Was duke of Milan; and his only heir
A princess :-no worse issu'd.

Mira. O, the heavens !

What foul play had we, that we came from thence ?
Or blessed was't, we did?

i Pro. Both, both, my girl :

By foul play, as thou say'st, were we heav'd thence ;
But blessedly holp hither.

Mira. 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, called 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; 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

[4] A trash is a term still in use among hunters, to denote a piece of leather, couples, or any other weight fastened round the neck of a dog, when his speed in superior to the rest of the pack; i. e. when he over-tops them, when he hunts too quick. VOL. I.

C.

11

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) 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 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 levy'd, one midnight

Fated to th' purpose, did Antonio open

[5] i. e. By often repeating the same story. made his memory such a sinner unto truth, as to credit his own lie A miserable delusion, to which story-tellers are frequently subject.

WARB.

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,

Will cry it o'er again; it is a hint,

That wrings mine eyes.

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 Were most impertinent.

Mira. Wherefore did they not

That hour destroy us?

Pro. Well demanded, wench;

My tale provokes that question. Dear, they durst not; (So dear the love my people bore me) nor set

À 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 th' sea that roar'd to us; to sigh
To th' winds, whose pity, sighing back again,
Did us but loving wrong.

Mira. Alack! what trouble

Was I then to you!

Pro. 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 ?
Pro. By Providence divine.

Some food we had, and some fresh water, that
A noble Neapolitan, Gonzalo,

Out of his charity, (who being then appointed
Master of this design,) did give us; with
Rich garments, linens, stuffs, and necessaries,

Which since have steaded much; so, of his gentleness,

Knowing I lov'd my books, he furnish'd me,
From my own library, with volumes that
I prize above my dukedom.
Mira. 'Would I might

But ever see that man!

Pro. Now I arise :

Sit still, and hear the last of our sea-sorrow.

Here in this island we arriv'd; and here

Have I, thy school-master, made thee more profit
Than other princes can, that have more time

For vainer hours, and tutors not so careful.

Mira. Heavens thank for't! And now, I pray you, sir,

you

(For still 'tis beating in my mind,) your reason

For raising this sea-storm?

Pro. Know thus far forth.

By accident most strange, bountiful fortune,
Now my dear lady, hath mine enemies

Brought to this shore: and by my prescience
I find my zenith doth depend upon

A most auspicious star; whose influence

If now I court not, but omit, my fortunes

Will ever after droop.-Here cease more questions;
Thou art inclin'd to sleep; 'tis a good dulness,
And give it way;-I know thou canst not choose.
[Miranda sleeps.
Come away, servant, come: I am ready now;
Approach, my Ariel; come.

Enter ARIEL.

Ari. All hail, great master! grave sir, hail! I come

To answer thy best pleasure; be't to fly,

To swim, to dive into the fire, to ride

On the curl'd clouds; to thy strong bidding, task

Ariel, and all his quality.

Pro. Hast thou, spirit,

Perform'd to point the tempest that I bade thee?
Ari. To every article.

I boarded the king's ship; now on the beak,"

Now in the waist, the deck, in every cabin,

[6] Dr. Warburton rightly observes, that this sleepiness, which Prospero by his art had brought upon Miranda, and of which he knew not how soon the effect would begin, makes him question her so often whether she is attentive to his story. JOHNSON.

[7] The beak was a strong pointed body at the head of the ancient gallies: it is used here for the forecastle, or the bowsprit. JOHNSON. [8] The part between the quarter-deck and the forecastle.

JOHNSON.

I flam'd amazement: Sometimes, I'd divide,
And burn in many places; on the top-mast,
The yards and bowsprit, would flame distinctly,
Then meet, and join: Jove's lightnings, the precursors
O' th' dreadful thunder-claps, more momentary
And sight-out-running were not: The fire, and cracks
Of sulphurous roaring, the most mighty Neptune
Seem'd to besiege, and make his bold waves tremble,
Yea, his dread trident shake.

Pro. My brave spirit!

Who was so firm, so constant, that this coil
Would not infect his reason?

Ari. Not a soul

But felt a fever of the mad, and play'd

Some tricks of desperation: All, but mariners,
Plung'd in the foaming brine, and quit the vessel.
Then all a-fire with me: the king's son, Ferdinand,
With hair up-staring (then like reeds, not hair,)
Was the first man that leap'd; cried, Hell is empty,
And all the devils are here.

Pro. Why, that's my spirit!

But was not this nigh shore?
Ari. Close by, my master.
Pro. But are they, Ariel, safe?
Ari. Not a hair perish'd;

On their sustaining garments not a blemish,
But fresher than before: and, as thou bad'st me,
In troops I have dispers'd them 'bout the isle :
The king's son have I landed by himself;
Whom I left cooling of the air with sighs,
In an odd angle of the isle, and sitting,
His arms in this sad knot.

Pro. Of the king's ship,

The mariners, say, how thou hast dispos'd,
And all the rest o' th' fleet?

Ari. Safely in harbour

Is the king's ship; in the deep nook, where once
Thou call'dst me up at midnight to fetch dew

9

From the still-vex'd Bermoothes, there she's hid:

[9] Fletcher, in his 'omen Pleased, says, "The devil should think of pur chasing that egg-shell to victual out a witch for the Beermoothes." Smith, in his account of these islands, p. 172, says, "that the Bermudas were so fearful to the world, that many called them the Isle of Devils."-P. 174. "to all seamen no less