MIRANDA.
If by your art (my dearest father) you have
Put the wild waters in this roar, allay them.
O! I have suffer'd with those I saw suffer.
Had I been any god of pow'r, I would
Have sunk the sea within the earth, or e'er
It should the goodly ship have swallow'd, and
The freighting souls within her.

AIR.
Hark how the winds rush from their caves,
Hark how old ocean frets and raves,
From their deep roots the rocks be tears;
  Whole deluges lets fly,
  That dash against the sky,
  And seem to drown the stars.

PROSPERO.
Tell your piteous heart, there's no harm done;
I have done nothing, but in care of thee,
My child, who art ignorant of what thou art;
But I will now inform thee—pray attend:
'Tis twelve years since thy father was the duke
Of Milan—be not amaz'd, my daughter;
Thou art a princess of no less issue.

MIRANDA.
O the heav'ns, what foul play had we!

PROSPERO.
Mark me well.
I then neglecting worldly ends, all dedicated
To study, and the bettering of my mind,
Did cast the government on my brother,
Call'd Anthonio.—He, from substitution,
And executing the outward face of
Royalty, with all prerogative, did
Believe he was indeed the duke; hence his
Ambition growing, he confederates

With the king of Naples, my inveterate foe,
Who, for homage and certain tribute, agrees
To extirpate me from my dukedom, and
To confer fair Milan on my brother:
This settled, and an army levy'd; one night,
Fated to the purpose, did Anthonio open
The gates of Milan, and i'th' dead of darkness,
The ministers for the purpose, hurry'd thence
Me, and thy crying self; in fine, they forc'd us
Out to sea, in a rotten unrigg'd boat,
Where they left us to the mercy of the winds.
AIR.
In pity, Neptune smooths the liquid way,
Obsequious Tritons on the surface play,
And sportful dolphins with a nimble glance,
To the bright sun their glitt'ring scales advance.
In oozy bed profound the billows sleep,
No clamorous winds awake the silent deep;
With safety thro' the sea our boat is bore.
In gentle gales we're wasted to the shore.
Here in this island we arriv'd, and here
Have I, thy school-master, made thee more profit
Than other princes can, who have more time
For vainer hours, and tutors not so careful.

MIRANDA.
Heav'n thank you for't!

PROSPERO.
Know further, that fortune,
Now grown bountiful to this shore, hath brought
Mine enemies; and, by my prescience,
I find my zenith doth depend upon
A most propitious star, whose influence
If now I court not, but omit, my fortunes
Will ever after drop.—
Thou art inclin'd to sleep; 'tis a good dulness,
And give it way; I know thou can'st not chuse.
AIR. MIRANDA.
Come, O sleep, my eyelids close,
Lull my soul to soft repose.

PROSPERO.
Approach, my Ariel.

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