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