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 confin’d by you,Or sent to Naples. Let me not,Since I have my dukedom got,And pardon’d the deceiver, dwellIn this bare island by your spell,But release me from my bandsWith the help of your good hands.Gentle breath of yours my sailsMust fill, or else my project fails,Which was to please. Now I wantSpirits to enforce, art to enchant;And my ending is despair,Unless I be reliev’d by prayer,Which pierces so that it assaultsMercy itself, and frees all faults. As you from crimes would pardon’d be, Let your indulgence set me free.
[Exit.]