Page 1033 - Shakespeare - Vol. 4

I pray thee, mark me.
I, thus neglecting wordly ends, all dedicated
To closeness and the bettering of my mind [90]
With that which, but by being so retir’d,

O’er-priz’d all popular rate, in my false brother
Awak’d an evil nature; and my trust,
Like a good parent, did beget of him
A falsehood in its contrary, as great [95]

As my trust was; which had indeed no limit,
A confidence sans bound. He being thus lorded,
Not only with what my revenue yielded,
But what my power might else exact, like one

Who having into truth, by telling of it, [100]
Made such a sinner of his memory,
To credit his own lie, he did believe
He was indeed the duke; out o’ th’ substitution,

And executing th’ outward face of royalty,
With all prerogative; − hence his ambition growing, − [105]
Dost thou hear?

MIRANDA
Your tale, sir, would cure deafness.

PROSPERO
To have no screen between this part he play’d

And him he play’d it for, he needs will be
Absolute Milan. Me, poor man, my library
Was dukedom large enough: of temporal royalties [110]
He thinks me now incapable; confederates,

So dry he was for sway, wi’ th’ King of Naples
To give him annual tribute, do him homage,
Subject his coronet to his crown, and bend
The dukedom, yet unbow’d, − alas, poor Milan! [115]

To most ignoble stooping.

MIRANDA
O the heavens!