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- ACT ONE THE TEMPEST SCENE TWO
Save for the son that she did litter here,
A freckled whelp hag-born— not honour'd with
A human shape.
Ariel. Yes, Caliban her son.
Prospero. Dull thing-, I say so; he, that Caliban,
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
Could not again undo : it was mine art,
When I arrived and heard thee, that made gape
The pine, and let thee out.
Ariel. I thank thee, master.
Prospero. If thou more murmur'st, I will rend an oak,
And peg thee in his knotty entrails, till
Thou hast howl'd away twelve winters.
Ariel. Pardon, master:
I will be correspondent to command.
And do my spiriting gently.
Prospero. Do so ; and after two days
I will discharge thee.
Ariel. That's my noble master!
What shall I do? say what; what shall I do?
Prospero. 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 v/ell :
Awake !
Miranda. The strangeness of your story put
Heaviness in me.
Prospero. Shake it off. Come on;
We'll visit Caliban my slave, who never
Yields us kind answer.
Miranda. 'Tis a villain, sir,
I do not love to look on.
Prospero. But, as 'tis,
We cannot miss him : he does make our fire,
Fetch in our wood, and serves in offices
B 17
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