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I do not, sir.


Pros. Thou liest, malignant thing! Hast thou forgot

The foul witch Sycorax, who, with age and envy, Was grown into a hoop? hast thou forgot her? Ari. No, sir.


Thou hast. Where was she born?

speak; tell me.

Ari. Sir, in Argier.


O, was she so? I must, Once in a month, recount what thou hast been, Which thou forget'st. This damn'd witch, Sycorax,

For mischiefs manifold, and sorceries terrible
To enter human hearing, from Argier,

Thou know'st, was banish'd: for one thing she did,

They would not take her life. Is not this true? Ari. Ay, sir.

Pros. This blue-eyed hag was hither brought with child,

And here was left by the sailors: thou, my slave,
As thou report'st thyself, wast then her servant;
And, for thou wast a spirit too delicate

To act her earthy and abhorr'd commands,
Refusing her grand hests, she did confine thee,
By help of her more potent ministers,
And in her most unmitigable rage,
Into a cloven pine; within which rift
Imprison'd thou didst painfully remain

A dozen years; within which space she died, And left thee there, where thou didst vent thy groans

As fast as mill-wheels strike. Then was this island
(Save for the son that she did litter here,
A freckled whelp, hag-born) not honour'd with
A human shape.


Yes; Caliban, her son.

Pros. Dull thing, I say so; he, that Caliban, Whom now I keep in service. Thou best know'st What torment I did find thee in; thy groans Did make wolves howl, and penetrate the breasts Of ever-angry bears: it was a torment To lay upon the damn'd, which Sycorax Could not again undo: it was mine art, When I arrived and heard thee, that made gape The pine, and let thee out.


I thank thee, master. Pros. 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.


Pardon, master ;

I will be correspondent to command,
And do my spriting gently.


I will discharge thee.


Do so, and after two days

That's my noble master!

What shall I do? say what? what shall I do? Pros. Go, make thyself like a nymph o' the sea: be subject

To no sight but thine and mine; invisible
To every eyeball else. Go, take this shape,
And hither come in 't: go, hence, with diligence.
[Exit ARIEL.
Awake, dear heart, awake! thou hast slept well;


Mir. The strangeness of your story put Heaviness in me.


Shake it off. Come on;

We'll visit Caliban, my slave, who never
Yields us kind answer.


"T is a villain, sir,

But, as 't is,

I do not love to look on.


We cannot miss him: he does make our fire,

Fetch in our wood, and serves in offices

That profit us. What ho

Thou earth, thou! speak.

slave! Caliban !

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.


My lord, it shall be done. [Exit.

Pros. Thou poisonous slave, got by the devil himself

Upon thy wicked dam, come forth!


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;


Shall forth at 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 tak'st from me. When thou camest


Thou strok'dst me, and mad'st 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

And show'd thee all the qualities o' th' 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.


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.

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
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


Fill all thy bones with aches; make thee roar, That beasts shall tremble at thy din.


No, 'pray thee? [Aside] I must obey: his art is of such power,



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