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’ th’ island.

PROSPERO.                                              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.

CALIBAN. Oh ho! Oh ho!—would it had been done!

Thou didst prevent me; I had peopled else

This isle with Calibans.

PROSPERO.                                              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 wouldst 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 na-

tures

Could not abide to be with; therefore wast thou

Deservedly confin’d into this rock,

Who hadst deserv’d more than a prison.

CALIBAN. 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!

PROSPERO.                                              Hag-seed, bence!

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

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,

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,

And make a vassal of him.

PROSPERO.                                              So, slave; hence! Exit Caliban

Re-enter Ariel, invisible,

playing and singing; 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,—

Foot it featly here and there;

And, sweet sprites, the burden bear.

Hark, hark!

Burden: Bow, wow, dispersedly

The watch-dogs bark:

Burden: Bow, wow, dispersedly

Hark, hark! I hear

The strain of strutting Chanticleer

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

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

Weeping again the king my father’s wrack,

This music crept by me upon the waters,

Allaying both their fury, and my passion,

With its sweet air: thence I have follow’d it,—

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

No, it begins again.


ARIEL’S SONG

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:

Burden: ding-dong

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

FERDINAND. The ditty does remember my drown’d father.

This is no mortal business, nor no sound

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

PROSPERO. The fringed curtains of thine eye advance,

And say what thou seest yond.

MIRANDA.                                              What is ’t? a spirit?

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

It carries a brave form:—but ’tis a spirit.

PROSPERO.