SCENE II. Another part of the Island. Enter CALIBAN, with a burden of wood. A noise of thunder heard. Cal. All the infections, that the sun sucks up And yet I needs must curse. But they'll nor pinch, Sometime like apes, that moe5 and chatter at me, Enter TRINCULO. Here comes a spirit of his; and, to torment me, Trin. Here's neither bush nor shrub, to bear off any weather at all, and another storm brewing; I hear it sing i' the wind: yond' same black cloud, yond' huge 5 that moe, &c.] i. e. make mouths. So, in the old version of the Psalms: - making moes at me.” Again, in the Mystery of Candlemas-Day, 1512: "And make them to lye and mowe like an ape." Again, in Sidney's Arcadia, Book III: Ape great thing gave, though he did mowing stand, "The instrument of instruments, the hand." Steevens. So, in Nashe's Apologie of Pierce Penniless, 1593: "-found nobody at home but an ape, that sate in the porch and made mops and mows at him." Malone. 6 Their pricks-] i. e. prickles. Steevens. 7 — wound with adders,] Enwrapped by adders, wound or twisted about me. Johnson. G 8 one, looks like a foul bumbard, that would shed his liquor. If it should thunder, as it did before, I know not where to hide my head: yond' same cloud cannot choose but fall by pail-fuls.-What have we here? a man or a fish? Dead or alive? A fish: he smells like a fish; a very ancient and fish-like smell; a kind of, not of the newest, Poor-John. A strange fish! Were I in England now, (as once I was,) and had but this fish painted, not a holiday fool there, but would give a piece of silver: there, would this monster make a man;1 any strange 8 looks like a foul bumbard-] This term again occurs in The First Part of Henry IV: "—that swoln parcel of dropsies, that huge bumbard of sack-" And again, in Henry VIII. " And here you lie baiting of bombards, when you should do service." By these several passages, 'tis plain, the word meant a large vessel for holding drink, as well as the piece of ordnance so called. Theobald. Ben Jonson, in his Masque of Augurs, confirms the conjecture of Theobald: "The poor cattle yonder are passing away the time with a cheat loaf, and a bumbard of broken beer." So again, in The Martyr'd Soldier, by Shirley, 1638: "His boots as wide as the black-jacks, "Or bumbards, toss'd by the king's guards." And it appears from a passage in Ben Jonson's Masque of Love Restor'd, that a bombard-man was one, who carried about provisions. "I am to deliver into the buttery, so many firkins of aurum potabile, as it delivers out bombards of bouge," &c. Again, in Decker's Match me in London, 1631: "You are ascended up to what you are, from the black-jack, to the bumbard distillation." Steevens. 9 this fish painted,] To exhibit fishes, either real or imaginary, was very common about the time of our author. So, in Jasper Maine's comedy of the City Match: "Enter Bright, &c. hanging out the picture of a strange fish." This is the fifth fish now "That he hath shewn thus." It appears from the books at Stationers' Hall, that in 1604 was published, "A strange reporte of a monstrous fish, that appeared in the form of a woman from her waist upward, seene in the sea." So likewise, in Churchyard's Prayse and Reporte of Maister Martyne Forboisher's Voyage to Meta Incognita, &c. bl. 1. 12mo. 1578: "And marchyng backe, they found a straunge Fish, dead, that had been caste from the sea on the shore, who had a boane in his head like an Unicorne, which they brought awaye and presented to our Prince, when thei came home." Steevens. 1 make a man;] That is, make a man's fortune. So, in A Midsummer Night's Dream: "—we are all made men.” Johnson. 3 beast there makes a man: when they will not give a doit to relieve a lame beggar, they will lay out ten to see a dead Indian. Legg'd like a man! and his fins like arms! -Warm, o' my troth! I do now let loose my opinion,3 hold it no longer; this is no fish, but an islander, that hath lately suffered by a thunder-bolt. [Thunder.] Alas! the storm is come again: my best way is to creep under his gaberdine; there is no other shelter hereabout: Again, in Ram-alley, or Merry Tricks, 1611: 66 66 She's a wench 2- a dead Indian.] In a subsequent speech of Stephano, we have: "-savages and men of Inde," in Love's Labour Lost, -a rude and savage man of Inde," and in K. Henry VIII. the porter asks the mob, if they think "some strange Indian, &c. is come to court." Perhaps all these passages allude to the Indians brought home by Sir Martin Frobisher. Queen Elizabeth's original instructions to him (MS. now before me) "concerning his voyage to Cathaia," &c. contain the following article: "You shall not bring aboue iii or iiii persons of that countrey, the which shall be of diuers ages, and shall be taken in such sort as you may best avoyde offence of that people." In the year 1577, "A description of the portrayture and shape of those strange kinde of people which the wurthie Mr. Martin Fourbosier brought into England in Ao. 1576," was entered on the books of the Stationer's Company. By Frobisher's First Voyage for the Discoverie of Cataya, bl. 1. 