Page:Tempest (1918) Yale.djvu/29

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Of Sycorax, toads, beetles, bats, light on you!

For I am all the subjects that you have,

Which first was mine own king; and here you sty me

In this hard rock, whiles you do keep from me

The rest o' th' island.

Pro. Thou most lying slave,

Whom stripes may move, not kindness! I have us'd thee,

Filth as thou art, with human care; and lodg'd thee

In mine own cell, till thou didst seek to violate

The honour of my child.

Cal. Oh ho! Oh ho!—would it had been done!

Thou didst prevent me; I had peopled else

This isle with Calibans.

Pro. Abhorred slave,

Which any print of goodness will not take,

Being capable of all ill! I pitied thee,

Took pains to make thee speak, taught thee each hour

One thing or other: when thou didst not, savage,

Know thine own meaning, but wouldst gabble like

A thing most brutish, I endow'd thy purposes

With words that made them known: but thy vile race,

Though thou didst learn, had that in 't which good natures

Could not abide to be with; therefore wast thou

Deservedly confin'd into this rock,

Who hadst deserv'd more than a prison.

Cal. You taught me language; and my profit on 't

Is, I know how to curse: the red plague rid you,

For learning me your language!

Pro. Hag-seed, hence!

Fetch us in fuel; and be quick, thou'rt best,

 351 Cf. n.

364 rid: destroy

