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 unto this cell?

I do not think thou can'st; 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 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 had'st, and more, Miranda: But how

is it,

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

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

Mira.

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.

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; 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.

By foul play, as thou say'st,
But blessedly holp hither.

Mira.

6

Both, both, my girl:

were we heav'd thence;

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, call'd 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 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 over-topping 7; new created

The creatures that were mine; I say, or chang'd them, Or else 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 suck'd my verdure out on't.-Thou attend'st

not:

I pray thee, mark me.

Mira.

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 retir'd,
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 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,-he did believe
He was 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 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 9) 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.

Mira.

O the heavens !

Pro. Mark his condition, and the event; then tell

me,

If this might be a brother.

Mira.

I should sin

To think but 10 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,

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 carcass of a boat, not rigg'd,

Nor tackle, sail, nor mast; the

very rats

Instinctively had quit it: there they hoist us,
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 stomach, to bear up

Against what should ensue.

Mira.

How came we ashore?