Listen to Act 2. LibriVox volunteers recorded “Act II” as one track, so it runs past this scene and includes stage directions this page leaves out. LibriVox catalog.
CALIBAN
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.
CALIBAN
Lo, now, lo! Here comes a spirit of his, and to torment me For bringing wood in slowly. I’ll fall flat; he will not mind me.
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. 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 lately suffered by thunderbolt. 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. I will here shroud till the dregs of the storm be past.
STEPHANO
I shall no more to sea, to sea, Here shall I die ashore—
STEPHANO
This is a very scurvy tune to sing at a man’s funeral. Well, here’s my comfort.
STEPHANO
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!” 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.
STEPHANO
This is a scurvy tune too: but here’s my comfort.
CALIBAN
Do not torment me: O!
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 scap’d drowning, to be afeard now of your four legs; for it 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.
CALIBAN
The spirit torments me: O!
STEPHANO
This is some monster of the isle with four legs, who 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.
CALIBAN
Do not torment me, ; I’ll bring my wood home faster.
STEPHANO
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 him, and that soundly.
CALIBAN
me yet but little hurt; wilt , I know it by trembling: now Prosper works upon .
STEPHANO
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.
TRINCULO
I should know that voice: it should be—but he is drowned; and these are devils. O, defend me!
STEPHANO
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 other mouth.
TRINCULO
Stephano!
STEPHANO
other mouth call me? Mercy! mercy! This is a devil, and no monster: I will leave him; I have no long spoon.
TRINCULO
Stephano! If beest Stephano, touch me, and speak to me; for I am Trinculo—be not afeared—thy good friend Trinculo.
STEPHANO
If beest Trinculo, come forth. I’ll pull by the lesser legs: if any be Trinculo’s legs, these are they. art very Trinculo indeed! How cam’st to be the siege of this moon-calf? Can he vent Trinculos?
TRINCULO
I took him to be kill’d with a thunderstroke. But art not drown’d, Stephano? I hope now are not drown’d. Is the storm overblown? I hid me under the dead moon-calf’s gaberdine for fear of the storm. And art living, Stephano? O Stephano, two Neapolitans scap’d!
STEPHANO
, do not turn me about. My stomach is not constant.
CALIBAN
These be fine things, an if they be not sprites. That’s a brave god, and bears celestial liquor. I will kneel to him.
STEPHANO
How scape? How cam’st ? Swear by this bottle how 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
I’ll swear upon that bottle to be true subject, for the liquor is not earthly.
STEPHANO
Here. Swear then how escapedst.
TRINCULO
Swum ashore, man, like a duck: I can swim like a duck, I’ll be sworn.
STEPHANO
Here, kiss the book. Though canst swim like a duck, art made like a goose.
TRINCULO
O Stephano, any more of this?
STEPHANO
The whole butt, man: my cellar is in a rock by th’ seaside, where my wine is hid. How now, moon-calf! How does ague?
CALIBAN
not dropped from heaven?
STEPHANO
Out o’ the moon, I do assure : I was the Man in the Moon, when time was.
CALIBAN
I have seen in her, and I do adore . My mistress showed me , and dog, and bush.
STEPHANO
Come, swear to that. Kiss the book. I will furnish it with new contents. Swear.
TRINCULO
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!
CALIBAN
I’ll show every fertile inch o’ the island; and I will kiss foot. I , be my god.
TRINCULO
By this light, a most perfidious and drunken monster. When ’s god’s asleep, he’ll rob his bottle.
CALIBAN
I’ll kiss foot. I’ll swear myself subject.
STEPHANO
Come on, then; down, and swear.
TRINCULO
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
Come, kiss.
TRINCULO
But that the poor monster’s in drink. An abominable monster!
CALIBAN
I’ll show the best springs; I’ll pluck berries; I’ll fish for , and get wood enough. A plague upon the tyrant that I serve! I’ll bear him no more sticks, but follow , wondrous man.
TRINCULO
A most ridiculous monster, to make a wonder of a poor drunkard!
CALIBAN
I , let me bring where crabs grow; And I with my long nails will dig pig-nuts; Show a jay’s nest, and instruct how To snare the nimble marmoset; I’ll bring To clustering filberts, and sometimes I’ll get Young scamels from the rock. Wilt go with me?
STEPHANO
I 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.
CALIBAN
Farewell, master; farewell, farewell!
TRINCULO
A howling monster, a drunken monster.
CALIBAN
No more dams I’ll make for fish; Nor fetch in firing At requiring, Nor scrape trenchering, nor wash dish; ’Ban ’Ban, Cacaliban, Has a new master—Get a new man. Freedom, high-day! high-day, freedom! freedom, high-day, freedom!