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Heard you this, Gonzalo? Gon. Upon mine honour, sir, I heard a humming,
And that a strange one too, which did awake me:
For my poor son.
Gon. Heavens keep him from these beasts! For he is, sure, i' the island.
Ari. Prospero my lord shall know what I have done:
So, king, go safely on to seek thy son.
SCENE II-Another part of the Island. ter Caliban, with a burden of wood. A norse of thunder heard.
Cal. All the infections that the sun sucks up From bogs, fens, flats, on Prosper fall, and make
By inch-meal a disease! His spirits hear me,
(1) Make mouths.
Here comes a spirit of his; and to torment me,
Trin. Here's neither bush nor shrub, to bear off any weather at all, and another storm brewing; I hear it sing i' the wind: yond' same black cloud, yond' huge one, looks like a foul bumbard1 that would shed his liquor. If it should thunder, as it did before, I know not where to hide my head: yond' same cloud cannot choose but fall by pailfuls. What have we here? a man or a fish? Dead or alive? A fish he smells like a fish; a very ancient and fish-like smell; a kind of, not of the newest, Poor John. A strange fish! Were I in England now (as once I was,) and had this fish painted, not a holiday-fool there but would give a piece of silver: there would this monster make a man; any strange beast there makes a man: when they will not give a doit to relieve a lame beggar, they will lay out ten to see a dead Indian. Legg'd like a man! and his fins like arms! Warm, o' my troth! I do now let loose my opinion, hold it no longer; this is no fish, but an islander, that hath lately suffered by a thunderbolt. [Thunder.] Alas! the storm is come again: my best way is to creep under his gaberdine;2 there is no other shelter hereabout: misery acquaints a man with strange bed-fellows. I will here shroud, till the dregs of the storm be past.
Enter Stephano, singing; a bottle in his hand,
Ste. I shall no more to sea, to sea,
This is a very scurvy tune to sing at a man's funeral: Well, here's my comfort.
(1) A black jack of leather, to hold beer.
The master, the swabber, the boatswain, and I,
Lov'd Mall, Meg, and Marian, and Margery,
Cal. Do not torment me: O!
Ste. What's the matter? Have we devils here? Do you put tricks upon us with savages, and men of Inde? Ha! I have not 'scap'd drowning, to be afeard now of your four legs; for it hath been said, As proper a man as ever went on four legs, cannot make him give ground: and it shall be said so again, while Stephano breathes at nostrils.
Cal. The spirit torments me: O!
Ste. This is some monster of the isle, with four legs; who hath got, as I take it, an ague: where the devil should he learn our language? I will give him some relief, if it be but for that: if I can recover him, and keep him tame, and get to Naples with him, he's a present for any emperor that ever trod on neat's-leather.
Cal. Do not torment me, pr'ythee; I'll bring my wood home faster.
Ste. He's in his fit now; and does not talk after the wisest. He shall taste of my bottle: if he have never drunk wine afore, it will go near to remove his fit: if I can recover him, and keep him tame, I will not take too much for him: he shall pay for him that hath him, and that soundly.
Cal. Thou dost me yet but little hurt; thou wilt Anon, I know it by thy trembling: Now Prosper works upon thee.
Ste. Come on your ways; open your mouth; here is that which will give language to you, cat; open your mouth: this will shake your shaking, Í can tell you, and that soundly: you cannot tell who's your friend: open your chaps again.
Trin. I should know that voice: it should bebut he is drowned; and these are devils: O! defend me !
Ste. Four legs, and two voices; a most delicate monster! His forward voice now is to speak well of his friend; his backward voice is to utter foul speeches, and to detract. If all the wine in my bottle will recover him, I will help his ague: come,Amen! I will pour some in thy other mouth.
Ste. Doth thy other mouth call me? Mercy! mercy! this is a devil, and no monster: I will leave him; I have no long spoon.
Trin. Stephano!-if thou beest Stephano, touch me, and speak to me; for I am Trinculo;-be not afeard, thy good friend Trinculo.
Ste. If thou beest Trinculo, come forth; I'll pull thee by the lesser legs: if any be Trinculo's legs, these are they. Thou art very Trinculo, indeed: how cam'st thou to be the siegel of this moon-calf? Can he vent Trinculos?
Trin. I took him to be kill'd with a thunderstroke-But art thou not drowned, Stephano? I hope now, thou art not drowned. Is the storm
over-blown? I hid me under the dead moon-calf's gaberdine, for fear of the storm: and art thou living, Stephano? O Stephano, two Neapolitans 'scap'd!
Ste. Pr'ythee, do not turn me about; my stomach is not constant.
Cal. These be fine things, an if they be not sprites. That's a brave god, and bears celestial liquor: I will kneel to him.
Ste. How didst thou 'scape? How cam'st thou
hither? swear by this bottle, how thou cam'st hither. I escap'd upon a butt of sack, which the sailors heav'd over-board, by this bottle! which I made of the bark of a tree, with mine own hands, since I was cast a-shore.
Cal. I'll swear, upon that bottle, to be thy True subject; for the liquor is not earthly.
Ste. Here; swear then how thou escap'dst. Trin. Swam a-shore, man, like a duck; I can swim like a duck, I'll be sworn.
Ste. Here, kiss the book: though thou canst swim like a duck, that art made like a goose.
Trin. O Stephano, hast any more of this? Ste. The whole butt, man; my cellar is in a rock by the sea-side, where my wine is hid. How now, moon-calf? how does thine ague?
Cal. Hast thou not dropped from heaven?
Ste. Out o' the moon, I do assure thee: I was the man in the moon, when time was.
Cal. I have seen thee in her, and I do adore thee; My mistress showed me thee, thy dog, and bush.
Ste. Come, swear to that; kiss the book: I will furnish it anon with new contents: swear.
Trin. By this good light, this is a very shallow monster:-I afeard of him?-a very weak monster: -The man i' the moon?-a most poor credulous monster:-well drawn, monster, in good sooth.
Cal. I'll show thee every fertile inch o' the island; And kiss thy foot: I pr'ythee, be my god.
Trin. By this light, a most perfidious and drunken monster; when his god's asleep, he'll rob his bottle. Cal. I'll kiss thy foot: I'll swear myself thy sub
Ste. Come on then; down, and swear.
Trin. I shall laugh myself to death at this puppyheaded monster: a most scurvy monster! I could find in my heart to beat him,
Ste. Come, kiss.
Trin. but that the poor monster's in drink: an abominable monster!