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Journeys Through Bookland Volume Viii Part 30

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_Sebas._ A pox o' your throat, you bawling, blasphemous, incharitable dog!

_Boats._ Work you, then.

_Anto._ Hang, cur, hang! you insolent noisemaker, we are less afraid to be drown'd than thou art.

_Gonza._ I'll warrant him for drowning,[368-11] though the s.h.i.+p were no stronger than a nut-sh.e.l.l.

_Boats._ Lay her a-hold, a-hold! set her two courses![368-12] off to sea again: lay her off!



_Re-enter _Mariners,_ wet._

_Mariners._ All lost! to prayers, to prayers! all lost! [_Exeunt._

_Boats._ What, must our mouths be cold?

_Gonza._ The King and Prince at prayers! let us a.s.sist them, For our case is as theirs.

_Sebas._ I'm out of patience.

_Anto._ We're merely[368-13] cheated out of our lives by drunkards.

This wide-chopp'd rascal--would thou mightst lie drowning, The was.h.i.+ng of ten tides!

_Gonza._ He'll be hang'd yet, Though every drop of water swear against it, And gape at widest to glut[368-14] 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!

[_Exit_ Boatswain.

_Anto._ Let's all sink wi' th' King. [_Exit._

_Sebas._ Let's take leave of him. [_Exit._

_Gonza._ Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea for an acre of barren ground; ling, heath, broom, furze,[369-15] anything. The wills[369-16] 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._

_Mira._ 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 th' welkin's cheek,[369-1]

Dashes the fire out. O, I have suffer'd With those that I saw suffer! a brave[369-2] vessel, Who had no doubt some n.o.ble 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 G.o.d of power, I would Have sunk the sea within the earth, or e'er[369-3]

It should the good s.h.i.+p so have swallow'd, and The fraughting[370-4] souls within her.

_Pros._ Be collected; No more amazement:[370-5] tell your piteous heart There's no harm done.

_Mira._ O, woe the day!

_Pros._ 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, nought knowing Of whence I am; nor that I am more better[370-6]

Than Prospero, master of a full-poor cell, And thy no greater father.

_Mira._ More to know Did never meddle[370-7] with my thoughts.

_Pros._ 'Tis time I should inform thee further. Lend thy hand, And pluck my magic garment from me.--So: [_Lays down his robe._ Lie there, my art.[370-8]--Wipe thou thine eyes; have comfort.

The direful spectacle of the wreck, which touch'd The very virtue of compa.s.sion in thee, I have with such prevision in mine art So safely order'd, that there is no soul[370-9]-- No, not so much perdition as an 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.

[Ill.u.s.tration: TELL YOUR PITEOUS HEART]

_Mira._ You have often Begun to tell me what I am; but stopp'd And left me to a bootless inquisition,[372-10]

Concluding, _Stay, not yet_.

_Pros._ The hour's now come; The very minute bids thee ope thine ear: Obey, and be attentive. Canst thou remember A time before we came unto this cell?

I do not think thou canst; for then thou wast not Out[372-11] three years old.

_Mira._ Certainly, sir, I can.

_Pros._ 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 a.s.surance That my remembrance warrants. Had I not Four or five women once that tended me?

_Pros._ Thou hadst, and more, Miranda. But how is it That this lives in thy mind? What see'st thou else In the dark backward and abysm of time?

If thou remember'st aught ere thou camest here, How thou camest here, thou mayst.[372-12]

_Mira._ But that I do not.

_Pros._ Twelve year since, Miranda, twelve year since, Thy father was the Duke of Milan, and A prince of power.

_Mira._ Sir, are you not my father?

_Pros._ Thy mother was a piece of virtue, and She said thou wast my daughter; and thy father Was Duke of Milan; thou his only heir, A princess--no worse issued.

_Mira._ O the Heavens!

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

Or blessed was't we did?

_Pros._ Both, both, my girl: By foul play, as thou say'st, were we heaved thence; But blessedly holp[373-13] hither.

_Mira._ O, my heart bleeds To think o' the teen[373-14] that I have turn'd you to, Which is from my remembrance! Please you, further.[373-15]

_Pros._ My brother, and thy uncle, call'd Antonio,-- I pray thee, mark me;--that a brother should Be so perfidious!--he whom, next thyself, Of all the world I loved, and to him put The manage[373-16] of my State; as, at that time, Through all the signiories[373-17] it was the first, And Prospero the prime[373-18] Duke; being so reputed In dignity, and for the liberal arts Without a parallel: those being all my study, The government I cast upon my brother, And to my State grew stranger, being transported And rapt in secret studies. Thy false uncle,-- Dost thou attend me?

_Mira._ Sir, most heedfully.

_Pros._--Being once perfected how to grant suits, How to deny them; who[374-19] t' advance, and who To trash[374-20] for over-topping[374-21]--new-created The creatures that were mine, I say, or changed 'em, Or else new-form'd 'em; having both the key[374-22]

Of officer and office, set all hearts i' the State To what tune pleased his ear; that[374-23] now he was The ivy which had hid my princely trunk, And suck'd the verdure out on't. Thou attend'st not.

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Journeys Through Bookland Volume Viii Part 30 summary

You're reading Journeys Through Bookland. This manga has been translated by Updating. Author(s): Charles Herbert Sylvester. Already has 743 views.

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