The Tempest by Shakespeare- for APPSC JL DL

Background

The Tempest is a play by William Shakespeare, probably written in 1610–1611, and thought to be one of the last plays that he wrote alone. The Tempest first appeared in print in 1623 in the collection of 36 of Shakespeare's plays titled, Mr. William Shakespeare's Comedies, Histories, & Tragedies; Published according to the True and Original Copies, which is known as the First Folio. The plays, including The Tempest, were gathered and edited by John Heminges and Henry Condell. The Folio text was based on a handwritten manuscript of The Tempest prepared by Ralph Crane, a scrivener employed by the King's Men.

 

There is no obvious single source text for the plot of The Tempest: it appears to have been created by Shakespeare with several sources contributing. The probable sources are:

o  The Sea Venture: William Strachey's A True Reportory of the Wracke and Redemption of Sir Thomas Gates, Knight, an eyewitness report of the real-life shipwreck of the Sea Venture in 1609 on the island of Bermuda while sailing toward Virginia, may be considered a primary source for the opening scene,

o  Montaigne's Of The Canibales: Gonzalo's description of his ideal society thematically and verbally echoes Montaigne's essay "Of the Canibales", translated into English in a version published by John Florio in 1603.

o  Ovid's Metamorphoses: A source for Prospero's speech in act five, in which he bids farewell to magic is an invocation by the sorceress Medea found in Ovid's poem Metamorphoses.

 

Summary

A storm strikes a ship carrying Alonso, Ferdinand, Sebastian, Antonio, Gonzalo, Stephano, and Trinculo, who are on their way to Italy after coming from the wedding of Alonso’s daughter, Claribel, to the prince of Tunis in Africa. The royal party and the other mariners, with the exception of the unflappable Boatswain, begin to fear for their lives. Lightning cracks, and the mariners cry that the ship has been hit. Everyone prepares to sink.

The next scene begins much more quietly. Miranda and Prospero stand on the shore of their island, looking out to sea at the recent shipwreck. Miranda asks her father to do anything he can to help the poor souls in the ship. Prospero assures her that everything is all right and then informs her that it is time she learned more about herself and her past. He reveals to her that he orchestrated the shipwreck and tells her the lengthy story of her past, a story he has often started to tell her before but never finished. The story goes that Prospero was the Duke of Milan until his brother Antonio, conspiring with Alonso, the King of Naples, usurped his position. Kidnapped and left to die on a raft at sea, Prospero and his daughter survive because Gonzalo leaves them supplies and Prospero’s books, which are the source of his magic and power. Prospero and his daughter arrived on the island where they remain now and have been for twelve years. Only now, Prospero says, has Fortune at last sent his enemies his way, and he has raised the tempest in order to make things right with them once and for all.

After telling this story, Prospero charms Miranda to sleep and then calls forth his familiar spirit Ariel, his chief magical agent. Prospero and Ariel’s discussion reveals that Ariel brought the tempest upon the ship and set fire to the mast. He then made sure that everyone got safely to the island, though they are now separated from each other into small groups. Ariel, who is a captive servant to Prospero, reminds his master that he has promised Ariel freedom a year early if he performs tasks such as these without complaint. Prospero chastises Ariel for protesting and reminds him of the horrible fate from which he was rescued. Before Prospero came to the island, a witch named Sycorax imprisoned Ariel in a tree. Sycorax died, leaving Ariel trapped until Prospero arrived and freed him. After Ariel assures Prospero that he knows his place, Prospero orders Ariel to take the shape of a sea nymph and make himself invisible to all but Prospero.

Miranda awakens from her sleep, and she and Prospero go to visit Caliban, Prospero’s servant and the son of the dead Sycorax. Caliban curses Prospero, and Prospero and Miranda berate him for being ungrateful for what they have given and taught him. Prospero sends Caliban to fetch firewood. Ariel, invisible, enters playing music and leading in the awed Ferdinand. Miranda and Ferdinand are immediately smitten with each other. He is the only man Miranda has ever seen, besides Caliban and her father. Prospero is happy to see that his plan for his daughter’s future marriage is working, but decides that he must upset things temporarily in order to prevent their relationship from developing too quickly. He accuses Ferdinand of merely pretending to be the Prince of Naples and threatens him with imprisonment. When Ferdinand draws his sword, Prospero charms him and leads him off to prison, ignoring Miranda’s cries for mercy. He then sends Ariel on another mysterious mission.

