Enter CALIBAN with a burden of wood. A noise of thunder heard.
Cal. All the infections that the sun sucks up From bogs, fens, flats, on Prosper fall, and make him By inch-meal a disease! His spirits hear me, And yet I needs must curse. But they’ll nor pinch, Fright me with urchin-shows, pitch me i’ the mire, Nor lead me, like a firebrand, in the dark Out of my way, unless he bid ’em: but For every trifle are they set upon me; Sometime like apes, that mow and chatter at me, And after bite me; then like hedgehogs, which Lie tumbling in my barefoot way, and mount Their pricks at my footfall; sometime am I All wound with adders, who with cloven tongues Do hiss me into madness.
Enter TRINCULO.
Lo, now, lo! Here comes a spirit of his, and to torment me For bringing wood in slowly. I’ll fall flat; Perchance he will not mind 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 bombard 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 but 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. Legged 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; 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, Here shall I die a-shore,--
This is a very scurvy tune to sing at a man’s funeral: well, here’s my comfort. [Drinks.
[Sings. The master, the swabber, the boatswain, and I, The gunner, and his mate, Loved Mall, Meg, and Marian, and Margery, But none of us cared for Kate; For she had a tongue with a tang, Would cry to a sailor, Go hang! She loved not the savour of tar nor of pitch; Yet a tailor might scratch her where’er she did itch. Then, to sea, boys, and let her go hang!
This is a scurvy tune too: but here’s my comfort. [Drinks.
Cal. Do not torment me:--O!
Ste. What’s the matter? Have we devils here? Do you put tricks upon ’s with savages and men of Ind, ha? I have not scaped 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’s 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, prithee; 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, I 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 be--but 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.
Trin. Stephano!
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 earnest thou to be the siege of this moon-calf? can he vent Trinculos?
Trin. I took him to be killed with a thunder-stroke. But art thou not drowned, Stephano? I hope, now, thou art not drowned. Is the storm overblown? I hid me under the dead moon-calf’s gaberdine for fear of the storm. And art thou living, Stephano? O Stephano, two Neapolitans scaped!
Ste. Prithee, do not turn me about; my stomach is not constant.
Cal. [aside] 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 camest thou hither? swear, by this bottle, how thou camest hither. I escaped upon a butt of sack, which the sailors heaved o’erboard, by this bottle! which I made of the bark of a tree with mine own hands, since I was cast ashore.
Cal. I’ll swear, upon that bottle, to be thy true subject; for the liquor is not earthly.
Ste. Here; swear, then, how thou escapedst.
Trin. Swum ashore, 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, thou 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 dropp’d from heaven?
Ste. Out o’ the moon, I do assure thee: I was the man i’ the moon when time was.
Cal. I have seen thee in her, and I do adore thee: My mistress show’d me thee, and thy dog, and thy 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’ th’ island; And I will kiss thy foot: I prithee, be my god.
Trin. By this light, a most perfidious and drunken monster! when’s god’s asleep, he’ll rob his bottle.
Cal. I’ll kiss thy foot; I’ll swear myself thy subject.
Ste. Come on, then; down, and swear.
Trin. I shall laugh myself to death at this puppy-headed 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!
Cal. I’ll show thee the best springs; I’ll pluck thee berries; I’ll fish for thee, and get thee wood enough. A plague upon the tyrant that I serve! I’ll bear him no more sticks, but follow thee, Thou wondrous man.
Trin. A most ridiculous monster, to make a wonder of a poor drunkard!
Cal. I prithee, let me bring thee where crabs grow; And I with my long nails will dig thee pig-nuts; Show thee a jay’s nest, and instruct thee how To snare the nimble marmoset; I’ll bring thee To clustering filberts, and sometimes I’ll get thee Young scamels from the rock. Wilt thou go with me?
Ste. I prithee now, lead the way, without any more talking. Trinculo, the king and all our company else being drowned, we will inherit here: here; bear my bottle: fellow Trinculo, we’ll fill him by and by again.
Cal. sings drunkenly.] Farewell, master; farewell, farewell!
Trin. A howling monster; a drunken monster!
Cal. No more dams I’ll make for fish; Nor fetch in firing At requiring; Nor scrape trencher, nor wash dish: ’Ban, ’Ban, Cacaliban Has a new master:--get a new man.
Freedom, hey-day! hey-day, freedom! freedom, hey-day, freedom!
Ste. O brave monster! Lead the way. [Exeunt.