CALIBAN.
Where can my mistress and that jay be hid?
I can find neither! and could tear myself
For letting them, so dolt-like, both escape!
Had I kept either, she might have suffic'd;
Though my own mistress liefer would I clip!
Nor can I spy my dam! I hop'd t' have seen
The wond'rous spirit, when we reach'd the land,
Destroy that tyrant Prosper! or, while-ere,
I had done't upon the sea! but, what comes now?
Methinks I hear a foot-fall in yon dell;
Perchance it is my mistress;—that it may!
I will enbush me! then, should she approach,
Like cat-a-mountain springing, seize my prey! Enter Miranda.

MIRANDA.
Whither, ah whither shall I bend my steps,
To seek my straying father and dear lord?
Or hide me from—Protect me, heav'n! I'm caught!

CALIBAN.
'Scape if thou can'st again! thou now art mine,
'Spite of those chattering and deceitful apes;
Who would have talk'd me out of thee, my right!
Or that much finer, but less beauteous, she.

MIRANDA.
Be gentle, Caliban!—gripe not so hard!
Lest with your talons my frail skin you tear!

CALIBAN.
I cannot harm thee!—tho' I meant thee scathe,
In punishment for thy late scornful flouts!
Be thou but kind, I will be so to thee!

MIRANDA.
Alack, alack! when was I otherwise?

CALIBAN.
Full oft to me! although I ever lov'd
And fondled thee!—when first into my isle
Prosper, a puling babe, Miranda brought;
Weeping through hunger, shiv'ring with bleak winds;
I lick'd the tears from thy frore, blubber'd cheeks,
Nousled and chafed thee in my hairy arms,
Hugging thee close as the dam ape her cub;
Fed thee with eggs;—into thy coral mouth

From the goat's dug press'd the warm, fost'ring milk;
Of thistle-down and goss'mer made thy bed;
Then hush'd and lullaby'd thee to thy sleep,
And lack'd my own that thine might be secure.

MIRANDA.
I ever strove to thank thee for't; and still,
As from my father speech and sense I learn'd,
Delighted in imparting both to thee!
I never laid upon thee harsh command;
Assisted always to trim up our cell;
And in each look, word, deed, was ever kind!

CALIBAN.
But kinder far to Ferdinand! though he
Ne'er nurs'd, nor stroak'd, nor fed, nor fondled thee!
In our lime-grove I lurk'd behind a bush,
And saw the lack-beard kiss that down-like hand;
I could have claw'd his lips off, had I dar'd!
But now, from Prosper's magick-pow'r set free,
Him and my rival, wench, I laugh to scorn;
Here have thee, and will keep thee all my own!

MIRANDA.
O, Ferdinand! my love! where art thou stray'd?
Haste, and deliver me from this vile thrall!

CALIBAN.
'Twere death, should Ferd'nand interrupt me now!
Though I seem'd fearful late, and shunn'd his sword,
'Twas but in craft, to compass what hath happ'd;
Then stint this din, and let thine eyes soft beam;
Nor scorn, nor flout, for I'm not smooth as he!
In beauty what I lack I have in strength;
More needful, to protect and get thee food!
I'll fetch thee, mistress! nests of callow birds;
The rathe lamb roast by fire of scented wood;
Gather th' empurpled grape for thy repast;
And weave a flow'ry garland, thee to crown
Queen of this unknown clime and me, for aye!
Give me the honey of thy lips in lieu,
And let me clip thee!

MIRANDA.
Monster! stand aloof!
I feel strange courage, and unusual strength;
Nor longer fear thee or thy brutal force!
A heavenly inspiration doth assure
No ill shall 'gainst a spotless maid prevail!
The Lybian lion at my feet would crouch,
Tho' hunger-driv'n, if what I've read be true;
Nor murkiest fiends, nor thou, more dreadful yet,
Can soil or harm troth-plighted, clear virginity!

Enter Stephano and Claribel.

STEPHANO.

Go to! I know you are queen of Tunis;— the fitter to be my spouse:—for, I intend to be king of this new-discover'd country.

CLARIBEL.
Hence, rudesby! nor insult me more, bold slave!
Who, thus inebriated, dost forget
The due respect unto thy sov'reign's child!

MIRANDA.
Ah, my sweet friend! meet we again in woe?

STEPHANO.

Bully monster! hast thou been looking for a consort too, and lighted upon my queen o'the island, that was to be?—all's one!—madam Claribel will serve my turn, and she is a queen ready-made to my hands.

CALIBAN.
This is no time for jests! avaunt, dull ass!—
Lo! who are these? some of my dam's grim goblins!

CLARIBEL.
My brave Abdallah comes to rescue us!—
Fierce Hyrca too? still do I fear we're lost!

Enter Hyrca, with a wand, and Abdallah.

