Pros. Now,
For you, most wicked sir, whom to call brother
Would even infect my mouth, I do forgive
Thy rankest fault; all of them; and require
My dukedom of thee, which perforce, I know,
Thou must restore.
Alon. If thou be’st Prospero,
Give us particulars of thy preservation;
How thou hast met us here, who three hours since
Were wreck’d upon this shore; where I have lost—
How sharp the point of this remembrance is!—
My dear son Ferdinand.
Pros. I’m woe[457-32] for’t, sir.
Alon. Irreparable is the loss; and patience
Says it is past her cure.
Pros. I rather think
You have not sought her help; of whose soft grace,
For the like loss I have her sovereign aid,
And rest myself content.
Alon. You the like loss!
Pros. As great to me, as late;[458-33] and, portable
To make the dear loss, have I means much weaker
Than you may call to comfort you; for I
Have lost my daughter.
Alon. A daughter!
O Heavens, that they were living both in Naples,
The King and Queen there! that they were, I wish
Myself were mudded in that oozy bed
Where my son lies. When did you lose your daughter?
Pros. In this last tempest. I perceive, these lords
At this encounter do so much admire,[458-34]
That they devour their reason, and scarce think
Their eyes do offices of truth, these words
Are natural breath:[458-35] but, howsoe’er you have
Been justled from your senses, know for certain
That I am Prospero, and that very Duke
Which was thrust forth of Milan; who most strangely
Upon this shore, where you were wreck’d, was landed
To be the lord on’t. No more yet[458-36] of this;
For ’tis a chronicle of day by day,[458-37]
Not a relation for a breakfast, nor
Befitting this first meeting. Welcome, sir;
This cell’s my Court: here have I few attendants,
And subjects none abroad: pray you, look in.
My dukedom since you’ve given me again,
I will requite you with as good a thing;
At least bring forth a wonder to content ye
As much as me my dukedom.
The entrance of the Cell opens, and discovers Ferdinand and Miranda playing at chess.