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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.

Ari.

Yes; Caliban, her son. Pro. 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 arriv'd, and heard thee, that made gape The pine, and let thee out.

Ari.

I thank thee, master. Pro. If thou more murmur'st, I will rend an oak, thee in his knotty entrails, till

And peg

Thou hast howl'd away twelve winters.

Ari.

Pardon, master:

Do so; and after two days

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

Pro.

I will discharge thee.

Ari. That's my noble master! What shall I do? say what: what shall I do? Pro. Go make thyself like to a nymph o' the sea; Be subject to no sight but mine; invisible To every eye-ball else. Go, take this shape, And hither come in't: hence, with diligence. Exit Ariel. Awake, dear heart, awake! thou hast slept well; Awake!

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

[blocks in formation]

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,

We cannot miss him: he does make our fire,
Fetch in our wood; and serves in offices

That profit us.

What, ho! slave! Caliban!

Thou earth, thou! speak.

Cal. [Within.] There's wood enough within. Pro. Come forth, I say; there's other business for thee;

Come forth, 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 With raven's feather from unwholesome fen, Drop on you both! a south-west blow on ye, 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; urchins2 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 Than bees that made them.

Cal.

I must eat my dinner. This island's mine, by Sycorax, my mother,

(1) Do without.

(2) Fairies.

Which thou tak'st from me.
Thou strok'dst me, and

would'st give me

When thou camest first, mad'st much of 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' 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!
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 of the island.

Pro.

Thou most lying slave, Whom stripes may move, not kindness;

us'd thee,

have

Filth as thou art, with human care; and lodg'd thee In mine own cell, till thou didst seek to violate The honour of my child.

Cal. O ho, Oho!-'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 will 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 would'st 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 confin'd into this rock,

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 rid1 you, For learning me your language!

Pro.
Hag-seed, hence!
Fetch us in fuel; and be quick, thou wert 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.

Cal. No, 'pray thee!—

I must obey his art is of such power,
It would control my dam's god, Setebos,
And make a vassal of him.

Pro.

[Aside.

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 kiss'd,
(The wild waves whist2)

Foot it featly here and there;

And, sweet sprites, the burden bear.

Hark, hark!

Bowgh, wowgh.

Bur

The watch-dogs bark:

Bur. Bowgh, wowgh.

Hark, hark! I hear

[dispersedly.

[dispersedly.

The strain of strutting chanticlere,

Cry, Cock-a-doodle-doo.

Fer. Where should this music be? i' the air, or

the earth?

(1) Destroy.

(2) Still, silent.

It sounds no more :-and sure, it waits upon
Some god of 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 follow'd it,
Or it hath drawn me rather :-But 'tis 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 drown'd father:

This is no mortal business, nor no sound
That the earth owes1:-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 'tis 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 stain'd
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.

I might call him

A thing divine; for nothing natural

(1) Owns.

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