Ari. My master through his art foresees the

danger

That you, his friend, are in; and sends me forth

(For else his project dies,) to keep thee living.

[Sings in GONZALO's ear

While you here do snoring lie,
Open-ey'd conspiracy

His time doth take:

If of life you keep a care,
Shake off slumber, and beware:
Awake! awake!

Ant. Then let us both be sudden.

Gon. Now, good angels, preserve the king!

[They wake

Alon. Why, how now, ho! awake! Why are

you drawn?

Wherefore this ghastly looking?

Gon. What's the matter? Seb. Whiles we stood here securing your repose, Even now, we heard a hollow burst of bellowing Like bulls, or rather lions: did it not wake you? It struck mine ear most terribly..

Alon.

I heard nothing. Ant. O! 'twas a din to fright a monster's ear; To make an earthquake: sure it was the roar Of a whole herd of lions.

Alon. Heard you this, Gonzalo ? Gon. Upon mine honour, sir, I heard a humming, And that a strange one too, which did awake me: I shak'd you, sir and cried; as mine eyes open'd,

19 Them evidently refers to Gonzalo and the king, not to "projects," as the Chiswick edition has it, thus corrupting the Of course but one of the persons referred to was meant in, you, his friend.

text

H

I saw their weapons drawn: -There was a noise. That's verity: 'tis best we stand upon our guard, Or that we quit this place: Let's draw our weapons. Alon. Lead off this ground; and let's make further search

For my poor son.

Gon.

Heavens keep him from these beasts!

For he is, sure, i' the island.

Alon.

Lead away.

Ari. [Aside.] Prospero, my lord, shall know

what I have done :

So, king, go safely on to seek thy son. [Exeunt

SCENE II. Another part of the Island.
Enter CALIBAN, with a burden of wood.

A noise of Thunder heard.

Cal. All the infections that the sun sucks up From bogs, fens, flats, on Prosper fall, and make him By inch-meal a disease! His spirits hear me,

And yet I needs must curse. But they'll nor pinch,
Fright me with urchin-shows, pitch me i' the mire,
Nor lead me, like a fire-brand, in the dark
Out of my way, unless he bid them; but
For every trifle are they set upon me:

Sometime like apes, that moe' and chatter at me,
And after, bite me; then like hedge-hogs, which
Lie tumbling in my bare-foot way, and mount
Their pricks at my foot-fall; sometime am I
All wound with adders, who, with cloven tongues,
Do hiss me into madness: Lo, now! lo!

2

To moe is to make mouths. To make a moe like an ape. Distorquere os."-Baret. Sometimes spelt mow; as in Nash's Pierce Penniless: " 44 Nobody at home but an ape, that sat in the porch, and made mops and mows at him."

2 Pricks is the ancient word for prickles.

H.

Enter TRINCULO.

Here comes a spirit of his; and to torment me,
For bringing wood in slowly: I'll fall flat;
Perchance he will not mind me.

Trin. Here's neither bush nor shrub, to bear off any weather at all, and another storm brewing; I hear it sing i' the wind: yond' same black cloud, yond' huge one, looks like a foul bumbard' that would shed his liquor. If it should thunder, as it did before, I know not where to hide my head. yond' same cloud cannot choose but fall by pailfuls.

What have we here? a man or a fish? Dead or alive? A fish: he smells like a fish; a very ancient and fish-like smell: a kind of, not of the newest, Poor-John. A strange fish! Were I in England now, (as once I was,) and had but this fish painted, not a holiday fool there but would give a piece of silver: there would this monster make a man; any strange beast there makes a man: when they will not give a doit to relieve a lame beggar, they will lay out ten to see a dead Indian. Legg'd like a man! and his fins like arms! Warm, o' my troth! I do now let loose my opinion, hold it no longer; this is no fish but an islander, that hath lately suffered by a thunderbolt. [Thunder.] Alas! the storm is come again: my best way is to creep under his gaberdine; there is no other shelter hereabout: Misery acquaints a man with strange bed-fellows.

A bumbard is a black jack of leather, to hold beer, &c. 4 i. e. make a man's fortune. Thus in A Midsummer-Night's Dream: "We are all made men;" and in the old comedy of Ram Alley: "She's a wench was born to make us all."

A gaberdine was a coarse outer garment. "A shepherd's pelt, frock, or gaberdine, such a coarse long jacket as our porters wear over the rest of their garments," says Cotgrave. "A kind of rough cassock or frock like an Irish mantle," says Philips.

I will here shroud, till the dregs of the storm be past.

Enter STEPHANO, singing; a bottle in his hand.

Ste. I shall no more to sea, to sea,

Here shall I die ashore:

This is a very scurvy tune to sing at a man's funeral Well, here's my comfort.

The master, the swabber, the boatswain, and I,

The gunner, and his mate,

Lov'd Mall, Meg, and Marian, and Margery,
But none of us car'd for Kate:

For she had a tongue with a tang,
Would cry to a sailor, "Go, hang:"

[Drinks

She lov'd not the savour of tar nor of pitch,
Yet a tailor might scratch her where'er she did itch:
Then to sea, boys, and let her go hang.

This is a scurvy tune too: But here's my comfort.
[Drinks.

Cal. Do not torment me: O!

Ste. What's the matter? Have we devils here? Do you put tricks upon us with savages, and men of Inde! Ha! I have not scap'd drowning, to be afeard now of your four legs; for it hath been said, as proper a man as ever went on four legs cannot make him give ground: and it shall be said so again, while Stephano breathes at nostrils.

Cal. The spirit torments me: O!

Ste. This is some monster of the isle, with four legs; who hath got, as I take it, an ague: Where the devil should he learn our language? I will give him some relief, if it be but for that: If I can recover him, and keep him tame, and get to Naples with him, he's a present for any emperor that ever trod on neat's-leather.

Cal. Do not torment me, pr'ythee: I'll bring my wood home faster.

Ste. He's in his fit now, and does not talk after the wisest. He shall taste of my bottle: if he have never drunk wine afore, it will go near to remove his fit: If I can recover him, and keep him tame, I will not take too much for him: he shall pay for him that hath him, and that soundly.

Cal. Thou dost me yet but little hurt; thou wih anon, I know it by thy trembling: now Prosper works upon thee.

Ste. Come on your ways; open your mouth here is that which will give language to you, cat; open your mouth: this will shake your shaking, I can tell you, and that soundly: you cannot tell who's your friend: open your chaps again.

Trin. I should know that voice: It should be but he is drown'd; and these are devils: O! de fend me!

Ste. Four legs, and two voices! a most delicate inonster. His forward voice now is to speak well of his friend; his backward voice is to utter foul speeches, and to detract. If all the wine in my bottle will recover him, I will help his ague: Come, — Amen! I will pour some in thy other mouth. Trin. Stephano!

Ste. Doth thy other mouth call me? Mercy! mercy! This is a devil, and no monster: I will leave him; I have no long spoon.

No impertinent hint to those who indulge in the constant use of wine. When it is necessary for them as a medicine, it pro. duces no effect.

7 A piece of vulgar irony, meauing, I'll take as much as I can get.

Shakespeare gives his characters appropriate language. "They belch forth proverbs in their drink," "Good liquor will make a cat speak," and "He who eats with the devil had need