Page:MU KPB 012 The Tempest - Illustrated by Rackham.pdf/53

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THE TEMPEST
39

Prospero.

This isle with Calibans. Abhorred slave,
Which any print of goodness wilt 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 confined into this rock,
Who hadst deserved more than a prison.

Caliban.

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!

Prospero.

For learning me your language! Hag-seed, hence!
Fetch us in fuel; and be quick, thou ’rt best,
To answer other business. Shrug’st thou, malice?
If thou neglect’st or dost unwillingly
What I command, I ’Il rack thee with old cramps,
Fill all thy bones with aches, make thee roar
That beasts shall tremble at thy din.

Caliban.

That beasts shall tremble at thy din. No, pray thee.
[Aside.] I must obey: his art is of such power,
It would control my dam’s god, Setebos,
And made a vassal of him.