HYRCA.
Ungrateful moor! is this my love's return?
Was't not enough to wed curst Claribel!
But you must now with guilty wretches plot
To leave fond Hyrca sighing to the winds!
Who, by her art, safe brought thee to this spot;
Which an elyzium to us well might prove,
Would'st thou but—

ABDALLAH.
What! submit to thy embrace?
Forsake my Claribel, my beauteous bride!
For thee? foul sorceress! form'd to loath, not love!
How can'st thou hope it? in the mirror view
Thy form forbidding, which 'gainst love would plead,
Tho' no deformity of mind thou ow'd'st;
Crying aloud,—look on fair Claribel!

HYRCA.
Rather, thou scornful!—which thou mayst repent—
View in the glass or stream thy swarthy hue,
With each peculiarity of clime;
And, wond'ring say,—how thus can Hyrca doat?

Or this thy fair-faced moppet but endure!
Then yet be wise;—your new-found friends are seiz'd,
And Sycorax will vengeance on them wreak!
Would'st thou not share their fate, throw by this scorn;
Receive my proffer'd love; quit Claribel;
Or thou their studied torments shalt partake!

ABDALLAH.
Wert thou more fair (could heav'n a fairer make)
Than e'en my beauteous Claribel herself;
With art more potent than all hell in league;
For her alone I live! for her would die!

HYRCA.
And die thou shalt! my love I blow to air!
Insatiate fury and revenge possess me!
That face, thou think'st so fair, shalt thou see scarr'd;
Those eyes, you call twin-stars—

ABDALLAH.
Hear me, fell fiend!—

HYRCA.
Speak not! thou shalt not! with this touch thou'rt dumb!
Whilst slighted Hyrca hath the power of speech,

Abdallah's voice shall but in groans be heard,
In concert with, detested rival! thine;
As you both struggle in the pangs of death!

CLARIBEL. [kneeling.
Oh! mercy! mercy!

HYRCA.
Hence! I know it not!

CLARIBEL.
Spare, spare my lord! let only Claribel die,
The lamb, that licks the butcher's bloody hand,
Shall not submit more patient to the knife! [Thunder heard, and a vast glare of light seen.]

HYRCA.
Hark! I am summon'd Sycorax to attend!
The ship now blazes on the fatal strand,
Appointed signal of her freight's dread doom.—
Thou, stranger-maid, must share their destin'd fate!

MIRANDA.
If my lov'd Ferdinand and father fall,
'Twill be Miranda's greatest bliss to die!

HYRCA.
Unto the burning vessel strait repair,
And in its flames to perish, Moor! prepare;

Love, Pity, Mercy, hence! Revenge now reigns!
Sycorax and Hyrca stalk the sanguine plains! [Exit Hyrca, waving her wand, and charming Abdallah, Claribel, Miranda and Caliban to follow.—Caliban and Stephano remain.

STEPHANO.

Come, mooncalf, now the she-fire-drake is gone, have a sup of my bottle; she scared me out of my seven senses with her quaint jarring, or she should not have taken away my queen-elect.

CALIBAN.
We, too, must follow!—felt you not her charm?
Me it pulls hard;—did I not wish to go,
It would compel:—but, 'tis my heav'n-on-earth,
That I, at length, shall see my mighty dam
Dash tyrant Prosper to the flinty earth;
On his vile trunk I'll stamp, rend wide his gorge;
Avenging my long thraldom with his blood! [Exit Caliban.

STEPHANO.

Go thy ways for a blood-thirsty, and most monstrous monster! when I was pot-valiant once, indeed, I had some notion of knocking out the old conjuror's brains myself;—but, now that

I am sober, I can't bear the thought of murder! no, not even manslaughter! so, that I may n't be an accessary, I'll e'en go look after our ship, the fury said was o' fire; and, if it be not burnt, get aboard again, as fast as I can paddle the boat, or oar myself to it!

TRINCULO.

Oh, Stephano! Stephano! what will become of us, Stephano? we are undone for ever! left upon this outlandish place, to live upon hips and haws, crab-apples, and pignuts, as long as such trash will keep life and soul together!

STEPHANO.

Why, what a murrain! the ship is not really burnt; is it, Trinculo?

TRINCULO.

Every stick and thread of it! as we were going aboard, to wash down our wild breakfast with a draught of sack; not being able to find the boat again, we waited 'till the tide should ebb, and leave the ship aground; which it had no sooner done, than a legion of devils slew over our heads, set fire to her, and, in a moment, tore her all to pieces, like a handful of lighted flax!

STEPHANO.

Mayhap they'll make lighted flax of us next!— what a villainous voyage we have made on't!— my wine is all gone,—I am dry as tinder, and shall burn like touchwood! this is all owing to the duke's drowning his magical book, and breaking his conjuring stick:—if he had but them, safe and sound, he'd be a match for the old-one himself!

TRINCULO.

Oh, lord! oh, lord! the devils are coming here now!

STEPHANO.

Are they? why then they may burn my wooden bottle, for there's nothing in it; and the devil take the hindmost!

Next section