The king's son have I landed by himself;
Whom I left cooling of the air with sighs,
In an odd angle of the isle, and sitting,
His arms in this sad knot.

Pro.
Of the king's ship,
The mariners, say, how thou hast dispos'd,
And all the rest o' the fleet?

Ari. Safely in harbour Is the king's ship; in the deep nook, where once Thou call'dst me up at midnight to fetch dew From the still-vex'd Bermoothes, there she's hid: The mariners all under hatches stowed; Whom, with a charm join'd to their suffer'd labour,

I have left asleep and for the rest o' the fleet,
Which I dispers'd, they all have met again;
And are upon the Mediterranean flote2,
Bound sadly home for Naples;
Supposing that they saw the king's ship wreck'd,
And his great person perish.

Pro.

Ariel, thy charge Exactly is perform'd; but there's more work: What is the time o' the day?

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.

Pro.

How now ? moody?

What is't thou canst demand?

Ari.

My liberty. Pro. Before the time be out? no more. Ari. pray Remember, I have done thee worthy service; Told thee no lies, made no mistakings, serv'd

(1) Bermudas

(2) Wave.

thee

Without or grudge or grumblings: thou didst pro

mise

To bate me a full year.

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' the earth,
When it is bak'd with frost.

Ari.

I do not, sir. Pro. Thou liest, malignant thing! Hast thou forgot

envy,

The foul witch Sycorax, who, with age, and
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.1
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-ey'd 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 earthly and abhorr'd commands,
Refusing her grand hests2, she did confine thee,
By help of her more potent ministers,
And in her most unmitigable rage,

(1) Algiers.

(2) Commands.

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, And peg thee in his knotty entrails, till Thou hast howl'd away twelve winters. Ari. Pardon, master: I will be correspondent to command, And do my spiriting gently. Pro.

Do so; and after two days

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.

Awake, dear heart, awake! thou hast slept well; Exit Ariel. Awake!

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

VOL. I.

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

Shake it off: come on; .

Mira.

I do not love to look on.

Pro.

'Tis a villain, sir,

But, as 'tis,
We cannot miss1 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; 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
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. When thou camest first, Thou strok'dst me, and mad'st much of me; would'st 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' 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; I have us'd thee,

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.