CALIBAN        Within this half hour will he be asleep.

Wilt thou destroy him then?

STEPHANO                                                    Ay, on my honour.

ARIEL             [aside] This will I tell my master.

CALIBAN        Thou mak’st me merry; I am full of pleasure.

Let us be jocund. Will you troll the catch

You taught me but whilere?

STEPHANO    At thy request, monster. I will do reason, any reason. Come on, Trinculo, let us sing.

Sings.  Flout ’em and scout ’em,

And scout ’em and flout ’em,

Thought is free.

CALIBAN        That’s not the tune.

Ariel plays the tune on a tabor and pipe.

STEPHANO    What is this same?

TRINCULO      This is the tune of our catch, played by the picture of Nobody.

STEPHANO    If thou be’st a man, show thyself in thy likeness. If thou be’st a devil, take’t as thou list.

TRINCULO      O, forgive me my sins!

STEPHANO    He that dies pays all debts. I defy thee. Mercy upon us! (3.2.113-132)

Caliban has learned careful timekeeping from Prospero, it seems; another example of the way in which this play is so explicit and precise about its timeframe. Half an hour for the plot to be frustrated… But Stephano promises, on his honour (of which he is so jealous) that he will kill Prospero. A bargain’s made. But Ariel is on to it; they’re here, invisible, remember. And that invisibility is about to be neatly re-established, in case the audience has forgotten. So Caliban and Stephano and Trinculo have got time to fill – what better than a sing-along? (This probably indicates something about casting: these are the company’s clowns and fools; they would be expected to sing.) Stephano has previously, whilere, a short time ago, taught Caliban a catch, a three-part song sung as a round (there’s one in Twelfth Night, sung by Feste, Sir Toby, and Sir Andrew; these may well be the same actors) and now Caliban asks him to troll it, sing it loudly, presumably so that Trinculo and Caliban can join in. Stephano is now feeling very well disposed towards Caliban – and the world in general, it seems – and he’ll do anything within reason. (Sadly, at thy request doesn’t mean that Stephano is taking requests generally, just that, seeing as Caliban’s asking…) The song itself is slight; it seems to be a song about disobedience (rules are flouted) and mockery (scout means to mock or deride) if not outright rebellion. Scout is cout in the Folio, the play’s earliest surviving text, and the emendation is standard; cout means something similar, to jeer or mock, but could also be obscene, especially if the u is turned into an n, a standard typographical error, or even without (compare cut, often obscene in early modern usage; compare Malvolio’s lingering over Olivia’s Cs, Us, and Ts when he reads the forged letter in Twelfth Night.). Thought is free sounds wonderfully revolutionary; it’s not really, but rather a common proverb meaning, I can think what I like, and perhaps implicitly, it doesn’t matter what you think. (Also found in Twelfth Night, where it’s said by Maria to Sir Andrew and Sir Toby.) There’s potential for considerable comedy in Caliban’s That’s not the tune – Stephano is presumably so drunk that he’s caterwauling tunelessly – and another potential indication of Caliban’s sharpness, although it could be genuine puzzlement. But then Ariel intervenes, with their tabor and pipe (so, not singing this time), playing the tune of the catch perfectly (a tabor, small drum, and pipe would be the appropriate instruments for this sort of popular song, in comparison with, say, a lute) – and thus establishing that they’re invisible, when Trinculo and Stephano make it clear that they can’t see where the music is coming from: it is as if it’s being played by the picture of Nobody. And they freak out (understandably). Stephano is briefly brave: if thou be’st a man, show thyself – but mostly they fear that this is a devil (which was what they originally thought of Caliban). And the two Neopolitans are terrified: forgive me my sins! Mercy upon us! Caliban, however, is not afraid…