PROSPERO.
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.
ALONSO.
You the like loss!
PROSPERO.
As great to me, as late; and, supportable
To make the dear loss, have I means much weaker
Than you may call to comfort you, for I
Have lost my daughter.
ALONSO.
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?
PROSPERO.
In this last tempest. I perceive, these lords
At this encounter do so much admire
That they devour their reason, and scarce think
Their eyes do offices of truth, their words
Are natural breath; 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 wrack’d, was landed
To be the lord on’t. No more yet of this;
For ’tis a chronicle of day by day,
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 have 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.
Here Prospero discovers Ferdinand and Miranda playing at chess.
MIRANDA.
Sweet lord, you play me false.
FERDINAND.
No, my dearest love,
I would not for the world.
MIRANDA.
Yes, for a score of kingdoms you should wrangle,
And I would call it fair play.
ALONSO.
If this prove
A vision of the island, one dear son
Shall I twice lose.