Side-stitches that shall pen thy breath up. Urchins

Shall forth at vast of night, that they may work

All exercise on thee. Thou shalt be pinched

As thick as honeycomb, each pinch more stinging

Than bees that made ’em.

CALIBAN

I must eat my dinner.

This island’s mine, by Sycorax my mother,

Which thou tak’st from me. When thou cam’st first,

Thou strok’st me and made 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 thee,

And showed 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’th’ island.

PROSPERO

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.

CALIBAN

O ho,O ho! Would’t had been done!

Thou didst prevent me; I had peopled else

This isle with Calibans.

MIRANDA

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.

CALIBAN

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!

PROSPERO

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.

CALIBAN

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.

PROSPERO

So, slave, hence!

Exit Caliban

Enter Ariel ⌈like a water-nymph⌉,playing and

singing, invisible to Ferdinand, who follows.

⌈Prospero and Miranda stand aside⌉

Song

ARIEL

Come unto these yellow sands, And then take hands;

Curtsied when you have and kissed—

The wild waves whist—

Foot it featly here and there,

And, sweet sprites, bear

The burden. Hark, hark.

⌈SPIRITS⌉ (dispersedly within)

Bow-wow!

⌈ARIEL⌉

The watch-dogs bark.

FSPIRITS] (within) Bow-wow!

ARIEL

Hark, hark, I hear

The strain of strutting Chanticleer

Cry ‘cock-a-diddle-dow’.

FERDINAND

Where should this music be? I’th’ air or th’earth?

It sounds no more; and sure it waits upon

Some god o‘th’ 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 ’tis gone.

No, it begins again.

Song

ARIEL

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:

⌈SPIRITS⌉(within) Ding dong.

ARIEL

Hark, now I hear them.

⌈SPIRITS⌉(within)

Ding-dong bell. ⌈etc.⌉

FERDINAND

The ditty does remember my drowned father.

This is no mortal business, nor no sound

That the earth owes.

⌈Music⌉

I hear it now above me.

PROSPERO (to Miranda)

The fringed curtains of thine eye advance,

And say what thou seest yon.

MIRANDA

What is’t? A spirit?

Lord, how it looks about! Believe me, sir,

It carries a brave form. But ’tis a spirit.

PROSPERO

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 mightst call

him

A goodly person. He hath lost his fellows,

And strays about to find ’em.

MIRANDA

I might call him

A thing divine, for nothing natural

I ever saw so noble.

PROSPERO (aside)

It goes on, I see,

As my soul prompts it. (To Ariel) Spirit, fine spirit, I’ll

free thee

Within two days for this.

FERDINAND ⌈aside⌉

Most sure the goddess

On whom these airs attend. (To Miranda) Vouchsafe

my prayer 425

May know if you remain upon this island,

And that you will some good instruction give

How I may bear me here. My prime request,