Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea for an acre of barren ground,long heath,brown furze,any thing.The wills above be done!but I would fain die a dry death. Exeunt SCENE II.The island.Before PROSPERO'S cell. Enter PROSPERO and MIRANDA MIRANDA If by your art,my dearest father,you have Put the wild waters in this roar,allay them. The sky,it seems,would pour down stinking pitch, But that the sea,mounting to the welkin's cheek, Dashes the fire out.0,I have suffered With those that I saw suffer:a brave vessel, Who had,no doubt,some noble creature in her, Dash'd all to pieces.0,the cry did knock Against my very heart.Poor souls,they perish'd. Had I been any god of power,I would Have sunk the sea within the earth or ere It should the good ship so have swallow'd and The fraughting souls within her. PROSPERO Be collected: No more amazement:tell your piteous heart There's no harm done. MIRANDA 0,woe the day! PROSPERO No harm. I have done nothing but in care of thee, Of thee,my dear one,thee,my daughter,who Art ignorant of what thou art,nought knowing Of whence I am,nor that I am more better Than Prospero,master of a full poor cell, And thy no greater father. MIRANDA More to know Did never meddle with my thoughts. PROSPERONow would I give a thousand furlongs of sea for an acre of barren ground, long heath, brown furze, any thing. The wills above be done! but I would fain die a dry death. Exeunt SCENE II. The island. Before PROSPERO'S cell. Enter PROSPERO and MIRANDA MIRANDA If by your art, my dearest father, you have Put the wild waters in this roar, allay them. The sky, it seems, would pour down stinking pitch, But that the sea, mounting to the welkin's cheek, Dashes the fire out. O, I have suffered With those that I saw suffer: a brave vessel, Who had, no doubt, some noble creature in her, Dash'd all to pieces. O, the cry did knock Against my very heart. Poor souls, they perish'd. Had I been any god of power, I would Have sunk the sea within the earth or ere It should the good ship so have swallow'd and The fraughting souls within her. PROSPERO Be collected: No more amazement: tell your piteous heart There's no harm done. MIRANDA O, woe the day! PROSPERO No harm. I have done nothing but in care of thee, Of thee, my dear one, thee, my daughter, who Art ignorant of what thou art, nought knowing Of whence I am, nor that I am more better Than Prospero, master of a full poor cell, And thy no greater father. MIRANDA More to know Did never meddle with my thoughts. PROSPERO