my freedom: Requiring too much toil for one alone. [MILCHA flies down to his assistance. Milc. I am here, my love. Ariel. Thou art free! Welcome, my dear!What shall we do? Say, say, what shall we do? Prosp. Be subject to no sight but mine; invisible To every eye-ball else. Hence, with diligence; Anon thou shalt know more. [They both fly up, and cross in the air. Thou hast slept well, my child. [To MIR. Mir. The sadness of your story put heaviness in me. Prosp. Shake it off.-Come on, I'll now call Caliban, my slave, who never yields us a kind answer. Mir. 'Tis a creature, sir, I do not love to look on. Prosp. But, as it is, we cannot miss him: He does make our fire, fetch in our wood, and serve in offices that profit us.-What ho, slave! Caliban! thou earth, thou, speak! Calib. [within.] There's wood enough within. Prosp. Thou poisonous slave! got by the devil himself Upon thy wicked dam, come forth! Enter CALIBAN. Calib. As wicked dew, as e'er my mother brushed with raven's feather from unwholesome fens, drop on you both! A south-west wind blow on you, and blister you all o'er! Prosp. For this, be sure, to-night thou shalt have cramps, side-stitches, that shall pen thy breath up: Urchins shall prick thee till thou bleed'st: Thou shalt be pinched as thick as honey-combs, each pinch more stinging than the bees which made them. qua Calib. I must eat my dinner: This island's mine by Sycorax my mother, which thou took'st from me. When thou camest first, thou stroak'dst me, and madest 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 loved thee, and showed thee all the lities of the isle, the fresh-springs, brine-pits, barren places, and fertile. Cursed be I, that I did so! All the charms of Sycorax, toads, beetles, bats, light on thee! for I am all the subjects that thou hast. I first was mine own lord; and here thou stayest me in this hard rock, while thou dost keep from me the rest o'the island. Prosp. 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 children. Calib. Oh, ho! oh, ho! would it had been done! Thou didst prevent me, I had peopled else this isle with Calibans. Prosp. Abhorred slave! who ne'er wouldst any print of goodness 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 thy own meaning, but wouldst gabble like a thing most brutish, I endowed thy purposes with words, which made them known.But thy wild race (though thou didst learn) had that in't, which good natures could not abide to be with; therefore wast thou deservedly pent up into this rock. Calib. You taught me language; and my profit by it is, that I know to curse. The red botch rid you for learning me your language! Prosp. Hag-seed, hence! Fetch us in fuel, and be quick To answer other business.--Shrug'st thou, malice! If thou neglectest, 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. Calib. No, pr'ythee! I must obey. His art is of such power, Prosp. So, slave, hence! [Exeunt PROSP. and CALIB. severally. Enter DORINDA. Dor. Oh, sister! what have I beheld! As I my eyes cast down upon the seas, The whistling winds blew rudely on my face, Mir. O, you mean the ship? Dor. Is't not a creature then?--It seemed alive. Mir. But what of it? Dor. This floating ram did bear his horns above, All tied with ribbands, ruffling in the wind: Sometimes he nodded down his head a-while, And then the waves did heave him to the moon, He clambering to the top of all the billows; And then again he curtsied down so low, I could not see him: Till at last, all side-long, Had not my father's magic art relieved them.-- Which me. Mir. I know no more than you:-But I have heard My father say, we women were made for him. Dor. What, that he should eat us, sister? Mir. No sure; you see my father is a man, and yet He does us good. I would he were not old. Dor. Methinks, indeed, it would be finer, if We two had two young fathers. Mir. No, sister, no: If they were young, my father Said, we must call them brothers. Dor. But, pray, how does it come, that we two are Not brothers then, and have not beards like him? Mir. Now I confess you pose me. Dor. How did he come to be our father too? Mir. I think he found us when we both were little, And grew within the ground. Dor. Why could he not find more of us? Pray, sister, Let you and I look up and down one day, To find some little ones for us to play with. Mir. Agreed; but now we must go in. This is The hour wherein my father's charm will work, Which seizes all who are in open air: The effect of this great art I long to see, Dor. And I, methinks, more long to see a man. [Exeunt ACT II. SCENE I. The scene changes to the wilder part of the Island. It is composed of divers sorts of trees and barren places, with a prospect of the sea at a great distance. Enter STEPHANO, MUSTACHO, and VENTOSO. Vent. The runlet of brandy was a loving runlet, and floated after us out of pure pity. Must. This kind bottle, like an old acquaintance, swam after it. And this scollop-shell is all our plate now. Vent. "Tis well we have found something since we landed. I pr'ythee fill a sup, and let it go round.- Must. In the hollow of an old tree. Vent. Fill apace; we cannot live long in this barren island, and we may take a sup before death, as well as others drink at our funerals. Must. This is prize brandy; we steal custom, and it costs nothing. Let's have two rounds more. Vent. Master, what have you saved? Steph. Just nothing but myself. Vent. This works comfortably on a cold stomach. Steph. Fill us another round. Vent. Look! Mustacho weeps. Hang losses, as long as we have brandy left!--Pr'ythee leave weeping. |