Enter Caliban.

Cal. As wicked dew, as e'er my mother brush'd With raven's feather from unwholefome fen,

Drop on you both! a fouth-west blow on ye,

And blifter you all o'er!

Pro. For this, be fure, to-night thou fhalt have cramps,
Side-stitches that fhall pen thy breath up; e urchins
Shall, for that 'vaft 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 'em.

Cal. I must eat my dinner.

This ifland's mine, by Sycorax my mother,

Which thou tak'ft from me. When thou camest first, Thou ftroak'dft me, and mad'ft much of me; would'st

give me

Water with berries in't; and teach me how

To name the bigger light, and how the lefs,

That burn by day and night: and then I lov'd thee,

And shew'd thee all the qualities o' the isle,

The fresh springs, brine-pits, barren place, and fertile;
Curfed be I, that did fo!-All the charms

Of Sycorax, toads, beetles, bats, light on you!
For I am all the subjects that you have,

Who firft was mine own king: and here you fty me
In this hard rock, whiles you do keep from me
The rest of the island.

Pro. Thou moft lying flave,

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 feek to violate

The honour of my

child.

Cal. Oh ho, oh ho!-wou'd it had been done!

Thou didst prevent me; I had peopled else

This ifle with Calibans.

Pro. Abhorred flave;

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, favage,
"Know thy own meaning, but wouldft gabble like
A thing moft brutish, I endow'd thy purposes

With words that made them known: But thy vild race
Though thou didst learn, had that in't which good natures
Could not abide to be with; therefore waft thou

Defervedly confin'd into this rock,

Who hadft deferv'd more than a prison.

k

Cal. You taught me language; and my profit on't Is, I know how to curfe: The red plague rid you, For learning me your language!

Pro. Hag-feed, hence!

Fetch us in fewel; and be quick, thou we'rt beft,
To answer other bufinefs. Shrug'ft thou, malice?
If thou neglect'ft, or doft unwillingly

What I command, I'll rack thee with old cramps;
Fill all thy bones with aches; make thee roar,
That beafts fhall tremble at thy din.

Cal. No, 'pray thee !—

I must obey his art is of fuch power,

[Afide.

& could'ft not. h fhew thy. vild race]-vile, crabbed difpofiticn. * The red plague rid you,]-The plague, in its utmost virulence, blast and deftroy you.-The Erysipelas was fo called.

"Now the red peftilence strike all trades in Rome." CORIOLANUS, A& IV, S. 1. Vol.

It would controul my dam's god 'Setebos,

And make a vaffal of him!

Pro. So, flave; hence!

[Exit Caliban.

Enter Ferdinand at the remoteft part of the stage, and Ariel invifible, playing and finging. Ariel's Song.

Come unto thefe yellow fands,

And then take bands:

Court'fied when you have, and kiss'd,
(The wild waves whift)

m

Foot it featly here and there;

And, fweet Sprites, the burden bear.
Hark, bark!

Bur. Bowgh, wowgh.

The watch-dogs bark:

Bur. Bowgh, wowgh.

Hark, bark! I hear

["difperfedly.

The ftrains of ftrutting chanticlere

Cry, Cock-a-doodle-doo.

Fer. Where fhould this mufick be? i' the air, or the

earth?

It founds no more:-and fure, it waits upon
Some god of the island. Sitting on a bank,
Weeping again the king my father's wreck,
This mufic crept by me upon the waters;
Allaying both their fury, and my paffion,
With its sweet air: thence I have follow'd it,
Or it hath drawn me rather :-But 'tis gone.
No, it begins again.

1 Setebos,]-a demon dreaded by the Patagons.
whift]-being filent.

difperfedly.]-from different parts of the stage,

Ariel's Song.

Full fathom five thy father lies,
Of his bones are coral made;
Thofe are pearls, that were his eyes:
Nothing of him that doth fade,
But doth fuffer a fea-change,
Into fomething 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 found

That the earth owes :-I hear it now above me.

Pro. The fringed curtains of thine eye advance,

And fay, what thou feeft yond'.

Mira. What is't? a fpirit?

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

It carries a brave form :-But 'tis a fpirit.

Pro. No, wench; it eats, and fleeps, and hath fuch fenfes As we have, fuch: This gallant, which.thou feest,

Was in the wreck; and, but he's fomething ftain'd
With grief, that's beauty's canker, thou might'ft call him
A goodly perfon: he hath loft his fellows,

And strays about to find them.

Mira. I might call him

A thing divine; for nothing natural

I ever faw fo noble.

Pro. It goes on, I fee,

[Afide.

As my foul prompts it :-Spirit, fine fpirit, I'll free thee

Within two days for this.

Fer. Moft fure, the goddess

[Seeing Mira.

On whom these airs attend !-Vouchfafe, my prayer

oves]-for this word, which occurs frequently in our author, we

now constantly write own, when it relates to poffeflion.

May

remain upon

this island;

May know, if you

And that you will fome good inftruction give,
How I may bear me here: My prime request,

Which I do last pronounce, is, O you

If you be 'maid, or no?

Mira. No wonder, fir;

But, certainly a maid.

Fer. My language! heavens !

wonder!

I am the best of them that speak this speech,
Were I but where 'tis spoken.

Pro. How! the best?

What wert thou, if the king of Naples heard thee?
Fer A fingle thing, as I am now, that wonders
To hear thee speak of Naples: He does hear me;
And, that he does, I weep: myself am Naples;
Who with mine eyes, ne'er fince at ebb, beheld
The king my father wreck'd.

Mira. Alack, for mercy!

Fer. Yes, faith, and all his lords; the duke of Milan, And his brave fon, being twain.

Pro. The duke of Milan,

And his more braver daughter, could controul thee,
If now 'twere fit to do't:At the first fight

They have chang'd eyes :-Delicate Ariel,

[Afide to Ariel.

I'll fet thee free for this.--A word, good fir;

I fear, you have done yourself some wrong: a word-
Mira. Why speaks my father so ungently? This
Is the third man that I e'er faw; the first,

That e'er I figh'd for: pity move my father
To be inclin'd my way!

P maid]-made; a woman, a created being.

9 controul]-contradict, confute.

fome wrong:]-in fuppofing yourfelf king of Naples.

Fer.