Be fo perfidious!) he whom next thy felf
Of all the world I lov'd, and to him put
The manage of my state; (as at that time
Through all the fignories it was the first,
And Profpero the prime duke; being so reputed
In dignity, and for the liberal arts,
Without a parallel; thofe being all my study,
The government I caft upon my brother,
And to my state grew ftranger, being transported
And rapt in secret studies) Thy false 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 plash for over-topping; new created
The creatures that were mine; I fay, or chang'd 'em
Or else new form'd 'em; having both the key
Of officer and office, fet 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. - Thou attend'ft not.
Mira. Good fir, I do.
Pro. I pray thee, mark me then.
I thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicated
To closeness, and the bettering of my mind
With that which, but by being fo retired,
O'er-priz'd all popular rate, in my falfe brother
Awak'd an evil nature; and my trust,
Like a good parent, did beget of him
A falfhood, in its contrary as great
As my truft 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 loving an untruth, and telling't oft',
Makes fuch a finner of his memory
To credit his own lie; he did believe
He was, indeed, the duke, from substitution
And executing th' outward face of royalty
With all prerogative. Hence his ambition growing-
Doft thou hear, child?
Mira. Your tale, fir, would cure deafness.
Pro. To have no screen 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 ftooping.
Mira. O the heav'ns!
Pro. Mark the condition, and th' event, then tell me
If this might be a brother?
Mira. I fhould fin,
To think not nobly of my grand-mother.
Pro. Good wombs have born bad fons. Now the condition :
This king of Naples being an enemy
To me inveterate, hears my brother's fuit;
Which was, that he in lieu o' th' 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 levy'd, one mid-night
Fated to th' purpofe, did Anthonio open
The gates of Milan, and i' th' dead of darkness
The minifters for th' purpose hurry'd thence
Me and thy crying felf.
Mira. Alack for pity!
I not remembring how I cry'd out then,
B 2
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's, without the which this story
Were most impertinent.
Mira. Why did they not
That hour destroy us?
Pro. Well demanded, wench;
My tale provokes that question. They durft not,
So dear the love my people bore me, set
A mark fo bloody on the business; 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
Instinctively had quit it: there they hoift us
To cry to th' sea that roar'd to us; to figh
To winds, whose pity fighing back again
Did us but loving wrong.
Mira. Alack! what trouble
Thou waft that did preserve me: thou didst smile
Infused with a fortitude from heav'n;
(When I have brack'd the sea with drops full falt,
Under my burthen groan'd) which rais'd in me
An undergoing stomach, to bear up
Against what should ensue.
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
Master of this defign) did give us, with
Rich garments, linnens, stuffs, and neceffaries,
Which fince have steeded 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 see that man!
Pro. Now I arife:
Sit ftill, and hear the last of our fea-forrow.
Here in this island we arriv'd, and here
Have I, thy school-master, made thee more profit
Than other princes can, that have more time
(For ftill 'tis beating in my mind) your reason For raising this fea-ftorm?
Pro. Know thus far forth;
By accident most strange bountiful fortune
(Now my dear lady) hath mine enemies
Brought to this fhore: and by my prescience
I find zenith doth depend upon
my
A most aufpicious ftar, whose influence
If now I court not, but omit, my fortunes
For vainer hours, and tutors not fo careful.
Mira. Heav'ns thank you for't! And now I pray you, fir,
Will ever after droop. ----Here cease more questions,
Thou art inclin'd to fleep. 'Tis a good dulnefs,
And give it way; I know thou canst not chuse.
Come away, fervant, come; I'm ready now:
Approach, my Ariel; come.
SCENE III.
Enter Ariel.
Ari. All hail, great mafter! grave fir, hail! I come To answer thy beft pleasure. Be't to fly;
To fwim; to dive into the fire; to ride
On the curl'd clouds: to thy ftrong bidding task
Ariel and all his qualities.
Pro. Haft thou, fpirit,
Perform'd to point the tempeft that I bad thee?
Ari. To every article.
I boarded the king's fhip: now on the beak,
Now in the wafte, the deck, in every cabin,
I flam'd amazement. Sometimes I'd divide,
And burn in many places; on the top-maft,
The yards, and bolt-fprit, would I flame distinctly,
Then meet and join. Jove's lightnings, the precurfers
Of dreadful thunder-claps, more momentary
And fight out-running were not; the fire and cracks
Of fulphurous roaring the moft mighty Neptune
Seem'd to befiege, and make his bold waves tremble,
Yea, his dread trident shake.
Pro. That's my brave spirit!
Who was fo firm, so constant, that this coil
Would not infect his reafon ?
Ari. Not a foul
But felt a fever of the mind, and plaid
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 fon Ferdinand
With hair up-staring (then like reeds, not hair)
Was the first man that leap'd; cry'd, hell is empty,
And all the devils are here.
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