The Tempest (6 page)

CALIBAN
    As wicked dew as e’er my mother brushed

With raven’s feather from unwholesome
fen
³⁷⁹

Drop on you both! A
southwest
³⁸⁰
blow on ye

And blister you all o’er!

PROSPERO
    For this, be sure, tonight thou shalt have cramps,

Side-stitches that shall pen thy breath up:
urchins
³⁸³

Shall, for that
vast
³⁸⁴
of night that they may work,

All
exercise
³⁸⁵
on thee: thou shalt be pinched

As thick as honeycomb
³⁸⁶
, each pinch more stinging

Than
bees that made
’em.
³⁸⁷

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
³⁹²
in’t, and teach me how

To name the
bigger light, and how the less
³⁹³
,

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
³⁹⁶
, barren place and fertile.

Cursed be I that did so! All the
charms
³⁹⁷

Of Sycorax — toads, beetles, bats —
light
³⁹⁸
on you!

For I am all the subjects that you have,

Which first was mine own king: and here you
sty
⁴⁰⁰
me

In this
hard rock
⁴⁰¹
, 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
⁴⁰⁴
thee —

Filth as thou art — with
humane
⁴⁰⁵
care, and lodged thee

In mine own cell, till thou didst seek to
violate
⁴⁰⁶

The honour of my child.

CALIBAN
    O ho, O ho! Would’t had been done!

Thou didst prevent me:
I had peopled else
⁴⁰⁹

This isle with Calibans.

MIRANDA
    Abhorrèd slave,

Which any
print
⁴¹²
of goodness wilt not take,

Being
capable of all ill.
⁴¹³
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
⁴¹⁸
—

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
⁴²²
than a prison.

CALIBAN
    You taught me language, and my profit on’t

Is, I know how to curse. The
red-plague
rid
⁴²⁴
you

For
learning
⁴²⁵
me your language.

PROSPERO
    
Hag-seed
⁴²⁶
, hence!

Fetch us in fuel, and be quick:
thou’rt best
⁴²⁷

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
⁴³⁰
,

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
⁴³⁵
,

And make a
vassal
⁴³⁶
of him.

PROSPERO
    So, slave, hence!

ARIEL
         Come unto these yellow sands,

                  And then take hands:

                  Curtsied when you have, and kissed

                  The wild waves
whist
⁴⁴¹
:

                  
Foot it featly
⁴⁴²
here and there,

                  And, sweet sprites, bear

                  The
burden.
⁴⁴⁴

[
SPIRITS
      
Within, sing the
]
(burden, dispersedly)

                  Hark, hark! Bow-wow!

                  The watch-dogs bark: bow-wow.

ARIEL
         Hark, hark! I hear

                  The
strain
of strutting
chanticleer
⁴⁴⁸

                  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
⁴⁵¹

Some god o’th’island. Sitting on a bank,

Weeping again
the
⁴⁵³
king my father’s wreck,

This music crept by me upon the waters,

Allaying both their fury and my
passion
⁴⁵⁵

With its sweet air: thence I have followed it —

Or it hath drawn me rather — but ’tis gone.

No, it begins again.

ARIEL
        Full
fathom five
⁴⁵⁹
thy father lies,

                  Of his bones are coral made:

                  Those are pearls that were his eyes:

                  Nothing of him that doth
fade
⁴⁶²
,

                  But doth
suffer
⁴⁶³
a sea-change

                  Into something rich and strange.

                  Sea-nymphs hourly ring his
knell
⁴⁶⁵
:

[
SPIRITS
    
Within, sing the
]
(burden)
Ding-dong.

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

FERDINAND
    The
ditty
does remember
⁴⁶⁸
my drowned father.

This is no
mortal
⁴⁶⁹
business, nor no sound

That the earth
owes.
⁴⁷⁰
I hear it now above me.

PROSPERO
    The
fringèd curtains
of thine eye
advance
⁴⁷¹

And say what thou see’st
yond.
⁴⁷²

MIRANDA
    What is’t? A spirit?

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

It carries a
brave
⁴⁷⁵
form. But ’tis a spirit.

PROSPERO
    No, wench: it eats, and sleeps, and hath such senses

As we have, such. This
gallant
⁴⁷⁷
which thou see’st

Was in the wreck: and,
but
he’s
something
⁴⁷⁸
stained

With grief — that’s beauty’s
canker
⁴⁷⁹
— thou mightst call him

A
goodly
⁴⁸⁰
person: he hath lost his fellows

And strays about to find ’em.

