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It ftrook mine ear moft terribly.
Alon. I heard nothing.

Ant. O, 'twas a din to fright a monster's ear; To make an earthquake: fure, it was the roar Of a whole herd of lions.

Alon. Heard you this?

Gon. Upon mine honour, fir, I heard a humming,
And that a strange one too, which did awake me.
I fhak'd you, fir, and cry'd; as mine eyes open'd,
I faw their weapons drawn: there was a noise,
That's verity. 'Tis best we stand on guard;
Or that we quit this place: let's draw our weapons.

Alon. Lead off this ground, and let's make further search For my poor fon.

Gon. Heav'ns keep him from these beasts!

For he is, fure, i' th' ifland.

Alon. Lead away.

Ari. Profpero my lord fhall know what I have done. So, king, go fafely on to feek thy fon.



Changes to another part of the island.

Enter Caliban with a burden of wood: a noife of thunder heard,


LL the infections that the fun fucks up


From bogs, fens, flats, on Profper fall, and make hini By inch-meal a disease! His fpirits hear me, And yet I needs muft curfe. But they'll not pinch, Fright me with urchin fhews, pitch me i' th' mire, Nor lead me, like a fire-brand, in the dark Out of my way, unless he bid 'em; but For every trifle are they fet upon me.

Sometime like apes, that moe and chatter at me,
And after bite me; then like hedge-hogs, which

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Lye tumbling in my bare-foot-way, and mount
Their pricks at my foot-fall; fometime am I
All wound with adders, who with cloven tongues
Do hifs me into madness. Lo! now! lo!

Enter Trinculo.

Here comes a sp’rit of his now to torment me,
For bringing wood in flowly. 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 ftorm brewing; I hear it fing i' th' wind: yond same black cloud, yond huge one, looks like a foul bombard that would fhed his liquor. If it fhould thunder as it did before, I know not where to hide my head: yond fame cloud 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 fishlike smell. A kind of, not of the newest, Poor-John: a strange fish! Were I in England now, as once I was, and had but this fish painted, not an holyday-fool there but would give a piece of filver. There would this monfter make a man; any strange beaft there makes a man: when they will not give a doit to relieve a lame beggar, they will lay out ten to fee a dead Indian. 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 fifh, but an islander that hath lately suffer'd by a thunder-bolt. Alas! the ftorm is come again. My best way is to creep under his gabardine there is no other shelter hereabout; mifery acquaints a man with ftrange bed-fellows: I will here throwd 'till the dregs of the ftorm be past.


Enter Stephano finging.

Ste. I shall no more to fea, to fea, bere fhall I die a-fbore. This is a very scurvy tune to fing at a man's funeral: well, here's my comfort.


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Sings. The mafter, the fwabber, the boatswain, and I,
The gunner, and his mate,
Lov'd Mal, Meg, Marrian and Margery,
But none of us car'd for Kate;
For fhe had a tongue with a tang,
Would cry to a failor, Go, hang:
She lov'd not the favour of tar nor of pitch,
Yet a taylor might fcratch her where-e'er fhe did itch.
Then to fea, boys, and let her go hang.

This is a scurvy tune too: but here's my comfort.

Cal. Do not torment me: oh!


Ste. What's the matter? have we devils here? do you put tricks upon's with falvages, and men of Inde? ha? I have not 'fcap'd drowning to be afraid now of your four legs; for it hath been faid, As proper a man as ever went on four legs cannot make him give ground; and it shall be said so again, while Stephano breaths at his noftrils.

Cal. The fpirit torments me: oh!

Ste. This is fome monster of the ifle with four legs; who has got, as I take it, an ague: where, the devil, fhould he learn our language? I will give him fome 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, pr'ythee; I'll bring my wood home fafter.

Ste. He's in a fit now; and does not talk after the wisest: he shall taste of my bottle. If he have never drunk wine afore, it will go near to remove his fit: if I can recover him, and keep him tame, I cannot ask too much for him; he shall pay for him, that hath him, and that foundly.

