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!--I would it had been done!

Thou didst prevent me; I had peopled else

This isle with Calibans.

Pro.

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 endowed 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

Is, I know how to curse.

You,

and my profit on 't
The red plague rid you

For learning me your language !

Pro.

Hag-seed, hence!

Fetch us in fuel; and be quick, thou 'rt best,

To answer other business. Shrugg'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 achés; 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.

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:

Court'sied when you have, and kissed

The wild waves whist :

Foot it featly here and there;

And, sweet sprites, the burden bear.

Hark! hark!

Burden. Bowgh, wowgh,

The watch-dogs bark:

[Dispersedly.]

Burden. Bowgh, wowgh,

Hark, hark! I hear

The strain of strutting chanticleer

Cry, Cock-a-doodle-doo.

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 followed it,
Or it hath drawn me rather: but 't is 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 :

[Burden. Ding-dong.

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

Fer. The ditty does remember my drowned

father.

This is no mortal business, nor no sound

That the earth owes.-I hear it now above me.

Pro. The fringed curtains of thine eye advance, And say, what thou seest yond.

Mira. What is 't a spirit? Lord! how it looks about! Believe me, sir,

It carries a brave form :-but 't is 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 stained

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.

A thing divine, for nothing natural

I ever saw so noble.—

Pro. [Aside.]

As my soul prompts it.

free thee

I might call him

It goes on, I see,

Spirit, fine spirit! I'll

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,
And that you will some good instructions give
How I may bear me here; my prime request,
Which I do last pronounce, is, O you wonder,
If you be maid, or no?

Mira.

But certainly a maid.

Fer.

No wonder, sir;

My language Heavens !

I am the best of them that speak this speech.
Were I but where 't is spoken.

Pro.

How the best?

What wert thou, if the King of Naples heard

thee?

Fer. A single thing, as I am now; that wonders To hear thee speak of Naples. He does hear me, And that he does I weep: myself am Naples; Who with mine eyes, ne'er since at ebb, beheld The king, my father, wrecked.

Mira.

Alack, for mercy!

Fer. Yes, faith, and all his lords; the Duke of

Milan,

And his brave son, being twain.

Pro.

The Duke of Milan,

And his more braver daughter could control thee,