On another part of the island, Alonso, Sebastian, Antonio, Gonzalo, and other miscellaneous lords give thanks for their safety but worry about the fate of Ferdinand. Alonso says that he wishes he never had married his daughter to the prince of Tunis because if he had not made this journey, his son would still be alive. Gonzalo tries to maintain high spirits by discussing the beauty of the island, but his remarks are undercut by the sarcastic sourness of Antonio and Sebastian. Ariel appears, invisible, and plays music that puts all but Sebastian and Antonio to sleep. These two then begin to discuss the possible advantages of killing their sleeping companions. Antonio persuades Sebastian that the latter will become ruler of Naples if they kill Alonso. Claribel, who would be the next heir if Ferdinand were indeed dead, is too far away to be able to claim her right. Sebastian is convinced, and the two are about to stab the sleeping men when Ariel causes Gonzalo to wake with a shout. Everyone wakes up, and Antonio and Sebastian concoct a ridiculous story about having drawn their swords to protect the king from lions. Ariel goes back to Prospero while Alonso and his party continue to search for Ferdinand.

Caliban, meanwhile, is hauling wood for Prospero when he sees Trinculo and thinks he is a spirit sent by Prospero to torment him. He lies down and hides under his cloak. A storm is brewing, and Trinculo, curious about but undeterred by Caliban’s strange appearance and smell, crawls under the cloak with him. Stephano, drunk and singing, comes along and stumbles upon the bizarre spectacle of Caliban and Trinculo huddled under the cloak. Caliban, hearing the singing, cries out that he will work faster so long as the “spirits” leave him alone. Stephano decides that this monster requires liquor and attempts to get Caliban to drink. Trinculo recognizes his friend Stephano and calls out to him. Soon the three are sitting up together and drinking. Caliban quickly becomes an enthusiastic drinker, and begins to sing.

Prospero puts Ferdinand to work hauling wood. Ferdinand finds his labor pleasant because it is for Miranda’s sake. Miranda, thinking that her father is asleep, tells Ferdinand to take a break. The two flirt with one another. Miranda proposes marriage, and Ferdinand accepts. Prospero has been on stage most of the time, unseen, and he is pleased with this development.

Stephano, Trinculo, and Caliban are now drunk and raucous and are made all the more so by Ariel, who comes to them invisibly and provokes them to fight with one another by impersonating their voices and taunting them. Caliban grows more and more fervent in his boasts that he knows how to kill Prospero. He even tells Stephano that he can bring him to where Prospero is sleeping. He proposes that they kill Prospero, take his daughter, and set Stephano up as king of the island. Stephano thinks this a good plan, and the three prepare to set off to find Prospero. They are distracted, however, by the sound of music that Ariel plays on his flute and tabor-drum, and they decide to follow this music before executing their plot.

Alonso, Gonzalo, Sebastian, and Antonio grow weary from traveling and pause to rest. Antonio and Sebastian secretly plot to take advantage of Alonso and Gonzalo’s exhaustion, deciding to kill them in the evening. Prospero, probably on the balcony of the stage and invisible to the men, causes a banquet to be set out by strangely shaped spirits. As the men prepare to eat, Ariel appears like a harpy and causes the banquet to vanish. He then accuses the men of supplanting Prospero and says that it was for this sin that Alonso’s son, Ferdinand, has been taken. He vanishes, leaving Alonso feeling vexed and guilty.

Prospero now softens toward Ferdinand and welcomes him into his family as the soon-to-be-husband of Miranda. He sternly reminds Ferdinand, however, that Miranda’s “virgin-knot” (IV.i.15) is not to be broken until the wedding has been officially solemnized. Prospero then asks Ariel to call forth some spirits to perform a masque for Ferdinand and Miranda. The spirits assume the shapes of Ceres, Juno, and Iris and perform a short masque celebrating the rites of marriage and the bounty of the earth. A dance of reapers and nymphs follows but is interrupted when Prospero suddenly remembers that he still must stop the plot against his life.

