TRIN. Here's neither bush nor shrub, to bear off any weather at all, and another storm brewing; I hear it sing i' the wind: yond' same black cloud, yond' huge one, looks like a foul bumbard that would shed his liquor. If it should thunder as it did before, I know not where to hide my head: yond' same cloud cannot choose but fall by pailfuls.—What have we here? a man or a fish? Dead or alive? A fish: he smells like a fish; a very ancient and fishlike smell; a kind of, not of the newest, Poor John. A strange fish! Were I in England now, (as once I was,) and had but this fish painted, not a holiday fool there but would give a piece of silver: there would this monster make a man; any strange beast there makes a man: when they will not give a doit to relieve a lame beggar, they will lay out ten to see a dead Indian. Legged like a man! and his fins like arms! Warm, o' my troth! I do now let loose my opinion, hold it no longer; this is no fish, but an islander, that hath lately suffered by a thunder-bolt. [Thunder.] Alas! the storm is come again: my best way is to creep under his gaberdine; there is no other shelter hereabout: Misery acquaints a man with strange bedfellows. I will here shroud till the dregs of the storm be past.

STE.

Enter STEPHANO singing; a bottle in his hand.

I shall no more to sea, to sea,

Here shall I die ashore;

This is a very scurvy tune to sing at a man's funeral: Well, here's my comfort.

The master, the swabber, the boatswain, and I,

The gunner, and his mate,

Lov'd Mall, Meg, and Marian, and Margery,
But none of us car'd for Kate:

For she had a tongue with a tang,

Would cry to a sailor, "Go hang:"

[Drinks.

She lov'd not the savour of tar nor of pitch,
Yet a tailor might scratch her where'er she did itch:
Then to sea, boys, and let her go hang.

This is a scurvy tune too: But here's my comfort. [Drinks,

CAL. Do not torment me: O!

STE. What's the matter? Have we devils here? Do you put tricks upon us with salvages, and men of Inde? Ha! I have not 'scaped drowning, to be afeard now of your four legs; for it hath been said, As proper a man as ever went on four legs cannot make him give ground: and it shall be said so again, while Stephano breathes at nostrils. CAL. The spirit torments me: O!

STE. This is some monster of the isle, with four legs; who hath got, as I take it, an ague: Where the devil should he learn our language? I will give him some relief, if it be but for that: If I can recover him, and keep him tame, and get to Naples with him, he 's a present for any emperor that ever trod on neat's-leather.

CAL. Do not torment me, prithee; I'll bring my wood home faster.

STE. He's in his fit now; and does not talk after the wisest. He shall taste of my bottle: if he have never drunk wine afore, it will go near to remove his fit: if I can recover him, and keep him tame, I will not take too much for him: he shall pay for him that hath him, and that soundly.

CAL. Thou dost me yet but little hurt; thou wilt anon, I know it by thy trembling: Now Prosper works upon thee.

STE. Come on your ways; open your mouth: here is that which will give language to you, cat; open your mouth: this will shake your shaking, I can tell you, and that soundly: you cannot tell who's your friend: open your chaps again.

TRIN. I should know that voice: It should be-But he is drowned; and these are devils! O! defend me!—

STE. Four legs, and two voices; a most delicate monster! His forward voice now is to speak well of his friend; his backward voice is to utter foul speeches, and to detract. If all the wine in my bottle will recover him, I will help his ague: Come-Amen! I will pour some in thy other

mouth.

TRIN. Stephano,

STE. Doth thy other mouth call me? Mercy! mercy! This is a devil, and no monster: I will leave him: I have no long spoon.

TRIN. Stephano!-if thou beest Stephano, touch me, and speak to me; for I am Trinculo;-be not afeard,—thy good friend Trinculo.

STE. If thou beest Trinculo, come forth; I'll pull thee by the lesser legs: if any be Trinculo's legs, these are they. Thou art very Trinculo, indeed: How camest thou to be the siege of this moon-calf? Can he vent Trinculos?

TRIN. I took him to be killed with a thunder-stroke:But art thou not drowned, Stephano? I hope now, thou art not drowned. Is the storm overblown? I hid me under the dead moon-calf's gaberdine, for fear of the storm: And art thou living, Stephano? O Stephano, two Neapolitans 'scaped!