Cal. Thou doft me yet but little hurt; thou wilt anon; I know it by my trembling: now Profper works upon me.

Ste. Come on your ways; open your mouth; here is that which will give language to a cat; open your mouth; this will your fhaking, I can tell you, and that foundly: you cannot tell who's your friend; open your chaps again.



Trin. I fhould know that voice: it fhould be drown'd; and these are devils; O! defend me.

but he is

Ste. Four legs, and two voices; a most delicate monfter! his forward voice now is to speak of his friend; his backward voice is to utter foul speeches, and to detract. If all the wine in my bottle will recover him, I will help his ague: come! amen! I will pour fome in thy other mouth.

Trin. Stephano!

Ste. Doth thy other mouth call me? mercy! mercy! this is a devil, and no monfter: I will leave him; I have no long spoon.

Trin. Stephano! If thou be'ft Stephano, touch me, and speak to me; for I am Trinculo; be not afraid; thy good friend Trinculo.

Ste. If thou be'ft Trinculo, come forth, I'll pull thee by the leffer legs: if any be Trinculo's legs, these are they. Thou art very Trinculo, indeed: how cam'ft thou to be the fiege of this moon-calf? can he vent Trinculo's?

Trin. I took him to be kill'd with a thunder-ftroke: but art thou not drown'd, Stephano? I hope now, thou art not drown'd: is the ftorm over-blown? I hid me under the dead moon-calf's gabardine, for fear of the storm: and art thou living, Stephano? O Stephano, two Neapolitans 'fcap'd!

Ste. Pry'thee, do not turn me about, my ftomach is not conftant. 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 didft thou 'scape? how cam'ft thou hither? fwear by this bottle how thou cam'ft hither: I efcap'd upon a butt of fack, which the failors heav'd o'er-board; by this bottle! which I made of the bark of a tree, with mine own hands, fince I was caft a-shore.

Cal. I'll fwear, upon that bottle, to be thy true subject; for the liquor is not earthly.

Ste. Here: fwear then: how escap'dst thou?

Trin. Swom a-fhore, man, like a duck; I can swim like a duck, I'll be fworn.

Ste. Here, kiss the book. Though thou canst swim like a duck, thou art made like a goose.

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Trin. O Stephano, haft any more of this?

Ste. The whole butt, man; my cellar is in a rock by th' seafide, where my wine is hid. How now, moon-calf, how does thine ague?

Cal. Haft thou not dropt from heav'n?

Ste. Out o' th' moon, I do affure thee. I was the man i' th' moon when time was.

Cal. I have feen thee in her; and I do adore thee: my miftress fhew'd me thee, and thy dog, and thy bush.

Ste. Come, fwear to that; kifs the book: I will furnish it anon with new contents: fwear.

Trin. By this good light, this is a very shallow monster: I afraid of him? a very shallow monster: the man i' th' moon? a most poor credulous monfter: well drawn, monster, in good footh. Cal. I'll fhew thee every fertile inch o' th' ifle, and I will kiss thy foot: I pr'ythee, be my god.

Trin. By this light, a moft perfidious and drunken monster ; when his god's afleep, he'll rob his bottle.

Cal. I'll kifs thy foot. I'll fwear myself thy fubject.

Ste. Come on then; down, and fwear.

Trin. I shall laugh myself to death at this puppy-headed monster: a most scurvy monster! I could find in my heart to beat him

Ste. Come, kifs.

Trin. monfter!

Cal. I'll fhew thee the beft fprings; I'll pluck thee berries, I'll fifh for thee, and get thee wood enough.

A plague upon the tyrant that I ferve!

I'll bear him no more fticks, but follow thee,

Thou wondrous man.

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But that the poor monster's in drink: an abominable

Trin. A moft ridiculous monster, to make a wonder of a poor drunkard.

Cal. I pr'ythee, let me bring thee where crabs grow;
And I with my long nails will dig thee pig-nuts;
Shew thee a jay's neft, and inftruct thee how


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