Ar. I doe not Sir
Pro. Thou liest, malignant Thing: hast thou forgot The fowle Witch Sycorax, who with Age and Enuy Was growne into a hoope? hast thou forgot her?
Ar. No Sir
Pro. Thou hast: where was she born? speak: tell me:
Ar. Sir, in Argier
Pro. Oh, was she so: I must Once in a moneth recount what thou hast bin, Which thou forgetst. This damn'd Witch Sycorax For mischiefes manifold, and sorceries terrible To enter humane hearing, from Argier Thou know'st was banish'd: for one thing she did They wold not take her life: Is not this true?
Ar. I, Sir
Pro. This blew ey'd hag, was hither brought with child, And here was left by th' Saylors; thou my slaue, As thou reportst thy selfe, was then her seruant, And for thou wast a Spirit too delicate To act her earthy, and abhord commands, Refusing her grand hests, she did confine thee By helpe of her more potent Ministers, And in her most vnmittigable rage, Into a clouen Pyne, within which rift Imprison'd, thou didst painefully remaine A dozen yeeres: within which space she di'd, And left thee there: where thou didst vent thy groanes As fast as Mill-wheeles strike: Then was this Island (Saue for the Son, that he did littour heere, A frekelld whelpe, hag-borne) not honour'd with A humane shape
Ar. Yes: Caliban her sonne
Pro. Dull thing, I say so: he, that Caliban Whom now I keepe in seruice, thou best know'st What torment I did finde thee in; thy grones Did make wolues howle, and penetrate the breasts Of euer-angry Beares; it was a torment To lay vpon the damn'd, which Sycorax Could not againe vndoe: it was mine Art, When I arriu'd, and heard thee, that made gape The Pyne, and let thee out
Ar. I thanke thee Master
Pro. If thou more murmur'st, I will rend an Oake And peg-thee in his knotty entrailes, till Thou hast howl'd away twelue winters
Ar. Pardon, Master, I will be correspondent to command And doe my spryting, gently
Pro. Doe so: and after two daies I will discharge thee
Ar. That's my noble Master: What shall I doe? say what? what shall I doe?
Pro. Goe make thy selfe like a Nymph o'th' Sea, Be subiect to no sight but thine, and mine: inuisible To euery eye-ball else: goe take this shape And hither come in't: goe: hence With diligence.
Pro. Awake, deere hart awake, thou hast slept well, Awake