Sidor som bilder

Sebaf. I'm out of Patience.

Ant. We are meerly cheated of our Lives by Drunkards, This wide-chopt Rafcal—would thou might ft lye drowning the washing of ten Tides.

Gonz. He'll be hang'd yet,

Though every Drop of Water fwear against it,

And gape at wid'ft to glut him.

Mercy on us.

[A confufed Noife within.

We fplit, we fplit: Farewel my Wife and Children,
Farewel Brother: We fplit, we fplit, we split.

Ant. Let's all fink with the King.

Seb. Let's take leave of him.


Gonz. Now would I give a thousand Furlongs of Sea for an Acre of barren Ground: Long Heath, brown Furze, any thing; the Wills above be done, but I would fain die a dry Death. [Exit,


Enter Profpero 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 ftinking Pitch,
But that the Sea, mounting to the Welkins Cheek,
Dashes the Fire out. Oh! I have fuffered
With thofe that I faw fuffer: A brave Vessel
(Who had, no doubt, fome noble Creature in her)
Dash'd all to Pieces. Oh! the Cry did knock
Against my very Heart: Poor Souls, they perifh'd.
Had I been any God of Power, I would
Have funk the Sea within the Earth, or e'er
It should the good Ship fo have fwallow'd, and
The fraughting Souls 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 am more better
B 3


Than Profpero, Master of a full
And thy no greater Father.
Mira, More to know

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Did never meddle with my Thoughts.
Pro. 'Tis true,

I fhould inform thee farther. Lend thy Hand,
And pluck my magick Garment from me: So!

Lye there my Art. Wipe thou thine Eyes, have Comfort,
The direful Spectacle of the Wrack, which touch'd

The very Virtue of Compaffion in thee,

I have with fuch Compaffion in mine Art
So fafely order'd, that there is no Soul loft,
No not fo much Perdition as an Hair
Betide to any Creature in the Vessel

Which thou heard'ft cry, which thou faw'ft fink:
Sit down, for thou muft now know farther.

Mira. You have often

Begun to tell me what I am, but stopt,
And left me to the bootlefs Inquifition;
Concluding, Stay; not yet.

Pro, The Hour's now come,

The very Minute bids thee ope thine Ear,
Obey, and be attentive. Canft thou remember
A time before we came unto this Cell?

I do not think thou canft, for then thou waft 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 with 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 hadft, and more, Miranda: But how is it That this lives in thy Mind? What seeft thou elfe

In the dark backward and Abyfme of Time?

If thou remembreft ought e'er thou cam'ft here,
How thou cam'ft here thou may'st.

Mira. But that I do not.

Pro. Twelve Year fince, Miranda, twelve Year fince


Thy Father was the Duke of Millan, and

A Prince of Power.

Mira. Sir, are not you my


Pro. Thy Mother was a piece of Virtue, and
She faid thou waft my Daughter, and thy Father
Was Duke of Millan, and his only Heir,
And Princefs; no worse iffu'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 fayeft) were we heav'd thence,
But bleffedly holp 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 fo perfidious! He, whom next thy felf
Of all the World I lov'd, and to him put
The Manage of my State; as at that time
Through all the Signories it was the first,
And Profpero the prime Duke, being fo reputed
In Dignity; and for the Liberal Arts,

Without a Parallel; thofe being all my Study;
The Government I caft upon my Brother,
And to my State grew Stranger, being transported
And rapt in fecret Studies. Thy falfe Uncle,
(Doft thou attend)?

Mira. Sir, most heedfully.

Pro. Being once perfected how to grant Suits,
How to deny them; whom t'advance, and whom
To trash for over-topping; new created

The Creatures that were mine, I fay, or chang'd 'em,
Or elfe new form'd 'em; having both the Key
Of Officer and Office, fet all Hearts o'th' State
To what Tune pleas'd his Ear, that now he was
The Ivy which had hid my princely Trunk,
And fuckt my Verdure out on't: Thou attend'ft 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 retired
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 Falfhood in its contrary, as great

As my Truft 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 elfe exact; like one
Who having into Truth, by telling of it,
Made fuch a Sinner of his Memory

To credit his own Lie, he did believe
He was indeed the Duke, out o'th' Subftitution
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 Screen between this Part he plaid,
And him he plaid it for; he needs will be
Abfolute Millan; 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 Millan!)
To much ignoble stooping.

Mira. Oh the Heav'ns!

Pro. Mark his Condition, and th' Event, then tell me If this might be a Brother.

Mira. Ifhould fin,

To think but nobly of my Grand-mother;

Good Wombs have born 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' th' Premises,

Of Homage, and I know not how much Tribute,
Should prefently extirpate me and mine


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Out of the Dukedom, and confer fair Millan,
With all the Honours, on my Brother. Whereon
A treacherous Army levy'd, one Mid-night
Fated to th' Purpose, did Anthonio open

The Gates of Millan, and i' th' dead of Darkness
The Minifter for th' Purpose hurry'd thence
Me, and thy crying felf.

Mira. Alack for pity!

I not remembring how I cry'd out then it o'er again; it is a hint

Will cry

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. Wherefore did they not

That Hour destroy us?

Pro. Well demanded, Wench;

My Tale provokes that Queftion. Dear, they durft not;

So dear the Love my People bore me: Nor fet

A Mark fo bloody on the Bufinefs; but
With Colours fairer painted their foul Ends.
In few; they hurry'd us aboard a Bark,
Bore us fome Leagues to Sea, where they prepar'd
A rotten Carcafs of a Boat, not rigg'd,

Nor Tackle, nor Sail, nor Maft; the very Rats
Inftinctively had quit it: There they hoift us
To cry to th' Sea that roar'd to us to figh
To th' Winds, whofe Pity fighing back again
Did us but loving Wrong.

Mira. Alack! what Trouble

Was I then to you?

Pro. O! a Cherubim

Thou waft that did preferve me: Thou didst fmile,

Infufed with a Fortitude from Heav'n,

When I have deck'd the Sea with Drops full falt,
Under my Burthen groan'd, which rais'd in me
An undergoing Stomach, to bear up

Against what should enfue.

Mira. How came we a-fhore?

Pro. By Providence divine;


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