“As great to me; for I have lost my daughter.”
“A daughter?” cried Alonso. “Oh, would that they were both living in Naples as King and Queen! When did you lose your daughter?”
“In this last tempest,” said Prospero, smiling to himself. “But come, no more of this. Welcome, sir; this cell is my court. I have few attendants here, and no subjects abroad. Pray you, look in. Since you have given me back my dukedom, I will reward you with something equally good, or, at least, show you a wonder which will content you as much as my dukedom does me.”
And, drawing aside the curtain which veiled the entrance to his cell, Prospero disclosed to view Ferdinand and Miranda playing at chess.
“Sweet lord, you play me false,” said Miranda.
“No, my dearest love, I would not for the world,” said Ferdinand.
“If this prove a vision of the island, I shall lose my dear son a second time,” murmured Alonso.
“A most high miracle!” exclaimed Sebastian.
“Though the seas threaten, they are merciful,” cried Ferdinand, springing from his seat at the sight of his father, and falling on his knees before him.
“Now all the blessings of a glad father compass thee about,” said Alonso, overcome with joy to see his dear son again.