hour, if it fo hap.-Cheerly, good hearts.-Out of our way, I fay.

[Exit. Gonz. [1] I have great comfort from this fellow; methinks he hath no drowning mark upon him; his complexion is perfect gallows. Stand faft good fate to his hanging make the rope of his deftiny our cable, for our own doth little advantage: if he be not born to be hang'd, our cafe is miferable. [Exeunt.

Re-enter Boatfwain.

Boats Down with the top-maft: yare, lower, lower; bring her to try with main-courfe. [A cry within. A plague upon this howling! they are louder than the weather, or our office.

Re-enter SEBASTIAN, ANTHONIO, and GONZALO. -Yet again? what do you here? fhall we give o'er and drown? Have you a mind to fink?

Seb. A pox o' your throat! you bawling, blafphemous, uncharitable dog.

Boats. Work you then.

Ant. Hang, cur, hang! you whorefon, infolent, noifemaker! we are less afraid to be drown'd than thou art." Gonz. I'll warrant him from drowning; though the fhip were no ftronger than a nut-shell, and as leaky as an unftaunch'd wench.

Boat Lay her a-hold, a-hold; fet her two courfes; off to fea again, lay her off.

Enter Mariners wet.

Mar. All loft! to prayers! to prayers! all loft! [Exe. Boats. What, muft our mouths be cold?

Gonz. The king and prince at pray'rs ! let us affift them,

For our cafe is as theirs.

Seb. I'm out of patience.

Ant. We're merely cheated of our lives by drunkards.

This wide-chopp'd rascal : -'Would thou might'ft lic drowning

The washing of ten tides!

[1] It may be obferved of Gonzalo, that, being the only good man that appears with the king, he is the only man that preferves his cheerfulnefs in the wreck, and his hope on the island. JOHNS.

Gonz. He'll be hang'd yet;

Though every drop of water fwear against it,
And gape at wid'ft to glut him.

A confufed noife within.] Mercy on us!

We fplit, we fplit !-farewel, my wife and children !—
Farewel, brother!-we fplit, we fplit, we fplit!
Ant. Let's all fink with the king.

Seb. Let's take leave of him.

[Exit.

[Exit.

Gonz. Now would I give a thousand furlongs of fea 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.

SCENE II.

The enchanted land: before the Cell of PROSPERO. Enter PROSPERO and MIRANDA.

Mira. If by your art, my deareft father, you have Put the wild waters in this roar, allay them : The fky, it seems, would pour down ftinking pitch, But that the fea, mounting to the welkin's cheek, Dashes the fire out. O! I have fuffer'd With those that I faw fuffer! a brave veffel, Who bad, no doubt, fome noble creatures in her, Dafh'd all to pieces.. O the cry did knock Against my very heart! Poor fouls! they perifh'd. Had I been any god of pow'r, I would

Have funk the fea within the earth, or ere

It should the good fhip fo have swallow'd, and
The freighting fouls 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
Than Profpero, mafter 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 further. Lend thy hand,
To pluck my magic garment from me.-So!

[Lays down his Mantle.
Lie there, my art.-Wipe thou thine eyes; have comfort.
The direful fpectacle of the wreck, which touch'd
The very virtue of compaffion in thee,
I have with fuch provifion in mine art
So fafely order'd, that there is no foul-
No, not fo much perdition as an hair
Betid to any creature in the veffel

Which thou heard'ft cry, which thou faw'ft fink. Sit down ;

For thou muft now know further.

Mira. You have often

Begun to tell me what I am; but ftopp'd
And left me to a bootlefs inquifition;
Concluding, Stay; not yet.-

Pro. The hour's now come;

The very minute bids thee ope thine ear:
Obey, and be attentive. Can't 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, 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.

Mira. "Tis far off;

And rather like a dream, than an affurance

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 fee'ft thou elfe
In the dark back-ward and abyfm of time?

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

Mira. But that I do not.

Pro. Twelve years fince, Miranda-twelve years fince, Thy father was the duke of Milan, and

A prince of power.

Mira. Sir, are you not my father?

Pro. Thy mother was a piece of virtue, and She faid, thou waft my daughter; and thy father

Was duke of Milan; thou his only heir
And princefs-no worfe iffu'd.

Mira. O the heavens !

What foul play had we that we came from thence ?
Or blefs'd was't we did?

Pro. Both, both, my girl:

By foul play, as thou fay'ft, were we heav'd thence ;
But bleffedly holp hither.

Mira. O, my heart bleeds

To think o' the teen that I have turn'd you to,
Which is from my remembrance! Pleafe you further.
Pro. My brother, and thy uncle, called Anthonio,-
I pray thee, mark me,-that a brother fhould
Be fo 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 Profpero the prime duke; being fo reputed
In dignity, and for the liberal arts,

Without a parallel; thofe being all my ftudy,
The government I caft upon my brother,

And to my ftate grew ftranger, being tranfported,
And wrapp'd in fecret ftudies. Thy falfe uncle
Doft thou attend me?

Mira. Sir, moft heedfully.

Pro. Being once perfected how to grant fuits, How to deny them; whom to advance, and whom To trash for over-topping; new created

1

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 ï' the state
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't not. ·
Mira. O good fir, I do.

Pro. I pray thee, mark me.

I thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicated
To clofenefs, and the bettering of my mind
With that, which, but by being fo retired,
O'er-priz'd all popular rate, in my falfe brother
Awak'd an evil nature: and my trust,
Like a good parent, did beget of him
A falfehood, 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 unto truth, by telling of it,
Made fuch a finner 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,Doft thou hear?

Mira. Your tale, fir, would cure deafnefs.

Pro. To have no fcreen between this part he play'd And him he play'd it for, he needs will be Abfolute Milan Me, poor man !-my library Was dukedom large enough; of temporal royalties He thinks me now incapable: confederates, So dry he was for fway, 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 moft ignoble ftooping.

Mira. Ŏ the heavens!

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

Mira. I fhould fin

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

Pro. Now the condition.

This king of Naples, being an enemy

To me inveterate, hearkens my brother's fuit;
Which was, that he in lieu o' the premifes-
Of homage, and I know not how much tribute-
Should prefently extirpate me and mine
Out of the dukedom; and confer fair Milan,
With all the honours, on my brother: Whereon,
A treacherous army levy'd, one mid-night

Fated to the purpose, did Anthonio open
The gates of Milan; and, i' the dead of darkness,
The minifters for the purpofe hurried thence
Me, and thy crying felf.

Mira. Alack, for pity!

[2] . e. By often repeating the fame ftory, made his memory fuch a finner unto truth, as to give credit to his own lie. A miferable delufion, 30 which ftory-tellers are frequently fubject. WARB.