STE. Prithee, do not turn me about; my stomach is not constant.

CAL. These be fine things, an if they be not sprites.
That's a brave god, and bears celestial liquor:
I will kneel to him.

STE. How didst thou 'scape? How camest thou hither? swear by this bottle, how thou camest hither. I escaped upon a butt of sack, which the sailors heaved overboard, by this bottle! which I made of the bark of a tree, with mine own hands, since I was cast ashore.

CAL. I'll swear, upon that bottle, to be thy true subject; for the liquor is not earthly.

STE. Here; swear then how thou escapedst.

TRIN. Swam ashore, man, like a duck; I can swim like a duck, I'll be sworn.

STE. Here, kiss the book: Though thou canst swim like a duck, thou art made like a goose.

TRIN. O Stephano, hast any more of this?

STE. The whole butt, man; my cellar is in a rock by the sea-side, where my wine is hid. How now, moon-calf? how does thine ague?

CAL. Hast thou not dropped from heaven?

STE. Out o' the moon, I do assure thee: I was the man

in the moon, when time was.

CAL. I have seen thee in her, and I do adore thee; My mistress show'd me thee, and thy dog and bush.

STE. Come, swear to that; kiss the book: I will furnish it anon with new contents: swear.

TRIN. By this good light, this is a very shallow monster: -I afeard of him! a very weak monster:-The man i' the moon!-a most poor credulous monster: Well drawn, monster, in good sooth.

CAL. I'll show thee every fertile inch o' the island; And I will kiss thy foot: I prithee, be my god.

TRIN. By this light, a most perfidious and drunken monster; when his god 's asleep he 'll rob his bottle.

CAL. I'll kiss thy foot: I'll swear myself thy subject.
STE. Come on then; down and swear.

TRIN. I shall laugh myself to death at this puppy-headed monster: a most scurvy monster! I could find in my heart to beat him,

STE. Come, kiss.

TRIN. but that the poor monster's in drink; an abominable monster!

CAL. I'll show thee the best springs; I'll pluck thee berries;

I'll fish for thee, and get thee wood enough.

A plague upon the tyrant that I serve!

I'll bear him no more sticks, but follow thee,

Thou wondrous man.

TRIN. A most ridiculous monster! to make a wonder of a poor drunkard.

CAL. I prithee let me bring thee where crabs grow,
And I with my long nails will dig thee pig-nuts;
Show thee a jay's nest, and instruct thee how
To snare the nimble marmozet; I'll bring thee
To clust'ring filberds, and sometimes I'll get thee
Young scamels from the rock: Wilt thou go with me?

STE. I prithee now, lead the way, without any more talking.—Trinculo, the king and all our company else being drowned, we will inherit here.-Here; bear my bottle. Fellow Trinculo, we 'll fill him by and by again.

CAL. Farewell, master: farewell, farewell.

[Sings drunkenly.

TRIN. A howling monster; a drunken monster.

CAL.

No more dams I 'll make for fish;

Nor fetch in firing

At requiring,

Nor scrape trencher, nor wash dish:
'Ban, 'Ban, Ca-Caliban

Has a new master-Get a new man.

Freedom, hey-day! hey-day, freedom! freedom, hey-day,

freedom!

STE. O brave monster! lead the way.

[Exeunt.

ACT III.

SCENE I-Before Prospero's Cell.

Enter FERDINAND, bearing a log.

FER. There be some sports are painful; and their labour Delight in them sets off: some kinds of baseness

Are nobly undergone; and most poor matters

Point to rich ends. This my mean task

Would be as heavy to me as odious; but

The mistress which I serve quickens what 's dead,
And makes my labours pleasures: O, she is
Ten times more gentle than her father 's crabbed;
And he 's compos'd of harshness.
I must remove

Some thousands of these logs, and pile them up,
Upon a sore injunction: My sweet mistress

Weeps when she sees me work; and says such baseness
Had never like executor. forget:

But these sweet thoughts do even refresh my labours;
Most busy least, when I do it.

MIRA.

Enter MIRANDA, and PROSPERO at a distance.

Alas, now! pray you,

Work not so hard; I would the lightning had
Burnt up those logs that you are enjoin'd to pile!