ALONZO.
All torment, trouble, wonder, and amazement,
Inhabits here: some heav'nly powers guide us
Out of this fearful country—

PROSPERO.
Behold, sir, king,
The wrong'd duke of Milan, Prospero:
For more assurance that a living prince
Does now speak to thee, I embrace thy body,
And bid thee welcome!

ALONZO.
Be'st thou he, or no,
Or some inchanted trifle to abuse,
As late I have been, I know not. Thy pulse
Beats as of flesh and blood; and, since I saw thee,
Th' afflictions of my mind amends: this must crave
(And, if this be all, a most strange story)
Thy dukedom I resign, and do intreat
Thou pardon me my wrongs. But how should he
Be living, and be here?

PROSPERO.
You all yet taste
Some subtilties o' th' isle, that will not let you
Believe things certain: welcome, my friends all.
For you, most wicked sir, whom to call brother,
Would ev'n infect my mouth, I do forgive
Thy rankest faults. Know for certain, my friends,
That I am Prosp'ro, and that very duke
Who was thrust forth of Milan:
No more of this;
For 'tis a chronicle of day by day,
Not fitting our first meeting. Alonzo,
I'll shew thee a wonder to content thee
As much as me my dukedom: follow me. Exeunt.

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