Calib. You taught me language; and my profit by it is, that I know to curse. The red botch rid you for learning me your language!
Prosp. Hag-seed, hence! Fetch us in fuel, and be quick To answer other business.—Shrug'st thou, malice! If thou neglectest, or dost unwillingly What I command, I'll rack thee with old cramps; Fill all thy bones with aches; make thee roar, That beasts shall tremble at thy din.
Calib. No, pr'ythee! I must obey. His art is of such power, It would controul my dam's god, Setebos, And make a vassal of him.
Prosp. So, slave, hence!
[Exeunt Prosp. and Calib. severally.
Enter Dorinda.
Dor. Oh, sister! what have I beheld!
Mir. What is it moves you so?
Dor. From yonder rock, As I my eyes cast down upon the seas, The whistling winds blew rudely on my face, And the waves roared; at first, I thought the war Had been between themselves, but straight I spied A huge great creature.
Mir. O, you mean the ship?
Dor. Is't not a creature then?—It seemed alive.