Prospero's Books Page #2

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This atlas is full of maps of Hell.

It was used when Orpheus journeyed

into the Underworld to find Eurydice,

and the maps are scorched and charred by Hellfire

and marked with the teeth-bites of Cerberus.

Vesalius produced the first authoritative anatomy book;

it is astonishing in its detail, macabre in its single mindedness.

This Anatomy of Birth,

a second volume, is even

more disturbing and heretical.

It concentrates on the mysteries o f birth.

It is full of descriptive drawings

of the workings of the human body

which, when the pages open,

move and throb and bleed.

It is a banned book

that queries the unnecessary

processes of ageing,

bemoans the wastages associated with progeneration,

condemns the pains

and anxieties of childbirth

and generally questions

the efficiency of God.

Thy false uncle.

Being once perfected how to grant suits,

How to deny them,

who t' advance,

and who To trash for over-topping,

new created The creatures

that were mine, I say,

or chang'd 'em, Or else new form'd 'em;

having both the key Of officer and office,

set all hearts i' th' state To what tune pleas'd his ear;

that now he was The ivy

which had hid my princely trunk

And suck'd my verdure out on't.

Thou attend'st not.

I pray thee, mark me.

I thus neglecting worldly ends,

all dedicated To closeness

and the bettering of my mind

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 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,

he did believe he was indeed the Duke;

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 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!-

To most ignoble stooping.

a treacherous army levied,

one midnight fated to th' purpose,

did Antonio open the gates of Milan;

nd, i' th' dead of darkness,

The ministers for th' purpose

hurried thence me and thy crying self.

Wherefore did they not that hour destroy us?

My tale provokes that question.

Dear, they durst not, so dear the love my people bore me;

nor set a mark so

bloody on the business;

but with colours fairer

painted their foul ends.

In few, they hurried us aboard a bark;

bore us some leagues to sea,

where they prepared a rotten carcass of a butt,

not rigg'd, nor tackle, sail, nor mast;

the very rats instinctively have quit it.

There they hoist us, To cry to th' sea,

that roar'd to us;

to sigh To th' winds, whose pity,

sighing back again,

9. A Primer of the Small Stars

Did us but loving wrong.

Alack, what trouble was I then to you!

O, a cherubin thou wast that did preserve me!

Thou didst smile, infused with

a fortitude from heaven,

when I have deck'd the sea with drops full salt.

Some food we had and some fresh water

that a noble Neapolitan,

Gonzalo, out of his charity, who being

then appointed Master of this design,

did give us, with rich garments,

linens, stuffs, and necessaries,

which since have steaded much;

so, of his gentleness,

Knowing I lov'd my books,

he furnish'd me from mine own library

with volumes that I prize

above my dukedom.

Here in this island we arriv'd;

and here have I, thy schoolmaster,

made thee more profit

Than other princess' can,

that have more time for vainer hours,

and tutors not so careful.

By accident most strange,

bountiful fortune,

now my dear lady,

hath mine enemies brought

to this shore;

and by my prescience

I find my zenith doth depend

upon a most auspicious star,

whose influence if now

I court not, but omit,

my fortunes will ever after droop.

10. The Book of Universal Cosmography

attempts to place all universal

phenomena in one system.

It is full of disciplined geometrical figures,

concentric rings that circle

and counter circle,

tables and lists organised in spirals,

catalogues arranged

on a simplified body of man,

in a structured universe where

all things have their allotted place

and an obligation to be fruitful.

Come away, servant;come;

I am ready now.

Approach, my Ariel. Come.

All hail, great master! grave sir, hail!

I come To answer thy best pleasure;

be't to fly,

To swim, to dive into the fire,

to ride On the curl'd clouds.

To thy strong bidding task Ariel

and all his quality.

Hast thou, spirit, Perform'd to point

the tempest that I bade thee?

To every article.

I boarded the King's ship;

now on the beak, now in the waist,

the deck, in every cabin,

I flam'd amazement.

Sometime I'd divide,

and burn in many places;

on the topmast, The yards, and bowsprit,

would I flame distinctly,

Then meet and join

Jove's lightning, the precursors

O' th' dreadful thunder-claps,

more momentary

and sight-outrunning were not;

the fire and cracks

of sulphurous roaring

the most mighty Neptune seem to besiege,

and make his bold waves tremble,

yea, his dread trident shake.

My brave spirit!

Who was so firm, so constant,

that this coil Would not infect his reason?

Not a soul But felt a fever of the mad,

and play'd some tricks of desperation.

All but mariners plung'd

in the foaming brine,

and quit the vessel,

Then all afire with me;

the King's son, Ferdinand, with hair

up-staring-then like reeds, not hair-

was the first man that leapt; cried

'hell is empty,

and all the devils are here.'

Come unto these yellow sands,

And then take hands;

Curtsied when you have and kiss'd,

the wild waves whist,

foot it featly here and there,

and, sweet sprites, the burden bear.

Hark, hark!

The watch dogs bark.

Hark, hark! I hear

The strain of strutting chanticleer

Enter Ariel

The King's son have I landed by himself,

whom I left cooling of the air with sighs

In an odd angle of the isle,

and sitting, his arms in this sad knot.

What the mariners, say

how thou hast dispos'd,

and all the rest o' th' fleet?

Safely in harbour is the King's ship;

in the deep nook, where once

Thou call'dst me up at midnight

to fetch dew From the still-vex'd

Bermoothes, there she's hid;

The mariners all under

hatches stowed,

who, with a charm join'd to their

suff'red labour, I have left asleep;

and for the rest o' th' fleet,

which I dispers'd,

they all have met again, and are upon

the Mediterranean flote

bound sadly home for Naples,

supposing that they saw

the King's ship wreck'd,

and his great person perish.

Ariel, thy charge exactly is perform'd;

but there's more work.

What is the time o' th' day?

- Past the mid season.

The time 'twixt six and now must

by us both be spent most preciously.

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