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Aime Cesaire’s Tempest . Act I, scene 2: Caliban: Uhuru! Prospero: What did you say? Caliban: I said, Uhuru! Prospero: Back to your native language again. I’ve already told you, I don’t like it. You could be polite, at least: a simple “hello” wouldn’t kill you. Aime Cesaire’s Tempest .
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Aime Cesaire’s Tempest Act I, scene 2: Caliban: Uhuru! Prospero: What did you say? Caliban: I said, Uhuru! Prospero: Back to your native language again. I’ve already told you, I don’t like it. You could be polite, at least: a simple “hello” wouldn’t kill you.
Aime Cesaire’s Tempest Caliban: Oh, I forgot. . . . But as froggy, waspish, pustular and dung-filled a “hello” as possible. May today hasten by a decade the day when all the birds of the sky and beasts of the earth will feast upon your corpse! Prospero: Gracious as always, you ugly ape! How can anyone be so ugly?
Aime Cesaire’s Tempest From Act II: [Time passes, symbolized by the curtain’s being lowered halfway and re-raised. In semi-darkness Prospero appears, aged and weary. His gestures are jerky and automatic, his speech weak, toneless.]
Aime Cesaire’s Tempest End of the play: Prospero: Odd, but for some time now we seem to be overrun with opossums. Peccarys wild boar, all of the unpleasant animals! But mainly opossums. With those eyes! And the vile grin they have! It’s as though the jungle was laying siege to the cave. . . . But I shall stand firm. . . . I shall not let my work perish.
Aime Cesaire’s Tempest Prospero: [Shouting.] I shall protect civilization! [He fires in all directions.] They’re done for! Now, this way I’ll be able to have some peace and calm for a while. But it’s cold. Odd how the climate’s changed. Cold on this island. . . . Have to think about making a fire . . . . Well, Caliban, old fellow, it’s just us two now, here on the island. . . Only you and me. You and me. You-me. . . Me-you! What in the hell is he up to?
Aime Cesaire’s Tempest Prospero: . You-me. . . Me-you! What in the hell is he up to? [Shouting.] Caliban! In the distance, above the sound of the surf and the chirping of birds, we hear snatches of Caliban’s song.]