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 hath lately suffered by 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 bed-fellows. I will here shroud till the dregs of the storm be past.

Enter STEPHANO singing; a bottle in his hand STEPHANO I shall no more to sea, to sea, Here shall I die ashoreThis is a very scurvy tune to sing at a man’s funeral; well, here’s my comfort.

[Drinks] 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! This is a scurvy tune too; but here’s my comfort. [Drinks]

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 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.

CALIBAN The spirit torments me. O! STEPHANO 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.

CALIBAN Do not torment me, prithee; 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 hath him, and that soundly.

CALIBAN Thou dost me yet but little hurt; thou wilt anon, I know it by thy trembling; now Prosper works upon thee.