The Tempest

Page 33

Ste. There is not onely disgrace and dishonor in that Monster, but an infinite losse

Tr. That's more to me then my wetting: Yet this is your harmlesse Fairy, Monster

Ste. I will fetch off my bottle, Though I be o're eares for my labour

Cal. Pre-thee (my King) be quiet. Seest thou heere This is the mouth o'th Cell: no noise, and enter: Do that good mischeefe, which may make this Island Thine owne for euer, and I thy Caliban For aye thy foot-licker

Ste. Giue me thy hand, I do begin to haue bloody thoughts

Trin. O King Stephano, O Peere: O worthy Stephano, Looke what a wardrobe heere is for thee

Cal. Let it alone thou foole, it is but trash

Tri. Oh, ho, Monster: wee know what belongs to a frippery, O King Stephano

Ste. Put off that gowne (Trinculo) by this hand Ile haue that gowne

Tri. Thy grace shall haue it

Cal. The dropsie drowne this foole, what doe you meane To doate thus on such luggage? let's alone And doe the murther first: if he awake, From toe to crowne hee'l fill our skins with pinches, Make vs strange stuffe

Ste. Be you quiet (Monster) Mistris line, is not this my Ierkin? how is the Ierkin vnder the line: now Ierkin you are like to lose your haire, & proue a bald Ierkin

Trin. Doe, doe; we steale by lyne and leuell, and't like your grace

Ste. I thank thee for that iest; heer's a garment for't: Wit shall not goe vn-rewarded while I am King of this Country: Steale by line and leuell, is an excellent passe of pate: there's another garment for't

Tri. Monster, come put some Lime vpon your fingers, and away with the rest

Cal. I will haue none on't: we shall loose our time, And all be turn'd to Barnacles, or to Apes With foreheads villanous low

Ste. Monster, lay to your fingers: helpe to beare this away, where my hogshead of wine is, or Ile turne you out of my kingdome: goe to, carry this

Tri. And this

Ste. I, and this.

A noyse of Hunters heard. Enter diuers Spirits in shape of Dogs and Hounds, hunting them about: Prospero and Ariel setting them on.

Pro. Hey Mountaine, hey

Ari. Siluer: there it goes, Siluer

Pro. Fury, Fury: there Tyrant, there: harke, harke. Goe, charge my Goblins that they grinde their ioynts With dry Convultions, shorten vp their sinewes With aged Cramps, & more pinch-spotted make them, Then Pard, or Cat o' Mountaine

Ari. Harke, they rore

Pro. Let them be hunted soundly: At this houre Lies at my mercy all mine enemies: Shortly shall all my labours end, and thou Shalt haue the ayre at freedome: for a little Follow, and doe me seruice.


William Shakespeare
Classic Literature Library

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