He sends the spirits away and asks Ariel about Trinculo, Stephano, and Caliban. Ariel tells his master of the three men’s drunken plans. He also tells how he led the men with his music through prickly grass and briars and finally into a filthy pond near Prospero’s cell. Ariel and Prospero then set a trap by hanging beautiful clothing in Prospero’s cell. Stephano, Trinculo, and Caliban enter looking for Prospero and, finding the beautiful clothing, decide to steal it. They are immediately set upon by a pack of spirits in the shape of dogs and hounds, driven on by Prospero and Ariel.

Prospero uses Ariel to bring Alonso and the others before him. He then sends Ariel to bring the Boatswain and the mariners from where they sleep on the wrecked ship. Prospero confronts Alonso, Antonio, and Sebastian with their treachery, but tells them that he forgives them. Alonso tells him of having lost Ferdinand in the tempest and Prospero says that he recently lost his own daughter. Clarifying his meaning, he draws aside a curtain to reveal Ferdinand and Miranda playing chess. Alonso and his companions are amazed by the miracle of Ferdinand’s survival, and Miranda is stunned by the sight of people unlike any she has seen before. Ferdinand tells his father about his marriage.

Ariel returns with the Boatswain and mariners. The Boatswain tells a story of having been awakened from a sleep that had apparently lasted since the tempest. At Prospero’s bidding, Ariel releases Caliban, Trinculo and Stephano, who then enter wearing their stolen clothing. Prospero and Alonso command them to return it and to clean up Prospero’s cell. Prospero invites Alonso and the others to stay for the night so that he can tell them the tale of his life in the past twelve years. After this, the group plans to return to Italy. Prospero, restored to his dukedom, will retire to Milan. Prospero gives Ariel one final task—to make sure the seas are calm for the return voyage—before setting him free. Finally, Prospero delivers an epilogue to the audience, asking them to forgive him for his wrongdoing and set him free by applauding.

 

Act wise -Scene wise short summary:

Act & Scene	One-Line Summary
Act I, Scene i	A violent storm wrecks a ship carrying Alonso and his nobles, while chaos spreads among the passengers and crew.
Act I, Scene ii (Part 1)	Prospero reveals to Miranda how his brother Antonio usurped his dukedom and how they came to the island with Ariel’s help.
Act I, Scene ii (Part 2)	Caliban resents Prospero’s control, while Ferdinand and Miranda instantly fall in love under Prospero’s watchful plan.
Act II, Scene i	Antonio persuades Sebastian to plot against Alonso, but Ariel awakens the sleepers before the murder can occur.
Act II, Scene ii	Caliban meets the drunken Stephano and Trinculo and foolishly decides to serve them as new masters.
Act III, Scene i	Ferdinand and Miranda confess their love and agree to marry, delighting Prospero.
Act III, Scene ii	Caliban, Stephano, and Trinculo drunkenly scheme to kill Prospero and seize the island.
Act III, Scene iii	Ariel accuses Alonso, Antonio, and Sebastian of their past crimes through a magical banquet and terrifying vision.
Act IV, Scene i	Prospero celebrates Ferdinand and Miranda’s engagement with a masque before stopping Caliban’s conspiracy.
Act V, Scene i & Epilogue	Prospero forgives his enemies, restores order, frees Ariel, renounces magic, and asks the audience for applause and forgiveness.

 

Opening Lines (Act 1, Scene 1):

A tempestuous noise of thunder and lightning heard. Enter a Shipmaster and a Boatswain.

MASTER: Boatswain!

BOATSWAIN: Here, master. What cheer?

MASTER: Good, speak to th’ mariners. Fall to ’t yarely, or we run ourselves aground. Bestir, bestir!

 

Closing Lines (Epilogue):

And my ending is despair,

Unless I be relieved by prayer,

Which pierces so that it assaults

Mercy itself, and frees all faults.

As you from crimes would pardoned be,

Let your indulgence set me free. –(Prospero)

 

Act wise-Scene wise analysis

Summary: Act I, scene i

A violent storm rages around a small ship at sea. The master of the ship calls for his boatswain to rouse the mariners to action and prevent the ship from being run aground by the tempest. Chaos ensues. Some mariners enter, followed by a group of nobles comprised of Alonso, King of Naples, Sebastian, his brother, Antonio, Gonzalo, and others. We do not learn these men’s names in this scene, nor do we learn (as we finally do in Act II, scene i) that they have just come from Tunis, in Africa, where Alonso’s daughter, Claribel, has been married to the prince. As the Boatswain and his crew take in the topsail and the topmast, Alonso and his party are merely underfoot, and the Boatswain tells them to get below-decks. Gonzalo reminds the Boatswain that one of the passengers is of some importance, but the Boatswain is unmoved. He will do what he has to in order to save the ship, regardless of who is aboard.

