Another part of the island.
(Caliban; Stephano; Trinculo; Ariel)
Trinculo mocks Caliban, who has not taste for him but worships Stephano. As Ariel comes in, invisible, Caliban begins to tell his new friends of how Prospero is a tyrant. Ariel says he is lying, and makes it sound as though Tinculo were speaking. When he denies it, Stephano beats him. Caliban encourages Stephano in his plot to become master of the island by telling him that they could kill Prospero during his afternoon nap, so long as they burn his books first, since they are the source of his power. The mutineers begin to sing, and Ariel plays along; Trinculo and Stephano are terrified, but Caliban tells them that there are always noises on the island, some of which are so beautiful he thinks he’s dreaming when he hears them. Caliban leads the other two on as Ariel flies off to warn Prospero. (111 lines)
Enter Caliban, Stephano, and Trinculo.
Tell not me. When the butt is out, we will drink water—not a drop before; therefore bear up and board ’em. Servant-monster, drink to me.
Servant-monster? The folly of this island! They say there’s but five upon this isle: we are three of them; if th’ other two be brain’d like us, the state totters.
Drink, servant-monster, when I bid thee. Thy eyes are almost set in thy head.
Where should they be set else? He were a brave monster indeed if they were set in his tail.
My man-monster hath drown’d his tongue in sack. For my part, the sea cannot drown me; I swam, ere I could recover the shore, five and thirty leagues off and on. By this light, thou shalt be my lieutenant, monster, or my standard.
Your lieutenant if you list, he’s no standard.
We’ll not run, Monsieur Monster.
Nor go neither; but you’ll lie like dogs, and yet say nothing neither.
Moon-calf, speak once in thy life, if thou beest a good moon-calf.
How does thy honor? Let me lick thy shoe. I’ll not serve him, he is not valiant.
Thou liest, most ignorant monster, I am in case to justle a constable. Why, thou debosh’d fish thou, was there ever man a coward that hath drunk so much sack as I today? Wilt thou tell a monstrous lie, being but half a fish and half a monster?
Lo, how he mocks me! Wilt thou let him, my lord?
“Lord,” quoth he? That a monster should be such a natural!
Lo, lo again. Bite him to death, I prithee.
Trinculo, keep a good tongue in your head. If you prove a mutineer—the next tree! The poor monster’s my subject, and he shall not suffer indignity.
I thank my noble lord. Wilt thou be pleas’d to hearken once again to the suit I made to thee?
Marry, will I; kneel, and repeat it. I will stand, and so shall Trinculo.
Enter Ariel, invisible.
As I told thee before, I am subject to a tyrant,
A sorcerer, that by his cunning hath
Cheated me of the island.
Thou liest, thou jesting monkey thou!
I would my valiant master would destroy thee.
I do not lie.
Trinculo, if you trouble him any more in ’s tale, by this hand, I will supplant some of your teeth.
Why, I said nothing.
Mum then, and no more.—Proceed.
I say by sorcery he got this isle;
From me he got it. If thy greatness will
Revenge it on him—for I know thou dar’st,
But this thing dare not—
That’s most certain.
Thou shalt be lord of it, and I’ll serve thee.
How now shall this be compass’d? Canst thou bring me to the party?
Yea, yea, my lord. I’ll yield him thee asleep,
Where thou mayst knock a nail into his head.
Thou liest, thou canst not.
What a pied ninny’s this! Thou scurvy patch!
I do beseech thy greatness, give him blows,
And take his bottle from him. When that’s gone,
He shall drink nought but brine, for I’ll not show him
Where the quick freshes are.
Trinculo, run into no further danger; interrupt the monster one word further, and by this hand, I’ll turn my mercy out o’ doors, and make a stock-fish of thee.
Why, what did I? I did nothing. I’ll go farther off.
Didst thou not say he lied?
Do I so? Take thou that.
As you like this, give me the lie another time.
I did not give the lie. Out o’ your wits, and hearing too? A pox o’ your bottle! This can sack and drinking do. A murrain on your monster, and the devil take your fingers!
Ha, ha, ha!
Now forward with your tale.—Prithee stand further off.
Beat him enough. After a little time
I’ll beat him too.
Stand farther.—Come, proceed.
Why, as I told thee, ’tis a custom with him
I’ th’ afternoon to sleep. There thou mayst brain him,
Having first seiz’d his books; or with a log
Batter his skull, or paunch him with a stake,
Or cut his wezand with thy knife. Remember
First to possess his books; for without them
He’s but a sot, as I am; nor hath not
One spirit to command: they all do hate him
As rootedly as I. Burn but his books.
He has brave utensils (for so he calls them)
Which when he has a house, he’ll deck withal.
And that most deeply to consider is
The beauty of his daughter. He himself
Calls her a nonpareil. I never saw a woman
But only Sycorax my dam and she;
But she as far surpasseth Sycorax
As great’st does least.
Is it so brave a lass?
Ay, lord, she will become thy bed, I warrant,
And bring thee forth brave brood.
Monster, I will kill this man. His daughter and I will be king and queen—’save our Graces! And Trinculo and thyself shall be viceroys. Dost thou like the plot, Trinculo?
Give me thy hand. I am sorry I beat thee; but while thou liv’st keep a good tongue in thy head.
Within this half hour will he be asleep.
Wilt thou destroy him then?
Ay, on mine honor.
This will I tell my master.
Thou mak’st me merry; I am full of pleasure,
Let us be jocund. Will you troll the catch
You taught me but while-ere?
At thy request, monster, I will do reason, any reason. Come on, Trinculo, let us sing.
“Flout ’em and scout ’em,
And scout ’em and flout ’em!
Thought is free.”
That’s not the tune.
Ariel plays the tune on a tabor and pipe.
What is this same?
This is the tune of our catch, play’d by the picture of Nobody.
If thou beest a man, show thyself in thy likeness. If thou beest a devil, take’t as thou list.
O, forgive me my sins!
He that dies pays all debts. I defy thee. Mercy upon us!
Art thou afeard?
No, monster, not I.
Be not afeard, the isle is full of noises,
Sounds, and sweet airs, that give delight and hurt not.
Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments
Will hum about mine ears; and sometime voices,
That if I then had wak’d after long sleep,
Will make me sleep again, and then in dreaming,
The clouds methought would open, and show riches
Ready to drop upon me, that when I wak’d
I cried to dream again.
This will prove a brave kingdom to me, where I shall have my music for nothing.
When Prospero is destroy’d.
That shall be by and by. I remember the story.
The sound is going away. Let’s follow it, and after do our work.
Lead, monster, we’ll follow. I would I could see this taborer; he lays it on.
Wilt come? I’ll follow Stephano.