_Pros._ Sir, my liege, Do not infest your mind with beating on[463-50] The strangeness of this business; at pick'd leisure,[464-51] Which shall be shortly, single I'll resolve[464-52] you-- Which to you shall seem probable--of every These happen'd accidents:[464-53] till when, be cheerful, And think of each thing well.--[_Aside to ARIEL._] Come hither, spirit: Set Caliban and his companions free; Untie the spell. [_Exit ARI._]--How fares my gracious sir? There are yet missing of your company Some few odd lads that you remember not. _Re-enter ARIEL, driving in CALIBAN, STEPHANO, and TRINCULO, in their stolen apparel._ _Steph._ Every man shift for all the rest,[464-54] and let no man take care for himself; for all is but fortune.--Coragio,[464-55] bully-monster, coragio! _Trin._ If these be true spies which I wear in my head,[464-56] here's a goodly sight. _Cal._ O Setebos, these be brave spirits indeed! How fine my master is! I am afraid He will chastise me. _Sebas._ Ha, ha! What things are these, my Lord Antonio? Will money buy 'em? _Anto._ Very like; one of them Is a plain fish, and, no doubt, marketable. _Pros._ Mark but the badges of these men, my lords, Then say if they be true. This mis-shaped knave,-- His mother was a witch; and one so strong That could control the Moon, make flows and ebbs, And deal in her command without[465-57] her power. These three have robb'd me; and this demi-devil-- For he's but half a one--had plotted with them To take my life: two of these fellows you Must know and own; this thing of darkness I Acknowledge mine. _Cal._ I shall be pinch'd to death. _Alon._ Is not this Stephano, my drunken butler? _Sebas._ He is drunk now: where had he wine? _Alon._ And Trinculo is reeling ripe: where should they Find this grand liquor that hath gilded[465-58] 'em?-- How camest thou in this pickle? _Trin._ I have been in such a pickle since I saw you last, that I fear me, will never out of my bones: I shall not fear fly-blowing.[465-59] _Sebas._ Why, how now, Stephano! _Steph._ O, touch me not! I am not Stephano, but a cramp. _Pros._ You'd be king o' the isle, sirrah? _Steph._ I should have been a sore[465-60] one, then. _Alon._ [_Pointing to CAL._] This is as strange a thing as e'er I look'd on. _Pros._ He is as disproportion'd in his manners As in his shape.--Go, sirrah, to my cell; Take with you your companions; as you look To have my pardon, trim it handsomely. _Cal._ Ay, that I will; and I'll be wise hereafter, And seek for grace. What a thrice double ass Was I, to take this drunkard for a god, And worship this dull fool! _Pros._ Go to; away! _Alon._ Hence, and bestow your luggage where you found it. _Sebas._ Or stole it, rather.