The lords go belowdecks, and then, adding to the chaos of the scene, three of them—Sebastian, Antonio, and Gonzalo—enter again only four lines later. Sebastian and Antonio curse the Boatswain in his labors, masking their fear with profanity. Some mariners enter wet and crying, and only at this point does the audience learn the identity of the passengers on-board. Gonzalo orders the mariners to pray for the king and the prince. There is a strange noise—perhaps the sound of thunder, splitting wood, or roaring water—and the cry of mariners. Antonio, Sebastian, and Gonzalo, preparing to sink to a watery grave, go in search of the king.

Act I, scene ii (part 1)

Prospero and Miranda stand on the shore of the island, having just witnessed the shipwreck. Miranda entreats her father to see that no one on board comes to any harm. Prospero assures her that no one was harmed and tells her that it’s time she learned who she is and where she comes from. Miranda seems curious, noting that Prospero has often started to tell her about herself but always stopped. However, once Prospero begins telling his tale, he asks her three times if she is listening to him.

Prospero tells Miranda that he was once Duke of Milan and famous for his great intelligence. Prospero explains that he gradually grew uninterested in politics, however, and turned his attention more and more to his studies, neglecting his duties as duke. This gave his brother Antonio an opportunity to act on his ambition. Working in concert with the King of Naples, Antonio usurped Prospero of his dukedom. Antonio arranged for the King of Naples to pay him an annual tribute and do him homage as duke. Later, the King of Naples helped Antonio raise an army to march on Milan, driving Prospero out. Prospero tells how he and Miranda escaped from death at the hands of the army in a barely-seaworthy boat prepared for them by his loyal subjects. Gonzalo, an honest Neapolitan, provided them with food and clothing, as well as books from Prospero’s library. Having brought Miranda up to date on how she arrived at their current home, Prospero explains that sheer good luck has brought his former enemies to the island. Miranda suddenly grows very sleepy, perhaps because Prospero charms her with his magic.

When Miranda is asleep, Prospero calls forth his spirit, Ariel. In his conversation with Ariel, we learn that Prospero and the spirit were responsible for the storm of Act I, scene i. Flying about the ship, Ariel acted as the wind, the thunder, and the lightning. When everyone except the crew had abandoned the ship, Ariel made sure, as Prospero had requested, that all were brought safely to shore but dispersed around the island. Ariel reports that the king’s son is alone. He also tells Prospero that the mariners and Boatswain have been charmed to sleep in the ship, which has been brought safely to harbor. The rest of the fleet that was with the ship, believing it to have been destroyed by the storm, has headed safely back to Naples.

Prospero thanks Ariel for his service, and Ariel takes this moment to remind Prospero of his promise to take one year off of his agreed time of servitude if Ariel performs his services without complaint. Prospero does not take well to being reminded of his promises, and he chastises Ariel for his impudence. He reminds Ariel of where he came from and how Prospero rescued him. Ariel had been a servant of Sycorax, a witch banished from Algiers (Algeria) and sent to the island long ago. Ariel was too delicate a spirit to perform her horrible commands, so she imprisoned him in a “cloven pine” (I.ii.279). She did not free him before she died, and he might have remained imprisoned forever had not Prospero arrived and rescued him.

Reminding Ariel of his debt to him, Prospero threatens to imprison him for twelve years if he does not stop complaining. Ariel promises to be more polite. Prospero then gives him a new command: he must go make himself like a nymph of the sea and be invisible to all but Prospero. Ariel goes to do so, and Prospero, turning to Miranda’s sleeping form, calls upon his daughter to awaken. She opens her eyes and, not realizing that she has been enchanted, says that the “strangeness” of Prospero’s story caused her to fall asleep.

