To think o' the teen that I have turned 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 loved, 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?
O'erprized all popular rate, in my false brother Awaked 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 indeed the duke; out of the substitution, And executing the outward face of royalty, With all prerogative:-Hence his ambition grow- ing,—
Mira. Your tale, sir, would cure deafness. Pro. To have no screen between this part he played,
And him he played 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 the crown, and bend The dukedom, yet unbowed, (alas, poor Milan!) To most ignoble stooping.
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.
I, not remembering how I cried out then, Will cry it o'er again: it is a hint
That wrings mine eyes to't.
And then I'll bring thee to the present business Which now's upon us; without the which, this
story Were most impertinent.
Well demanded, wench;
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 prepared A rotten carcass of a boat, not rigged, Nor tackle, sail, nor mast; the very rats Instinctively had quit it: there they hoist us, To cry to the sea that roared to us; to sigh To the winds, whose pity, sighing back again, Did us but loving wrong.
But felt a fever of the mad, and played Some tricks of desperation: All, but mariners, Plunged 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 leaped; cried, "Hell is empty,
And all the devils are here!"
But was not this nigh shore? Ari. Pro. But are they, Ariel, safe? Ari. Not a hair perished;
Close by, my master.
On their sustaining garments not a blemish, But fresher than before: and, as thou bad'st me, In troops I have dispersed 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.
The mariners, say, how thou hast disposed, And all the rest o' the fleet?
Ari. Is the king's ship; in the deep nook, where once Thou calledst me up at midnight to fetch dew From the still-vexed Bermoothes, there she's hid: The mariners all under hatches stowed; Whom, with a charm joined to their suffered labour, I have left asleep and for the rest o' the fleet, Which I dispersed, they all have met again; And are upon the Mediterranean flote, Bound sadly home for Naples;
Supposing that they saw the king's ship wrecked,
And his great person perish.
Ariel, thy charge
Pro. Exactly is performed; but there's more work : What is the time o' the day?
Pro. We cannot miss him he does make our fire, Fetch in our wood; and serves in offices That profit us. What ho! slave! Caliban! Thou earth, thou! speak.
Cal. [within.] There 's wood enough within. Pro. Come forth, I say; there's other business for thee:
Come, thou tortoise! when?
Re-enter ARIEL, like a water-nymph. Fine apparition! My quaint Ariel, Hark in thine ear.
My lord, it shall be done.
Ari. Pro. Thou poisonous slave, got by the devil himself
Upon thy wicked dam, come forth!
Could not abide to be with; therefore wast thou Deservédly confined into this rock,
Who hadst deserved more than a prison.
Cal. You taught me language; and my profit on ''t
Is, I know how to curse: The red plague rid you For learning me your language! Hag-seed, hence!
Fetch us in fuel; and be quick, thou wert best, To answer other business. Shrugg'st thou, malice? If thou neglect'st, or dost unwillingly
What I command, I'll rack thee with old cramps; Fill all thy bones with achés; make thee roar, That beasts shall tremble at thy din. No, 'pray thee!--
Cal. I must obey his art is of such power, [Aside. It would control my dam's god, Setebos, And make a vassal of him. Pro.
Re-enter ARIEL invisible, playing and singing, FERDINAND following him.
Come unto these yellow sands,
And then take hands: Court'sied when you have, and kissed, (The wild waves whist,)
Foot it featly here and there; And, sweet sprites, the burden bear. Hark, hark!
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