4to. 1578, the fate of the first savage taken by him is ascertained." Whereupon when he founde himself in captiuitie, for very choler and disdain he bit his tong in twaine within his mouth: notwithstanding, he died not thereof, but liued untill he came in Englande, and then he died of colde which he had taken at sea." Steevens. ઃઃ 3 let loose my opinion, &c.] So, in Love's Labour Lost: -Now you will be my purgation, and let me loose." Steevens. 4 — his gaberdine;] A gaberdine is properly the coarse frock or outward garment of a peasant. Spanish Gaberdina. So, in Look about you, 1600: "I'll conjure his gaberdine." The gaberdine is still worn by the peasants in Sussex. Steevens. It here, however, means, I believe, a loose felt cloak. Minsheu, in his DICT. 1617, calls it "a rough Irish mantle, or horseman's coat. Gaban, Span. and Fr.-Læna, i. e. vestis quæ super cætera vestimenta imponebatur." See also, Cotgrave's DICT. in v. gaban, and galleverdine. Malone. Misery acquaints a man with strange bedfellows." I will here shroud, till the dregs of the storm be past. Enter STEPHANO, singing; a bottle in his hand. STE. I shall no more to sea, to sea, Here shall I dye a-shore ; This is a very scurvy tune to sing at a man's funeral: The master, the swabber, the boatswain, and I, Lov'd Mall, Meg, and Marian, and Margery, [Drinks. She lov'd not the savour of tar, nor of pitch, This is a scurvy tune too: But here's my comfort. 6 [Drinks. Cal. Do not torment me: O! Ste. What's the matter? Have we devils here? Do you put tricks upon us with savages, and men of Inde? Ha! I have not 'scap'd drowning, to be afeard now of your four legs; for it hath been said, As proper a man as ever went on four legs, cannot make him give ground: and it shall be said so again, while Stephano breathes at nostrils. Cal. The spirit torments me: O! Ste. This is some monster of the isle, with four legs: who hath got, as I take it, an ague: Where the devil 5 a very ancient and fish like smell-misery acquaints a man with strange bedfellows.] One would almost think that Shakspeare had not been unacquainted with a passage in the fourth book of Homer's Odyssey, as translated by Chapman : 6 66 The sea-calves savour was "So passing sowre (they still being bred at seas,) "To lie by one of these same sea-bred whales?" Steevens. savages,] The folio reads-salvages, and rightly. It was the spelling and pronunciation of the time. So, in Spenser's Fairy Queen, B. VI. c. 8, st. 35: "There dwelt a salvage nation,” &c. Reed. should he learn our language? I will give him some relief, if it be but for that: If I can recover him, and keep him tame, and get to Naples with him, he's a present for any emperor, that ever trod on neat's-leather. Cal. Do not torment me, pr'ythee; I'll bring my wood home faster. Ste. He's in his fit now; and does not talk after the wisest. He shall taste of my bottle: if he have never drunk wine afore, it will go near to remove his fit:7 if I can recover him, and keep him tame, I will not take too much for him: he shall pay for him, that hath him, and that soundly. Cal. Thou dost me yet but little hurt; thou wilt Anon, I know it by thy trembling:9 Now Prosper works upon thee. Ste. Come on your ways;* open your mouth: here is 7 if he have never drunk wine afore, it will go near to remove his fit:] This is no impertinent hint to those, who indulge themselves in a constant use of wine. When it is necessary for them as a medicine, it produces no effect. Steevens. 8 too much -] Too much means, any sum, ever so much. So, in the Letters from the Paston Family, Vol. II. p. 219: "And ye be beholdyng unto my Lady for hyr good wurde, for sche hath never preysyd yowe to much.” i. e. though she has praised you much, her praise is not above your merit. It has, however, been observed to me, that when the vulgar mean to ask an extravagant price for any thing, they say, with a laugh, I won't make him pay twice for it. This sense sufficiently accommodates itself to Trinculo's expression. Mr. M. Mason explains the passage differently." I will not take for him even more than he is worth." Steevens. I think the meaning is, Let me take what sum I will, however great, I shall not take too much for him: it is impossible for me to sell him too dear. Malone. 9 - I know it by thy trembling:] This tremor is always represented as the effect of being possessed by the devil. So, in the Comedy of Errors, Act IV. sc. iv: "Mark how he trembles in his ecstacy!" Steevens. * The meaning of this expression, appears to have escaped the attention of the various commentators. The words Come on your ways, as applied to Caliban, who is supposed to be lying on his face, must be understood "Come on your side; open your mouth," &c. The position of Caliban, not permitting him to drink from the bottle, Stephano, in the phrase of a mariner, naturally ad |