If this might be a brother.

Mira.

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
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 bintt,

That wrings mine eyes.

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

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,

• Consideration.

† Suggestion.

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 wast, that did preserve me! Thou didst smile,

Infused with a fortitude from heaven,

When I have deck'd* the sea with drops full salt; Under my burden groan'd; which rais'd in me

An undergoing stomacht, to bear up

Against what should ensue.

Mira.

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 (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

ness,

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

I prize above my dukedom.

Mira.

But ever see that man!

Pro.

'Would I might

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 cau, 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?

Pro.

Know thus far forth.

By accident most strange, bountiful fortune,

• Sprinkled.

† Stubborn resolution.

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 can'st not choose.-
[Miranda sleeps.

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 fire, to ride

On the curl'd clouds; to thy strong bidding, task

Ariel, and all his quality.

Pro.

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-

cursors

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.

Pro.

My brave spirit!

Who was so firm, so constant, that this coilt.
Would not infect his reason?

• The minutest article.

† Bustle, tumult.

:

Ari.

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 up staring (then like reeds, not hair),
Was the first man that leap'd; cried, Hell is empty,

And all the devils are here.

On their sustaining garments not a blemish,
But fresher than before: and, as thou bad'st me,
Iu troops I have dispers'd them 'bout the isle:
The king's son have I landed by himself;
Whom I left cooling of the air with sighs,
In an odd angle of the isle, and sitting,

His arms in this sad knot.

Pro.

Of the king's ship, The mariners, say, how thou hast dispos'd, And all the rest o' the fleet?

Ari.

Safely in harbour
Is the king's ship; in the deep nook, where once
Thou call'dst me up at midnight to fetch dew
From the still-vex'd Bermoothes*, there she's hid:
The mariners all under hatches stowed;

Whom, with a charm join'd to their suffer'd labour,
I have left asleep and for the rest o' the fleet,
Which 1 dispers'd, they all have met again;
And are upon the Mediterranean flotet,
Bound sadly home for Naples;

Supposing that they saw the king's ship wreck'd,

And his great person perish.

Pro.

Ariel, thy charge

Exactly is perform'd; but there's more work:
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.

What is't thou can'st demand?
Ari.

How now? moody?

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 pro

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 liest, 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, Sycorax,

• Algiers.