CALIBAN.
The spirit torments me: O!
STEPHANO.
This is some monster of the isle with four legs, who hath got, as I take it, an ague. Where the devil should he learn our language? I will give him some relief, if it be but for that. If I can recover him and keep him tame, and get to Naples with him, he’s a present for any emperor that ever trod on neat’s-leather.
CALIBAN.
Do not torment me, prithee; I’ll bring my wood home faster.
STEPHANO.
He’s in his fit now, and does not talk after the wisest. He shall taste of my bottle: if he have never drunk wine afore, it will go near to remove his fit. If I can recover him, and keep him tame, I will not take too much for him. He shall pay for him that hath him, and that soundly.
CALIBAN.
Thou dost me yet but little hurt; thou wilt anon,
I know it by thy trembling: now Prosper works upon thee.
STEPHANO.
Come on your ways. Open your mouth; here is that which will give language to you, cat. Open your mouth. This will shake your shaking, I can tell you, and that soundly. [gives Caliban a drink] You cannot tell who’s your friend: open your chaps again.
TRINCULO.
I should know that voice: it should be—but he is drowned; and these are devils. O, defend me!
STEPHANO.
Four legs and two voices; a most delicate monster! His forward voice now is to speak well of his friend; his backward voice is to utter foul speeches and to detract. If all the wine in my bottle will recover him, I will help his ague. Come. Amen! I will pour some in thy other mouth.
TRINCULO.
Stephano!
STEPHANO.
Doth thy other mouth call me? Mercy! mercy!
This is a devil, and no monster: I will leave him; I
have no long spoon.