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GONZALO . He’ll be hang’d yet , Though every drop of water swear against it , And gape at wid’st to glut him . A confused noise within : “ Mercy on us ! ” — “ We split , we split ! ” — “ Farewell , my wife and children ! ” — “ Farewell , brother ! ” — “ We split , we split , we split ! ” ANTONIO . Let’s all sink wi ’ th ’ King . [ Exit . ] SEBASTIAN . Let’s take leave of him . [ Exit . ] GONZALO . Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea for an acre of barren ground . Long heath , brown furze , anything . The wills above be done ! but I would fain die a dry death . [ Exit . ] SCENE II . The Island . Before the cell of Prospero . Enter Prospero and Miranda . MIRANDA . If by your art , my dearest father , you have Put the wild waters in this roar , allay them . The sky , it seems , would pour down stinking pitch , But that the sea , mounting to th ’ welkin’s cheek , Dashes the fire out . O ! I have suffered With those that I saw suffer ! A brave vessel , Who had , no doubt , some noble creature in her , Dash’d all to pieces . O , the cry did knock Against my very heart . Poor souls , they perish’d . Had I been any god of power , I would Have sunk the sea within the earth , or ere It should the good ship so have swallow’d and The fraughting souls within her . PROSPERO . Be collected : No 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 wrack , 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 anything 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 ?
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