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O, my heart bleeds
To think o' the teen' that I have turn'd you to,
Which is from my remembrance! Please you further.
Pro. My brother, and thy uncle, call'd Antonio,—
I pray thee, mark me,-that a brother should
Be so perfidious!-he whom, next thyself,
Of all the world I lov'd, and to him put
The manage of my state; as, at that time,
Through all the signiories 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 wrapt in secret studies. Thy false uncle-
Dost thou attend me?
Sir, most heedfully.
Pro. Being once perfected how to grant suits,
How to deny them; whom to advance, and whom
To trash2 for over-topping; new created
The creatures that were mine; I say, or chang'd
Or else new form'd them: 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 suck'd my verdure out on't.-Thou attend'st
I pray thee, mark me.
O good sir, I do.
Pro. I thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicate
To closeness, and the bettering of my mind
With that, which, but by being so retir'd,
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,
(2) Cut away.
A confidence sans1 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 the duke; out of the substitution,
And executing the outward face of royalty,
With all prerogative:-Hence his ambition.
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 dry2 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.
O the heavens! Pro. Mark his condition, and the event; then tell me,
If this might be a brother.
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,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
(1) Without. (2) Thirsty. (3) Consideration.
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.
Alack, for pity!
I, not rememb'ring how I cried out then,
Will cry it o'er again; it is a hint1,
That wrings mine eyes.
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.
Wherefore did they not
That hour destroy us?
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 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.
Alack! what trouble
Was I then to you!
O! a cherubim
Thou wast, that did preserve me? Thou didst smile, Infused with a fortitude from heaven,
When I have deck'd2 the sea with drops full salt;
Under my burden groan'd; which rais'd in me
An undergoing stomach3, to bear up
Against what should ensue.
(3) Stubborn resolution.
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 gentle-
Knowing I lov'd my books, he furnish'd me,
From my own library, with volumes that
I prize above my dukedom.
'Would I might
But ever see that man!
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 school-master, 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 'tis beating in my mind,) your reason For raising this sea-storm?
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; 'tis 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.
Ari. All hail, great master! grave sir, hail! I
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.
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: sometimes, I'd divide,
And burn in many places; on the top-mast,
The yards, and bowsprit, would I flame distinctly;
Then meet, and join: Jove's lightnings, the pre-
O'the dreadful thunder-claps, more momentary
And sight-outrunning were not: the fire, and cracks
Of sulphurous roaring, the most mighty Neptune
Seem'd to besiege, and make his bold waves tremble;
Yea, his dread trident shake.
My brave spirit!
Who was so firm, so constant, that this coil?
Would not infect his reason?
Not a soul
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 upstaring (then like reeds, not hair,)
Was the first man that leap'd; cried, Hell is empty,
And all the devils are here.
But was not this nigh shore?
Pro. But are they, Ariel, safe?
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 :
(1) The minutest article.
(2) Bustle, tumult.