lower; bring her to try with main-course. [a cry within.] A plague upon this howling! they are louder than the weather, or our office. Re-enter SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, and GONZALO. Yet again? what do you here? Shall we give o'er, and drown? Have you a mind to sink? Seb. A pox o' your throat! you bawling, blasphemous, incharitable dog! Boat. Work you, then. Ant. Hang, cur, hang! you whoreson, insolent noise-maker, we are less afraid to be drowned than thou art. Gon. I'll warrant him from drowning; though the ship were no stronger than a nut-shell, and as leaky as an unstanched wench. Boat. Lay her a-hold, a-hold; 1 set her two courses; off to sea again, lay her off. Enter MARINERS wet. Mar. All lost! to prayers, to prayers! all lost! Boat. What, must our mouths be cold? [Exeunt. Gon. The king and prince at prayers! let us assist them, For our case is as theirs. Seb. I am out of patience. 1 To lay a ship a-hold, is to bring her to lie as near the wind as she can, in order to keep clear of the land, and get her out to sea. Ant. We are merely 1 cheated of our lives by drunkards. This wide-chapp'd rascal;-'Would thou mightst lie drowning, The washing of ten tides! He'll be hang'd yet; Though every drop of water swear against it, And gape at widest to glut him. [a confused noise within.] Mercy on us! - We split, we split!-Farewell, my wife and children!Farewell, brother! We split, we split, we split!Ant. Let's all sink with the king. [Exit. Seb. Let's take leave of him. [Exit. Gon. Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea 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 II, The island: before the cell of Prospero. Enter PROSPERO and MIRANDA. Mir. If by your art, my dearest father, you have Put the wild waters in this roar, allay them : The sky, it seems, would pour down stinking pitch, But that the sea, mounting to the welkin's cheek, Dashes the fire out. O, I have suffer'd With those that I saw suffer! a brave vessel, Who had no doubt some noble creatures in her, Dash'd all to pieces. O, the cry did knock Against my very heart! Poor souls! they perish'd. Had I been any god of power, I would Have sunk the sea within the earth, or e'er 1 It should the good ship so have swallow'd, and Pro. Be collected; No more amazement: tell your piteous heart, There's no harm done. Mir. Pro. O, woe the day! No harm. I have done nothing but in care of thee, (Of thee, my dear one! thee, my daughter!) who Art ignorant of what thou art, naught knowing Of whence I am; nor that I am more better Than Prospero, master of a full poor cell,3 And thy no greater father. Mir. More to know Did never meddle 4 with my thoughts. Pro. 'Tis time I should inform thee further. Lend thy hand, Before. So in our author's Cymbeline : or e'er I could Give him that parting kiss. 2 This ungrammatical expression is very frequent among our oldest writers. 3 A cell in a great degree of poverty. So in Antony and Cleopatra, I am full sorry;' or, as we sometimes say, 'full well.' 4 Mix. The modern and familiar phrase, by which that of Miranda may be explained, is, 'never entered my thoughts.' And pluck my magic garment from me.-So; [lays down his mantle. Lie there my art. - Wipe thou thine eyes; have comfort. The direful spectacle of the wreck, which touch'd The very virtue 1 of compassion in thee, I have with such provision in mine art No, not so much perdition as a hair, Betid to any creature in the vessel Which thou heard'st cry, which thou saw'st sink. Sit down; For thou must now know further. Mir. You have ofter Begun to tell me what I am; but stopp'd Concluding, Stay, not yet.' Pro. The hour's now come; The very minute bids thee ope thine ear: I do not think thou canst; for then thou wast not Out 3 three years old. Mir. 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. Mir. 'Tis far off; 1 The essence, the most efficacious part. Useless inquiry. And rather like a dream, than an assurance Pro. Thou hadst, and more, Miranda. But how is it, That this lives in thy mind? What seest thou else In the dark backward and abysm 1 of time? If thou remember'st aught, ere thou camest here, How thou camest here thou mayst. Mir. But that I do not. Pro. Twelve years since, Miranda, twelve years since, Thy father was the duke of Milan, and A prince of power. Mir. Sir, are not you my father? Pro. Thy mother was a piece of virtue, and She said thou wast my daughter; and thy father Was duke of Milan; and his only heir A princess;-no worse issued. Mir. O the heavens! 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 heaved thence, But blessedly holp hither. Mir. O, my heart bleeds To think o' the teen that I have turn'd you to, Which is from my remembrance! Please you, further. Abyss. * Sorrow. |