_Calib._ [_within_.] There's wood enough within. _Prosp._ Thou poisonous slave! got by the devil himself Upon thy wicked dam, come forth! _Enter_ CALIBAN. _Calib._ As wicked dew, as e'er my mother brushed with raven's feather from unwholesome fens, drop on you both! A south-west wind blow on you, and blister you all o'er! _Prosp._ For this, be sure, to-night thou shalt have cramps, side-stitches, that shall pen thy breath up: Urchins shall prick thee till thou bleed'st: Thou shalt be pinched as thick as honey-combs, each pinch more stinging than the bees which made them. _Calib._ I must eat my dinner: This island's mine by Sycorax my mother, which thou took'st from me. When thou earnest first, thou stroak'dst me, and madest much of me; would'st give me water with berries in't, and teach me how to name the bigger light, and how the less, that burn by day and night; and then I loved thee, and showed thee all the qualities of the isle, the fresh-springs, brine-pits, barren places, and fertile. Cursed be I, that I did so! All the charms of Sycorax, toads, beetles, bats, light on thee! for I am all the subjects that thou hast. I first was mine own lord; and here thou stayest me in this hard rock, while thou dost keep from me the rest o'the island. _Prosp._ Thou most lying slave, whom stripes may move, not kindness! I have used thee, filth as thou art! with human care; and lodged thee in mine own cell, till thou didst seek to violate the honour of my children. _Calib._ Oh, ho! oh, ho! would it had been done! Thou didst prevent me, I had peopled else this isle with Calibans. _Prosp._ Abhorred slave! who ne'er wouldst any print of goodness 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 thy own meaning, but wouldst gabble like a thing most brutish, I endowed thy purposes with words, which made them known.--But thy wild race (though thou didst learn) had that in't, which good natures could not abide to be with; therefore wast thou deservedly pent up into this rock. _Calib._ You taught me language; and my profit by it is, that I know to curse. The red botch rid you for learning me your language! _Prosp._ Hag-seed, hence! Fetch us in fuel, and be quick To answer other business.--Shrug'st thou, malice! If thou neglectest, or dost unwillingly What I command, I'll rack thee with old cramps; Fill all thy bones with aches; make thee roar, That beasts shall tremble at thy din. _Calib._ No, pr'ythee! I must obey. His art is of such power, It would controul my dam's god, Setebos, And make a vassal of him. _Prosp._ So, slave, hence! [_Exeunt_ PROSP. _and_ CALIB. _severally_. _Enter_ DORINDA. _Dor._ Oh, sister! what have I beheld! _Mir._ What is it moves you so?