Every third thought fhall be my grave.
To hear the story of your life, which must
Take the ear ftrangely.
And promife you calm feas, aufpicious gales,
And fail fo expeditious, that fhall catch
Your royal fleet far off: My Ariel, chick,
That is thy charge: Then to the elements
Be free, and fare thou well! Please you, draw near.
EPILOGUE,
Spoken by Profpero.
OW my charms are all o'er-thrown,
And what ftrength I have's mine own z
Which is most faint and now, 'tis true,
I must be here confin'd by you,
Or fent to Naples! Let me not,
Since I have my Dukedom got,
And pardon'd the deceiver, dwell
In this bare ifland by your spell:
But releafe me from my bands,
With the help of your good hands.
Gentle breath of yours my fails
Muft fill, or else my project fails,
Which was to please. For now I want
Spirits t' enforce, art to enchant;
And my ending is despair,
Unless I be reliev'd by prayer;
Which pierces fo, that it affaults
Mercy it felf, and frees all faults.
As you from crimes would pardon'd be,
Let your indulgence fet me free.