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. I pray thee

Remember, I have done thee worthy service;
Told thee no lies, made no mistakings, serv'd
Without or grudge, or grumblings: thou didst promise
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 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-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 hests, she did confine thee,
By help of her more potent ministers,
And in her most unmitigable rage,
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 spriting 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. [Exit Ari.
Awake, dear heart, awake! thou hast slept well;
Awake!

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

Pro. Shake it off: Come on;

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

Mira. 'Tis a villain, sir,
I do not love to look on.
Pro. 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; urchins Shall, for that vast of night that they may work, All exercise on thee: thou shalt be pinch'd As thick as honeycombs, each pinch more stinging Than bees that made them.

Cal. I must eat my dinner.

This island's mine, by Sycorax my mother,
Which thou tak'st from me. When thou camest first,
Thou strok'st me, and mad'st 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 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 sol-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, O ho!-'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 wouldst gabble like
A thing most brutish, I endow'd thy purposes
With words that made them known: But thy vile 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 rid you, For learning me your language!

Pro. Hag-seed, hence!

Fetch us in fuel; and be quick, th' 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. So, slave; hence!

[Aside.

[Exit Caliban.

Re-enter ARIEL invisible, playing and singing; FER

Bur.

DINAND 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 whist)
Foot it featly here and there;
And, sweet sprites, the burden bear.

Hark, hark!

Bowgh, wowgh.
The watch-dogs bark:

[Dispersedly.

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

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 :
Hark! now I hear them,-ding-dong, bell.

[Burden, ding-dong.

Fer. The ditty does remember my drown'd father :-This is no mortal business, nor no sound That the earth owes:-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

I ever saw so noble.

Pro. It goes on,

[Aside.

As my soul prompts it: Spirit, fine spirit, I'll free thee

Within two days for this.

Fer. Most sure, the goddess

On whom these airs attend! Vouchsafe, my prayer May know, if you remain upon this island;