MIRANDA
    I might call him

A thing divine, for nothing
natural
⁴⁸³

I ever saw so noble.

PROSPERO
    It goes on, I see,

As my soul
prompts
⁴⁸⁶
it.— Spirit, fine spirit: I’ll free thee

To Ariel

Within two days for this.

FERDINAND
    Most sure, the goddess

On whom these
airs
attend!
Vouchsafe
⁴⁸⁹
my prayer

May know if you
remain
⁴⁹⁰
upon this island,

And that you will some good instruction give

How I may
bear me
⁴⁹²
here: my prime request,

Which I do last pronounce, is — O you
wonder!
⁴⁹³
—

If you be
maid
⁴⁹⁴
or no?

MIRANDA
    No wonder, sir,

But certainly a maid.

FERDINAND
    My language? Heavens!

I am the
best
⁴⁹⁸
of them that speak this speech,

Were I but
where
⁴⁹⁹
’tis spoken.

PROSPERO
    How? The best?

What wert thou if the King of Naples heard thee?

FERDINAND
    A
single thing
⁵⁰²
, as I am now, that wonders

To hear thee speak of Naples.
He
⁵⁰³
does hear me:

And that he does, I weep. Myself am Naples,

Who with mine eyes, never since at
ebb
⁵⁰⁵
, beheld

The king my father wrecked.

MIRANDA
    Alack, for mercy!

FERDINAND
    Yes, faith, and all his lords, the Duke of Milan

And his brave
son
being
twain.
⁵⁰⁹

PROSPERO
    The Duke of Milan

Aside

And his more braver daughter could
control
⁵¹¹
thee

If now ’twere fit to do’t. At the first sight

They have
changed eyes.
—
Delicate
⁵¹³
Ariel,

I’ll set thee free for this.— A word, good sir,

To Ferdinand

I fear you have
done yourself some wrong
⁵¹⁵
: a word.

MIRANDA
    Why speaks my father so
ungently?
⁵¹⁶
This

Is the third man that e’er I saw: the first

That e’er I sighed for. Pity move my father

To be inclined my way.

FERDINAND
    O, if a virgin,

And
your affection not gone forth
⁵²¹
, I’ll make you

The Queen of Naples.

PROSPERO
    
Soft
⁵²³
, sir, one word more.—

They are both in
either’s
⁵²⁴
powers: but this swift business

Aside

I must
uneasy
make, lest too
light
⁵²⁵
winning

Make the prize light.— One word more: I
charge
⁵²⁶
thee

That thou
attend
⁵²⁷
me: thou dost here usurp

The name thou
ow’st not
⁵²⁸
, and hast put thyself

Upon this island as a spy, to win it

From me, the lord
on’t.
⁵³⁰

FERDINAND
    No, as I am a man.

MIRANDA
    There’s nothing ill can dwell in such a
temple
⁵³²
:

If the ill-spirit have so fair a house,

Good things will strive to dwell with’t.

PROSPERO
    Follow me.—

Speak not you for him: he’s a traitor.— Come:

I’ll manacle thy neck and feet together:

Seawater shalt thou drink: thy food shall be

The
fresh-brook mussels
⁵³⁹
, withered roots and husks

Wherein the acorn cradled. Follow.

FERDINAND
    No!

I will resist such
entertainment
⁵⁴²
till

Mine enemy has more power.

MIRANDA
    O dear father,

Make not too rash a trial of him, for

He’s
gentle
, and not
fearful.
⁵⁴⁶

PROSPERO
    What, I say,

My
foot
⁵⁴⁸
my tutor?— Put thy sword up, traitor:

Who mak’st a show but dar’st not strike, thy conscience

Is so possessed with guilt. Come from thy
ward
⁵⁵⁰
,

For I can here disarm thee with this stick,

Brandishes his staff

And make thy weapon drop.

MIRANDA
    Beseech you, father.

Kneels or attempts
to stop him

PROSPERO
    Hence! Hang not on my garments.

MIRANDA
    Sir, have pity:

I’ll be his
surety.
⁵⁵⁶

PROSPERO
    Silence! One word more

Shall make me
chide
⁵⁵⁸
thee, if not hate thee. What,

An advocate for an impostor? Hush!

Thou think’st there is no more such
shapes
⁵⁶⁰
as he,

Having seen but him and Caliban. Foolish wench,

To
⁵⁶²
th’most of men this is a Caliban,

And they to him are angels.

MIRANDA
    My affections

Are then most humble: I have no ambition

To see a goodlier man.