(In her unmitigable rage) into a cloven pine; Within whose rift imprisoned, thou didst painfully Remain a dozen years, within which space she died, And left thee there; where thou didst vent thy

groans,

As fast as mill-wheels strike. Then was this isle (Save for two brats, which she did litter here, The brutish Caliban, and his twin-sister,

Two freckled hag-born whelps) not honoured with A human shape.

Ariel. Yes; Caliban her son, and Sycorax his sister.

Prosp. Dull thing! I say so.-He,
That Caliban, and she, that Sycorax,

Whom I now keep in service. Thou best know'st
What torment I did find thee in; thy groans
Did make wolves howl, and penetrate the breasts
Of ever-angry bears; it was a torment

To lay upon the damned, which Sycorax
Could ne'er again undo: It was my art,

When I arrived and heard thee, that made the pine gape, and let thee out.

Το

Ariel. I thank thee, master.

Prosp. If thou more murmurest, I will rend an

oak,

And peg thee in his knotty entrails, till thou
Hast howled away twelve winters more.

Ariel. Pardon, master;

I will be correspondent to command,

And be a gentle spirit.

Prosp. Do so; and after two days I'll discharge thee.

Ariel. Thanks, my great master. But I have yet

one request.

Prosp. What's that, my spirit?

Ariel. I know that this day's business is impor

tant,

Requiring too much toil for one alone.

I have a gentle spirit for my love,

Who twice seven years has waited for my freedom: Let it appear, it will assist me much,

And we with mutual joy shall entertain

Each other. This, I beseech you, grant me.
Prosp. You shall have your desire.

Ariel. That's my noble master.--Milcha!

[MILCHA flies down to his assistance.

Milc. I am here, my love.

Ariel. Thou art free! Welcome, my dear!What shall we do? Say, say, what shall we do? Prosp. Be subject to no sight but mine; invisible To every eye-ball else. Hence, with diligence; Anon thou shalt know more.

[They both fly up, and cross in the air. Thou hast slept well, my child.

[To MIR. Mir. The sadness of your story put heaviness in

me.

Prosp. Shake it off.-Come on, I'll now call Caliban, my slave, who never yields us a kind answer. Mir. 'Tis a creature, sir, I do not love to look

on.

Prosp. But, as it is, we cannot miss him: He does make our fire, fetch in our wood, and serve in offices that profit us.-What ho, slave! Caliban! thou earth, thou, speak!

Calib. [within.] There's wood enough within. Prosp. Thou poisonous slave! got by the devil himself

Upon thy wicked dam, come forth!

Enter CALIBAN.

Calib. As wicked dew, as e'er my mother brushed with raven's feather from unwholesome fens, drop on you both! A south-west wind blow on you, and blister you all o'er!

Prosp. For this, be sure, to-night thou shalt have cramps, side-stitches, that shall pen thy breath up: Urchins shall prick thee till thou bleed'st: Thou shalt be pinched as thick as honey-combs, each pinch more stinging than the bees which made

them.

Calib. I must eat my dinner: This island's mine by Sycorax my mother, which thou took'st from me. When thou camest first, thou stroak'dst me, and madest 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 loved thee, and showed thee all the qualities of the isle, the fresh-springs, brine-pits, barren places, and fertile. Cursed be I, that I did so! All the charms of Sycorax, toads, beetles, bats, light on thee! for I am all the subjects that thou hast. I first was mine own lord; and here thou stayest me in this hard rock, while thou dost keep from me the rest o'the island.

Prosp. Thou most lying slave, whom stripes may move, not kindness! I have used thee, filth as thou art! with human care; and lodged thee in mine own cell, till thou didst seek to violate the honour of my children.

Calib. Oh, ho! oh, ho! would it had been done! Thou didst prevent me, I had peopled else this isle with Calibans.

Prosp. Abhorred slave! who ne'er wouldst any print of goodness 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 thy own meaning, but wouldst gabble like a thing most brutish, I endowed thy purposes with words, which made them known.But thy wild race (though thou didst learn) had that in't, which good natures could not abide to be

with; therefore wast thou deservedly pent up into this rock.

Calib. You taught me language; and my profit by it is, that I know to curse. The red botch rid you for learning me your language!

Prosp. Hag-seed, hence!

Fetch us in fuel, and be quick

To answer other business.--Shrug'st thou, malice! If thou neglectest, 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.

Calib. No, pr'ythee!

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

Prosp. So, slave, hence!

[Exeunt PROSP. and CALIB. severally.

Enter DORINDA.

Dor. Oh, sister! what have I beheld!
Mir. What is it moves you so?

Dor. From yonder rock,

As I my eyes cast down upon the seas,

The whistling winds blew rudely on my face,
And the waves roared; at first, I thought the war
Had been between themselves, but straight I spied
A huge great creature.

Mir. O, you mean the ship?

Dor. Is't not a creature then?--It seemed alive. Mir. But what of it?

Dor. This floating ram did bear his horns above, All tied with ribbands, ruffling in the wind: Sometimes he nodded down his head a-while, And then the waves did heave him to the moon, He clambering to the top of all the billows; And then again he curtsied down so low,

I could not see him: Till at last, all side-long,
With a great crack, his belly burst in pieces.
Mir. There all had perished,

Had not my father's magic art relieved them.-
But, sister, I have stranger news to tell you:
In this great creature there were other creatures;
And shortly we may chance to see that thing,
Which you have heard my father call a man.

Dor. But, what is that? For yet he never told

me.

Mir. I know no more than you:-But I have heard

My father say, we women were made for him.

Dor. What, that he should eat us, sister?

Mir. No sure; you see my father is a man, and yet

He does us good. I would he were not old.

Dor. Methinks, indeed, it would be finer, if We two had two young fathers.

Mir. No, sister, no: If they were young, my father

Said, we must call them brothers.

Dor. But, pray, how does it come, that we two

are

Not brothers then, and have not beards like him? Mir. Now I confess you pose me.

Dor. How did he come to be our father too? Mir. I think he found us when we both were little,

And grew within the ground.

Dor. Why could he not find more of us? Pray,

sister,

Let you and I look up and down one day,

To find some little ones for us to play with.

Mir. Agreed; but now we must go in. This is The hour wherein my father's charm will work, Which seizes all who are in open air: