Shall, for that vast of night that they may work," As thick as honey-combs, each pinch more stinging Cal. I must eat my dinner. This island's mine, by Sycorax my mother, Which thou tak'st from me. When thou camest first, Thou strok'dst me, and mad'st 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, The fresh springs, brine pits, barren place, and fertile ; Of Sycorax, toads, beetles, bats, light on you! Which first was mine own king; and here you sty me The rest of the island. Pro. Thou most lying slave, Whom stripes may move, not kindness: I have us'd thee, Filth as thou art, with human care; and lodg'd thee In mine own cell, till thou did'st seek to violate The honour of my child. 7 - for that vast of night that they may work,] The vast of night means the night which is naturally empty and deserted, without action; or when all things lying in sleep and silence, makes the world appear one great uninhabited waste. Vastum is likewise the ancient law term for waste, uncultivated land. It should be remembered, that, in the pneumatology of former ages, these particulars were settled with the most minute exactness, and the different kinds of visionary beings had different allotments of time suitable to the variety or consequence of their employments. During these spaces, they were at liberty to act, but were always obliged to leave off at a certain hour, that they might not interfere in that portion of night which belonged to others. Cal. O ho, O ho! —'would it had been done! Thou did'st prevent me; I had peopled else This isle with Calibans. Pro. Abhorred slave; Which any print of goodness will not take, Took pains to make thee speak, taught thee each hour One thing or other: when thou did'st not, savage, Know thine own meaning 9, but would'st gabble like A thing most brutish, I endow'd thy purposes With words that made them known: But thy vile race,1 Though thou did'st learn, had that in't which good natures Could not abide to be with; therefore wast thou Deservedly confin'd into this rock, Who had'st deserv'd more than a prison. 2 Cal. You taught me language; and my profit on't Is, I know how to curse: the red plague rid you, For learning me your language! Pro. Hag-seed, hence! What I command, I'll rack thee with old cramps; That beasts shall tremble at thy din. Cal. I must obey his art is of such power, No, pray thee! [Aside. 8 Oho! O ho!] This savage exclamation was originally and constantly appropriated by the writers of our ancient Mysteries and Moralites, to the Devil; and has, in this instance, been transferred to his descendant Caliban. STEEVENS. Know thine own meaning,] By this expression, however defective, the poet seems to have meant When thou didst utter sounds, to which thou hadst no determinate meaning. 1 But thy vile race,] Race, in this place, seems to signify original disposition, iñborn qualities. 2 the red plague rid you,] The erysipelas was anciently called the red plague. The word rid, means to destroy. It would control my dam's god, Setebos, 8 Pro. So, slave; hence! [Exit CALIBAN. Re-enter ARIEL invisible, playing and singing; FERDI Fer. Where should this musick be? i'the air, or the earth? It sounds no more: and sure it waits upon Some god of the island. Sitting on a bank 3 my dam's god, Setebos,] Mr. Warner has observed, on the authority of John Barbot, that “ the Patagons are reported to dread a great horned devil called Setebos." We learn from Magellan's voyage, that Setebos was the supreme god of the Patagons, and Cheleule was an inferior one. Setebos is also mentioned in Hackluyt's Voyages, 1598. 4 Re-enter Ariel invisible,] In the wardrobe of the lord admiral's men (i. e. company of comedians,) 1598, was— a robe for to goo invisebell." 5 Court'sied when you have, and kiss'd,] As was anciently done at the beginning of some dances. Weeping again the king my father's wreck, 6 ARIEL sings. gone. Hark! now I hear them, - ding-dong, bell. [Burden ding-dong. 9 Fer. The ditty does remember my drown'd father:-1 6 Weeping again the king my father's wreck,] Thus the old copy; but in the books of Shakspeare's age again is sometimes printed instead of against, [i. e. opposite to,] which Mr. Malone thinks was our author's word. 7 Full fathom five thy father lies; &c.] The songs in this play, Dr. Wilson, who reset and published two of them, tells us, in his Court Ayres, or Ballads, published at Oxford, 1660, that "Full fathom five," and "Where the bee sucks," had been first set by Robert Johnson, a composer contemporary with Shakspeare. BURNEY. 8 Nothing of him that doth fade, But doth suffer a sea-change-] Every thing about him, that is liable to alteration, is changed. 9 The same burden to a song occurs in The Merchant of Venice. It should here be Ding-dong, ding-dong, ding-dong, bell. Ariel's lays, however seasonable and efficacious, must be allowed to be of no supernatural dignity or eloquence; they express nothing great, nor reveal any thing above mortal discovery. JOHNSON. This is no mortal business, nor no sound That the earth owes 2: I hear it now above me. Mira. Lord, how it looks about! What is't? a spirit? Believe me, sir, It carries a brave form : But 'tis a spirit. Pro. No, wench; it eats and sleeps, and hath such senses As we have, such: This gallant, which thou seest, Was in the wreck; and but he's something stain'd With grief, that's beauty's canker, thou might'st call him A goodly person: he hath lost his fellows, And strays about to find them. Mira. I might call him Pro. It goes on, t [Aside. As my soul prompts it:- Spirit, fine spirit! I'll free thee Within two days for this. Fer. Most sure, the goddess On whom these airs attend! - Vouchsafe, my prayer If you be made or no ?4 2. That the earth owes:] To owe, in this place, as well as many others, signifies to own. 3 The fringed curtains, &c.] The same expression occurs in Pericles, Prince of Tyre, 1609: - her eyelids Begin to part their fringes of bright gold." +"It goes on, I see," MALONE. If you be made, or no?] Some copies read maid, and the critics are not fully agreed in their opinions. Mr. M. Mason says, "The question is, whether our readers will adopt a natural and simple expression, which requires no comment, or one which the ingenuity of many commentators has but imperfectly supported." |