He'll never figure out how Katy Rose got out of familial expectations, but he assumes it has something to do with being intensely smart and entering a PhD program at the age of 24.
"It is more blessing than curse, I think. It is our responsibilities to others, Master Jamison, our obligations and duties to those around us and under our aegis, that make us who we are." He sighs. "A lesson learned too late, and one I hope I may yet put to practice."
"One of the most wondrous aspects of this place," Prospero remarks with a smile, taking the seat opposite Matt, "is the amount of time. I am not surprised Ariel chose it as a place to rest."
He leans his staff against the table, in easy reach. "But where to begin my tale?" he muses. "In Milan, I suppose, when I began my study of the art. My books were more refreshing to me than any wine, more nourishing than food, more illuminating than the grand golden face of the Sun. My world was the library, and my library was more than the world."
"Ah, my true power came later. The books I found -- musty tomes and scrolls, the wisdom of the ancients -- informed me and led me. If they could cast the spells they held themselves, they could not have enthralled me more. But it was knowledge, merely -- if knowledge may ever be said to be merely anything -- and the pursuit of it that led to my downfall. If I had had my powers then, perhaps I would have held my dukedom unchallenged."
"But lacking those powers in Milan, so it was that my brother Antonio -- he whom of all the world I loved -- to him I put the manage of my state. I, Prospero, the prime duke, so reputed in dignity and for the liberal arts without a parallel, those being all my study, did cast the government upon my brother and to my state grew stranger, being transported and rapt in secret studies."
His expression darkens. "I, thus neglecting worldly ends, dedicated all myself to closeness and the bettering of my mind. But by being so retired, I did not see when 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, he did believe he was indeed the duke; out o' the substitution and executing the outward face of royalty, with all prerogatives thereto adhering."
"Ah, then -- the King of Naples, being an enemy to me inveterate, hearkened my brother's suit; which was, that he, in lieu o' the premises of homage and I know not how much tribute, should presently extirpate me and mine out of the dukedom and confer fair Milan with all the honours on my brother: whereon, a treacherous army levied, one midnight fated to the purpose did Antonio open the gates of Milan, and, i' the dead of darkness, the ministers for the purpose hurried thence me and my daughter, then but three years old."
(His expression softens slightly, for almost the first time, when he mentions his daughter.)
Matt's expression, meanwhile, sharpens-- in alarm.
"Oh, snap."
It's one thing to want a little recognition for all the hard work you're doing while your brother gets his bookworm on. But extirpation is a whole other ballgame.
He raises his eyebrows quizzically, but the emotion behind the expression is clear even if the words are unfamiliar.
"Aye. And yet, so dear was the love my people bore me, they durst not destroy us outright. Instead, they hurried us aboard a bark, bore us some leagues to sea; where they prepared a rotten carcass of a boat, not rigg'd, nor tackle, sail, nor mast; the very rats instinctively had quit it. There they hoist us, to cry to the sea that roar'd to us, to sigh to the winds whose pity, sighing back again, did us but loving wrong. Some food we had and some fresh water that a noble Neapolitan, did give us, with Rich garments, linens, stuffs and necessaries. And above all these, in his gentleness, knowing I loved my books, he furnish'd me from mine own library with volumes that I prize above my dukedom."
He glances up into the rafters. "Providence herself put her hand to the work then, and guided our meager vessel to the island that we now call home. And there I may say I came into my power -- no more were the words on the page alone, but now on my tongue; no more a power in theory, but now in practice."
"Not as such." A small shrug. "A great deal is expected of the eldest son, where I was raised."
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He'll never figure out how Katy Rose got out of familial expectations, but he assumes it has something to do with being intensely smart and entering a PhD program at the age of 24.
Something like that.
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"It is more blessing than curse, I think. It is our responsibilities to others, Master Jamison, our obligations and duties to those around us and under our aegis, that make us who we are." He sighs. "A lesson learned too late, and one I hope I may yet put to practice."
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A lot, as it happens. He finds himself thinking back to conversations with Nita.
