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 heav'ns!

Pro. Mark his condition, and th' event; then tell me, If this might be a Brother?

Mira. I fhould fin,

To think but nobly of my grand-mother; 7 Good wombs have bore bad fons.

Pro. Now the condition :

This King of Naples, being an enemy
To me inveterate, hearks my brother's fuit ;
Which was, that he in lieu o'th' premises,
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 th' purpose, did Anthonio open

The gates of Milan; and, i'th' dead of darkness,
The minifters for the purpose hurry'd thence
Me, and thy crying felf.

Mira. Alack, for pity!

I, not remembring how I cry'd out then,

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

That wrings mine eyes to't.

Pro. Hear, a little further,

And then I'll bring thee to the present business, Which now's upon's; without the which this story Were most impertinent.

7 Good wombs have bore bad fons ] Mr. Theobald would give thefe words to Profpero, because Miranda, bred up in the defart Iland from her infancy, could not be fuppos'd to be furnished with Such an obfervation from life. An idle reafon. Profpero tells us, he had educated her more carefully than ufual. Would he then fuffer her to be ignorant of the most common cafes in human life? Yet the Oxford Editor follows Mr. Theobald.

Mira. Why did they not

That hour destroy us?

Pro. Well demanded, wench;

My tale provokes that queftion. Dear, they durft not (So dear the love my people bore me ;) fet

A mark fo bloody on the business; but
With colours fairer painted their foul ends.
In few, they hurry'd us aboard a bark;
Bore us fome leagues to Sea; where they prepar'd
A rotten carcafs of a boat, not rigg'd,
Nor tackle, fail, nor maft; the very rats
Inftinctively had quit it: there they hoift us
To cry to th' fea, that roar'd to us; to figh
To th' winds, whofe pity, fighing back again,
Did us but loving wrong.

Mira. Alack! what trouble

Was I then to you?

Pro. O! a cherubim

Thou waft, that did preferve me: Thou didft fmile, Infused with a fortitude from heav'n,

(When I have mock'd the sea with drops full-falt; Under my burthen groan'd ;) which rais'd in me

An undergoing ftomach, to bear up

Against what should enfue.

Mira. How came we a-fhore?

Pro. By providence divine.

Some food we had, and fome fresh water, that

A noble Neapolitan, Gonzalo,

Out of his charity (being then appointed
Master of this defign) did give us, with

Rich garments, linnens, ftuffs, and neceffaries,
Which fince have fteeded much. So of his gentleness,

8 When I have DECK'D the fea] i. e. honour'd. But this is a poor thought. The Oxford Editor reads brack'd, which is ftill poorer. I imagine that Shakespear wrote мOCK'D, i. e. lent the Sea this trifling addition of falt-water: For when any thing is given or added, the effect of which is not felt or perceived, it was in the language of that time properly called mocking.

Knowing

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 fee that man!

9 Pro. Now, I arife:

Sit ftill, and hear the last of our fea-forrow.
Here in this island we arriv'd, and here

Have I, thy school-mafter, made thee more profit
Than other Princes can, that have more time
For vainer hours, and tutors not fo careful.

Mira. Heav'ns thank you for't! And now, I pray you, Sir,

(For ftill 'tis beating in my mind) your reason For raising this fea-storm?

Pro. Know thus far forth,

By accident moft ftrange, bountiful fortune
(Now my dear lady) hath mine enemies
Brought to this fhore: and, by my prescience
I find, my Zenith doth depend upon
A moft aufpicious ftar; whofe Influence
If now I court not, but omit, my fortunes

Will ever after droop. Here ceafe more questions;
Thou art inclin'd to fleep. 'Tis a good dulnefs,
And give it way; I know, thou canst not chufe-

[Miranda fleeps. Come away, fervant, come; I'm ready now: Approach, my Ariel. Come.

9 Pro. Now I arife:] i. e. now I come to the principal part of my Story, for the fake of which I told the foregoing; namely this, that I have now my Enemies in my Power; and if I omit this Opportunity, I fhall never have another to recover my Dukedom. The word is ufed to usher in a matter of importance. So Richard III. when he comes to the murder of his Nephews, fays to Tirrel,

Rife, and lend an ear.

SCENE

SCEN E III.

Enter Ariel.

Ari. All hail, great mafter! grave Sir, hail! I come To answer thy best pleasure: Be't to fly;

To fwim; to dive into the fire; to ride

On the curl'd clouds: to thy ftrong bidding task
Ariel, and all his qualities.

Pro. Halt thou, Spirit,

Perform'd to point the tempeft that I bad thee?
Ari. To every Article.

I boarded the King's fhip: now on the beak,
Now in the wafte, the deck, in every cabin,
I flam'd amazement. Sometimes, I'd divide,
And burn in many places; on the top-mast,
The yards, and bolt-fprit, would I flame distinctly;
Then meet and join. Jove's lightnings, the precurfers
Of dreadful thunder-claps, more momentary

And fight out-running were not; the fire and cracks
Of fulphurous roaring the most mighty Neptune
Seem'd to befiege, and make his bold waves tremble;
Yea, his dread trident fhake.

Pro. My brave, brave spirit!

Who was fo firm, fo conftant, that this coyl
Would not infect his reafon?

Ari. Not a foul

But felt a feaver of the mind, and plaid

Some tricks of defperation: all, but mariners,
Plung'd in the foaming brine, and quit the veffel,
Then all a-fire with me: the King's fon Ferdinand
With hair up-staring (then like reeds, not hair)
Was the first man, that leap'd; cry'd, "hell is empty;
"And all the devils are here.

Pro. Why, that's my Spirit!

But was not this nigh fhore?

Ari. Close by, my Master.
Pro. But are they, Ariel, fafe?
Ari. Not a hair perish'd:

On their fuftaining garments not a blemish,
But fresher than before. And as thou badft me,
In troops I have dispers'd them 'bout the isle :
The King's fon have I landed by himself,
Whom I left cooling of the air with fighs,
In an odd angle of the ifle, and fitting,
His arms in this fad knot.

Pro. Of the King's fhip

The mariners, fay how thou haft difpos'd,
And all the reft o'th' fleet?

Ari. Safely in harbour

Is the King's fhip; in the deep nook, where once
Thou call'dft me up at midnight, to fetch dew
From the ftill-vext Bermoothes, there fhe's hid:
The mariners all under hatches ftow'd,

I

Who, with a charm join'd to their fuffered labour,
I've left asleep; and for the rest o'th' fleet
(Which I difpers'd) they all have met again,
And are upon the Mediterranean flote,

Bound fadly home for Naples;

Suppofing, that they faw the King's fhip wreckt,
And his great perfon perish.

Pro. Ariel, thy charge

1 From the fill-wext Bermoothes,] Theobald fays Bermoothes is printed by mistake for Bermudas. No. That was the name by which the Iflands then went, as we may fee by the Voyagers of that time; and by our Author's contemporary Poets. Fletcher, in his Woman pleased, fays, The Devil fhould think of purchafing that Eggshell to victual out a Witch for the Bermoothes. Smith, in his account of thefe Iflands p. 172. fays, that the Bermudas were fo fearful to the world, that many call'd them the Ifle of Devils. P. 174. to all Seamen no less terrible than an inchanted den of Faries. And no wonder, for the clime was extremely fubject to Storms and Hurricanes; and the Iflands were furrounded with scattered Rocks lying fhallowly hid under the Surface of the Water.

Exactly