PROSPERO.
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 presently extirpate me and mine
Out of the dukedom, and confer fair Milan,
With all the honours on my brother: whereon,
A treacherous army levied, one midnight
Fated to th’ purpose, did Antonio open
The gates of Milan; and, i’ th’ dead of darkness,
The ministers for th’ purpose hurried thence
Me and thy crying self.
MIRANDA.
Alack, for pity!
I, not rememb’ring how I cried out then,
Will cry it o’er again: it is a hint
That wrings mine eyes to ’t.
PROSPERO.
Hear a little further,
And then I’ll bring thee to the present business
Which now’s upon us; without the which this story
Were most impertinent.
MIRANDA.
Wherefore did they not
That hour destroy us?
PROSPERO.
Well demanded, wench:
My tale provokes that question. Dear, they durst not,
So dear the love my people bore me, nor set
A mark so bloody on the business; but
With colours fairer painted their foul ends.
In few, they hurried us aboard a bark,
Bore us some leagues to sea, where they prepared
A rotten carcass of a butt, not rigg’d,
Nor tackle, sail, nor mast; the very rats
Instinctively have quit it. There they hoist us,
To cry to th’ sea, that roar’d to us; to sigh
To th’ winds, whose pity, sighing back again,
Did us but loving wrong.
MIRANDA.
Alack, what trouble
Was I then to you!
PROSPERO.
O, a cherubin
Thou wast that did preserve me. Thou didst smile,
Infused with a fortitude from heaven,
When I have deck’d the sea with drops full salt,
Under my burden groan’d: which rais’d in me
An undergoing stomach, to bear up
Against what should ensue.
MIRANDA.
How came we ashore?
PROSPERO.
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 design, did give us, with
Rich garments, linens, stuffs, and necessaries,
Which since have steaded 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.
MIRANDA.
Would I might
But ever see that man!