MASTER.

Come, my hearts! now the ship's moor'd, and the boat haul'd ashore, let's take a landcruise in chace of some provision.

TRINCULO.

I'faith, master, my belly clings together like an empty satchel! if we had not found land here, we should have been pretty sharp set before we reach'd Naples; and forc'd to draw lots for a slice of one another.

STEPHANO.

Not whilst we had such sack as this aboard; he that could not sail all the world over, with this for his comfort, ought never to taste good liquor while he breath'd at nostrils.

MASTER.

That may do with you, honest butler; but we want something more substantial.—Come, let us go in a body, in case of meeting wild beasts, or savages; and see what this land produces:— tend to the Boatswain's whistle!

BOATSWAIN. [Blows his whistle.]

Come, bear a hand, bear a hand, my hearts! a heigh!

STEPHANO.

You may bear a hand by yourself, for me!— I shall neither bear a hand, nor budge a foot, while this lasts.—I don't care for roaming any farther up this coast, for fear of meeting that

she-devil, Sycorax; or that devil's imp, her son!—should he find nothing else eatable ashore, he'll make no bones of one or two of us!

MASTER.

For that reason, we ought to keep all together; that we may make the better defence against him.

BOATSWAIN.

Come, heave a head, you lubber! let us steer upward; it looks like a plentiful country:—if inhabited, we may not only get provision, but a willing wench into the bargain.

STEPHANO.

That thought 'rouses me—a wench, a heigh! O, that I could but meet my queen, that was to be, the sour duke's sweet daughter; I am in a rare cue for courtship!

TRINCULO.

Mass! I am in a better for a meal's meat! and would exchange the daintiest duke's daughter in Christendom, ay, and Barbary to boot, for a good belly-full!

STEPHANO.

As the old conjuror is certainly made away with, by this time; if we can but 'scape witchcraft

and cannibals, and my queen and I settle preliminaries, who knows but I may erect a new monarchy here:—if so, look to be great men, all of you!

TRINCULO.

O, rare! king Stephano for ever!

STEPHANO sings,
The Pilot shall be my prime-minister;
A jewel, a gem, the state-billows to stem:
Should any thing happen that's sinister,
I snug may cry, hem! while you him all condemn.
The Boatswain shall be my head-trumpeter;
His whistle so shrill, he can pipe with good skill:
Queen 'Randa, should any dare frump at her,
The Master, at will, shall imprison or kill.
For a Fool I'm provided in Trinculo;
While I my sack quaff, he may quibble and laugh,
Nor ever fear being in vinculo:
So toss off the draff, and away let us raff. ALL.
For a Fool we're provided in Trinculo;
While we our sack quaff, he may quibble and laugh,
Nor ever fear being in vinculo:
So toss off the draff, and away let us raff. Exeunt. END OF ACT THE FOURTH.

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