Enter CALIBAN with a burden of wood A
noise of thunder heard
All the infections that the sun sucks up
From bogs, fens, flats, on Prosper fall and make him
By inchmeal a disease! His spirits hear me
And yet I needs must curse. But they’ll nor pinch,
5Fright me with urchin-shows, pitch me i' th'
Nor lead me like a firebrand in the dark
Out of my way, unless he bid 'em. But
For every trifle are they set upon me,
Sometime like apes that mow and chatter at me,
10And after bite me, then like hedgehogs which
Lie tumbling in my barefoot way and mount
Their pricks at my footfall. Sometime am I
All wound with adders who with cloven tongues
Do hiss me into madness.
Lo, now, lo!
15Here comes a spirit of his, and to torment me
For bringing wood in slowly. I’ll fall flat.
Perchance he will not mind me.
(lies down, covered by his gaberdine)
Here’s neither bush nor shrub to bear off any weather
20And another storm brewing, I hear it sing i'
th' wind. Yond same black cloud, yond huge one, looks
like a foul bombard that would shed his liquor. If it should thunder
as it did before, I know not where to hide my head. Yond same cloud
cannot choose but fall by pailfuls.