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.
Exeunt.