Be not afeard; the isle is full of noises,
Sounds and sweet airs, that give delight and hurt not.
Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments
Will hum about mine ears, and sometime voices
That, if I then had waked after long sleep,
Will make me sleep again: and then, in dreaming,
The clouds methought would open and show riches
Ready to drop upon me that, when I waked,
I cried to dream again.

– William Shakespeare

The Tempest, Act 3, Scene 2. This is one of the most poetic passages in The Tempest, spoken by Caliban, and the speech has a haunting and dream-like quality about it. It shows that Caliban is not just all monster and anger but a much more complicated and multi-sided character capable of eloquence and beautiful expression. He describes the magical qualities of his beloved island of which is a native, his deep attachment to it, and his own dreams. In his moving speech Caliban attempts to reassure the others, spooked by the invisible Ariel’s mysterious music resulting from Prospero’s magic, that the island is indeed full of sounds and music that give pleasure but don’t hurt. Does this poetic speech with its powerful imagery and calm and thoughtful language reflect the true nature of Caliban? Is his brutish and monstrous and side then a reaction to the cruel way he has been treated by his slave master Prospero – a case of nurture and not nature? If you treat a person like a monster, do they not sometimes become the monster? The Tempest is often seen as a critique on the cruel treatment of colonized peoples by their European colonizers, as depicted in Prospero’s treatment of Caliban and Ariel.