Cal. Prithee, my king, be quiet. See’st thou here,
215 This is the mouth o’ the cell: no noise, and enter.
Do that good mischief which may make this island
Thine own for ever, and I, thy Caliban,
For aye thy foot-licker.
Ste. Give me thy hand. I do begin to have bloody 220 thoughts.
Trin. O King Stephano! O peer! O worthy Stephano! look what a wardrobe here is for thee!
Cal. Let it alone, thou fool; it is but trash.
Trin. O, ho, monster! we know what belongs to a frippery. IV. 1. 225 O King Stephano!
Ste. Put off that gown, Trinculo; by this hand, I’ll have that gown.