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Boats. Lay her a-hold, a-hold ; set her two courses; off to sea again, lay her off.

Enter Mariners wet.
Mar. All loft! to prayers, to prayers! all lost! [Exeunt.
Boats. What, must our mouths be cold ?

Gon. The king and prince at prayers ! let us aslift them,
For our case is as theirs.

Seb. I am out of patience.

Ant. We are merely cheated of our lives by drunkards. This wide-chopp'd rascal ;--'Would, thou might'it lie

drowning, The walhing of ten tides ! Gon.

He'll be hang'd yet; Though every drop of water swear against it, And

gape at wid'ft to glut him. [4 confused noise within.] Mercy on us !-We split, we split!-Farewell, my wife and children ! ---Farewell, bro. ther !_We fplit, we split, we split !Ant. Let's all link with the king.

[Exit. Seb. Let's take leave of him.

[Exit. Gon. 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.




The Trand: before the Cell of Prospero.



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,

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But that the sea, mounting to the welkin's cheek,
Daihes the fire out. O, I have suffer'd
With those that I saw suffer! a brave vessel,
Who had no doubt some noble creatures in her,
Daih'd all to pieces.

O, the cry did knock
Against my very heart! Poor souls ! they perih 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 swallow'd, and
The freighting souls within her.

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

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.

More to know
Did never meddle with my thoughts.

'Tis time
I mould inform thee further. Lend thy hand,
And pluck my magick garment from me.-So;

[Lays down his mantle. Lie there my art.-Wipe thou thine eyes; have comfort. The direful spectacle of the wreck, which touch'd The very virtue of compassion in thee, I have with such provision in mine art So fafely order'd, that there is no soul No, not so much perdition as an hair, Betid to any creature in the vessel


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

You have often
Begun to tell me what I am ; but stopp'd
And left me to a bootless inquisition ;
Concluding, Stay, not yet.

The hour's now come;

minute bids thee ope thine ear;
Obey, and be attentive. Can'st thou remember
A time before we came unto this cell ?
I do not think thou can'ft; for then thou wast not
Out three


old. Mira.

Certainly, fir, I can.
Pro. By what? by any other house, or person !
Of any thing the image tell me, that
Hath kept with thy remembrance.

'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 had'ft, and more, Miranda : But how is it,
That this lives in thy mind? What feest thou else
In the dark backward and abysin of time ?
If thou remember'st aught, ere thou cam'ft here,
How thou cam'ft here, thou may'st.

But that I do not.
Pro. Twelve years since, Miranda, twelve years since,
Thy father was 'the duke of Milan, and
A prince of power.

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
A princess ;--no worse issued.

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O the heavens!
What foul play had we, that we came from thence?
Or blessed was t, we did ?

Both, both, my girl :
By foul play, as thou fay'st, were we heav'd thence ;
But blessedly holp hither.

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, callid 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 figniories it was the first, And Prospero the prime duke; being fo reputed In dignity, and, for the liberal arts, Without a parallel ; those being all my study, The government I caft upon my brother, And to my state grew ftranger, being transported, And rapt in secret studies. Thy false uncle Dost thou attend me ? Mira,

Sir, most heedfully.
Pro. Being once perfected how to grant suits,
How to deny them ; whom to advance, and whom
To trash for over-topping; new created
The creatures that were mine ; I say, or chang'd them,
Or elfe new form'd 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 fuck'd my verdure out on't.-Thou attend 'st not :
I pray thee, mark “e.

O good sir, I do.
Pro. I thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicate


To closeness, and the bettering of my mind
With that, which, but by being so retird,
D'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 fallhood, 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 elfe exact, like one,
Who having, unto truth, by telling of it,
Made such a finner of his memory,
To credit his own lie, he did believe
He was the duke; out of the fubftitution,
And executing the outward face of royalty,
With all prerogative :-Hence his ambition
Growing,-Doft 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) 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.

o the heavens!
Pro. Mark his condition, and the event; then tell me,
If this might be a brother.

I should fin
To think but nobly of my grandmother:
Good wombs have borne bad fons.


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