I thus neglecting worldly Ends, all dedicated To Clofeness, and the bettering of my Mind With that which but by being retired O'er-priz'd all popular rate; in my false 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 Confidence fans bound. He being thus Lorded, Not only with what my Revenue yielded, But what my Power might elle exact; like one Who having into Truth, by telling of it, Made fuch a Sinner of his Memory
To credit his own Lie, he did believe He was indeed the Duke, out o'th' Substitution 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 Screen between this Part he plaid, And him he plaid it for; he needs will be Abfolute Millan; me, poor Man, my Library Was Dukedom large enough; of temporal Royalties He thinks me now incapable. Confederates (So dry he was for Sway) wi' th' King of Naples To give him annual Tribute, do him Homage, Subject his Coronet to his Crown, and bend The Dukedom yet unbow'd (alas poor Millan!) To much ignoble ftooping.
Pro. Mark his Condition, and th' Event, then tell me If this might be a Brother.
To think but nobly of my Grand-mother;
Good Wombs have born bad Sons.
Pro. Now the Condition:
This King of Naples being an Enemy
To me inveterate, hearkens my Brother's Suit; 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 coner fair Millan, 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 Millan, and i'th' dead of Darkness The Minifter for th'Purpose hurry'd thenc Me, and thy crying self. 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. Here 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.
Mira. Wherefore did they not
That Hour destroy us?
Por. Well demanded, Wench;
My Tale provokes that Question. Dear, they durft not; So dear the Love my People bore me: Nor fet A Mark fo bloody on the Bufinels; 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, nor Sail, nor Maft; the very Rats Inftinctively had quit it: There they hoift us To cry to th❜Sea 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 deck'd the Sea with Drops full falt, Under my Burthen groan'd, which rais'd in me An undergoing Stomach, to bear up
Against what should enfue.
Mira. How came we a-fhore?
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 Master of this Defign) did give us, with
Rich Garments, Linnens, Stuffs, and Neceffaries Which fince have fteeded much. So of his Gentleness, Knowing I lov'd my Books, he furnish'd me
From mine own Library, with Volumes, that I prize above my Dukedom.
Mir. Would I might
But ever fee that Man.
Pro. Now I arife,
Sit ftill, and hear the last of our Sea-forrow. Here in this Inland 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 so careful.
Mira. Heav'ns thank you for't. And now I pray you, Sir, (For ftill 'tis beating in my Mind) your Reafon
For raifing this Sea-ftorm?
Pro. Know thus far forth,
By Accident moft ftrange, bountiful Fortune (Now my dear Lady) hath mine Enemies Brought to this Shore: And by my Prefcience I find, my Zenith doth depend upon A moft aufpitious Star, 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 Dulness, And give it way; I know thou canst not chufe. Come away, Servant, come; I am ready now, Approach, my Ariel. Come.
Ari. All hail, great Mafter, grave Sir, hail! I come To anfwer thy beft Pleafure. Be it 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 Quality.
Perform'd to point the Tempeft that I bad thee? Ari. To every Article.
I boarded the King's Ship: Now on the Beak, Now in the Wafte, the Deck, in every Cabin, I flam'd Amazement. Sometimes I'ld divide, And burn in many Places; on the Top-maft, The Yards and Bolt-fprit, would I flame diftinctly, Then meet, and join. Jove's Lightning, the Precurfers O'th' dreadful Thunder-claps more momentary And Sight out-running were not; the Fire and Cracks Of fulphurous roaring, the moft mighty Neptune Seem to befiege, and make his bold Waves tremble, Yea, his dread Trident shake.
Who was fo firm, fo conftant, that this Coyl Would not infect his Reafon?
But felt a Feaver of the mad, 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 Son Ferdinand With Hair up-ftaring (then like Reeds, not Hair) Was the first Man that leapt; cry'd Hell is empty, and All the Devils are here.
Pro. Why that's my Spirit.
But was not this nigh Shore? Ari. Close by, my Mafter. Pro. But are they, Ariel, fafe? Ari. Nota Hair perished:
On their fuftaining Garments not a Blemish, But fresher than before. And as thou badft me, In Troops I have difpers'd them 'bout the Ifle: The King's Son have I landed by himself, Whom I left cooling of the Air with Sighs, In an odd Angle of the Ifle, and fitting, His Arms in this fad Knot.
Pro. Of the King's Ship,
The Mariners, fay how thou haft difpos'd, And all the reft o'th' Fleet?
Ari. Safely in Harbour,
Is the King's Ship; in the deep Nook, where once Thou call'dft me up at Midnight, to fetch Dew From the ftill-vext Bermoothes, there she's hid:
The Mariners all under Hatches ftowed,
Who, with a Charm join'd to their fuffered Labour, I have left afleep; and for the reft 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 Ship wrackt, And his great Perfon perish.
Pro. Ariel, thy Charge
Exactly is perform'd; but there's more Work: What is the Time o'th' Day?
Ari. Paft the mid Seafon.
Pro. At least two Glaffes: The time 'twixt fix and now Muft by us both be spent most preciously.
Ari. Is there more Toil? Since thou doft give me Pains, Let me remember thee what thou haft promis'd.
Which is not yet perform'd me.
Pro. How now? moodie?
What is't thou canft demand?
Ari. My Liberty.
Pro. Before the time be out? No more.
Remember I have done thee worthy Service,
Told thee no Lies, made thee no Mistakings, ferv'd Without or Grudge, or Grumblings; thou didst promife
To bate me a full Year.
Pro. Doft thou forget
From what a Torment I did free thee?
Pro. Thou doft; and thinkeft it much to tread the
Ooze of the falt Deep;
To run upon the fharp Wind of the North,
To do me Bufinefs in the Veins o'th' Earth
When it is bak'd with Froft,
Ari. I do not, Sir.
Pra. Thou lieft, malignant Thing: Haft thou forgot The foul Witch Sycorax, who with Age and Envy Was grown into a Hoop? Haft thou forgot her?
Pro. Thou haft: where was the born? fpeak; tell me, Ari. Sir, in Argier.
Pro. Oh, was the fo: I muft
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