_Trinc._ If thou wert a monster of parts, I would make thee my master of ceremonies, to conduct 'em in. The devil take all dunces! thou hast lost a brave employment, by not being a linguist, and for want of behaviour. _Syc._ My lord, shall I go meet 'em? I'll be kind to all of 'em, just as I am to thee. _Trinc._ No, that's against the fundamental laws of my dukedom: You are in a high place, spouse, and must give good example. Here they come; we'll put on the gravity of statesmen, and be very dull, that we may be held wise. _Enter_ STEPHANO, VENTOSO, _and_ MUSTACHO. _Vent._ Duke Trincalo, we have considered. _Trinc._ Peace or war? _Must._ Peace, and the butt. _Steph._ I come now as a private person, and promise to live peaceably under your government. _Trinc._ You shall enjoy the benefits of peace; and the first fruits of it, amongst all civil nations, is to be drunk for joy: Caliban, skink about. _Steph._ I long to have a rouse to her grace's health, and to the _haunse in kelder_, or rather haddock in kelder, for I guess it will be half fish. [_Aside._ _Trinc._ Subject Stephano, here's to thee; and let old quarrels be drowned in this draught. [_Drinks._ _Steph._ Great magistrate, here's thy sister's health to thee. [_Drinks to_ CALIB. _Syc._ He shall not drink of that immortal liquor; my lord, let him drink water. _Trinc._ O sweetheart, you must not shame yourself to-day. Gentlemen subjects, pray bear with her good huswifery: She wants a little breeding, but she's hearty. _Must._ Ventoso, here's to thee. Is it not better to pierce the butt, than to quarrel and pierce one another's bellies? _Vent._ Let it come, boy. _Trinc._ Now would I lay greatness aside, and shake my heels, if I had but music. _Calib._ O my lord! my mother left us in her will a hundred spirits to attend us, devils of all sorts, some great roaring devils, and some little singing spirits. _Syc._ Shall we call? And thou shalt hear them in the air. _Trinc._ I accept the motion: Let us have our mother-in-law's legacy immediately. CALIBAN SINGS. _We want music, we want mirth. Up, dam, and cleave the earth: We have no lords that wrong us, Send thy merry spirits among us._ _Trinc._ What a merry tyrant am I, to have my music, and pay nothing for't! _A table rises, and four Spirits with wine and meat enter, placing it, as they dance, on the table: The dance ended, the bottles vanish, and the table sinks again._ _Vent._ The bottle's drunk. _Must._ Then the bottle's a weak shallow fellow, if it be drunk first. _Trinc._ Stephano, give me thy hand: thou hast been a rebel, but here's to thee: [_Drinks_.] Pr'ythee, why should we quarrel? Shall I swear two oaths? By bottle, and by butt, I love thee: In witness whereof I drink soundly.