(and you want to help people
I think I want to try)
"I think it's a large part," Matt agrees thoughtfully.
He glances at Prospero curiously. "Too late ...?"
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"It is a long tale, and not a happy one, I fear. But if you would hear it . . ."
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"Around here, anyway."
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"One of the most wondrous aspects of this place," Prospero remarks with a smile, taking the seat opposite Matt, "is the amount of time. I am not surprised Ariel chose it as a place to rest."
He leans his staff against the table, in easy reach. "But where to begin my tale?" he muses. "In Milan, I suppose, when I began my study of the art. My books were more refreshing to me than any wine, more nourishing than food, more illuminating than the grand golden face of the Sun. My world was the library, and my library was more than the world."
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"How did you start?" he asks.
"Is it ... accepted, where you're from, for people to have power like that?"
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"Ah, my true power came later. The books I found -- musty tomes and scrolls, the wisdom of the ancients -- informed me and led me. If they could cast the spells they held themselves, they could not have enthralled me more. But it was knowledge, merely -- if knowledge may ever be said to be merely anything -- and the pursuit of it that led to my downfall. If I had had my powers then, perhaps I would have held my dukedom unchallenged."
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He nods.
"Okay." Still unsure about if it's cool to be out and magical in his whenwhere, but Matt wants to listen a little more before asking anything else.
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"But lacking those powers in Milan, so it was that my brother Antonio -- he whom of all the world I loved -- to him I put the manage of my state. I, Prospero, the prime duke, so reputed in dignity and for the liberal arts without a parallel, those being all my study, did cast the government upon my brother and to my state grew stranger, being transported and rapt in secret studies."
His expression darkens. "I, thus neglecting worldly ends, dedicated all myself to closeness and the bettering of my mind. But by being so retired, I did not see when 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, he did believe he was indeed the duke; out o' the substitution and executing the outward face of royalty, with all prerogatives thereto adhering."
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He's clearly not suffering in the public relations department.
Or ... he wouldn't be. If it weren't for his brother. Apparently.
(Matt kind of hopes KR takes over his life one day. She'd be good at it, assuming the magic didn't freak her out.
Okay, scratch that. He's doing all right for himself.)
"So ... what did he do, exactly?"
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"Ah, then -- the King of Naples, being an enemy to me inveterate, hearkened my brother's suit; which was, that he, in lieu o' the premises of homage and I know not how much tribute, should presently extirpate me and mine out of the dukedom and confer fair Milan with all the honours on my brother: whereon, a treacherous army levied, one midnight fated to the purpose did Antonio open the gates of Milan, and, i' the dead of darkness, the ministers for the purpose hurried thence me and my daughter, then but three years old."
(His expression softens slightly, for almost the first time, when he mentions his daughter.)
Reply
"Oh, snap."
It's one thing to want a little recognition for all the hard work you're doing while your brother gets his bookworm on. But extirpation is a whole other ballgame.
Reply
He raises his eyebrows quizzically, but the emotion behind the expression is clear even if the words are unfamiliar.
"Aye. And yet, so dear was the love my people bore me, they durst not destroy us outright. Instead, they hurried us aboard a bark, bore us some leagues to sea; where they prepared a rotten carcass of a boat, not rigg'd, nor tackle, sail, nor mast; the very rats instinctively had quit it. There they hoist us, to cry to the sea that roar'd to us, to sigh to the winds whose pity, sighing back again, did us but loving wrong. Some food we had and some fresh water that a noble Neapolitan, did give us, with
Rich garments, linens, stuffs and necessaries. And above all these, in his gentleness, knowing I loved my books, he furnish'd me from mine own library with volumes that I prize above my dukedom."
He glances up into the rafters. "Providence herself put her hand to the work then, and guided our meager vessel to the island that we now call home. And there I may say I came into my power -- no more were the words on the page alone, but now on my tongue; no more a power in theory, but now in practice."
Reply
"That's how you got there ... by shipwreck."
He wonders briefly if the strain and the emotional pain is what kicked Prospero's abilities into high gear.
"Wow. I'm sorry."
Reply
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