by William Shakespeare (1564 - 1616)
Translation by Andrea Maffei (1798 - 1885)
All the infections that the sun sucks up
Language: English
Caliban All the infections that the sun sucks up from bogs, fens, flats, on Prosper' fall, and make him by inchmeal a disease. His spirits hear me, and yet I needs must curse, but they'll nor pinch! Fright me with urchin shows, pitch me in 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; sometimes like apes! Then like hedgehogs! Sometime am I all wound with adders who do hiss me into madness. All the infections that the sun sucks up from bogs, fens, flats, on Prosper' fall, and... Lo, now lo! Here comes a spirit of his. I'll fall flat! Perchance he'll not mind me.
About the headline (FAQ)
Authorship:
- by William Shakespeare (1564 - 1616), no title, appears in The Tempest, Act II, Scene 2 [author's text not yet checked against a primary source]
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):
- by Gary Bachlund (b. 1947), "Caliban's Song", 1989 [ bass-baritone and piano ] [sung text checked 1 time]
Available translations, adaptations or excerpts, and transliterations (if applicable):
- FRE French (Français) (François-Victor Hugo)
- ITA Italian (Italiano) (Andrea Maffei) , no title, first published 1869
Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]
This text was added to the website: 2007-05-11
Line count: 22
Word count: 125
Tutto il putrido umor che sugge il sole
Language: Italian (Italiano)  after the English
Tutto il putrido umor che sugge il sole Da gora, da palude o da maremma Piova a Prospero in capo, e lo ricopra Di tante piaghe, che non v’abbia un solo Pollice illeso. Ancor che i suoi demòni Mi stiano ad ascoltar, non so frenarmi Dal maledirlo. È ver che senza un cenno Di lui, nè que’ Coboldi a impaurirmi Verran, nè dentro a fetido pantano Mi tufferanno, nè di tizzi ardenti L’immagine prendendo, a notte buja Mi faranno smarrir la dritta via. Per nulla ei me li aizza. Or come scimie Che mi adescano pria con cento lazzi, Poi mi graffiano il viso; ora in figura D’istrici che s’aggrupppano in se stesse, Ed a’ pie’ mi si rotano, ficcando, Mentre sopra vi passo, i pungiglioni Nel mio nudo calcagno; ed ora in forma Di serpi che si avvinghiano al mio corpo, Ed un sibilo tal colle forcute Lingue attorno mi fan che ne impazzisco. (Entra Trinculo.) Oimè! che cosa è quella? Ecco uno spirto Che viemmi a tribolar perchè vo lento Col mio fascio di legna. Al suol boccone Stender mi vo’. Così forse dagli occhi Potrò sfuggirgli.
About the headline (FAQ)
Authorship:
- by Andrea Maffei (1798 - 1885), no title, first published 1869 [author's text checked 1 time against a primary source]
Based on:
- a text in English by William Shakespeare (1564 - 1616), no title, appears in The Tempest, Act II, Scene 2
Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive):
- [ None yet in the database ]
Researcher for this page: Andrew Schneider [Guest Editor]
This text was added to the website: 2019-05-09
Line count: 28
Word count: 189