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THE

T E M P E S T.

A CT I. SCENE I.

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On a Ship at Sea.
A tempestuous noise of thunder and lightning beard:

Enter a Ship-master, and a Boatswain.

MASTER.
OATSWAIN.

Boats. Here master : what cheer?
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Maft. Good, speak to th' mariners : fall to't, yarely, or we run ourselves a-ground ; bestir, beftir.

Enter Mariners. Boats. Hey my hearts, cheerly my hearts ; yare, yare ; take in the top-fail; tend to th’master's whistle ; blow 'till thou burft thy wind, if room enough. Enter Alonso, Sebastian, Anthonio, Ferdinand, Gonzalo,

and others. Alon. Good boatswain have care: Where's the master? play the men.

Boats:

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Boats. I pray now keep below.
Vint. Where is the maiter, boatswain ?

Boats. Do you not hear him? you mar our labour ; keep your cabins; you assist the storm.

Gonz. Nay, good be patient.

Boats. When the sea is. Hence. What care these Roarers for the name of King? to cabin ; silence; trouble us not.

Gonz. Good: yet remember whom thou hast aboard.

Boats. None that I love more than myself. You are a ccunsellor ; if you can command these elements to silence, and work the peace of the present, we will not hand a rope more; use your authority. If you cannot, give thanks

you

have liv'd so long, and make your self ready in your cabin for the mischance of the hour, if it so hap. Cheerly good hearts: out of our way, I say. [Exit.

Gonz. I have great comfort from this fellow; methinks he hath no drowning mark upon him; his complexion is perfect gallows. Stand fast, good fate, to his hanging ; make the rope of his destiny our cable, for our own doth little advantage: if he be not born to be hang'd, our case is miserable.

[Exit. Re-enter Boatswain. Boats. Down with the top-maft: yare, lower, lower ; bring her to try with main-course. A plague upon this howling cry

within. Enter Sebastian, Anthonio and Gonzalo. they are louder than the weather, or our office. Yet again? what do you here? shall we give o'er and drown? have you a mind to sink?

Seb. A pox o’ your throat, you bawling, blasphemous, uncharitable dog.

Boats. Work you then.

Ant. Hang cur, hang, you whoreson insolent noisemaker; we are less afraid to be drown'd than thou art.

Gonz. I'll warrant him for drowning, though the Ship

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were no stronger than a nut-shell, and as leaky as an unstanch'd wench.

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

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

Gonz. The King and Prince at pray’rs ? let us alist 'em For our case is as theirs.

Seb. I'm out of patience.

Ant. We're merely cheated of our lives by drunkards. This wide-chopt rascal---would thou might'st lie drowning The washing of ten tides !

Gonz. He'll be hang'd yet,
Though every drop of water swear against it,
And gape at wid'ft to glut him.
Seb. Mercy on us!

[A confused noise within. We split, we split! farewel my wife and children, Brother farewel: we split, we split, we fplit!

Ant. Let's all sink with the King.
Seb. Let's take leave of him.

[Exit. Gonz. Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea for an acre of barren ground: ''ling, heath, broom, furze, any thing; the wills above be done, but I would fain die a dry death.

[Exit.

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Enter Profpero and Miranda.
Mira. T F 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 1 long heath, brown furze, any thing ;

TEMPE S T.
But that the sea, mounting to th' welkin's cheek,
Dashes the fire out. O! I have suffer'd
With those that I saw suffer: à brave veffel
(Who had, no doubt, fome noble creatures in her)
Dash'd all to pieces. Oh! the cry did knock
Against my very heart: poor souls, they perish'd :
Had I been any God of pow'r, I would
Have funk the sea within the earth or e'er
It should the good ship fo have swallow'd, and
The fraighted 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'm more, or better
Than Profpero, master of a full poor cell,
And thy no greater father.

Mira. More to know
Did never meddle with my thoughts.

Pro. 'Tis time
I should inform thee farther. Lend thy hand,
And pluck my magick garment from me: so!

[Lays down bis mantle.
Lye 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 safely order'd, that there's no foul loft;
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 farther.
Mira. You have often

Begun 2 compaffica ... old edii. Theob. emend.

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

Pro. The hour's now come,
The very minute bids thee ope thine ear,
Obey, and be attentive. Canst remember
A time before we came unto this cell?
I do not think thou canst, for then thou wast not
Out three years old.

Mira. Certainly, Sir, I can.

Pro. By what? by any other house, or person ?
Of any thing the image, tell me, that
Hath kept in 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 feest thou else
In the dark back-ward and abysme of time?
If thou remember'st ought ere thou cam'ft here,
How thou cam'ft here thou may'ft.
Mira. But that I do not.

[since Pro. 'Tis twelve years since, Miranda; twelve years Thy father was the Duke of Milan, and A Prince of Pow'r.

Mira. 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, 3 'thou his only heir
A Princess, no worse iffu'd.

Mira. O the heav'ns!
What foul play had we that we came from thence ?
Or blefled was't we did ?

Pro. Both, both, my girl:
By foul play (as thou say it) were we heav'd thence,
But blessedly help'd hither.
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Mira. 3 and his only heir

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