Cal.
330 I must eat my dinner.
This island’s mine, by Sycorax my mother,
Which thou takest from me. When thou [camest] first,
Thou strokedst me, and [madest] much of me; wouldst give me
Water with berries in’t; and teach me how
335 To name the bigger light, and how the less,
That burn by day and night: and then I loved thee,
And show’d thee all the qualities o’ th’ isle,
The fresh springs, brine-pits, barren place and fertile: