
Growing, Dost thou 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 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.

Mira.

O the heavens !

Pro. Mark his condition, and the event; then tell me, If this might be a brother.

I should sin

Mira.
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
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 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 a bark ;

Bore us some leagues to sea; where they prepar'd
A rotten carcase 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.

Mira.

Was I then to you!

Pro.

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 rais'd in me

An undergoing stomach, to bear up

Against what should ensue.

Mira.

How came we ashore?

Pro. 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 lov'd my books, he furnish'd me,

From mine own library, with volumes that

I prize above my dukedom.

Mira.

But ever see that man!

Pro.

'Would I might

Now I arise:

Sit still, and hear the last of our sea-sorrow.

Here in this island we arriv'd; 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.

Mira. Heavens thank you for 't! And now, I pray you, sir, (For still 't is 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; 't is a good dulness,
And give it way;-I know thou canst not choose.

Come away, servant, come: I am ready now;
Approach, my Ariel; come.

Enter ARIEL.

[MIRANDA sleeps.

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.

Pro.

Hast thou, spirit,

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: Sometime I'd 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.

Pro.

My brave spirit! Who was so firm, so constant, that this coil Would not infect his reason?

Not a soul

Ari.
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.'

Pro.

But was not this nigh shore?
Ari.

Why, that's my spirit!

Close by, my master.

Pro. But are they, Ariel, safe?

Ari.

Not a hair perish'd;

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 myself;
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,
Bound sadly home for Naples;

Supposing that they saw the king's ship wrack'd,
And his great person perish.

Pro.

Ariel, thy charge

Exactly is perform'd; but there's more work:

What is the time o' the day?

Ari.

Pro. At least two glasses.

Past the mid season.

The time 'twixt six and now

Must by us both be spent most preciously.

Ari. Is there more toil? Since thou dost give me pains, Let me remember thee what thou hast promis'd,

Which is not yet perform'd me.

Pro.

What is 't thou canst demand?

Ari.

How now? moody?

My liberty.

Pro. Before the time be out? no more.
Ari.

I prithee

Remember, I have done thee worthy service;
Told thee no lies, made thee no mistakings, serv'd
Without or grudge, or grumblings: thou didst promise
To bate me a full year.

Pro.

Dost thou forget

No.

From what a torment I did free thee?

Ari.

Pro. Thou dost; and think'st 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.

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Pro. Thou liest, malignant thing! Hast thou forgot The foul witch Sycorax, who, with age and envy,

Was grown into a hoop? hast thou forgot her?

Ari. No, sir.
Pro.

Thou hast: Where was she born? speak; tell me. Ari. Sir, in Argier. Pro.

O, was she so? I must,

Once in a month, recount what thou hast been,
Which thou forgett'st. This damn'd witch, Sycorax,
For mischiefs manifold, and sorceries terrible

To enter human hearing, from Argier,

Thou know'st, was banish'd; for one thing she did
They would not take her life: Is not this true?

Ari. Ay, sir.

Pro. This blue-eyed hag was hither brought with child,

And here was left by the sailors: Thou, my slave,

As thou report'st thyself, wast then her servant:

And, for thou wast a spirit too delicate

To act her earthy and abhorr'd commands,

Refusing her grand hests, she did confine thee,
By help of her more potent ministers,
And in her most unmitigable rage,

Into a cloven pine; within which rift
Imprison'd, thou didst painfully remain

A dozen years, within which space she died,

And left thee there; where thou didst vent thy groans,
As fast as mill-wheels strike: Then was this island

(Save for the son that she did litter here,

A freckled whelp, hag-born) not honour'd with
A human shape.

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Pro. Dull thing, I say so; he, that Caliban,
Whom now I keep in service. Thou best know'st
What torment I did find thee in: thy groans
Did make wolves howl, and penetrate the breasts
Of ever-angry bears: it was a torment
To lay upon the damn'd, which Sycorax
Could not again undo; it was mine art,

When I arriv'd, and heard thee, that made gape
The pine, and let thee out.

Ari.
I thank thee, master.
Pro. If thou more murmur'st, I will rend an oak,
And peg thee in his knotty entrails, till
Thou hast howl'd away twelve winters.

Ari.

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Pardon, master:

Do so; and after two days

That's my noble master!

What shall I do? say what? what shall I do?
Pro. Go make thyself like a nymph o' the sea;
Be subject to no sight but thine and mine; invisible
To every eyeball else. Go, take this shape,

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