Act 2, Scene 2
Another part of the island.
- Enter Caliban with a burden of wood.
- A noise of thunder heard.
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- 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’ th’ mire,
- Nor lead me, like a fire-brand, 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.
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- Here’s neither bush nor shrub to bear off any weather at
- all. And another storm brewing, I hear it sing i’ th’ wind.
- Yond same black cloud, yond huge one, looks like a foul
- bumbard 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.
- Legg’d 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 suffer’d
- by a thunderbolt.
- 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 bedfellows; I will here shroud
- till the dregs of the storm be past.
- Enter Stephano, singing, a bottle in his hand.
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- “I shall no more to sea, to sea,
- Here shall I die ashore—”
- This is a very scurvy tune to sing at a man’s funeral.
- Well, here’s my comfort.
- “The master, the swabber, the boatswain, and I,
- The gunner and his mate,
- Lov’d Mall, Meg, and Marian, and Margery,
- But none of us car’d for Kate;
- For she had a tongue with a tang,
- Would cry to a sailor, ‘Go hang!’
- She lov’d not the savor of tar nor of pitch,
- Yet a tailor might scratch her where e’er she did itch.
- Then to sea, boys, and let her go hang!”
- This is a scurvy tune too; but here’s my comfort.
- Do not torment me! O!
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- What’s the matter? Have we devils here? Do you put tricks
- upon ’s with salvages and men of Inde? Ha? I have not scap’d
- 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’ nostrils.
- The spirit torments me! O!
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- 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.
- Do not torment me, prithee. I’ll bring my wood home faster.
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- 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.
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- Thou dost me yet but little hurt; thou wilt anon, I know it
- by thy trembling. Now Prosper works upon thee.
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- 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.
- Caliban drinks.
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- I should know that voice; it should be—but he is drown’d;
- and these are devils. O, defend me!
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- 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.
- Caliban drinks again.
- Amen! I will pour some in thy other mouth.
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- Doth thy other mouth call me? Mercy, mercy! This is a devil,
- and no monster. I will leave him, I have no long spoon.
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- Stephano! If thou beest Stephano, touch me, and speak to me;
- for I am Trinculo—be not afeard—thy good friend Trinculo.
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- 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 cam’st thou to be the siege of
- this moon-calf? Can he vent Trinculos?
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- I took him to be kill’d with a thunder-stroke. But art thou
- not drown’d, Stephano? I hope now thou art not drown’d. 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 scap’d!
- Prithee do not turn me about, my stomach is not constant.
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- These be fine things, and if they be not sprites.
- That’s a brave god, and bears celestial liquor.
- I will kneel to him.
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- How didst thou scape? How cam’st thou hither? Swear by this
- bottle how thou cam’st hither—I escap’d upon a butt of sack
- which the sailors heav’d o’erboard—by this bottle, which I
- made of the bark of a tree with mine own hands since I was
- cast ashore.
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- I’ll swear upon that bottle to be thy true subject, for the
- liquor is not earthly.
- Here; swear then how thou escap’dst.
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- Sworn ashore, man, like a duck. I can swim like a duck, I’ll
- be sworn.
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- Here, kiss the book.
- Passing the bottle.
- Though thou canst swim like a duck, thou art made like a
- O Stephano, hast any more of this?
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- The whole butt, man. My cellar is in a rock by th’ sea-side,
- where my wine is hid. How now, moon-calf? How does thine
- Hast thou not dropp’d from heaven?
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- Out o’ th’ moon, I do assure thee. I was the Man i’ th’
- Moon, when time was.
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- I have seen thee in her, and I do adore thee.
- My mistress show’d me thee, and thy dog, and thy bush.
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- Come, swear to that; kiss the book. I will furnish it anon
- with new contents. Swear.
- Caliban drinks.
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- By this good light, this is a very shallow monster! I afeard
- of him? A very weak monster! The Man i’ th’ Moon? A most
- poor credulous monster! Well drawn, monster, in good sooth!
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- I’ll show thee every fertile inch o’ th’ island;
- And I will kiss thy foot. I prithee be my god.
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- By this light, a most perfidious and drunken monster! When
- ’s god’s asleep, he’ll rob his bottle.
- I’ll kiss thy foot. I’ll swear myself thy subject.
- Come on then; down, and swear.
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- I shall laugh myself to death at this puppy-headed monster.
- A most scurvy monster! I could find in my heart to beat him—
- Come, kiss.
- But that the poor monster’s in drink. An abominable monster!
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- 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.
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- A most ridiculous monster, to make a wonder of a poor
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- 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 marmazet. I’ll bring thee
- To clust’ring filberts, and sometimes I’ll get thee
- Young scamels from the rock. Wilt thou go with me?
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- I prithee now lead the way without any more talking.
- Trinculo, the King and all our company else being drown’d,
- we will inherit here. Here! Bear my bottle. Fellow Trinculo,
- we’ll fill him by and by again.
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- Sings drunkenly.
- Farewell, master; farewell, farewell!
- A howling monster; a drunken monster!
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- No more dams I’ll make for fish,
- Nor fetch in firing
- At requiring,
- Nor scrape trenchering, nor wash dish.
- ’Ban, ’Ban, Ca-Caliban
- Has a new master, get a new man.
- Freedom, high-day! High-day, freedom! Freedom, high-day, freedom!
- O brave monster! Lead the way.