Уильям Шекспир

The Tempest


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more amazement; tell your piteous heart

          There's no harm done.

        MIRANDA. O, woe the day!

        PROSPERO. No harm.

          I have done nothing but in care of thee,

          Of thee, my dear one, thee, my daughter, who

          Art ignorant of what thou art, nought knowing

          Of whence I am, nor that I am more better

          Than Prospero, master of a full poor cell,

          And thy no greater father.

        MIRANDA. More to know

          Did never meddle with my thoughts.

        PROSPERO. 'Tis time

          I should inform thee farther. Lend thy hand,

          And pluck my magic garment from me. So,

                                                [Lays down his mantle]

          Lie there my art. Wipe thou thine eyes; have comfort.

          The direful spectacle of the wreck, which touch'd

          The very virtue of compassion in thee,

          I have with such provision in mine art

          So safely ordered that there is no soul-

          No, not so much perdition as an hair

          Betid to any creature in the vessel

          Which thou heard'st cry, which thou saw'st sink.

          Sit down, for thou must now know farther.

        MIRANDA. You have often

          Begun to tell me what I am; but stopp'd,

          And left me to a bootless inquisition,

          Concluding 'Stay; not yet.'

        PROSPERO. The hour's now come;

          The very minute bids thee ope thine ear.

          Obey, and be attentive. Canst thou remember

          A time before we came unto this cell?

          I do not think thou canst; for then thou wast not

          Out three years old.

        MIRANDA. Certainly, sir, I can.

        PROSPERO. By what? By any other house, or person?

          Of any thing the image, tell me, that

          Hath kept with thy remembrance?

        MIRANDA. 'Tis far off,

          And rather like a dream than an assurance

          That my remembrance warrants. Had I not

          Four, or five, women once, that tended me?

        PROSPERO. Thou hadst, and more, Miranda. But how is it

          That this lives in thy mind? What seest thou else

          In the dark backward and abysm of time?

          If thou rememb'rest aught, ere thou cam'st here,

          How thou cam'st here thou mayst.

        MIRANDA. But that I do not.

        PROSPERO. Twelve year since, Miranda, twelve year since,

          Thy father was the Duke of Milan, and

          A prince of power.

        MIRANDA. Sir, are not you my father?

        PROSPERO. Thy mother was a piece of virtue, and

          She said thou wast my daughter; and thy father

          Was Duke of Milan, and his only heir

          And princess no worse issued.

        MIRANDA. O, the heavens!

          What foul play had we that we came from thence?

          Or blessed was't we did?

        PROSPERO. Both, both, my girl.

          By foul play, as thou say'st, were we heav'd thence;

          But blessedly holp hither.

        MIRANDA. O, my heart bleeds

          To think o' th' teen that I have turn'd you to,

          Which is from my remembrance. Please you, farther.

        PROSPERO. My brother and thy uncle, call'd Antonio-

          I pray thee, mark me that a brother should

          Be so perfidious. He, whom next thyself

          Of all the world I lov'd, and to him put

          The manage of my state; as at that time

          Through all the signories it was the first,

          And Prospero the prime duke, being so reputed

          In dignity, and for the liberal arts

          Without a parallel, those being all my study-

          The government I cast upon my brother

          And to my state grew stranger, being transported

          And rapt in secret studies. Thy false uncle-

          Dost thou attend me?

        MIRANDA. Sir, most heedfully.

        PROSPERO. Being once perfected how to grant suits,

          How to deny them, who t' advance, and who

          To trash for over-topping, new created

          The creatures that were mine, I say, or chang'd 'em,

          Or else new form'd 'em; having both the key

          Of officer and office, set all hearts i' th' state

          To what tune pleas'd his ear; that now he was

          The ivy which had hid my princely trunk

          And suck'd my verdure out on't. Thou attend'st not.

        MIRANDA. O, good sir, I do!

        PROSPERO. I pray thee, mark me.

          I thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicated

          To closeness and the bettering of my mind

          With that which, but by being so retir'd,

          O'er-priz'd all popular rate, in my false brother

          Awak'd an evil nature; and my trust,

          Like a good parent, did beget of him

          A falsehood, in its contrary as great

          As my trust was; which had indeed no limit,

          A confidence sans bound. He being thus lorded,

          Not only with what my revenue yielded,

          But what my power might else exact, like one

          Who having into truth, by telling of it,

          Made such a sinner of his memory,

          To credit his own lie-he did believe

          He was indeed the Duke; out o' th' substitution,

          And executing th' outward face of royalty

          With