Another part of the island.
Enter CALIBAN with a burden of wood. A noise of thunder heard
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 firebrand, in the dark
Out of my way, unless he bid 'em; but
For every trifle are they set upon me;
Sometime like apes that mow and chatter at me
And after bite me, then like hedgehogs which
Lie tumbling in my barefoot way and mount
Their pricks at my footfall; sometime am I
All wound with adders who with cloven tongues
Do hiss me into madness.
Lo, now, lo!
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.
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
bombard 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 lazy out ten to see a dead
Indian. Legged 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
Alas, the storm is come again! my best way is to
creep under his gaberdine; there is no other
shelter hereabouts: misery acquaints a man with
strange bed-fellows. I will here shroud till the
dregs of the storm be past.
Enter STEPHANO, singing: a bottle in his hand
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
Loved Mall, Meg and Marian and Margery,
But none of us cared for Kate;
For she had a tongue with a tang,
Would cry to a sailor, Go hang!
She loved 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.
Do not torment me: Oh!
What's the matter? Have we devils here? Do you put
tricks upon's with savages and men of Ind, ha? I
have not scaped 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's nostrils.
The spirit torments me; Oh!
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.
Do not torment me, prithee; I'll bring my wood home faster.
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 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.
Thou dost me yet but little hurt; thou wilt anon, I
know it by thy trembling: now Prosper works upon thee.
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.
I should know that voice: it should be--but he is
drowned; and these are devils: O defend me!
Four legs and two voices: a most delicate monster!
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.
Doth thy other mouth call me? Mercy, mercy! This is
a devil, and no monster: I will leave him; I have no
Stephano! If thou beest Stephano, touch me and
speak to me: for I am Trinculo--be not afeard--thy
good friend Trinculo.
If thou beest Trinculo, come forth: I'll pull thee
by the lesser legs: if any be Trinculo's legs,
these are they. Thou art very Trinculo indeed! How
camest thou to be the siege of this moon-calf? can
he vent Trinculos?
I took him to be killed with a thunder-stroke. But
art thou not drowned, Stephano? I hope now thou art
not drowned. Is the storm overblown? I hid me
under the dead moon-calf's gaberdine for fear of
the storm. And art thou living, Stephano? O
Stephano, two Neapolitans 'scaped!
Prithee, do not turn me about; my stomach is not constant.
[Aside] These be fine things, an if they be
That's a brave god and bears celestial liquor.
I will kneel to him.
How didst thou 'scape? How camest thou hither?
swear by this bottle how thou camest hither. I
escaped upon a butt of sack which the sailors
heaved o'erboard, by this bottle; which I made of
the bark of a tree with mine own hands since I was
I'll swear upon that bottle to be thy true subject;
for the liquor is not earthly.
Here; swear then how thou escapedst.
Swum ashore. man, like a duck: I can swim like a
duck, I'll be sworn.
Here, kiss the book. Though thou canst swim like a
duck, thou art made like a goose.
O Stephano. hast any more of this?
The whole butt, man: my cellar is in a rock by the
sea-side where my wine is hid. How now, moon-calf!
how does thine ague?
Hast thou not dropp'd from heaven?
Out o' the moon, I do assure thee: I was the man i'
the moon when time was.
I have seen thee in her and I do adore thee:
My mistress show'd me thee and thy dog and thy bush.
Come, swear to that; kiss the book: I will furnish
it anon with new contents swear.
By this good light, this is a very shallow monster!
I afeard of him! A very weak monster! The man i'
the moon! A most poor credulous monster! Well
drawn, monster, in good sooth!
I'll show thee every fertile inch o' th' island;
And I will kiss thy foot: I prithee, be my god.
By this light, a most perfidious and drunken
monster! when 's god's asleep, he'll rob his bottle.
I'll kiss thy foot; I'll swear myself thy subject.
Come on then; down, and swear.
