SCENE II.
Changes to another part of the Island.
Enter Caliban with a burden of wood; a noise of thunder heard.
&wlquo;Cal.
&wlquo;All the infections, that the sun sucks up,
&wlquo;From bogs, fens, flats, on Prosper fall, and make him
&wlquo;By inch-meal a disease! his spirits hear me,
&wlquo;And yet I needs must curse. But they'll not pinch,
&wlquo;Fright me with urchin shews, pitch me i' th' mire,
&wlquo;Nor lead me, like a fire-brand, in the dark
&wlquo;Out of my way, unless he bid 'em; but
&wlquo;For every trifle are they set upon me.
&wlquo;Sometimes like apes, that moe and chatter at me,
&wlquo;And after bite me; then like hedge-hogs, which
&wlquo;Lye tumbling in my bare-foot way, and mount
&wlquo;Their pricks at my foot-fall; sometime am I
&wlquo;All wound with adders, who with cloven tongues
&wlquo;Do hiss me into madness. Lo! now! lo!&wrquo;
Enter Trinculo.
Here comes a spi'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 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, 7 notelooks 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
-- 43 --
cannot chuse 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!
&wlquo;Were I in England now, as once I was, and had
but this fish painted, not an holiday-fool there but
would give a piece of silver. There would this
monster make a man; 8 noteany 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.&wrquo; 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.
Alas! the storm is come again. My best way is to
creep under his gaberdine: there is no other shelter
hereabout; &wlquo;misery acquaints a man with strange
bed fellows:&wrquo; 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 Marrian, and Margery,
-- 44 --
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? 9 notehave we devils here? do
you put tricks upon's with salvages, 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
present for any Emperor that ever trod on neats-leather.
Cal.
Do not torment me, p'rythee; 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
-- 45 --
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! &wlquo;his forward voice now is to speak well of
his friend; his backward voice is to spatter foul
speeches, and to detract.&wrquo; 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
thou to be the siege of this 1 notemoon-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
-- 46 --
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, an 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.
Swom a-shore, man, like a duck; I can swim
like a duck, I'll be sworn.
Ste.
Here, kiss the book. Though thou can'st
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.
Trin.
By this good light, this is a very shallow monster:
2 noteI afraid of him? a very shallow monster: the
-- 47 --
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
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 my self thy subject.
Ste.
Come on then; down, and swear.
Trin.
I shall laugh my self 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!
&wlquo;Cal.
&wlquo;I'll shew thee the best springs; I'll pluck thee berries,
&wlquo;I'll fish for thee, and get thee wood enough.
&wlquo;A plague upon the tyrant that I serve!
&wlquo;I'll bear him no more sticks, but follow thee,
&wlquo;Thou wond'rous man.&wrquo;
Trin.
A most ridiculous monster, to make a wonder
of a poor drunkard.
&wlquo;Cal.
&wlquo;I pr'ythee, let me bring thee where crabs grow;
&wlquo;And I with my long nails will dig thee pig-nuts;
&wlquo;Shew thee a jay's nest, and instruct thee how
&wlquo;To snare the nimble marmazet; I'll bring thee
&wlquo;To clust'ring filberds, and sometimes I'll get thee
&wlquo;3 noteYoung Shamois from the rock. Wilt thou go with me?&wrquo;
Ste.
I pr'ythee 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.
-- 48 --
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.
Alexander Pope [1747], The works of Shakespear in eight volumes. The Genuine Text (collated with all the former Editions, and then corrected and emended) is here settled: Being restored from the Blunders of the first Editors, and the Interpolations of the two Last: with A Comment and Notes, Critical and Explanatory. By Mr. Pope and Mr. Warburton (Printed for J. and P. Knapton, [and] S. Birt [etc.], London) [word count] [S11301].
