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Pro. Fifteen years since, my child, but fifteen

years,

Thy father was the Duke of Milan, and

A prince of power.

Mir. Sir, are not you my father?

Pro. Thy mother was a piece of virtue, and She said, you were my daughters; and your father Was Duke of Milan: thou, my girl, his heir, A princess, no worse issu❜d.

Mir. 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.

Mir. 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!—to him I put

The manage of my government,

And to my state grew stranger, being transported,
And rapt in secret studies. Thy false uncle-
Dost thou attend me ?

Mir. Sir, most heedfully.

Pro. Being once perfected how to grant suits, How to deny 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

not.

Mir. O, good sir, I do.

Pro. Being thus lorded,

Not only with what my revenue yielded,

But what my power might else exact,
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 :-Whereupon,
A treacherous army levy'd, one mid-night
Fated to the purpose, did Antonio open
The gates of Milan; and, i̇'the dead of darkness,
The ministers for the purpose hurry'd thence
Me, thy young sister, and thy crying self.
Mir. Alack, for pity!

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.

Mir. Wherefore did they not

- That hour destroy us?

Pro. Girl, they durst not,

So dear the love my people bore me, set

A mark so bloody on the business; but

With colours, fairer painted their foul ends.
In few, they hurry'd 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.

Mir. Alack! what trouble

Were we then to you!

Ye

Pro. O! two cherubim

were, that did preserve me; ye did smile,

Infused with a fortitude from Heaven;
Which rais'd in me

An undergoing stomach, to bear up

Against what should ensue.

Mir. How came we ashore ?

Pro. By providence divine,

Some food we had, and some fresh water, that
A noble Neapolitan, Gonzalo,

Out of his charity, (he 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 gentleness,

Knowing I lov'd my books, he furnish'd me,
From my own library, with volumes that
I prize above my dukedom.

Mir. 'Would I might

But ever see that man!

[Rises.

Pro. Mark me,-and hear the last of our sea-sor

row.

Here in this island we arriv'd; and here

Have I, your schoolmaster, made you
more profit
Than other princes can, that have more time
For vainer hours, and tutors not so careful.
Mir. Heavens thank you for't! And now,
you, sir,

(For still 'tis beating in my mind,) your reason
For raising this sea-storm?

Pro. Know thus far forth :

By accident most strange, bountiful fortune,
Now my dear lady, hath mine enemies

Brought on these seas; 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.

I

pray

[Takes up his Wand, and charms MIRANDA to Sleep.

Here cease more questions;

[MIRANDA sinks into her Seat. Thou art inclin'd to sleep; 'tis a good dulness, And give it way:-I know, thou canst not chuse.[MIRANDA sleeps.-PROSPERO puts on his Mantle. Come away, servant, come: I am ready now; Approach, my Ariel; come.

Enter ARIEL.

Ari. All hail, great master'! grave sir, hail! I come To answer thy best pleasure; be't to fly,

To swim, to dive into the sea, to ride

On the curl'd clouds; to thy strong bidding, task
Ariel, and all his quality.

Pro. Hast thou, spirit,

Prepar'd to point the Tempest that I bade thee?
Ari. To every article.

Pro. What is the time o'the day?

Ari. Past the mid season.

Pro. At least two glasses: The time 'twixt six and

now,

Must by us both be spent most preciously.

Ari. Is there more toil? Since thou dost give me pains,

Let me remember thee what thou hast promis'd,
Which is not yet perform'd me.

Pro. How now,-moody?
What is't thou canst demand ?

Ari. My liberty.

Pro. Before the time be out! no more.

Ari. I pray thee:

Remember, I have done thee worthy service;

Told thee no lies, made no mistakings, serv'd

Without or grudge, or grumblings: thou didst promise To bate me a full year.

Pro. Dost thou forget

From what a torment I did free thee?

Ari. No.

Pro. Thou dost; and think'st it much, to tread the

ooze

Of the salt deep;

To run upon the sharp wind of the north;

To do me business in the veins o'the earth,
When it is bak'd with frost.

Ari. I do not, sir.

Pro. Thou ly'st, malignant thing! Hast thou forgot

The foul witch Sycorax, who, with age, and envy, Was grown into a hoop? hast thou forgot her? Ari. No, sir.

Pro. Thou hast: Where was she born? Speak; tell me.

Ari. Sir, in Argier.

Pro. O, was she so? I must,

Once in a month, recount what thou hast been, Which thou forget'st. This damn'd witch Sy

corax,

For mischiefs manifold, and sorceries terrible
To enter human hearing, from Argier,

Thou know'st, was banish'd; for one thing she did,
They would not take her life :-Is not this true?
Ari. Ay, sir.

Pro. This blue-ey'd hag was hither brought with child,

And here was left by the sailors: Thou, my slave,
As thou report'st thyself, was then her servant:
And, for thou wast a spirit too delicate
To act her earthly, and abhorr'd commands,
Refusing her grand hests, she did confine thee,
By help of her more potent ministers,
And in her most unmitigable rage,
Into a cloven pine; within which rift
Imprison'd, thou didst painfully remain
A dozen years; within which space she died,

C

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