I shall laugh myself to death at this puppy-headed
monster. A most scurvy monster! I could find in my
heart to beat him,--
But that the poor monster's in drink: an abominable monster!
I'll show thee the best springs; I'll pluck thee berries;
I'll fish for thee and get thee wood enough.
A plague upon the tyrant that I serve!
I'll bear him no more sticks, but follow thee,
Thou wondrous man.
A most ridiculous monster, to make a wonder of a
I prithee, let me bring thee where crabs grow;
And I with my long nails will dig thee pignuts;
Show thee a jay's nest and instruct thee how
To snare the nimble marmoset; I'll bring thee
To clustering filberts and sometimes I'll get thee
Young scamels from the rock. Wilt thou go with me?
I prithee now, lead the way without any more
talking. Trinculo, the king and all our company
else being drowned, we will inherit here: here;
bear my bottle: fellow Trinculo, we'll fill him by
and by again.
Farewell master; farewell, farewell!
A howling monster: a drunken monster!
No more dams I'll make for fish
Nor fetch in firing
Nor scrape trencher, nor wash dish
'Ban, 'Ban, Cacaliban
Has a new master: get a new man.
Freedom, hey-day! hey-day, freedom! freedom,
O brave monster! Lead the way.
Caliban, meanwhile, grudgingly gathered wood for Prospero. Approaching thunder evoked perfectly Caliban's mood. With Prospero far away Caliban grumbled aloud.
"May all the infections bred by the sun from bogs, fens and swamps fall on Prospero and give him a disease, limb by limb. His spirit servants might be able to hear me but even so I need to curse him. But they won't frighten me with apparitions or by pinching me. They won't throw me in the mud or lead me astray in the dark with will 'o the wisps, unless he has decreed it. Any little offence and he sets them loose on me! Sometimes they act like monkeys chattering, jeering and biting me. Or like hedgehogs lying in my path so that I stand on them and prick my feet. And sometimes Prospero sends adders to wrap themselves round me and hiss and point their tongues at me until I’m terrified!"
Caliban stood still. He saw one of Prospero's spirits. But he was mistaken- it was Trinculo, a jester from the ship.
"Look!" Caliban said to himself, "here comes one of Prospero's spirits to torment for being too slow gathering wood. I'll lie flat and with a bit of luck he won't see me."
Caliban lay on the ground behind a decaying log. The log was punctuated with a few holes which allowed Caliban to keep an eye on the movements of Trinculo. Caliban not being particularly intelligent did not perceive how hesitant and disorientated Trinculo was.
"Oh, there's neither bush nor shrub here to keep off the weather at all and there's another storm brewing. I hear the wind picking up. The black cloud yonder, the far big one, looks like a rotten barrel that's about to explode and spew its booze. If it thunders like it did before I don't know where I can protect myself. That cloud is holding a brewery!"
Trinculo wandered around listlessly, hopelessly resigned to another soaking. He decided to sit on a log. The log behind which Caliban was hiding!
"What have we here? A man or a fish? Dead or alive? A fish. He smells like a fish. A very ancient, fishy smell."
Caliban still thought that this was one of Prospero's malevolent spirits and did not move.
"What kind of fish?
A kind of old salted hake.
A strange fish! If was in England now, as I once was, and had this fish painted every bumpkin would pay me a piece of silver for a peek! This monster would make me rich in England- any monster would make you rich in England! They won't give a halfpenny to a lame beggar put they pay ten to see a dead Indian!"
Excited by Caliban's lucrative potential Trinculo inspected him more closely.
"He has legs like a man. His fins are like arms! Lord, he's warm! I will have to change my mind- forget what I said before. This is not a fish, this is one of the locals, struck by a thunderbolt!"
As if to confirm Trinculo's opinion thunder boomed off the clouds again.
"Alas, the storm is back again! My best hope is to hide under his cape, there's no other shelter around here. Misery acquaints man with strange bedfellows, that’s all I can say! I'll stay here until the storm tires itself out."
