Pаssаge 1: Nоw my chаrms are all о’erthrоwn,And what strength I have ’s mine own,Which is most faint. Now ’tis trueI must be here confined by you,Or sent to Naples. Let me not,Since I have my dukedom gotAnd pardoned 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 relieved by prayer,Which pierces so that it assaultsMercy itself, and frees all faults.As you from crimes would pardoned be,Let your indulgence set me free.