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The Tempest.
3
Good wombes haue borne bad sonnes.
Pro.Now the Condition.This King of Naples being an EnemyTo me inueterate, hearkens my Brothers suit,Which was, That he in lieu o'th' premises,Of homage, and I know not how much Tribute,Should presently extirpate me and mineOut of the Dukedome, and confer faire MillaineWith all the Honors, on my brother: WhereonA treacherous Armie leuied, one mid-nightFated to th' purpose, did Anthonio openThe gates of Millaine, and ith' dead of darkenesseThe ministers for th' purpose hurried thenceMe, and thy crying selfe.
Mir.Alack, for pitty:I not remembring how I cride out thenWill cry it ore againe: it is a hintThat wrings mine eyes too't.
Pro.Heare a little further,And then I'le bring thee to the present businesseWhich now's vpon's: without the which, this StoryWere most impertinent.
Mir.Wherefore did they notThat howre destroy us?
Pro.Well demanded, wench:My Tale prouokes that question: Deare, they durst not,So deare the loue my people bore me: nor setA marke so bloudy on the businesse; butWith colours fairer, painted their foule ends.In few, they hurried vs a-boord a Barke,Bore vs some Leagues to Sea, where they preparedA rotten carkasse of a Butt, not rigg'd,Nor tackle, sayle, nor mast, the very ratsInstinctiuely haue quit it: There they hoyst vsTo cry to th' Sea, that roard to vs; to sighTo th' windes, whose pitty sighing backe againeDid vs but louing wrong.
Mir.Alack, what troubleWas I then to you?
Pro. O, a CherubinThou was't that did preserue me; Thou didst smile,Infused with a fortitude from heauen,When I haue deck'd the sea with drops full salt,Vnder my burthen groan'd, which rais'd in meAn undergoing stomacke, to beare vpAgainst what should ensue.
Mir.How came we a shore?
Pro.By providence divine,Some food, we had, and some fresh water, thatA noble Neapolitan GonzaloOut of his Charity, (who being then appointedMaster of this designe) did giue vs, withRich garments, linnens, stuffs, and necessariesWhich since haue steeded much, so of his gentlenesseKnowing I lou'd my bookes, he furnishd meFrom mine owne Library, with volumes, thatI prize aboue my Dukedome.
Mir.Would I mightBut ever see that man.
Pro.Now I arise,Sit still, and heare the last of our sea-sorrow:Heere in this Iland we arriu'd, and heereHaue I, thy Schoolemaster, made thee more profitThen other Princesse can, that haue more timeFor vainer howres; and Tutors, not so carefull.
Mir.Heuens thank you for't. And now I pray you Sir,For still 'tis beating in my minde; your reasonFor raysing this Sea-storme?
Pro. Know thus far forth,By accident most strange, bountifull Fortune(Now my deere Lady) hath mine enemiesBrought to this shore: And by my prescienceI finde my Zenith doth depend vponA most auspitious starre, whose influenceIf now I court not, but omit; my fortunesWill euer after droope: Heare cease more questions,Thou art inclinde to sleepe: 'tis a good dulnesse,And giue it way: I know thou canst not chuse:Come away, Seruant, come; I am ready now,Approach my Ariel. Come.
Enter Ariel.
Ari. All haile, great Master, graue Sir, haile: I comeTo answer thy best pleasure; be't to fly,To swim, to diue into the fire: to rideOn the curld clowds: to thy strong bidding, taskeAriel, and all his Qualitie.
Pro. Hast thou, Spirit,Performd to point, the Tempest that I bad thee.
Ar. To euery Article.I boorded the Kings ship: now on the Beake,Now in the Waste, the Decke, in euery Cabyn,I flam'd amazement, sometime I'ld diuideAnd burne in many places; on the Top-mast,The Yards and Bore-spritt, would I flame distinctly,Then meete, and ioyne. Ioues Lightning, the precursersO'th dreadfull Thunder-claps more momentarieAnd sight out-running were not; the fire, and cracksOf sulphurous roaring, the most mighty NeptuneSeeme to besiege, and make his bold waues tremble,Yea, his dread Trident shake.
Pro. My braue Spirit,Who was so firme, so constant, that this coyleWould not infect his reason?
Ar. Not a souleBut felt a Feauer of the madde, and plaidSome tricks of desperation; all but MarinersPlung'd in the foaming bryne, and quit the vessell;Then all a fire with me the Kings sonne FerdinandWith haire vp-staring (then like reeds, not haire)Was the first man that leapt; cride hell is empty,And all the Diuels are heere.
Pro. Why that's my spirit:But was not this nye shore?
Ar. C ose by, my Master.
Pro. But are they (Ariell) safe?
Ar. Not a haire perishd:On their sustaining garments not a blemish,But fresher then before: and as thou badst me,In troops I haue dispersd them 'bout the Isle:The Kings sonne haue I landed by himselfe,Whom I left cooling of the Ayre with sighes,In an odde Angle of the Isle, and sittingHis armes in this sad knot.
Pro. Of the Kings ship,The Marriners, say how thou hast disposd,And all the rest o'th'Fleete?
Ar. Safely in harbourIs the Kings shippe, in the deepe Nooke, where onceThou calldst me vp at midnight to fetch deweFrom the still-vext Bermoothes, there she's hid;The Marriners all vnder hatches stowed,Who, with a Charme ioynd to their suffred labourI haue left asleep: and for the rest o'th' Fleet
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