text stringlengths 0 63 |
|---|
To every eyeball else. Go take this shape |
And hither come in't: go, hence with diligence! |
Awake, dear heart, awake! thou hast slept well; Awake! |
MIRANDA: |
The strangeness of your story put |
Heaviness in me. |
PROSPERO: |
Shake it off. Come on; |
We'll visit Caliban my slave, who never |
Yields us kind answer. |
MIRANDA: |
'Tis a villain, sir, |
I do not love to look on. |
PROSPERO: |
But, as 'tis, |
We cannot miss him: he does make our fire, |
Fetch in our wood and serves in offices |
That profit us. What, ho! slave! Caliban! |
Thou earth, thou! speak. |
CALIBAN: |
PROSPERO: |
Come forth, I say! there's other business for thee: |
Come, thou tortoise! when? |
Fine apparition! My quaint Ariel, |
Hark in thine ear. |
ARIEL: |
My lord it shall be done. |
PROSPERO: |
Thou poisonous slave, got by the devil himself |
Upon thy wicked dam, come forth! |
CALIBAN: |
As wicked dew as e'er my mother brush'd |
With raven's feather from unwholesome fen |
Drop on you both! a south-west blow on ye |
And blister you all o'er! |
PROSPERO: |
For this, be sure, to-night thou shalt have cramps, |
Side-stitches that shall pen thy breath up; urchins |
Shall, for that vast of night that they may work, |
All exercise on thee; thou shalt be pinch'd |
As thick as honeycomb, each pinch more stinging |
Than bees that made 'em. |
CALIBAN: |
I must eat my dinner. |
This island's mine, by Sycorax my mother, |
Which thou takest from me. When thou camest first, |
Thou strokedst me and madest much of me, wouldst 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 show'd thee all the qualities o' the isle, |
The fresh springs, brine-pits, barren place and fertile: |
Cursed be I that did so! All the charms |
Of Sycorax, toads, beetles, bats, light on you! |
For I am all the subjects that you have, |
Which first was mine own king: and here you sty me |
In this hard rock, whiles you do keep from me |
The rest o' the island. |
PROSPERO: |
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 child. |
CALIBAN: |
O ho, O ho! would't had been done! |
Thou didst prevent me; I had peopled else |
This isle with Calibans. |
PROSPERO: |
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 |
Subsets and Splits
No community queries yet
The top public SQL queries from the community will appear here once available.