Act I, scene ii (part 2)

After Miranda is fully awake, Prospero suggests that they converse with their servant Caliban, the son of Sycorax. Caliban appears at Prospero’s call and begins cursing. Prospero promises to punish him by giving him cramps at night, and Caliban responds by chiding Prospero for imprisoning him on the island that once belonged to him alone. He reminds Prospero that he showed him around when he first arrived. Prospero accuses Caliban of being ungrateful for all that he has taught and given him. Prospero calls Caliban a “lying slave” and reminds him of the effort he made to educate him (I.ii.347). Caliban’s hereditary nature, he continues, makes him unfit to live among civilized people and earns him his isolation on the island. Caliban, though, cleverly notes that he knows how to curse only because Prospero and Miranda taught him to speak. Prospero then sends him away, telling him to fetch more firewood and threatening him with more cramps and aches if he refuses. Caliban obeys him.

Ariel, playing music and singing, enters and leads in Ferdinand. Prospero tells Miranda to look upon Ferdinand, and Miranda, who has seen no humans in her life other than Prospero and Caliban, immediately falls in love. Ferdinand is similarly smitten and reveals his identity as the prince of Naples. Prospero is pleased that they are so taken with each other but decides that the two must not fall in love too quickly, and so he accuses Ferdinand of merely pretending to be the prince of Naples. When he tells Ferdinand he is going to imprison him, Ferdinand draws his sword, but Prospero charms him so that he cannot move. Miranda attempts to persuade her father to have mercy, but he silences her harshly. This man, he tells her, is a mere Caliban compared to other men. He explains that she simply doesn’t know any better because she has never seen any others. Prospero leads the charmed and helpless Ferdinand to his imprisonment. Secretly, he thanks the invisible Ariel for his help, sends him on another mysterious errand, and promises to free him soon.

Act II, scene i

While Ferdinand is falling in love with Miranda, Alonso, Sebastian, Antonio, Gonzalo, and other shipwrecked lords search for him on another part of the island. Alonso is quite despondent and unreceptive to the good-natured Gonzalo’s attempts to cheer him up. Gonzalo meets resistance from Antonio and Sebastian as well. These two, childishly mock Gonzalo’s suggestion that the island is a good place to be and that they are all lucky to have survived. Alonso finally brings the repartee to a halt when he bursts out at Gonzalo and openly expresses regret at having married away his daughter in Tunis. Francisco, a minor lord, pipes up at this point that he saw Ferdinand swimming valiantly after the wreck, but this does not comfort Alonso. Sebastian and Antonio continue to provide little help. Sebastian tells his brother that he is indeed to blame for Ferdinand’s death—if he had not married his daughter to an African (rather than a European), none of this would have happened.

Gonzalo tells the lords that they are only making the situation worse and attempts to change the subject, discussing what he might do if he were the lord of the island. Antonio and Sebastian mock his utopian vision. Ariel then enters, playing “solemn music” (II.i.182, stage direction), and gradually all but Sebastian and Antonio fall asleep. Seeing the vulnerability of his sleeping companions, Antonio tries to persuade Sebastian to kill his brother. He rationalizes this scheme by explaining that Claribel, who is now Queen of Tunis, is too far from Naples to inherit the kingdom should her father die, and as a result, Sebastian would be the heir to the throne. Sebastian begins to warm to the idea, especially after Antonio tells him that usurping Prospero’s dukedom was the best move he ever made. Sebastian wonders aloud whether he will be afflicted by conscience, but Antonio dismisses this out of hand.

Sebastian is at last convinced, and the two men draw their swords. Sebastian, however, seems to have second thoughts at the last moment and stops. While he and Antonio confer, Ariel enters with music, singing in Gonzalo’s ear that a conspiracy is under way and that he should “Awake, awake!” (II.i.301). Gonzalo wakes and shouts “Preserve the King!” His exclamation wakes everyone else (II.i.303). Sebastian quickly concocts a story about hearing a loud noise that caused him and Antonio to draw their swords. Gonzalo is obviously suspicious but does not challenge the lords. The group continues its search for Ferdinand.

Act II, scene ii

Caliban enters with a load of wood, and thunder sounds in the background. Caliban curses and describes the torments that Prospero’s spirits subject him to: they pinch, bite, and prick him, especially when he curses. As he is thinking of these spirits, Caliban sees Trinculo and imagines him to be one of the spirits. Hoping to avoid pinching, he lies down and covers himself with his cloak. Trinculo hears the thunder and looks about for some cover from the storm. The only thing he sees is the cloak-covered Caliban on the ground. He is not so much repulsed by Caliban as curious. He cannot decide whether Caliban is a “man or a fish” (II.ii.24). He thinks of a time when he traveled to England and witnessed freak-shows there. Caliban, he thinks, would bring him a lot of money in England. Thunder sounds again and Trinculo decides that the best shelter in sight is beneath Caliban’s cloak, and so he joins the man-monster there.

Stephano enters singing and drinking. He hears Caliban cry out to Trinculo, “Do not torment me! O!” (II.ii.54). Hearing this and seeing the four legs sticking out from the cloak, Stephano thinks the two men are a four-legged monster with a fever. He decides to relieve this fever with a drink. Caliban continues to resist Trinculo, whom he still thinks is a spirit tormenting him. Trinculo recognizes Stephano’s voice and says so. Stephano, of course, assumes for a moment that the monster has two heads, and he promises to pour liquor in both mouths. Trinculo now calls out to Stephano, and Stephano pulls his friend out from under the cloak. While the two men discuss how they arrived safely on shore, Caliban enjoys the liquor and begs to worship Stephano. The men take full advantage of Caliban’s drunkenness, mocking him as a “most ridiculous monster” (II.ii.157) as he promises to lead them around and show them the isle.

Act III, scene i

Back at Prospero’s cell, Ferdinand takes over Caliban’s duties and carries wood for Prospero. Unlike Caliban, however, Ferdinand has no desire to curse. Instead, he enjoys his labors because they serve the woman he loves, Miranda. As Ferdinand works and thinks of Miranda, she enters, and after her, unseen by either lover, Prospero enters. Miranda tells Ferdinand to take a break from his work, or to let her work for him, thinking that her father is away. Ferdinand refuses to let her work for him but does rest from his work and asks Miranda her name. She tells him, and he is pleased: “Miranda” comes from the same Latin word that gives English the word “admiration.” Ferdinand’s speech plays on the etymology: “Admired Miranda! / Indeed the top of admiration, worth / What’s dearest to the world!” (III.i.37–39).

Ferdinand goes on to flatter his beloved. Miranda is, of course, modest, pointing out that she has no idea of any woman’s face but her own. She goes on to praise Ferdinand’s face, but then stops herself, remembering her father’s instructions that she should not speak to Ferdinand. Ferdinand assures Miranda that he is a prince and probably a king now, though he prays his father is not dead. Miranda seems unconcerned with Ferdinand’s title, and asks only if he loves her. Ferdinand replies enthusiastically that he does, and his response emboldens Miranda to propose marriage. Ferdinand accepts and the two leave each other. Prospero comes forth, subdued in his happiness, for he has known that this would happen. He then hastens to his book of magic in order to prepare for his remaining business.

Act III, scene ii

Caliban, Trinculo, and Stephano continue to drink and wander about the island. Stephano now refers to Caliban as “servant monster” and repeatedly orders him to drink. Caliban seems happy to obey. The men begin to quarrel, mostly in jest, in their drunkenness. Stephano has now assumed the title of Lord of the Island and he promises to hang Trinculo if Trinculo should mock his servant monster. Ariel, invisible, enters just as Caliban is telling the men that he is “subject to a tyrant, a sorcerer, that by his cunning hath cheated me of the island” (III.ii.40–41). Ariel begins to stir up trouble, calling out, “Thou liest” (III.ii.42). Caliban cannot see Ariel and thinks that Trinculo said this. He threatens Trinculo, and Stephano tells Trinculo not to interrupt Caliban anymore. Trinculo protests that he said nothing. Drunkenly, they continue talking, and Caliban tells them of his desire to get revenge against Prospero. Ariel continues to interrupt now and then with the words, “Thou liest.” Ariel’s ventriloquizing ultimately results in Stephano hitting Trinculo.

While Ariel looks on, Caliban plots against Prospero. The key, Caliban tells his friends, is to take Prospero’s magic books. Once they have done this, they can kill Prospero and take his daughter. Stephano will become king of the island and Miranda will be his queen. Trinculo tells Stephano that he thinks this plan is a good idea, and Stephano apologizes for the previous quarreling. Caliban assures them that Prospero will be asleep within half an hour.

Ariel plays a tune on his flute and tabor-drum. Stephano and Trinculo wonder at this noise, but Caliban tells them it is nothing to fear. Stephano relishes the thought of possessing this island kingdom “where I shall have my music for nothing” (III.ii.139–140). Then the men decide to follow the music and afterward to kill Prospero.

