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 busines Which now’s upon ‘s; 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! PROSPERO Now I arise.

[Puts on his mantle] Sit still, and hear the last of our sea-sorrow.