Dagger of the Mind - The Caliban Stomp (Scenes from The Tempest)

A devil - born devil - on whose nature nature can never stick;
On whom my pains – humanely taken – all lost quite lost;
And as with age his body uglier grows,
So his mind cankers. I will plague them all…

A freckled whelp hag-born—not honour'd with a human shape.

Caliban—half man, got the power of the beast within his hand
On an island, in a storm—the power of the beast is born!

I'll show thee the best springs; I'll pluck thee berries;
I'll fish for thee and get thee wood enough.
A plague upon the tyrant that I serve!
I'll bear him no more sticks, but follow thee…

I'll show thee every fertile inch o' th' island;
And I will kiss thy foot; I prithee, be my god.

All the infections that the sun sucks up
From bogs, fens, flats, on Prosper fall and make him
By inch-meal a disease! His spirits hear me
And yet I needs must curse. But they'll nor pinch,
Fright me with urchin-shows, pitch me i' the mire,
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
And 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…