Page 1030 - Shakespeare - Vol. 4

[Lays down his mantle.]
Lie there, my Art. Wipe thou thine eyes; have comfort. [25]
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 [30]
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, [35]

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 [40]
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 [45]

That my remembrance warrants. Had I not