Cal.
As wicked dew as e'er my mother brush'd
With raven's feather from unwholsome fen,
Drop on you both: a south-west blow on ye,
And blister you all o'er!

Pro.
For this, be sure, to-night thou shalt have cramps,
Side-stitches that shall pen thy breath up; urchins
Shall, for that vast of night that they may work,
All exercise on thee: thou shalt be pinch'd
As thick as honey-combs, each pinch more stinging
Than bees that made 'em.

Cal.
I must eat my dinner.
This Island's mine by Sycorax my mother,
Which thou tak'st from me. When thou camest first
Thou stroak'dst me and mad'st much of me; would'st give me
Water with berries in't; and teach me how
To name the bigger light, and how the less,
That burn by day and night: and then I lov'd thee,
And shew'd thee all the qualities o'th' Isle,
The fresh springs, brine-pits; barren place and fertile.
Curs'd be I that I did so! all the charms
Of Sycorax, toads, beetles, bats, light on you!
For I am all the subjects that you have,
Who first was mine own King: and here you sty me
In this hard rock, whiles you do keep from me
The rest of th' Island.

Pro.
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
In mine own cell, 'till thou didst seek to violate
The honour of my child.

Cal.
Oh ho, oh ho, I wou'd it had been done!
Thou didst prevent me, I had peopled else
This Isle with Calibans.

Mira.
Abhorred slave;
Who any print of goodness will not take,
Being capable of all ill! I pity'd 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 would'st gabble like
A thing most brutish, I endow'd thy purposes
With words that made them known. But thy vile race
(Tho' thou didst learn) had that in't, which good natures
Could not abide to be with; therefore wast thou

Deservedly confin'd into this rock.

Cal.
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.

Por.
Hag-seed, hence!
Fetch us in fewel, and be quick (thou 'wert 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.

Cal.
No, pray thee.
I must obey, his art is of such pow'r
It would controul my dam's god Setebos,
And make a vassal of him.

Pro.
So slave, hence. [Exit Caliban.

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