1 Good wombs have borne bad sons.
2 I have great comfort from this fellow.
3 If by your art, my dearest father, you have Put the wild waters in this roar, allay them.
4 To have no screen between this part he played And him he played it for, he needs will be Absolute Milan.
5 You have often Begun to tell me what I am, but stopped And left me to a bootless inquisition, Concluding "Stay."
6 I prithee, Remember I have done thee worthy service, Told thee no lies, made no mistakings, served Without or grudge or grumblings.
7 If you cannot, give thanks you have lived so long, and make yourself ready in your cabin for the mischance of the hour, if it so hap.
8 On their sustaining garments not a blemish, But fresher than before; and, as thou bad'st me, In troops I have dispersed them 'bout the isle.'
9 The King's son have I landed by himself, Whom I left cooling of the air with sighs In an odd angle of the isle, and sitting, His arms in this sad knot.
10 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 swallowed, and The fraughting souls within her.
11 Here in this island we arrived, and here Have I, thy schoolmaster, made thee more profit Than other princes can, that have more time For vainer hours and tutors not so careful.
12 In few, they hurried us aboard a bark, Bore us some leagues to sea, where they prepared A rotten carcass of a butt, not rigged, Nor tackle, sail, nor mast; the very rats Instinctively have quit it.
13 Thou didst smile, Infused with a fortitude from heaven, When I have decked the sea with drops full salt, Under my burden groaned, which raised in me An undergoing stomach to bear up Against what should ensue.
14 In the deep nook, where once Thou called'st me up at midnight to fetch dew From the still-vexed Bermoothes, there she's hid; The mariners all under hatches stowed, Who, with a charm joined to their suffered labor, I have left asleep.
15 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.
16 I have done nothing but in care of thee, Of thee, my dear one, thee, my daughter, who Art ignorant of what thou art, naught knowing Of whence I am, nor that I am more better Than Prospero, master of a full poor cell, And thy no greater father.
17 The direful spectacle of the wrack, which touched 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.
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