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' the isle,
The fresh springs, brine pits, barren place, and fertile;
Cursed be I that did so!-All the charms
Of Sycorax, toads, beetles, bats, light on you!
For I am all the subjects that you have,

Which first was mine own king: and here you sty me
In this hard rock, whiles you do keep from me
The rest of the 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 thee
In mine own cell, till thou didst seek to violate
The honour of my child.

Cal. O ho, O ho!-'would it had been done!
Thou didst prevent me; I had peopled else
This isle with Calibans.

Pro.

Abhorred slave;

Which any print of goodness will not take,
Being capable of all ill! I pitied 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 wouldst gabble like
A thing most brutish, I endow'd thy purposes

With words that made them known: But thy vile race,
Though 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,

Who hadst deserv'd more than a prison.

Cal. You taught me language; and my profit on't Is, I know how to curse: The red plague rid 33 you, For learning me your language!

33 Destroy.

Pro.

Hag-seed, hence! Fetch us in fuel; 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 34: make thee roar,
That beasts shall tremble at thy din!

Cal. No, 'pray thee!

I must obey his art is of such power,
It would control my dam's god, Setebos 35,
And make a vassal of him.

Pro.

[Aside.

So, slave; hence!

[Exit CALIBAN.

Re-enter ARIEL invisible, playing and singing; FERDINAND following him.

ARIEL'S SONG.

Come unto these yellow sands,

And then take hands:
Court'sied when you have, and kiss'd,
(The wild waves whist 36)

And that ache

34 The word aches is evidently a dissyllable here and in two passages of Timon of Athens. The reader will remember the senseless clamour that was raised against Kemble for his adherence to the text of Shakspeare in thus pronouncing it as the measure requires.Ake," says Baret in his Alvearie, "is the verb of this substantive Ache, ch being turned into k." was pronounced in the same way as the letter h is placed beyond doubt by the passage in Much Ado about Nothing, in which Margaret asks Beatrice for what she cries Heigh ho, and she answers for an h. i. e. ache. See the Epigram of Heywood adduced in illustration of that passage. This orthography and pronunciation continued even to the times of Butler and Swift. It would be easy to produce numerous instances.

35The giants when they found themselves fettered roared like bulls, and cried upon Setebos to help them."-Eden's Hist. of Travayle, 1577. p. 434.

36 Still, silent.

Foot it featly here and there;

And, sweet sprites, the burden bear.

Fer. Where should this musick be? i' the air, or the earth?

It sounds no more;—and sure, it waits upon
Some god of the island. Sitting on a bank,
Weeping again the king my father's wreck,
This music crept by me upon the waters;
Allaying both their fury, and my passion,
With its sweet air: thence I have follow'd it,
Or it hath drawn me rather:-But 'tis gone.
No, it begins again.

ARIEL sings.

Full fathom five thy father lies;
Of his bones are coral made;
Those are pearls that were his eyes :
Nothing of him that doth fade,
But doth suffer a sea-change
Into something rich and strange.
Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell:

[Burden, ding-dong.

Hark! now I hear them,—ding-dong, bell.

Fer. The ditty does remember my drown'd father.This is no mortal business, nor no sound

That the earth owes 37:-I hear it now above me.

37 i. e. owns.

language.

To owe was to possess or appertain to, in ancient

Pro. The fringed curtains of thine eye advance, And say, what thou seest yond'.

Mira. What is't? a spirit? Lord, how it looks about! Believe me, sir,

It carries a brave form :-But 'tis a spirit.

Pro. No, wench; it eats and sleeps, and bath such senses

As we have, such: This gallant, which thou seest,
Was in the wreck; and but he's something stain'd
With grief, that's beauty's canker, thou might'st call
him

A goodly person: he hath lost his fellows,
And strays about to find them.

Mira.

I might call him

It goes on, I see,

[Aside.

A thing divine; for nothing natural
I ever saw so noble.

Pro.

As my soul prompts it:-Spirit, fine Spirit! I'll free

thee

Within two days for this.

Fer. Most sure, the goddess On whom these airs attend!-Vouchsafe, my prayer May know, if you remain upon this island; And that you will some good instruction give, How I may bear me here; My prime request, Which I do last pronounce, is, 0 you wonder! If you be maid 38, or no?

Mira.

But, certainly a maid.

Fer.

No wonder, sir;

My language! heavens!I am the best of them that speak this speech, Were I but where 'tis spoken.

38 The folio of 1685 reads made, and many of the modern editors have laboured to persuade themselves that it was the true reading. It has been justly observed by M. Mason that the question is "whether our readers will adopt a natural and simple expression, which requires no comment, or one which the ingenuity of many commentators has but imperfectly supported."

How! the best?

Pro. What wert thou, if the king of Naples heard thee? Fer. A single thing, as I am now, that wonders To hear thee speak of Naples: he does hear me; And, that he does, I weep: myself am Naples; Who with mine eyes, ne'er since at ebb, beheld The king my father wreck'd.

Mira.

Alack, for mercy!

Fer. Yes, faith, and all his lords; the duke of Milan, And his brave son, being twain.

Pro. The duke of Milan, And his more braver daughter, could control 39 thee, If now 'twere fit to do't:—At the first sight [Aside. They have chang'd eyes;-Delicate Ariel,

I'll set thee free for this!-A word, good sir;

I fear, you have done yourself some wrong 40: a word.
Mira. Why speaks my father so ungently? This
Is the third man that e'er I saw; the first

That e'er I sighed for: pity move my father
To be inclin'd my way!

Fer.

O, if a virgin,

And your affection not gone forth, I'll make you The queen of Naples.

Pro. Soft, sir; one word more.— They are both in either's powers: but this swift business I must uneasy make, lest too light winning [Aside. Make the prize light.-One word more; I charge thee, That thou attend me: thou dost here usurp The name thou ow'st not; and hast put thyself Upon this island, as a spy, to win it

From me, the lord on't.

39 To control here signifies to confute, to contradict unanswer, ably. The ancient meaning of control was to check or exhibit a contrary account, from the old French contre-roller.

40 66

you have done yourself some wrong:" that is spoken a falsehood. Thus in The Merry Wives of Windsor: "This is not well, master Ford, this wrongs you."