The very virtue of compassion in thee,
I have with such provision in mine art
So safely ordered, 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 further.

You have often

Mira.
Begun to tell me what I am; but stopped
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. Can'st thou remember
A time before we came into this cell?

I do not think thou can'st; for then thou wast not
Out1 three years old.

Of

Mira.

Certainly, sir, I can. Pro. By what? by any other house, or person? any thing the image tell me, that

Hath kept with thy remembrance.

Mira.

'Tis far off;

Had I not

And rather like a dream than an assurance
That my remembrance warrants:

Four or five women once, that tended me?

Pro. Thou had'st, and more, Miranda: But how

is it,

That this lives in thy mind? What seest thou else
In the dark backward and abysm of time?

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

Mira.

But that I do not.

Pro. Twelve years since, Miranda, twelve years

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.

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 heaved thence; But blessedly holp hither.

Mira.

O, my heart bleeds To think o' the teen' that I have turned you to,

Which is from my remembrance! Please you, further.
Pro. My brother, and thy uncle, called Antonio-

I pray thee, mark me,-that a brother should
Be so perfidious!-he whom, next thyself,
Of all the world I loved, 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?

Mira.

Sir, most heedfully.

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 changed them,
Or else new formed them; having both the key
Of officer and office, set all hearts i' th' state
To what tune pleased his ear; that now he was
The ivy, which had hid my princely trunk,

And sucked my verdure out on't.-Thou attend'st not.

1 Grief, sorrow.

2 To check the pace or progress of any one. Trashes are clogs strapped round the neck of a dog to prevent his overspeed. There was another word of the same kind used in falconry.

Mira. O good sir, I do.

Pro.
I pray
thee mark me.
I thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicate
To closeness, and the bettering of my mind
With that, which, but by being so retired,
O'er-prized all popular rate, in my false brother
Awaked 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,2-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 hear?

Mira. Your tale, sir, would cure deafness.
Pro. To have no screen between this part he played
And him he played 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 unbowed, (alas, poor Milan!)
To most ignoble stooping.

Mira.

O the heavens!

Pro. Mark his condition, and the event; then

tell me,

If this might be a brother.

1 Alluding to the observation that a father above the common rate of men has generally a son below it.

2 "Who having made his memory such a sinner to truth as to credit his own lie by telling of it."

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 honors, 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 remembering how I cried out then,
Will cry it o'er again; it is a hint,2

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 colors fairer painted their foul ends.
In few, they hurried us aboard a bark,

Bore us some leagues to sea; where they prepared
A rotten carcass of a boat, not rigged,
Nor tackle, sail, nor mast; the very rats
Instinctively had quit it; there they hoist us,
To cry to the sea that roared to us; to sigh

1 In consideration of the premises.

2 Cause or subject.

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 decked' the sea with drops full salt;
Under my burden groaned; which raised in me
An undergoing stomach, to bear up

2

Against what should ensue.

Mira.

Pro. By Providence divine.

How came we ashore?

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 gentleness,
Knowing I loved my books, he furnished 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 arrived; and here
Have I, thy school-master, made thee more profit
Than other princes can, that have more time
For vainer hours, and tutors not so careful.
Mira. Heavens thank you for't! And now,
you, sir,

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

Pro.

I

pray

Know thus far forth.

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

Brought to this shore: and by my prescience

1 Sprinkled.

2 A temper or frame of mind to bear.