SCENE II.
Changes to another part of the Island.
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 not pinch,
Fright me with urchin shews, 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.
-- 43 --
Sometimes like apes, that moe and chatter at me,
And after, bite me; then like hedge-hogs, which
Lye tumbling in my bare-foot way, and mount
Their pricks at my foot-fall; sometime am I
All wound with adders, who with cloven tongues2 note
Do hiss me into madness. Lo! now! lo!
Enter Trinculo.
Here comes a sp'rit 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 brush nor shrub to bear off any
weather at all, and another storm brewing; I hear it
sing i' th' wind: yond some black cloud, yond huge
one,3 note 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 a4 note 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 thunder-bolt.
-- 44 --
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 shrowd, 'till the dregs of the storm
be past.
Enter Stephano, singing.
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,
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 savour of tar nor of pitch,
Yet a taylor 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.
[Drinks.
Cal.
Do not torment me, oh!
Ste.
What's the matter? have we devils here? do
you put tricks upon's with savages, and men of Inde?
ha? I have not scap'd drowning to be afraid now of
your four legs; for it hath been said, As proper a
man, as ever went upon four legs, cannot make him
give ground; and it shall be said so again, while Stephano
breathes at his nostrils.
Cal.
The spirit torments me: oh!
Ste.
This is some monster of the Isle with four legs,
who has 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
-- 45 --
present for any Emperor that ever trod on neats-leather.
Cal.
Do not torment me, pr'ythee; 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 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 drown'd; 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 spatter6Q0004 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 afraid,
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 cam'st
-- 46 --
thou to be the siege of this moon-calf? can he vent
Trinculo's?
Trin.
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 over-blown? 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!
Ste.
Pr'ythee, do not turn me about, my stomach
is not constant.
Cal.
These be fine things, and if they be not sprights:
That's a brave god, and bears celestial liquor:
I will kneel to him.
Ste.
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
over board, by this bottle! which I made of the bark
of a tree, with mine own hands, since I was cast a
shore.
Cal.
I'll swear upon that bottle, to be thy true subject;
for the liquor is not earthly.
Ste.
Here: swear then, how escap'dst thou?
Trin.
Sworn a-shore, 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 th' sea-side, where my wine is hid. How now,
moon-calf, how does thine ague?
Cal.
Hast thou not dropt from Heav'n?
Ste.
Out o'th' moon, I do assure thee. I was the
man in th'moon, when time was.
Cal.
I have seen thee in her? and I do adore thee:
my mistress shew'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.
-- 47 --
Trin.
By this good light, this is a very shallow monster:
5 noteI afraid of him? a very shallow monster: the
man i'th' moon?—a most poor credulous monster:
well drawn, monster, in good sooth.
Cal.
I'll shew thee every fertile inch o'th' Isle,
And 6 note I will kiss thy foot: I pr'ythee be my god.
Trin.
By this light, a most perfidious and drunken
monster; when his 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 shew 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 wond'rous man.
Trin.
A most ridiculous monster, to make a wonder
of a poor drunkard.
Cal.
I pr'ythee, let me bring thee where crabs grow;
And I with my long nails will dig thee pig-nuts;
Shew thee a jay's nest, and instruct thee how
To snare the nimble marmazet; I'll bring thee
To clust'ring filberds, and sometimes I'll get thee
-- 48 --
Young 7 note Scamels from the rock. Wilt thou go with me?
Ste.
I pr'ythee now, lead the way without any
more talking. Trinculo, the King and all our company
being drown'd, we will inherit here. Hear, bear
my bottle; fellow Trinculo, we'll fill him by and by
again.
Cal. [Sings drunkenly.]
Farewel master; farewel, farewel.
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', Cacalyban
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.
Samuel Johnson [1765], The plays of William Shakespeare, in eight volumes, with the corrections and illustrations of Various Commentators; To which are added notes by Sam. Johnson (Printed for J. and R. Tonson [and] C. Corbet [etc.], London) [word count] [S11001].