Trinculo gingerly stretched Caliban's canvas cape over himself, apprehensively making the best of his lot. As the thunder eased Caliban and Trinculo heard some peculiar noises. It was the sound of bad singing. The singer was carrying bottle of liquor the swigging of which interrupted his singing. It was Stephano, the butler from the ship.
"I shall no more to sea, to sea
Here shall I die ashore-"
Stephano paused visibly unhappy at the sentiment of the song.
"Oh, this is a poxy song to sing at a man's funeral! Never mind, I've got my booze for comfort!"
Stephano took a long drink and after smacking his lips once again launched into song:
"The master, the deckhand, the bosun, and I,
The gunner and his mate,
Loved Moll, Meg and Marian, and Margery,
But none of us cared for Kate,
For she had a tongue with a tang,
Would scream at a sailor, ‘Go hang!’
She loved not the savour of tar nor of pitch:
Yet a tailor could scratch her wherever she had an itch.
Then to sea, boys, and let her go hang!”
He paused: “This is another poxy tune! Back to my comforting bottle!"
While Stephano was singing Caliban was still curled up in a terrified ball and thought the noise being made by Stephano was actually coming from Trinculo.
"Don't torment me!" Caliban groaned to Trinculo, still lying beside him.
Stephano heard Caliban's pleas and started.
"What's the matter? Have we devils here?"
He looked at his bottle of alcohol and then took a few paces around to investigate. He saw the bundle languishing behind the log and was dismayed.
"Is this a trick show with savages and Indians? I didn't escape drowning to be frightened now by something with four legs! As proper a man ever went on four legs wouldn't make me take to my heels, as the saying goes!"
"Oh, the spirit torments me!" Caliban squealed.
Stephano leapt back.
"This is some native creature with four legs and, as I guess, some kind of wound. How the devil did he learn our language? I'll give him some medicine to help him, if it's a minor thing. If I can nurse him and tame him and get him back to Naples he'd be quite a present for any emperor ever to wear shoe leather!"
Caliban still believed it was Trinculo who was talking.
"Please, don't torment me. I'll bring the wood in faster!"
"He's having a fit and is not talking any sense," Stephano said. "I'll give him a taste if my bottle. If he's never drunk wine before it will help get rid of this fit. If I can cure him and tame him I won't take too much from him, just enough to buy an awful lot!"
Stephano crouched to feed Caliban the alcohol. Meanwhile Trinculo had been shaking with terror and this got worse as Stephano approached and triggered off total panic in Caliban.
"You haven't hurt me yet but I know you will from the way you are trembling! Now Prospero has you doing his business!" Caliban yelled at Trinculo while Stephano, presuming this was aimed at him, stood bewildered.
"Over here: open wide! This booze is strong enough to get a cat to make sense! Open your mouth- I can tell you, and tell you sincerely, this will shake off your shaking! You don't recognise me as a friend! Now open your mouth wide."
Sheltered beneath Caliban's cape, Trinculo was stirring.
"I should know that voice! It should be him - but he drowned! These are devils! Oh, help me!" Trinculo squealed.
"Four legs and two voices! What a unique monster! His front voice is for speaking well of his friend and his back voice is used for foul speeches and detractions. If a little wine in my bottle cures him it will be worth it. Come you, enough!"
Stephano tottered about to find the source of Caliban's other voice to give that mouth some of the cure. When he found it he was amazed.
"Stephano!" Trinculo squealed.
"Is you other mouth calling me? Mercy, mercy! This is a devil not a monster! I will leave him. I don't have a spoon long enough to sup with the devil!"
"Stephano! If you be Stephano, touch me and speak to me! I'm Trinculo. Don't be frightened- your good friend Trinculo!"
"If you are Trinculo show yourself. I'll pull you by the two small legs. If any legs are Trinculo's it must be these. You are indeed Trinculo! How come you came out of there? Does he go to the toilet for a Trinculo?"
