_ '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. 25
The direful spectacle of the wreck, which touch'd
The very virtue of compassion in thee,
I have with such provision in mine art
So safely order'd, 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.

_Mir._ 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."

_Pros._ 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.

_Mir._ Certainly, sir, I can.

_Pros._ By what? by any other house or person?
Of any thing the image tell me that
Hath kept with thy remembrance.

_Mir._ 'Tis far off,
And rather like a dream than an assurance 45
That my remembrance warrants. Had I not
Four or five women once that tended me?

_Pros._ Thou hadst, and more, Miranda. But how is it
That this lives in thy mind? What seest thou else
In the dark backward and abysm of time? 50
If thou remember'st ought ere thou camest here,
How thou camest here thou mayst.

_Mir._ But that I do not.

_Pros._ Twelve year since, Miranda, twelve year since,
Thy father was the Duke of Milan, and
A prince of power.

_Mir._ Sir, are not you my father? 55

_Pros._ Thy mother was a piece of virtue, and
She said thou wast my daughter; and thy father
Was Duke of Milan; and his only heir
And princess, no worse issued.

_Mir._ O the heavens!
What foul play had we, that we came from thence? 60
Or blessed was't we did?

_Pros._ Both, both, my girl:
By foul play, as thou say'st, were we heaved thence;
But blessedly holp hither.

_Mir._ O, my heart bleeds
To think o' the teen that I have turn'd you to.