comme un creux sous un pli



drowning and big fishes


This blue-ey’d hag was hither brought with child

And here as left by th’ sailors. Thou, my slave,

As thou report’ts thyself, wast then her servant;

And, for thou wast a spirit too delicate to act her earthy and abhorr’d commands,

Refusing her grand hests, she did confine thee,

By help of her more potent ministers,

And in her most unmitigable rage,

Into a cloven pine; within wich rift

Imprisonn’d thou didst painfully remain

A dozen years; within space she died

And left thee there; where thou didst vent thy groans

As fast as millwheles strike. Then was this island

(Save for the son she did litter here, a freckled whelp, hag-born) not honour’d with

A human shape.

Shakespeare, The Tempest