Trinculo
Monster, I do smell all horse-piss; at which my nose is in great indignation.
Stephano
So is mine. Do you hear, monster? If I should take a displeasure against you, look you—
Trinculo
Thou wert but a lost monster.
Caliban
Good my lord, give me thy favour still.
Be patient, for the prize I’ll bring thee to
Shall hoodwink this mischance: therefore speak softly.
All’s hush’d as midnight yet.
Trinculo
Ay, but to lose our bottles in the pool—
Stephano
There is not only disgrace and dishonour in that, monster, but an infinite loss.
Trinculo
That’s more to me than my wetting: yet this is your harmless fairy, monster.
Stephano
I will fetch off my bottle, though I be o’er ears for my labour.
Caliban
This is the mouth o’ the cell: no noise, and enter.
Do that good mischief which may make this island
Thine own for ever, and I, thy Caliban,
For aye thy foot-licker.