I shall be pincht to death
Alo. Is not this Stephano, my drunken Butler?
Seb. He is drunke now;
Where had he wine?
Alo. And Trinculo is reeling ripe: where should they
Finde this grand Liquor that hath gilded 'em?
How cam'st thou in this pickle?
Tri. I haue bin in such a pickle since I saw you last,
That I feare me will neuer out of my bones:
I shall not feare fly-blowing
Seb. Why how now Stephano?
Ste. O touch me not, I am not Stephano, but a Cramp
Pro. You'ld be King o'the Isle, Sirha?
Ste. I should haue bin a sore one then
Alo. This is a strange thing as ere I look'd on
Pro. He is as disproportion'd in his Manners
As in his shape: Goe Sirha, to my Cell,
Take with you your Companions: as you looke
To haue my pardon, trim it handsomely
Cal. I that I will: and Ile be wise hereafter,
And seeke for grace: what a thrice double Asse
Was I to take this drunkard for a god?
And worship this dull foole?
Pro. Goe to, away
Alo. Hence, and bestow your luggage where you found it
Seb. Or stole it rather
Pro. Sir, I inuite your Highnesse, and your traine
To my poore Cell: where you shall take your rest
For this one night, which part of it, Ile waste
With such discourse, as I not doubt, shall make it
Goe quicke away: The story of my life,
And the particular accidents, gon by
Since I came to this Isle: And in the morne
I'le bring you to your ship, and so to Naples,
Where I haue hope to see the nuptiall
Of these our deere-belou'd, solemnized,
And thence retire me to my Millaine, where
Euery third thought shall be my graue
Alo.
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