But felt a fever of the mad, and play'd Pro. But was not this nigh shore? Why, that's my spirit! Close by, my master. Not a hair perish'd; Pro. But are they, Ariel, safe? Pro. Of the king's ship The mariners, say, how thou hast dispos'd, Ari. Whom, with a charm joined to their suffer'd labour, Supposing that they saw the king's ship wreck'd, Pro. Ariel, thy charge Exactly is perform'd; but there's more work. Ari. Past the mid season. Pro. At least two glasses. The time 'twixt six and now Must by us both be spent most preciously. Ari. Is there more toil? Since thou dost give me pains, Let me remember thee what thou hast promis'd, Which is not yet perform'd me. 1 are in f. e. 2 flote: in f. e. Pro. How now! moody? What is 't thou canst demand? Ari. My liberty. Pro. Before the time be out? no more. Ari. I prithee Remember, I have done thee worthy service; Pro. Dost thou forget From what a torment I did free thee? Ari. No. Pro. 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' th' earth, Ari. I do not, sir. Pro. 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. Pro. Thou hast. Where was she born? speak; tell me. Ari. Sir, in Argier. Pro. 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. Pro. This blue-eyed hag was hither brought with child, And here was left by the sailors: thou, my slave To act her earthy and abhorr'd commands, 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 a' son that she did litter here, A freckled whelp, hag-born) not honour'd with Ari. Yes; Caliban, her son. Pro. Dull thing, I say so; he, that Caliban, Ari. Thou hast howl'd away twelve winters. Ari. I will be correspondent to command, Pro. I will discharge thee. Ari. Pardon, master: Do so, and after two days That's my noble master! What shall I do? say what? what shall I do? Pro. Go, make thyself a like nymph2 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; Awake! Mira. The strangeness of your story put [Waking. Heaviness in me. . Pro. Shake it off. Come on: We'll visit Caliban, my slave, who never Yields us kind answer. Mira. I do not love to look on. Pro. 'Tis a villain, sir, But, as 'tis, 1 the in f. e. 2 like a in f. e. 3 Not in f. e. We cannot miss him: he does make our fire, Cal. [Within] There's wood enough within. Pro. 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. Ari. My lord, it shall be done. [Exit. Pro. Thou poisonous slave, got by the devil himself Upon thy wicked dam, come forth! Enter CALIBAN. Cal. As wicked dew, as e'er my mother brush'd And blister you all o'er! Pro. 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 honey-combs,' each pinch more stinging Cal. Which thou tak'st from me. When thou cam'st here first, 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 lov'd thee, 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, Thou most lying slave, Pro. Whom stripes may move, not kindness, I have us'd thee, Filth as thou art, with human care; and lodg'd thee 1 honey-comb: in f. e. In mine own cell, till thou didst seek to violate Cal. O ho! O ho!-would it had been done! Pro. Abhorred slave, Which any print of goodness will not take, Took pains to make thee speak, taught thee each hour With words that made them known: but thy vile race, Who hadst deserv'd more than a prison. Cal. 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! Pro. Hag-seed, hence! Fetch us in fuel; and be quick, thou'rt best, To answer other business. Shrug'st thou, malice? What I command, I'll rack thee with old cramps; Cal. No, pray thee! I must obey; his art is of such power, Pro. [Aside. So, slave; hence! [Exit CALIBAN. Re-enter ARIEL, invisible, playing and singing; FERDI NAND following.1 ARIEL'S Song. Come unto these yellow sands, And then take hands: The wild waves whist, Foot it featly here and there;2 1 f. e. have "him." 2 The old copies read: "Foot it featly here and there, and sweet sprites bear the burden." The MS. annotator of the folio of 1632, anticipated later critics in altering the passage as it stands in the text |