The Tempest | Page 5

his great person perish.
Pros. Ariel, thy charge Exactly is perform'd: but there's more work. What is the time o' the day?
Ari. Past the mid season.
Pros. At least two glasses. The time 'twixt six and now 240 Must by us both be spent most preciously.
Ari. Is there more toil? Since thou dost give me pains, Let me remember thee what thou hast promised, Which is not yet perform'd me.
Pros. How now? moody? What is't thou canst demand?
Ari. My liberty. 245
Pros. Before the time be out? no more!
Ari. I prithee, Remember I have done thee worthy service; Told thee no lies, made thee no mistakings, served Without or grudge or grumblings: thou didst promise To bate me a full year.
Pros. Dost thou forget 250 From what a torment I did free thee?
Ari. No.
Pros. Thou dost; and think'st it much to tread the ooze Of the salt deep, To run upon the sharp wind of the north, To do me business in the veins o' the earth 255 When it is baked with frost.
Ari. I do not, sir.
Pros. Thou liest, malignant thing! Hast thou forgot The foul witch Sycorax, who with age and envy Was grown into a hoop? hast thou forgot her?
Ari. No, sir.
Pros. Thou hast. Where was she born? speak; tell me. 260
Ari. Sir, in Argier.
Pros. O, was she so? I must Once in a month recount what thou hast been, Which thou forget'st. This damn'd witch Sycorax, For mischiefs manifold, and sorceries terrible To enter human hearing, from Argier, 265 Thou know'st, was banish'd: for one thing she did They would not take her life. Is not this true?
Ari. Ay, sir.
Pros. This blue-eyed hag was hither brought with child, And here was left by the sailors. Thou, my slave, 270 As thou report'st thyself, wast then her servant; And, for thou wast a spirit too delicate To act her earthy and abhorr'd commands, Refusing her grand hests, she did confine thee, By help of her more potent ministers, 275 And in her most unmitigable rage, Into a cloven pine; within which rift Imprison'd thou didst painfully remain A dozen years; within which space she died, And left thee there; where thou didst vent thy groans 280 As fast as mill-wheels strike. Then was this island-- Save for the son that she did litter here, A freckled whelp hag-born--not honour'd with A human shape.
Ari. Yes, Caliban her son.
Pros. Dull thing, I say so; he, that Caliban, 285 Whom now I keep in service. Thou best know'st What torment I did find thee in; thy groans Did make wolves howl, and penetrate the breasts Of ever-angry bears: it was a torment To lay upon the damn'd, which Sycorax 290 Could not again undo: it was mine art, When I arrived and heard thee, that made gape The pine, and let thee out.
Ari. I thank thee, master.
Pros. If thou more murmur'st, I will rend an oak, And peg thee in his knotty entrails, till 295 Thou hast howl'd away twelve winters.
Ari. Pardon, master: I will be correspondent to command, And do my spiriting gently.
Pros. Do so; and after two days I will discharge thee.
Ari. That's my noble master! What shall I do? say what; what shall I do? 300
Pros. Go make thyself like a nymph o' the sea: Be subject to no sight but thine and mine; invisible To every eyeball else. Go take this shape, And hither come in't: go, hence with diligence!
[Exit Ariel.
Awake, dear heart, awake! thou hast slept well; 305 Awake!
Mir. The strangeness of your story put Heaviness in me.
Pros. Shake it off. Come on; We'll visit Caliban my slave, who never Yields us kind answer.
Mir. 'Tis a villain, sir, I do not love to look on.
Pros. But, as 'tis, 310 We cannot miss him: he does make our fire, Fetch in our wood, and serves in offices That profit us. What, ho! slave! Caliban! Thou earth, thou! speak.
Cal. [within] There's wood enough within.
Pros. Come forth, I say! there's other business for thee: 315 Come, thou tortoise! when?
Re-enter ARIEL like a water-nymph.
Fine apparition! My quaint Ariel, Hark in thine ear.
Ari. My lord, it shall be done. [Exit.
Pros. Thou poisonous slave, got by the devil himself Upon thy wicked dam, come forth! 320
Enter CALIBAN.
Cal. As wicked dew as e'er my mother brush'd With raven's feather from unwholesome fen Drop on you both! a south-west blow on ye And blister you all o'er!
Pros. For this, be sure, to-night thou shalt have cramps, 325 Side-stitches that shall pen thy breath up; urchins Shall, for that vast of night that they may work, All exercise on thee; thou shalt be pinch'd As thick as honeycomb, each pinch more stinging Than bees that made 'em.
Cal. I must eat my dinner. 330 This island's mine, by Sycorax my mother, Which thou takest from me. When thou