PROS.

Shake it off. Come on;

We'll visit Caliban my slave, who never

Yields us kind answer.

MIR.

I do not love to look on.

PROS.

'Tis a villain, sir,

But, as 'tis,

We cannot miss him: he does make our fire,
Fetch in our wood and serves in offices

That profit us.

What, ho! slave! Caliban!

Thou earth, thou! speak.

CAL. [Within] There's wood enough within. PROS. Come forth, I say! there's other business for thee:

Come, thou tortoise! when ?

Re-enter ARIEL like a water-nymph.

Fine apparition! My quaint Ariel,
Hark in thine ear.

ARI.

My lord, it shall be done. [Exit.

PROS. Thou poisonous slave, got by the devil Upon thy wicked dam, come forth!

Enter CALIBAN.

[himself

CAL. As wicked dew as e'er my mother brush'd With raven's feather from unwholesome fen

Drop on you both! a south-west blow on ye

And blister you all o'er!

PROS. For this, be sure, to-night thou shalt have

cramps,

Side-stitches that shall pen thy breath up; urchins Shall, for that vast of night that they may work, All exercise on thee; thou shalt be pinch'd

As thick as honeycomb, each pinch more stinging Than bees that made 'em.

CAL.

I must eat my dinner. This island's mine, by Sycorax my mother, Which thou takest from me. When thou camest first, Thou strokedst me and madest much of me, wouldst

give me

Water with berries in 't, and teach me how

To name the bigger light, and how the less,

That burn by day and night: and then I loved thee
And show'd thee all the qualities o' the isle,
The fresh springs, brine-pits, barren place and
fertile :

Cursed be I that did so! All the charms

Of Sycorax, toads, beetles, bats, light on you!
For I am all the subjects that you have,

Which first was mine own king: and here you sty me
In this hard rock, whiles you do keep from me
The rest o' the island.

PROS.

Thou most lying slave, Whom stripes may move, not kindness! I have

used thee,

Filth as thou art, with human care, and lodged thee In mine own cell, till thou didst seek to violate

The honour of my child.

CAL. O ho, O ho! would't had been done! Thou didst prevent me; I had peopled else This isle with Calibans.

PROS.

Abhorred slave,

Which any print of goodness wilt not take,

Being capable of all ill! I pitied thee,

Took pains to make thee speak, taught thee each hour

One thing or other : when thou didst not, savage, Know thine own meaning, but wouldst gabble like A thing most brutish, I endow'd thy purposes With words that made them known. But thy vile

race,

Though thou didst learn, had that in 't which good

natures

Could not abide to be with; therefore wast thou Deservedly confined into this rock,

Who hadst deserved more than a prison.

CAL. You taught me language; and my profit on't Is, I know how to curse. The red plague rid you For learning me your language!

PROS.

Hag-seed, hence! Fetch us in fuel; and be quick, thou 'rt best,

To answer other business. Shrug'st thou, malice? If thou neglect'st or dost unwillingly

What I command, I'll rack thee with old cramps, Fill all thy bones with aches, make thee roar

That beasts shall tremble at thy din.

CAL.

No, pray thee. [Aside] I must obey: his art is of such power, It would control my dam's god, Setebos,

And make a vassal of him.

PROS.

So, slave; hence!

[Exit CALIBAN.

Re-enter ARIEL, invisible, playing and singing;

FERDINAND following.
ARIEL'S song.

Come unto these yellow sands,

And then take hands:

Courtsied when you have and kiss'd

The wild waves whist,

Foot it featly here and there ;

And, sweet sprites, the burthen bear. BURTHEN [dispersedly]. Hark, hark!

The watch-dogs bark:

ARI. Hark, hark! I hear

Bow-wow.

Bow-wow.

The strain of strutting chanticleer
Cry, Cock-a-diddle-dow.

FER. Where should this music be? i' the air or the earth?

It sounds no more: and, sure, it waits upon
Some god o' the island. Sitting on a bank,
Weeping again the king my father's wreck,
This music crept by me upon the waters,
Allaying both their fury and my passion
With its sweet air: thence I have follow'd it,
Or it hath drawn me rather.
But 'tis gone.

No, it begins again.

ARIEL sings.

Full fathom five thy father lies;

Of his bones are coral made;
Those are pearls that were his eyes:
Nothing of him that doth fade

But doth suffer a sea-change
Into something rich and strange.
Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell :

BURTHEN. Ding-dong.

ARI. Hark! now I hear them,—Ding-dong, bell.

FER. The ditty does remember my drown'd father. This is no mortal business, nor no sound

That the earth owes. hear it now above me. PROS. The fringed curtains of thine eye advance And say what thou seest yond.

MIR.

Lord, how it looks about!

What is 't? a spirit?

Believe me, sir,

It carries a brave form. But 'tis a spirit.

PROS. No, wench; it eats and sleeps and hath

such senses

As we have, such.

This gallant which thou seest

Was in the wreck ; and, but he's something stain’d With grief that's beauty's canker, thou mightst

call him

A goodly person: he hath lost his fellows

And strays about to find 'em.

MIR.

I might call him

A thing divine, for nothing natural

I ever saw so noble.

PROS.

[Aside] It goes on, I see,

As my soul prompts it. Spirit, fine spirit! I'll free

thee

Within two days for this.

FER.

Most sure, the goddess

On whom these airs attend! Vouchsafe my prayer

May know if you remain upon this island;