GON.

He'll be hang'd yet;

Though every drop of water swear against it,

And gape at wid'st to glut him.

[A confused noise within.]—Mercy on us!

We split, we split!-Farewell, my wife and children!
Farewell, brother! We split, we split, we split !—
ANT. Let's all sink with the king.

SEB. Let's take leave of him.

[Exit. [Exit.

GON. Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea for an acre of barren ground; long heath, brown furze, anything: The wills above be done! but I would fain die a dry death.

[Exit.

SCENE II.-The Island: before the Cell of Prospero.
Enter PROSPERO and MIRANDA.

MIRA. If by your art, my dearest father, you have
Put the wild waters in this roar, allay them:
The sky, it seems, would pour down stinking pitch,
But that the sea, mounting to the welkin's cheek,
Dashes the fire out. O, I have suffer'd
With those that I saw suffer! a brave vessel,
Who had no doubt some noble creature in her,
Dash'd all to pieces. O, the cry did knock
Against my very heart! Poor souls! they perish'd.
Had I been any god of power, I would

Have sunk the sea within the earth, or e'er

It should the good ship so have swallow'd, and
The fraughting souls within her.

PRO.

Be collected;

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

MIRA.
PRO.

O, woe the day!

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 am more better
Than Prospero, master of a full poor cell,
And thy no greater father.

MIRA.

More to know

Did never meddle with my thoughts.

PRO.

"T is time

I should inform thee farther. Lend thy hand,
And pluck my magic garment from me.—So;

[Lays down his mantle.
Lie there my art.-Wipe thou thine eyes; have comfort.
The direful spectacle of the wrack, which touch'd
The very virtue of compassion in thee,

I have with such provision in mine art
So safely order'd, that there is no soul-
No, not so much perdition as an hair,
Betid to any creature in the vessel

Which thou heard'st cry, which thou saw'st sink. Sit down;
For thou must now know farther.

You have often

MIRA.
Begun to tell me what I am; but stopp'd
And left me to a bootless inquisition;
Concluding, "Stay, not yet."-

PRO.

The hour 's now come;

The very minute bids thee ope thine ear;

Obey, and be attentive. Canst thou remember
A time before we came unto 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 person? Of anything the image tell me that

Hath kept with thy remembrance.

"T is far off;

MIRA.
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 see'st thou else
In the dark backward and abysm of time?

If thou remember'st aught ere thou cam'st here,
How thou cam'st here thou mayst.

MIRA.

But that I do not.

PRO. Twelve year since, Miranda, twelve year since,

Thy father was the duke of Milan, and

A prince of power.

MIRA.

Sir, are not you my father?
PRO. Thy mother was a piece of virtue, and

She said thou wast my daughter; and thy father
Was duke of Milan; and his only heir

And princess no worse issued.

MIRA.

O, the heavens!

What foul play had we, that we came from thence?
Or blessed was 't we did?

PRO.

Both, both, my girl;

By foul play, as thou say'st, were we heav'd thence; But blessedly holp hither.

MIRA.

O, my heart bleeds

To think o' the teen that I have turn'd you to,

Which is from my remembrance! Please you, farther.
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 rapt in secret studies. Thy false uncle—
Dost thou attend me?

PRO. Being once perfected how to grant suits, How to deny them; whom to advance, and whom

To trash for overtopping; new created

The creatures that were mine, I say, or chang'd them,
Or else new form'd them; having both the key

Of officer and office, set 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 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 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,
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.

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

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 boat, 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 cherubim

Thou didst smile,

Thou wast that did preserve me!

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