know thou darest, But this thing dare not,-- That's most certain. Thou shalt be lord of it and I'll serve thee. How now shall this be compassed? Canst thou bring me to the party? Yea, yea, my lord: I'll yield him thee asleep, Where thou mayst knock a nail into his bead. Thou liest; thou canst not. What a pied ninny's this! Thou scurvy patch! I do beseech thy greatness, give him blows And take his bottle from him: when that's gone He shall drink nought but brine; for I'll not show him Where the quick freshes are. Trinculo, run into no further danger: interrupt the monster one word further, and, by this hand, I'll turn my mercy out o' doors and make a stock-fish of thee. Why, what did I? I did nothing. I'll go farther off. Didst thou not say he lied? Thou liest. Do I so? take thou that. As you like this, give me the lie another time. I did not give the lie. Out o' your wits and bearing too? A pox o' your bottle! this can sack and drinking do. A murrain on your monster, and the devil take your fingers! Ha, ha, ha! Now, forward with your tale. Prithee, stand farther off. Beat him enough: after a little time I'll beat him too. Stand farther. Come, proceed. Why, as I told thee, 'tis a custom with him, I' th' afternoon to sleep: there thou mayst brain him, Having first seized his books, or with a log Batter his skull, or paunch him with a stake, Or cut his wezand with thy knife. Remember First to possess his books; for without them He's but a sot, as I am, nor hath not One spirit to command: they all do hate him As rootedly as I. Burn but his books. He has brave utensils,--for so he calls them-- Which when he has a house, he'll deck withal And that most deeply to consider is The beauty of his daughter; he himself Calls her a nonpareil: I never saw a woman, But only Sycorax my dam and she; But she as far surpasseth Sycorax As great'st does least. Is it so brave a lass? Ay, lord; she will become thy bed, I warrant. And bring thee forth brave brood. Monster, I will kill this man: his daughter and I will be king and queen--save our graces!--and Trinculo and thyself shall be viceroys. Dost thou like the plot, Trinculo? Excellent. Give me thy hand: I am