Page 1116 - Shakespeare - Vol. 4

I rather think
You have not sought her help, of whose soft grace
For the like loss I have her sovereign aid,
And rest myself content.

ALONSO
You the like loss!

PROSPERO
As great to me as late; and, supportable [145]
To make the dear loss, have I means much weaker
Than you may call to comfort you, for I
Have lost my daughter.

ALONSO

A daughter?
O heavens, that they were living both in Naples,
The King and Queen there! that they were, I wish [150]
Myself were mudded in that oozy bed
Where my son lies. When did you lose your daughter?

PROSPERO
In this last tempest. I perceive, these lords
At this encounter do so much admire,
That they devour their reason, and scarce think [155]
Their eyes do offices of truth, their words

Are natural breath: but, howsoe’er you have
Been justled from your senses, know for certain
That I am Prospero, and that very duke
Which was thrust forth of Milan; who most strangely [160]

Upon this shore, where you were wrack’d, was landed,
To be the lord on ’t. No more yet of this;
For ’tis a chronicle of day by day,
Not a relation for a breakfast, nor

Befitting this first meeting. Welcome, sir; [165]
This cell’s my court: here have I few attendants,
And subjects none abroad: pray you, look in.
My dukedom since you have given me again,