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Francisco: They all enter the circle which Prospero had made, and there stand charmed; which Prospero observing, speaks.
A solemn air, and the best comforter
Now useless, boil'd within thy skull! There stand,
Holy Gonzalo, honourable man,
Mine eyes, even sociable to the show of thine, Fall fellowly drops.-The charm dissolves apace; And as the morning steals upon the night, Melting the darkness, so their rising senses Begin to chase the ignorant fumes that mantle Their clearer reason.-O my good Gonzalo, My true preserver, and a loyal sir To him thou follow'st; I will pay thy graces Home, both in word and deed.-Most cruelly Didst thou, Alonso, use me and my daughter : Thy brother was a furtherer in the act ;Thou'rt pinch'd for't now, Sebastian.-Flesh and blood,
You brother mine, that entertain'd ambition,
I will dis-case me, and myself present,
Ariel re-enters, singing, and helps to attire
(1) Pity, or tenderness of heart. VOL. I.
Ari. Where the bee sucks, there suck I;
Pro. Why, that's my dainty Ariel ; thee;
But yet thou shalt have freedom: so, so, so.—
Ari. I drink the air before me, and return
[Exit Ariel. Gon. All torment, trouble, wonder, and amaze
Inhabits here: Some heavenly power guide us
Behold, sir king,
Whe'rl thou beest he, or no, Or some enchanted trifle to abuse me, As late I have been, I not know: thy pulse Beats, as of flesh and blood; and, since I saw thee, The affliction of my mind amends, with which, I fear, a madness held me: this must crave (An if this be at all) a most strange story. Thy dukedom I resign; and do entreat Thou pardon me my wrongs :-But how should Prospero
Be living, and be here?
First, noble friend, Let me embrace thine age; whose honour cannot Be measur'd, or confin'd.
Whether this be,
Or be not, I'll not swear.
But you, my brace of lords, were I so minded,
The devil speaks in him. [Aside.
Pro. No;For you, most wicked sir, whom to call brother Would even infect my mouth, I do forgive Thy rankest fault; all of them; and require My dukedom of thee, which, perforce, I know, Thou must restore.
Alon. If thou beest Prospero, Give us particulars of thy preservation; How thou hast met us here, who three hours since Were wreck'd upon this shore; where I have lost, How sharp the point of this remembrance is! My dear son Ferdinand.
I am wo1 for't, sir. Alon. Irreparable is the loss; and Patience Says, it is past her cure.
I rather think
You have not sought her help; of whose soft grace,
You the like loss? Pro. As great to me, as late; and, portable2 To make the dear loss, have I means much weaker
Than you may call to comfort you; for I
O heavens! that they were living both in Naples, The king and queen there! that they were, I wish Myself were mudded in that oozy bed
Where my son lies. When did you lose your daughter?
Pro. In this last tempest. I perceive, these lords At this encounter do so much admire, That they devour their reason; and scarce think Their eyes do offices of truth, their words Are natural breath; but, howsoe'er you have Been justled from your senses, know for certain, That I am Prospero, and that very duke Which was thrust forth of Milan; who most strangely Upon this shore, where you were wreck'd, was landed,
To be the lord on't. No more yet of this;
The entrance of the cell opens, and discovers Ferdinand and Miranda playing at chess.
Mira. Sweet lord, you play me false.
I would not for the world.
Mira. Yes, for a score of kingdoms you should
And I would call it fair play.
A vision of the island, one dear son
If this prove
Shall I twice lose.
Seb. A most high miracle!
Fer. Though the seas threaten, they are merciful; I have curs'd them without cause.
[Ferd. kneels to Alon. Now all the blessings
Of a glad father compass thee about!
O! wonder! How many goodly creatures are there here! How beauteous mankind is! O brave new world, That has such people in't!
'Tis new to thee. Alon. What is this maid, with whom thou wast at play?
Your eld'st acquaintance cannot be three hours:
Fer. Sir, she's mortal; But, by immortal Providence, she's mine; I chose her, when I could not ask my father For his advice; nor thought I had one: she Is daughter to this famous duke of Milan, Of whom so often I have heard renown, But never saw before; of whom I have Receiv'd a second life, and second father This lady makes him to me.
I am hers: But O, how oddly will it sound, that I Must ask my child forgiveness!
Let us not burden our remembrances
There, sir, stop:
I have inly wept, Or should have spoke ere this. Look down, you gods, And on this couple drop a blessed crown; For it is you, that have chalk'd forth the way Which brought us hither!
Alon. I say, Amen, Gonzalo ! Gon. Was Milan thrust from Milan, this issue