Lie there my art.-Wipe thou thine eyes; have comfort. The direful spectacle of the wreck, which touch'd Which thou heard'st cry, which thou saw'st sink. Sit dowu; For thou must now know further. You have often Mira. Pro. The hour's now come; The very minute bids thee ope thine ear; Obey, and be attentive. Can'st thou remember I do not think thou can'st; for then thou wast not Mira. Certainly, sir, I can. Pro. By what? by any other house, or person? Of any thing the image tell me, that Hath kept with thy remembrance. Mira. 'Tis far off; And rather like a dream than an assurance That this lives in thy mind? What seest thou else If thou remember'st aught, ere thou cam'st here, How thou cam'st here, thou may'st. Mira. Pro. Twelve years since, But that I do not. Miranda, twelve years since, thy father was * Quite. t Abyss. The duke of Milan, and a prince of power. Pro. Thy mother was a piece of virtue, and A princess ;-no worse issued. O, the heavens ! Mira. What foul play had we, that we came from thence? Or blessed was't we did?. 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 I pray thee, mark me,-that a brother should Without a parallel; those being all my study, The government I cast upon my brother, And to my state grew stranger, being transported, And wrapt in secret studies. Thy false uncleDost 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 trasht 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 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, 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, Made such a sinner of his memory, To credit his own lie,-he did believe 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 Mira. O the heavens ! Pro. Mark his condition, and the event; then I should sin If this might be a brother. Mira. To think but nobly of my grandmother: Pro. Now the condition. This king of Naples, being an enemy ; To me inveterate, hearkens my brother's suit The gates of Milan; and, i' the dead of darkness, 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 hintt, 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. That hour destroy us? Pro. Wherefore did they not 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. Bore us some leagues to sea; where they prepar'd • Consideration. + Suggestion. To cry to the sea that roar'd to us; to sigh Mira. Was I then to you! Pro. Alack! what trouble 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 stomacht, 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 Rich garments, linens, stuffs, and necessaries, ness, Knowing I lov'd my books, he furnish'd me, From my own library, with volumes that I prize above my dukedom. Mira. But ever see that man! Pro. 'Would I might Now I arise: Sit still, and hear the last of our sea-sorrow. Have I, thy school-master, made thee more profit Mira. Heavens thank you for't! And now, I pray you, sir, (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, • Sprinkled. + Stubborn resolution. |