Tell not me:—when the butt is out we will drink water; not a drop

before: therefore bear up, and board ’em. Servant-monster, drink to me.

Servant-monster! The folly of this island! They say there’s but five

upon this isle; we are three of them; if th’ other two be brained like

us, the state totters.

Drink, servant-monster, when I bid thee: thy eyes are almost set in thy

head.

Where should they be set else? He were a brave monster indeed, if they

were set in his tail.

My man-monster hath drown’d his tongue in sack: for my part, the sea

cannot drown me; I swam, ere I could recover the shore, five-and-thirty

leagues, off and on, by this light. Thou shalt be my lieutenant,

monster, or my standard.

Your lieutenant, if you list; he’s no standard.

We’ll not run, Monsieur monster.

Nor go neither. But you’ll lie like dogs, and yet say nothing neither.

Moon-calf, speak once in thy life, if thou beest a good moon-calf.

How does thy honour? Let me lick thy shoe. I’ll not serve him, he is

not valiant.

Thou liest, most ignorant monster: I am in case to justle a constable.

Why, thou deboshed fish thou, was there ever man a coward that hath

drunk so much sack as I today? Wilt thou tell a monstrous lie, being

but half a fish and half a monster?

Lo, how he mocks me! wilt thou let him, my lord?

“Lord” quoth he! That a monster should be such a natural!

Lo, lo again! bite him to death, I prithee.

Trinculo, keep a good tongue in your head: if you prove a mutineer, the

next tree! The poor monster’s my subject, and he shall not suffer

indignity.

I thank my noble lord. Wilt thou be pleas’d to hearken once again to

the suit I made to thee?

Marry. will I. Kneel and repeat it. I will stand, and so shall

Trinculo.

As I told thee before, I am subject to a tyrant, a sorcerer, that by

his cunning hath cheated me of the island.

Thou liest.

Thou liest, thou jesting monkey, thou;

I would my valiant master would destroy thee;

I do not lie.

Trinculo, if you trouble him any more in his tale, by this hand, I will

supplant some of your teeth.

Why, I said nothing.

Mum, then, and no more. Proceed.

I say, by sorcery he got this isle;

From me he got it. If thy greatness will,

Revenge it on him,—for I know thou dar’st;

But this thing dare not,—

That’s most certain.

Thou shalt be lord of it and I’ll serve thee.

How now shall this be compassed? Canst thou bring me to the party?

Yea, yea, my lord: I’ll yield him thee asleep,

Where thou mayst knock a nail into his head.

Thou liest. Thou canst not.

What a pied ninny’s this! Thou scurvy patch!

I do beseech thy greatness, give him blows,

And take his bottle from him: when that’s gone

He shall drink nought but brine; for I’ll not show him

Where the quick freshes are.

Trinculo, run into no further danger: interrupt the monster one word

further, and by this hand, I’ll turn my mercy out o’ doors, and make a

stock-fish of thee.

Why, what did I? I did nothing. I’ll go farther off.

Didst thou not say he lied?

Thou liest.

Do I so? Take thou that.

As you like this, give me the lie another time.

I did not give the lie. Out o’ your wits and hearing too? A pox o’ your

bottle! this can sack and drinking do. A murrain on your monster, and

the devil take your fingers!

Ha, ha, ha!

Now, forward with your tale.—Prithee stand further off.

Beat him enough: after a little time,

I’ll beat him too.

Stand farther.—Come, proceed.

Why, as I told thee, ’tis a custom with him

I’ th’ afternoon to sleep: there thou mayst brain him,

Having first seiz’d his books; or with a log

Batter his skull, or paunch him with a stake,

Or cut his wezand with thy knife. Remember

First to possess his books; for without them

He’s but a sot, as I am, nor hath not

One spirit to command: they all do hate him

As rootedly as I. Burn but his books.

He has brave utensils,—for so he calls them,—

Which, when he has a house, he’ll deck withal.

And that most deeply to consider is

The beauty of his daughter; he himself

Calls her a nonpareil: I never saw a woman

But only Sycorax my dam and she;

But she as far surpasseth Sycorax

As great’st does least.

Is it so brave a lass?

Ay, lord, she will become thy bed, I warrant,

And bring thee forth brave brood.

Monster, I will kill this man. His daughter and I will be king and

queen,—save our graces!—and Trinculo and thyself shall be viceroys.

Dost thou like the plot, Trinculo?

Excellent.

Give me thy hand: I am sorry I beat thee; but while thou liv’st, keep a

good tongue in thy head.

Within this half hour will he be asleep.

Wilt thou destroy him then?

Ay, on mine honour.

This will I tell my master.

Thou mak’st me merry. I am full of pleasure.

Let us be jocund: will you troll the catch

You taught me but while-ere?

At thy request, monster, I will do reason, any reason. Come on,

Trinculo, let us sing.

_Flout ’em and cout ’em,

and scout ’em and flout ’em:

Thought is free._

That’s not the tune.

What is this same?

This is the tune of our catch, played by the picture of Nobody.

If thou beest a man, show thyself in thy likeness: if thou beest a

devil, take ’t as thou list.

O, forgive me my sins!

He that dies pays all debts: I defy thee. Mercy upon us!

Art thou afeard?

No, monster, not I.

Be not afeard. The isle is full of noises,

Sounds, and sweet airs, that give delight, and hurt not.

Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments

Will hum about mine ears; and sometimes voices,

That, if I then had wak’d after long sleep,

Will make me sleep again: and then, in dreaming,

The clouds methought would open and show riches

Ready to drop upon me; that, when I wak’d,

I cried to dream again.

This will prove a brave kingdom to me, where I shall have my music for

nothing.

When Prospero is destroyed.

That shall be by and by: I remember the story.

The sound is going away. Let’s follow it, and after do our work.

Lead, monster: we’ll follow. I would I could see this taborer! he lays

it on. Wilt come?

I’ll follow, Stephano.