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; 40 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.

Pros. 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.
Pros. If thou more murmur'st, I will rend an oak,
And peg thee in his knotty entrails, till

Thou'st howl'd away twelve Winters.

Ari.

Pardon, master:

Do so; and after two days

That's my noble master!

What shall I do? say what; what shall I do?

Pros. Go make thyself like to a nymph o' the sea:
Be subject to no sight but mine; invisible

To every eyeball else. Go take this shape,
And hither come in't: hence, with diligence-!

[Exit ARIEL.

Awake, dear heart, awake! thou hast slept well;
Awake!

Mira. [Waking.] The strangeness of your story put Heaviness in me.

Pros.

Shake it off: come on; We'll visit Caliban my slave, who never

Yields us kind answer.

40 In such cases the Poet uses into or in indifferently, as suits his verse.Hests, fourth line above, is commands, behests. See vol. i. page 277, note 7.

Mira.

"Tis a villain, sir,

But, as 'tis,

I do not love to look on.

Pros.

We cannot miss him: 41 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.
Pros. Come forth, I say! there's other business for

thee:

Come forth, thou tortoise! when? 42

Re-enter ARIEL, like a Water-nymph.

Fine apparition! My quaint Ariel,13

Hark in thine ear.

Ari.

My lord, it shall be done. Pros. Thou poisonous slave, 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 southwest blow on ye,

And blister you all o'er!

[Exit.

Pros. For this, be sure, to-night thou shalt have

cramps,

Side-stitches that shall pen thy breath up; urchins **
Shall, for that vast 45 of night that they may work,
All exercise on thee: thou shalt be pinch'd

As thick as honeycomb, each pinch more stinging
Than bees that made 'em.

Cal.

I must eat my dinner. This island's mine, by Sycorax my mother, Which thou tak'st from me. When thou cam'st here

first,

Thou strok'dst me, and mad'st much of me; would'st

give me

41 We cannot do without him. The phrase is said to be common still in some parts of England.

42 When was sometimes used as an exclamation of impatience. See vol. i. page 449, note 2.

48 Quaint, as here used, is ingenious, artful, cunning. See vol. i. page 546, note 3.

44 Urchins were fairies of a particular class. Hedgehogs were also called urchins; and it is probable that the sprites were so named, because they were of a mischievous kind, the urchin being anciently deemed a very noxious animal.

45 So in Hamlet, i. 2, "in the dead vast and middle of the night"; meaning the silent void or vacancy of night, when spirits were anciently supposed to walk abroad on errands of love or sport or mischief.

1

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 so! 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 o' the island.

Pros.

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!·

Thou didst prevent me.

Pros.

would 't had been done!

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 would'st gabble like

A thing most brutish, I endow'd thy purposes

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

Pros.

Hag-seed, hence! Fetch us in fuel; and be quick, thou'rt best,

46

To answer other business. Shrugg'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,48 make thee roar,
That beasts shall tremble at thy din.

Cal.

47

No, pray thee!

46 Rid here means destroy. So in King Richard II., v. 4. "I am the King's friend, and will rid his foe."

47 Old was often used as an augmentative, meaning great, abundant. See vol. i. page 163, note 2.

48 Ache was formerly pronounced like the letter H. The plural aches was therefore a word of two syllables, as the verse requires it to be here.

We

[Aside.] I must obey: his art is of such power,
It would control my dam's god, Setebos,49
And make a vassal of him.

Pros.

So, slave; hence!.

[Exit CALIBAN.

Re-enter ARIEL invisible, playing and singing;

Burden.

FERDINAND following.

ARIEL'S Song.

Come unto these yellow sands,

And then take hands:

Curtsied when you have, and kiss'd

The wild waves whist,50

Foot it featly here and there ;
And, sweet sprites, the burden bear.
Hark, hark!

[Dispersedly, within.] Bow, wow.
The watch-dogs bark:

Burden. [Dispersedly, within.]

Hark, hark! I hear

Bow, wow.

The strain of strutting chanticleer
Cry, Cock-a-diddle-doo.

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

It sounds no more: and, sure, it waits upon
Some god o' 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

have many instances of such pronunciation in the old writers. Thus in Antony and Cleopatra, iv. 7: "I had a wound here that was like a T, but now 'tis made an H." It is said that Kemble the actor undertook to revive the old pronunciation of aches on the stage; but the audience would not stand it, and hissed him out of it. However correct literally, the attempt, it must be confessed, savoured more of pedantry than of good judgment.

49 Setebos was the name of an American god, or rather devil, worshipped by the Patagonians. In Eden's History of Travaile, 1577, is an account of Magellan's voyage to the South Pole, containing a description of this god and his worshippers; wherein the author says: "When they felt the shackles fast about their legs, they began to doubt; but the captain did put them in comfort and bade them stand still. In fine, when they saw how they were deceived, they roared like bulls, and cryed upon their great devil Setebos, to help them."

50 So printed in the original; meaning, apparently, "Kiss'd the wild waves into stillness or peace." In modern editions generally "The wild waves whist" is made parenthetical, so as to mean "The wild waves being whist." This, seems to me, without bettering the sense, expunges a delicate touch of poetry that is well worth keeping.

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:
Ding-dong.

Burden. [Within.]

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

Ferd. The ditty does remember my drown'd father: This is no mortal business, nor no sound

That the earth owes : 51 I hear it now above me.
Pros. 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.

Pros. No, wench; 52 it eats and sleeps, and hath such

senses

As we have, such. This gallant which thou seest

Was in the wreck; and, but 58 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 'em.

Mira.

I might call him

It goes on, I see,

A thing divine; for nothing natural
I ever saw so noble.
Pros. [Aside.]
As my soul prompts it.
Within two days for this.
Ferd.

Spirit, fine spirit! I'll free thee

Most sure, the goddess
Vouchsafe my prayer

On whom these airs attend!
May know if you remain upon this island;
And that you will some good instruction give
How I may bear me here: My prime request,

51 To owe was to possess or own, in ancient language.

52 Wench was often used thus as a term of playful familiarity, without implying anything of reproach or contempt.

53 This is the exceptive but, as it is called; formed from be out, and meaning except that. So, once before in this scene: "The bettering of mind my with that which, but by being so retir'd, o'erpriz'd all popular rate."