The fraighting fouls within her.

Pro. Be collected;

No more amazement; tell your piteous heart,
There's no harm done.

Mira. O wo the day !

Pro. No harm.

I have done nothing but in care of thee,

(Of thee my dear one, thee my daughter), who
Art ignorant of what thou art, nought knowing
Of whence I am; nor that I'm more, or better
Than Profpero, master of a full-poor cell,

And thy no greater father.

Mira. More to know

Did never meddle with my thoughts.

Pro. 'Tis time,

I should inform thee farther.

And pluck my magic garment

Lend thy hand, from me: fo!

[Lays down his mantle.

Lie there, my art. Wipe thou thine eyes, have com

fort.

The direful spectacle of the wreck, which touch'd

The very virtue of compaffion in thee,

I have with fuch provifion in mine art

So tafely 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'st cry, which thou faw'st sink: fit

For thou must now know farther.

Mira. You have often

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

Pro. The hour's now come.

[down;

The very minute bids thee ope thine ear;
Obey, and be attentive. Canst thou remember
A time before we came into this cell?

I do not think, thou canst; for then thou wast not
Out three years old

Mira. Certainly, Sir, I can.

Pro. By what by any other house, or perfon?

Of any thing the image tell me, that

Hath kept in thy remembrance.

Mira. 'Tis far off;
And rather like a dream, than an assurance

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 seest thou elfe
In the dark back ward and abysme of time?
If thou remember'st aught, ere thou came here;
How thou cam'st here, thou may'st.

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 wast my daughter; and thy father

Was Duke of Milan; thou his only heir,

A princefs, no worse issu'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 say ft) were we heav'd thence;

But blessedly help'd hither.

Mira O, my heart bleeds

To think o'th' teene that I have turn'd you to, Which is from my remembrance. Please you, farther,

Pro. My brother, and thy uncle, call'd Anthonio-
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 ftate; (as, at that time,
Through all the figniories it was the first;
And Profpero the prime Duke, being so reputed.
In dignity; and for the liberal arts,

Without a parallel; thote being all my study):
The government I cast upon my brother,
And to my itate grew stranger; being transported,
And rapt in secret studies. Thy falfe uncle

(Doft thou attend me?)

Mira. Sir, most heedfully.

Pros

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

To trash for overtopping; new created

The creatures that were mine; I say, or change'd 'em,

Or else new form'd 'em; having both the key

Of officer and office, fet all hearts i'th' state

To what tune pleas'd his ear; that now he was,
The ivy, which had hid my princely trunk,
And fuck'd my verdure out on't.-Thou attend'st not.

Mira. Good Sir, 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'erpriz'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 falfehood in its contrary as great
As my trust 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 else exact; like one,
Who having, unto truth, by telling of
Made such a finner of his memory,
To credit his own lye; he did believe
He was indeed the Duke, from fubstitution,
And executing th' outward face of royalty,
With all prerogative. Hence his ambition growing-
Doft thou hear.

Mira. Your tale, Sir, would cure deafness.
Pro. To have no fcreen 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) 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 most ignoble stooping.

Mira. O the heav'ns!

Pro.

Pro. Mark his condition, and th' event; then tell me,

If this might be a brother?

Mira I should fin,

To think but nobly of my grandmother;
Good wombs have bore bad fons.

Pro. Now the condition:

This King of Naples, being an enemy
To me inveterate, hearks my brother's fuit;
Which was, that he, in lieu o'th' premiffes,
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 midnight
Fated to th' purpose, did Anthonio open
The gates of Milan; and, i' th' dead of darkness,
The minifters for the purpose hurry'd thence
Me, and thy crying felf.

Mira. Alack, for pity!

I, not rememb'ring 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 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 Dear, they durst 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 carcase of a boat, not rigg',
Nor tackle, fail, nor mast; the very rats
Instinétively had quit it: there they hoist us,
To cry to th' sea, that roar'd to us; to figh
To th' winds, whose pity, fighing back again,
Did us but loving wrong.

Mira. Alack! what trouble

Was

Was I then to you!

Pro. O! a cherubim

Thou wast, that did preferve me. Thou didst smile, Infused with a fortitude from heav'n,

(When I have mock'd the fea with drops full-falt; Under my burden gron'd); which rais'd in me

An undergoing ftomach, to bear up

Againft 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 design) did give us, with
Rich garments, linens, 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 fee that man!

Pro. Now, I arife:

Sit still, and hear the last of our fea-forrow.

Here in this island we arriv'd, and here

1

Have I, thy schoolmaster, 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 stili 'tis beating in my mind) your reafon For raising this fea-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 prefcience
I find, my zenith doth depend upon
A most aufpicious 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 fleep. 'Tis a good dulness,
And give it way; I know, thou canst not chuse-

[Miranda fleeps.