The Tempest by William Shakespeare
page 21 of 106 (19%)
page 21 of 106 (19%)
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Fine apparision: my queint Ariel,
Hearke in thine eare Ar. My Lord, it shall be done. Enter. Pro. Thou poysonous slaue, got by y diuell himselfe Vpon thy wicked Dam; come forth. Enter Caliban. Cal. As wicked dewe, as ere my mother brush'd With Rauens feather from vnwholesome Fen Drop on you both: A Southwest blow on yee, And blister you all ore Pro. For this be sure, to night thou shalt haue cramps, Side-stitches, that shall pen thy breath vp, Vrchins Shall for that vast of night, that they may worke All exercise on thee: thou shalt be pinch'd As thicke as hony-combe, each pinch more stinging Then Bees that made 'em Cal. I must eat my dinner: This Island's mine by Sycorax my mother, Which thou tak'st from me: when thou cam'st first Thou stroakst me, & made much of me: wouldst giue me Water with berries in't: and teach me how |
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