The Tempered

Chapter 4

Enter Caliban with a burden of wood. A noise of thunder heard.

CALIBAN

He lies down and covers himself with a cloak.

TRINCULO

All the infections that the sun sucks up

From bogs, fens, flats, on Prosper fall and make him

By inchmeal 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’ th’ 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,

Sometimes 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.

Enter Trinculo.

Here’s neither bush nor shrub to bear off

any weather at all. And another storm brewing; I

hear it sing i’ th’ 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. Noticing Caliban.

What have we here, a man or a fish? Dead or

alive? A fish, he smells like a fish—a very ancient

and fishlike smell, a kind of not-of-the-newest poor-John.

A strange fish. Were I in England now, as once

He crawls under Caliban’s cloak.

STEPHANO

Drinks.

Drinks.

CALIBAN

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. 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 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 bedfellows. I will here shroud till the

dregs of the storm be past.

Enter Stephano singing.

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.

Sings.

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 savor 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! O!

STEPHANO

CALIBAN

STEPHANO

CALIBAN

STEPHANO

CALIBAN

STEPHANO

TRINCULO

STEPHANO

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’ nostrils.

The spirit torments me. O!

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, 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.

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. Caliban drinks. 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

TRINCULO

STEPHANO

TRINCULO

STEPHANO

TRINCULO

STEPHANO

CALIBAN

He crawls out from under the cloak.

STEPHANO

speeches and to detract. If all the wine in my bottle

will recover him, I will help his ague. Come.

Caliban drinks. Amen! I will pour some in thy

other mouth.

Stephano!

Doth thy other mouth call me? Mercy, mercy,

this is a devil, and no monster! I will leave him; I

have no long spoon.

Stephano! If thou be’st Stephano, touch me

and speak to me, for I am Trinculo—be not

afeard—thy good friend Trinculo.

If thou be’st Trinculo, come forth. I’ll pull

thee by the lesser legs. If any be Trinculo’s legs,

these are they. He pulls him out from under Caliban’s

cloak. Thou art very Trinculo indeed. How

cam’st thou to be the siege of this mooncalf? Can

he vent Trinculos?

I took him to be killed with a thunderstroke.

But art thou not drowned, Stephano? I

hope now thou art not drowned. Is the storm

overblown? I hid me under the dead mooncalf’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 not

sprites. That’s a brave god and bears celestial liquor.

I will kneel to him.

, to Trinculo How didst thou scape? How

cam’st thou hither? Swear by this bottle how thou

cam’st 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 cast ashore.

CALIBAN

STEPHANO

TRINCULO

STEPHANO

Trinculo drinks.

TRINCULO

STEPHANO

CALIBAN

STEPHANO

CALIBAN

STEPHANO

Caliban drinks.

TRINCULO

CALIBAN

TRINCULO

CALIBAN

STEPHANO

Caliban kneels.

TRINCULO

I’ll swear upon that bottle to be thy true

subject, for the liquor is not earthly.

, to Trinculo 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 th’ seaside, where my wine is hid.—How now,

mooncalf, how does thine ague?

Hast thou not dropped from heaven?

Out o’ th’ moon, I do assure thee. I was the

man i’ th’ moon when time was.

I have seen thee in her, and I do adore thee.

My mistress showed 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’ th’ 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—

STEPHANO

TRINCULO

CALIBAN

TRINCULO

CALIBAN

STEPHANO

CALIBAN

TRINCULO

CALIBAN

STEPHANO

They exit.

Come, kiss.

—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 poor drunkard.

, standing

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.

sings drunkenly

Farewell, master, farewell, farewell.

A howling monster, a drunken monster.

sings

No more dams I’ll make for fish,

Nor fetch in firing

At requiring,

Nor scrape trenchering, nor wash dish.

’Ban, ’ban, Ca-caliban

Has a new master. Get a new man.

Freedom, high-day! High-day, freedom! Freedom,

high-day, freedom!

O brave monster! Lead the way.

They Exit .