To trash for over-topping,new created The creatures that were mine,I say,or changed'em, Or else new form'd 'em;having both the key Of officer and office,set all hearts i'the state To what tune pleased 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. MIRANDA 0,good sir,I do. PROSPERO 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 retired, O'er-prized all popular rate,in my false brother Awaked 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,like one Who having into truth,by telling of it, Made such a sinner of his memory, To credit his own lie,he did believe He was indeed the duke;out o'the substitution And executing the outward face of royalty, With all prerogative:hence his ambition growing-- Dost thou hear? MIRANDA Your tale,sir,would cure deafness. PROSPERO 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'the 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. MIRANDA 0 the heavens!To trash for over-topping, new created The creatures that were mine, I say, or changed 'em, Or else new form'd 'em; having both the key Of officer and office, set all hearts i' the state To what tune pleased 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. MIRANDA O, good sir, I do. PROSPERO 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 retired, O'er-prized all popular rate, in my false brother Awaked 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, like one Who having into truth, by telling of it, Made such a sinner of his memory, To credit his own lie, he did believe He was indeed the duke; out o' the substitution And executing the outward face of royalty, With all prerogative: hence his ambition growing-- Dost thou hear? MIRANDA Your tale, sir, would cure deafness. PROSPERO 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' the 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. MIRANDA O the heavens!