Boat Lay her a-hold, a-hold; fet her two courfes off to fea again, lay her off.

Enter Mariners wet.

Mar All loft! to prayers, to prayers! all loft! [Exeunt.
Boat. What, muft our mouths be cold?

Gon. The King and Prince at pray'rs! let us affist 'em. For our cafe is as theirs.

Seb. I'm out of patience..

Ant. We're meerly cheated of our lives by drunkards. This wide-chopt rafcalWould, thou might'ft lye drowning,

The washing of ten tides!

Gon. He'll be hang'd yet,

Though every drop of water fwear against it,

And gape at wid't to glut him.

[A confufed noife within.] Mercy on us!

We fplit, we fplit! Farewel, my Wife and Children!
Brother, farewel! we fplit, we fplit, we split!

Ant. Let's all fink with the King.

Seb. Let's take leave of him.

[Exit.

Exit.

Gon. Now would I give a thoufand furlongs of fea for an Acre of barren ground, long heath, brown furze, any thing; the wills above be done, but I would fain die a dry death!

[Exit.

SCENE changes to a Part of the Inchanted Island, near the Cell of Profpero

Mira.

I'

Enter Profpero and Miranda..

F by your art (my deareft father) you have
Put the wild waters in this roar, allay them:
The sky, it seems, would pour down ftinking pitch,
But that the fea, mounting to th'welkin's cheek,
Dafhes the fire out. O! I have fuffer'd
With thofe that I faw fuffer: a brave veffel
(Who had, no doubt, fome noble creatures in her)
Dafh'd all to pieces. O! the cry did knock

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Against

Against my very heart: poor fouls, they perifh'd
Had I been any God of Pow'r, I would
Have funk the fea within the earth; or ere
It should the good fhip fo have swallow'd, and
The fraighting fouls within her.

Pro. Be collected; pop

No more amazement; tell
There's no harm done.
Mira. O wo the day!

Pro. No harm.

your piteous heart,

I have done nothing but in care of thee,
(Of thee my dear one, thee my daughter) who
Art ignorant of what thou art, nought knowing
Of whence I am; nor that I am more better
Than Profpera, mafter of a full-poor cell,
And thy no greater father.

Mira. More to know

Did never meddle with my thoughts.
Pro. 'Tis time,

I fhould inform thee farther. Lend thy hand,

And pluck my magick garment from me; fo!

[Lays down his mantle. Lye there my Art. Wipe thou thine eyes, have comfort.

The direful fpectacle of the wreck, which touch'd

The very virtue of compaffion in thee,

I have with fuch provision in mine art

So fafely order'd, that there is no foyle, (1)
No, not fo much perdition as an hair,

Betid to any creature in the vessel

Which thou heard'ft cry, which thou faw'ft fink: fit down;

For thou muft now know farther.

Mira. You have often

(1) is no Foyle,] . e. no. Damage, Lofs, Detriment. The two old Folio's read,---- is no Souls which will not agree in Grammar with the following Part of the Sentence. Mr. Rowe firft fubftituted no Soul loft, which does not much mend the Matter, taking the Context together. Foyle is a Word familiar with our Poet, and in fome Degree fynonymous to Perdition in the next Line,

Begun

Begun to tell me what I am, but stopt,
And left me to a bootlefs inquifition;
Concluding, Stay; not yet.-

Pro. The hour's now come,
The very minute bids thee

ope thine ear;

Obey, and be attentive. Canft thou remember
A time, before we came unto this cell?

I do not think, thou canst; for then thou waft not
Out three years old. (2)

Mira. Certainly, Sir, I can.

Pro. By what? by any other house, or person? Of any thing the image tell me, that

Hath kept in thy remembrance.

Mira. 'Tis far off;

And rather like a dream, than an affurance

That my

Four, or five, women once, that tended me?

Pro. Thou hadft, and more, Miranda: but how is it,
That this lives in thy mind? what feest thou else
In the dark back-ward and abyfme of time?

If thou remember'ft aught, ere thou cam'st here;
How thou cam'ft here, thou may'st.

