Abbildungen der Seite



Pros. Thou dost, and think'st it much to tread the ooze
Of the salt deep,

To run upon the sharp wind of the north,
To do me business in the veins o' the earth
When it is baked with frost.

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?
No, sir.



Thou hast. Where was she born?

speak; tell me.

[blocks in formation]


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.

Ay, sir.

Is not this true?

Pros. This blue-eyed hag was hither brought with



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



As fast as mill-wheels strike. Then was this


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.
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 spiriting 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? 300 Pros. Go make thyself like a nymph o' the sea: be


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;



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.

[ocr errors][merged small]


'Tis a villain, sir,

But, as 'tis,

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.

Cal. [Within.]


There's wood enough within.

Pros. Come forth, I say! there's other business for

[blocks in formation]

Pros. Thou poisonous slave, got by the devil himself Upon thy wicked dam, come forth!


Enter Caliban.

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; urchins Shall, for that 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.

I must eat my dinner.
This island's mine, by Sycorax my mother,
Which thou takest from me.


331 When thou camest

Thou strokedst me and madest 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' the 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! 340
For I am all the subjects that you have,

Which first was mine own king: and here you sty


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.

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

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


Though thou didst learn, had that in 't which good


Could not abide to be with; therefore wast thou
Deservedly confined into this rock,

Who hadst deserved more than a prison.


You taught me language; and my profit on 't
Is, I know how to curse. The red plague rid you
For learning me your language!

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 cramps,
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, It would control my dam's god, Setebos,

And make a vassal of him.

So, slave; hence! [Exit Caliban.

« ZurückWeiter »