| |
| | SPOKEN BY PROSPERO | |
| | Now my charms are all o'erthrown, | |
| | And what strength I have's mine own, | |
| | Which is most faint: now, 'tis true, | |
| | I must be here confined by you, | 5 |
| | Or sent to Naples. Let me not, | |
| | Since I have my dukedom got | |
| | And pardon'd the deceiver, dwell | |
| | In this bare island by your spell; | |
| | But release me from my bands | 10 |
| | With the help of your good hands: | |
| | Gentle breath of yours my sails | |
| | Must fill, or else my project fails, | |
| | Which was to please. Now I want | |
| | Spirits to enforce, art to enchant, | 15 |
| | And my ending is despair, | |
| | Unless I be relieved by prayer, | |
| | Which pierces so that it assaults | |
| | Mercy itself and frees all faults. | |
| | As you from crimes would pardon'd be, | 20 |
| | Let your indulgence set me free. | |