Mira. But that I do not.

Pro. 'Tis twelve years fince, Miranda; twelve years fince,

Thy father was the Duke of Milan, and

A Prince of Pow'r.

Mira. Sir, are not you my father?

Pro. Thy mother was a piece of virtue, and She faid, thou waft my daughter; and thy father Was Duke of Milan, and his only heir

A Princefs, no worse issu’d.

Mira. O the heav'ns!

What foul play had we, that we came from thence?

Or bleffed was't, we did ?

Pro. Both, both, my girl:

(2) Out three years old.] This is the old Reading: 'tis true, the Expreffion is obfolete, but it fupply'd the Senfe of, full out, out-right, or right-out.

By foul play (as thou fay'ft) were we heav'd thence; But bleffedly help'd hither.

Mira. O, my heart bleeds,

To think o'th' teene that I have turn'd you to,

Which is from my remembrance. Plcafe you, farther.
Pro. My brother, and thy uncle, call'd Anthonio

I

pray thee, mark me;-(that a brother should

Be fo perfidious!) he whom next thyfelf

Of all the world I lov'd, and to him put
The manage of my state; (as, at that time,
Through all the fignories it was the first;
And Profpero the prime Duke, being fo reputed
In dignity; and for the liberal arts,

Without a parallel; thofe being all my study:)
The government I caft upon my brother,

And to my fate grew ftranger; being tranfported,
And rapt in fecret ftudies. Thy falfe uncle-
(Poft thou attend me?)

Mira. Sir, most heedfully.

Pro. Being once perfected how to grant fuits, How to deny them; whom t'advance, and whom

To trafh for over-topping; new-created

The creatures, that were mine; I fay, or chang'd 'em, Or elfe new form'd 'em; having both the key

Of officer and office, fet all hearts i’th' state

To what tune pleas'd his ear; that now he was
The ivy, which had hid my princely trunk,
And fuckt my verdure out on't.-Thou attend'st not
Mira. Good Sir, I do.

Pro. I pray thee, mark me then.

I thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicated
To clofenefs, and the bettering of my mind,
With that which, but by being fo retired,
O'er priz'd' all popular rate, in my falfe brother
Awak'd an evil nature; and my truft,
Like a good parent, did beget of him
A falfhood in its contrary as great

As my truft was; which had, indeed, no limit,
A confident fans bound. He being thus lorded,
Not only with what my Revenue yielded,

But

But what my power might elfe exact; like one,
Who having into truth, by telling of it,
Made fuch a finner of his memory,

To credit his own lie, he did believe
He was, indeed, the Duke; from fubftitution,
And executing th'outward face of royalty,
With all prerogative. Hence his ambition growing

Doft thou hear?

Mira. Your tale, Sir, would cure deafness.

Pro. To have no fcreen between this part he plaid, And him he plaid it for, he needs will be

Abfolute Milan. Me, poor man!my library
Was Dukedom large enough; of temporal royalties
He thinks me now incapable: confederates
(So dry he was for fway) wi'th' King of Naples
To give him annual tribute, do him homage;
Subject his coronet to his
and bend
crown;
The Dukedom, yet unbow'd, (alas, poor Milan!)

To moft ignoble stooping.

Mira. O the heav'ns

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

Tira. I should' fin,

(3)

To think but nobly of my grandmother;
Good wombs have bore bad fons. (4)

(3)

-1 fhould fin,

To think not nobly of my grandmother ;] This is Mr. Pope's reading, from no Authority, I prefume: All the Copies that I have feen, have it; To think but nobly en otherwife than nobly; according to our Author's Utage.

(4) Good Wombs bave bore bad Sons."

Pro. Now, the Condition] Thus have all the Editions divided thefe Speeches; But, tho' I have not attempted to regulate them otherwife, I have great Sufpicion, that our Author plac'd them' thus;

Now, the Condition

Pro. Good Wombs have bore bad Sons. How could Miranda, that came into this Defert Island an Infant, that had never feen any other Creatures of the World, but her Father and Caliban, with any Propriety be furnishiá

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