"I thought he had been killed by a thunderbolt. But what about you - weren’t you drowned, Stephano? I hope you’re not a ghost. Has the storm passed? I hid under the dead monster's cape to hide from the storm. And you are living, Stephano? Oh, Stephano, two Neapolitan survivors!"
Trinculo grabbed Stephano and shook and spun him to verify he too was alive.
"Please, don't spin me around. My stomach isn't up to it!"
Caliban sat watching with interest and curiosity trying to piece together the puzzle that was confronting him.
"These are fine men, if they are not spirits," Caliban thought to himself. "This Stephano is a brave god and bears a celestial potion, I will kneel to him."
"Trinculo, how did you escape?" Stephano asked. "How did you get here? Swear, by this bottle, how you got here! I escaped clinging to a wine cask the sailors threw overboard! I swear by this bottle I made here from tree bark"
Before Trinculo could answer Caliban leapt up and fell at Stephano's feet.
"I'll swear on that bottle to be your loyal subject. That liquor is heavenly!"
"Swear how you escaped, Trinculo," Stephano persisted.
"I swam ashore, like a duck. I'm a great swimmer, I swear."
"Here drink the holy liquor. You might be able to swim like a duck but you are a bit of a goose."
"Oh, Stephano, do you have any more?"
"A cask! My cellar is in a cave by the seaside, there I've hidden my wine. Well, monster, how's your fever?"
"Have you dropped from heaven?" Caliban asked.
"From the moon, I assure you. I was the man in the moon!"
"I have seen you in her and I adore you! My mistress showed you to me, and your dog and your bush."
"Oh! Come on, swear to that! Take another drink. There'll be plenty more later!"
"Goodness, this is a very silly monster. I afraid of him? What a weak monster! The man in the moon! A most credulous monster! Well drunk, monster!"
Caliban was still grovelling at Stephano's feet.
"I'll show you every fertile inch of this island. And I will kiss your feet. Please, be my god!"
Caliban saw that Stephano was nodding off, as he spoke he reached his hand out to get Stephano's bottle.
"Heavens, a wicked and drunken monster! When his god's asleep he tries to steal his bottle!" Trinculo yelled, shaking Stephano.
"I'll kiss your feet, I'll swear to be your subject."
"Come on, then: down and swear."
"I'll laugh myself to death because of this monster. He's so stupid I could beat him!" Trinculo said.
"Come on, kiss!" Stephano said wagging his feet at Caliban.
"Oh, that poor monster is drunk, an abominable monster!"
"I'll show you the best springs. I'll collect berries for you. I'll fish for you and get you all the wood you need. A plague upon the tyrant that I serve! I'll gather no more wood for him, be your disciple, you wondrous man!"
"Oh, what a ridiculous monster to mistake a drunkard for a god!" Trinculo sneered with a hint of jealousy.
"Please, let me show you where the apples grow. My long nails will allow me to dig you groundnuts. I'll show you a jay's nest and teach you how to snare the trickiest monkeys. I'll show you a cluster of nuts and sometimes I'll bring young birds from the cliffs. Will you go with me?"
"Pray, lead the way, without any more talking. Trinculo, since the King and the rest of the party have been drowned we will inherit this island. Here, Trinculo, carry my bottle. We will fill it soon."
As Caliban led then away he began to sing a good riddance to Prospero:
"Farewell, master, farewell, farewell!"
"A howling monster! A drunken monster!" Trinculo said in despair.
Caliban persisted with his singing.
"No more dams I'll scour for fish;
No fetching wood for firing
At Prospero’s requiring:
No wood bowl scraped, nor washed dish:
'Ban, 'Ban, Ca-Caliban
Has a new master- got a new man!"
Caliban paused and took a break from singing to shout at the lush vegetation: "Freedom, liberty! Liberty, freedom! Freedom, liberty!"
"O brave monster! Lead the way!" Stephano said, suitably impressed.