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To every eyeball else. Go take this shape
And hither come in't: go, hence with diligence!
Awake, dear heart, awake! thou hast slept well; Awake!
MIRANDA:
The strangeness of your story put
Heaviness in me.
PROSPERO:
Shake it off. Come on;
We'll visit Caliban my slave, who never
Yields us kind answer.
MIRANDA:
'Tis a villain, sir,
I do not love to look on.
PROSPERO:
But, as 'tis,
We cannot miss him: he does make our fire,
Fetch in our wood and serves in offices
That profit us. What, ho! slave! Caliban!
Thou earth, thou! speak.
CALIBAN:
PROSPERO:
Come forth, I say! there's other business for thee:
Come, thou tortoise! when?
Fine apparition! My quaint Ariel,
Hark in thine ear.
ARIEL:
My lord it shall be done.
PROSPERO:
Thou poisonous slave, got by the devil himself
Upon thy wicked dam, come forth!
CALIBAN:
As wicked dew as e'er my mother brush'd
With raven's feather from unwholesome fen
Drop on you both! a south-west blow on ye
And blister you all o'er!
PROSPERO:
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 honeycomb, each pinch more stinging
Than bees that made 'em.
CALIBAN:
I must eat my dinner.
This island's mine, by Sycorax my mother,
Which thou takest from me. When thou camest first,
Thou strokedst me and madest much of me, wouldst 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 show'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 o' the island.
PROSPERO:
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 child.
CALIBAN:
O ho, O ho! would't had been done!
Thou didst prevent me; I had peopled else
This isle with Calibans.
PROSPERO:
Abhorred slave,
Which any print of goodness wilt 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 confined into this rock,
Who hadst deserved more than a prison.
CALIBAN:
You taught me language; and my profit on't
Is, I know how to curse. The red plague rid you