Seb. A pox o' your throat, you bawling, blasphemous, incharitable dog! Boats. Work you, then. Ant. Hang, cur, hang! you whoreson, insolent noisemaker, we are less afraid to be drowned than thou art. Gon. I'll warrant him for drowning; though the ship were no stronger than a nutshell, and as leaky as an unstanched wench. Boats. Lay her a-hold, a-hold! set her two courses! off to sea again; lay her off! Re-enter Mariners wet. Mariners. All lost! to prayers, to prayers! all lost! Boats. What, must our mouths be cold? [Exeunt. Gon. The king and prince at prayers! let's assist them, For our case is as theirs. Seb. I'm out of patience. Ant. We are merely cheated of our lives by drunkards:This wide-chapp'd rascal, — would thou mightst lie drowning, The washing of ten tides! Gon. He'll be hang'd yet, Though every drop of water swear against it, And gape at wid'st to glut him. [A confused noise within, "We split, we split!" "Farewell, 66 'Mercy on us!" "Farewell, my wife and children!". "We split, we split, we split!"] brother!" [Exit Boatswain. Ant. Let's all sink with the king. [Exit. Let's take leave of him. [Exit. Gon. 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. SCENE II. The island: before the cell of PROSPERO. Enter PROSPERO and MIRANDA. Mir. If by your art, my dearest father, you have With those that I saw suffer! a brave vessel, Have sunk the sea within the earth, or e'er It should the good ship so have swallow'd, and Pros. Be collected; No more amazement: tell your piteous heart There's no harm done. No harm. I have done nothing but in care of thee, Mir. More to know Did never meddle with my thoughts. Pros. "Tis time I should inform thee further. Lend thy hand, who [Lays down his robe. Lie 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 prevision in mine art So safely order'd, that there is no soul Which thou heard'st cry, which thou saw'st sink. Sit down; For thou must now know further. You have often Mir. Pros. The hour's now come; The very minute bids thee ope thine ear: I do not think thou canst, for then thou wast not Pros. By what? by any other house or person? Of any thing the image tell me that Hath kept with thy remembrance. Mir. "Tis far off, And rather like a dream than an assurance Pros. Thou hadst, and more, Miranda. But how is it That this lives in thy mind? What see'st thou else If thou remember'st aught ere thou cam'st here, Mir. But that I do not. Pros. Twelve year since, Miranda, twelve year since, Thy father was the Duke of Milan, and A prince of power. Mir. Sir, are not you my father? Pros. Thy mother was a piece of virtue, and She said thou wast my daughter; and thy father Was Duke of Milan; thou his only heir, Mir. O the heavens! What foul play had we, that we came from thence? Pros. Both, both, my girl: Mir. O, my heart bleeds Which is from my remembrance! Please you, further. that a brother should he whom, next thyself, Of all the world I lov'd, and to him put at that time, Through all the signiories it was the first, And Prospero the prime duke; being so reputed Without a parallel: those being all my study, And to my state grew stranger, being transported Mir. Sir, most heedfully. Pros. Being once perfected how to grant suits, How to deny them, who t' advance, and who To trash for over-topping, new-created The creatures that were mine, I say, or chang'd 'em, Or else new-form'd 'em; having both the key Of officer and office, set all hearts i' the state To what tune pleas'd his ear; that now he was And suck'd my verdure out on't. Thou attend'st not. Pros. I pray thee, mark me. I, thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicated O'er-priz'd all popular rate, in my false brother As my trust was; which had indeed no limit, To credit his own lie, he did believe He was indeed the duke; out o' the substitution, With all prerogative: - hence his ambition growing, · Mir. Your tale, sir, would cure deafness. Pros. 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 So dry he was for sway with the King of Naples The dukedom, yet unbow'd, — alas, poor Milan! Mir. O the heavens! Pros. Mark his condition, and th' event; then tell me If this might be a brother. To think but nobly of my grandmother: Pros. Now the condition. This King of Naples, being an enemy To me inveterate, hearkens my brother's suit; - |