Pro. Thou liest, malignant thing! Hast thou forgot Ari. No, sir. Pro. Thou hast where was she born? speak; tell me. Ari. Sir, in Argier. Pro. O, was she so? I must, Once in a month, recount what thou hast been, Which thou forget'st. This damn'd witch, Sycorax, Thou know'st was banish'd, for one thing she did; Ari. Aye, sir. Pro. This blue-ey'd hag was hither brought with child, And here was left by the sailors: Thou, my slave, As thou report'st thyself, was then her servant : And, for thou wast a spirit too delicate To act her earthy and abhorr'd commands, A dozen years; within which space she died, And left thee there; where thou didst vent thy groans, A freckled whelp, hag-born) not honor'd with Pro. Dull thing, I say so,-he, that Caliban, Pro. If thou more murmur'st, I will rend an oak, And peg thee in his knotty entrails, till Thou hast howl'd away twelve winters. What shall I do? say? what shall I do? Pro. Go make thyself like to a nymph o' the sea; Be subject to no sight but mine; invisible (Exit Ariel.) Awake, dear heart, awake! thou hast slept well : Mira. The strangeness of your story put 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. Cali. (within.)-There's wood enough within. Pro. Come forth, I say: there's other business for thee: Come forth, 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.) Pro. Thou poisonous slave, got by the devil himself Upon thy wicked dam, come forth! Enter CALIBAN. Cali. 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! Pro. 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, As thick as honey-combs, each pinch more stinging Cali. I must eat my dinner! This island's mine, by Sycorax, my mother, Which thou tak'st from me. When thou camest first, Thou strok'dst me, and mad'st much of me; would'st 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 lov'd thee, And show'd thee all the qualities o' the isle, The fresh springs, brine pits, barren place, and fertile; 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 The rest of the island. Pro. Thou most lying slave, Whom stripes may move, not kindness,-I have us'd thee, Filth as thou art, with human care; and lodg'd thee In mine own cell, till thou didst seek to violate Which any print of goodness will not take, Being capable of all ill! I pitied thee, Took pains to make thee speak, taught thee each hour 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 confin'd into this rock, Who hadst deserv'd more than a prison. Cali. You taught me language; and my profit on 't Pro. Hag-seed, hence ! Fetch us in fuel; and be quick, thou wert best, What I command, I'll rack thee with old cramps, Cali. : No, 'pray thee! I must obey his art is of such power, (Aside.) And make a vassal of him. Pro. So, slave; hence! [Exit Caliban. Re-enter ARIEL, invisible, playing and singing; FERDINAND following him. 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 burden bear. Burthen. Bowgh, wowgh. (dispersedly) The watch-dogs bark: Bur. Bowgh, wowgh. Hark, hark! I hear The strain of strutting chanticlere Cry, Cock-a-doodle-doo. Fer. Where should this music be? i' the air, or the earth? ARIEL sings. Full fathom five thy father lies; Of his bones are coral made; Nothing of him that doth fade, But doth suffer a sea-change Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell ; Hark! now I hear them,—ding, dong, bell. (Burthen, Ding-dong.) Fer. The ditty does remember my drowned father, Mira. What is 't? a spirit? Lord, how it looks about! Believe, me, sir, It carries a brave form :-but 'tis a spirit. Pro. 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 might'st call him A goodly person: he hath lost his fellows, And strays about to find them. Mira. I might call him As my soul prompts it :—Spirit, fine spirit! I'll free thee Within two days for this. On whom these airs attend !-Vouchsafe, my prayer How the best? Pro. Fer. Yes, faith, and all his lords; the Duke of Milan, And his brave son, being twain. And his more braver daughter, could control thee, |