Act III, scene iii

Alonso, Sebastian, Antonio, Gonzalo, and their companion lords become exhausted, and Alonso gives up all hope of finding his son. Antonio, still hoping to kill Alonso, whispers to Sebastian that Alonso’s exhaustion and desperation will provide them with the perfect opportunity to kill the king later that evening.

At this point “solemn and strange music” fills the stage (III.iii.17, stage direction), and a procession of spirits in “several strange shapes” enters, bringing a banquet of food (III.iii.19, stage direction). The spirits dance about the table, invite the king and his party to eat, and then dance away. Prospero enters at this time as well, having rendered himself magically invisible to everyone but the audience. The men disagree at first about whether to eat, but Gonzalo persuades them it will be all right, noting that travelers are returning every day with stories of unbelievable but true events. This, he says, might be just such an event.

Just as the men are about to eat, however, a noise of thunder erupts, and Ariel enters in the shape of a harpy. He claps his wings upon the table and the banquet vanishes. Ariel mocks the men for attempting to draw their swords, which magically have been made to feel heavy. Calling himself an instrument of Fate and Destiny, he goes on to accuse Alonso, Sebastian, and Antonio of driving Prospero from Milan and leaving him and his child at the mercy of the sea. For this sin, he tells them, the powers of nature and the sea have exacted revenge on Alonso by taking Ferdinand. He vanishes, and the procession of spirits enters again and removes the banquet table. Prospero, still invisible, applauds the work of his spirit and announces with satisfaction that his enemies are now in his control. He leaves them in their distracted state and goes to visit with Ferdinand and his daughter.

Alonso, meanwhile, is quite desperate. He has heard the name of Prospero once more, and it has signaled the death of his own son. He runs to drown himself. Sebastian and Antonio, meanwhile, decide to pursue and fight with the spirits. Gonzalo, ever the voice of reason, tells the other, younger lords to run after Antonio, Sebastian, and Alonso and to make sure that none of the three does anything rash.

Act IV, scene i

Prospero gives his blessing to Ferdinand and Miranda, warning Ferdinand only that he take care not to break Miranda’s “virgin-knot” before the wedding has been solemnized (IV.i.15–17). Ferdinand promises to comply. Prospero then calls in Ariel and asks him to summon spirits to perform a masque for Ferdinand and Miranda. Soon, three spirits appear in the shapes of the mythological figures of Juno (queen of the gods), Iris (Juno’s messenger and the goddess of the rainbow), and Ceres (goddess of agriculture). This trio performs a masque celebrating the lovers’ engagement.

First, Iris enters and asks Ceres to appear at Juno’s wish, to celebrate “a contract of true love.” Ceres appears, and then Juno enters. Juno and Ceres together bless the couple, with Juno wishing them honor and riches, and Ceres wishing them natural prosperity and plenty. The spectacle awes Ferdinand and he says that he would like to live on the island forever, with Prospero as his father and Miranda as his wife. Juno and Ceres send Iris to fetch some nymphs and reapers to perform a country dance. Just as this dance begins, however, Prospero startles suddenly and then sends the spirits away. Prospero, who had forgotten about Caliban’s plot against him, suddenly remembers that the hour nearly has come for Caliban and the conspirators to make their attempt on his life.

Prospero’s apparent anger alarms Ferdinand and Miranda, but Prospero assures the young couple that his consternation is largely a result of his age; he says that a walk will soothe him. Prospero makes a short speech about the masque, saying that the world itself is as insubstantial as a play, and that human beings are “such stuff / As dreams are made on.” Ferdinand and Miranda leave Prospero to himself, and the old enchanter immediately summons Ariel, who seems to have made a mistake by not reminding Prospero of Caliban’s plot before the beginning of the masque. Prospero now asks Ariel to tell him again what the three conspirators are up to, and Ariel tells him of the men’s drunken scheme to steal Prospero’s book and kill him. Ariel reports that he used his music to lead these men through rough and prickly briars and then into a filthy pond. Prospero thanks his trusty spirit, and the two set a trap for the three would-be assassins.

On a clothesline in Prospero’s cell, Prospero and Ariel hang an array of fine apparel for the men to attempt to steal, after which they render themselves invisible. Caliban, Trinculo, and Stephano enter, wet from the filthy pond. The fine clothing immediately distracts Stephano and Trinculo. They want to steal it, despite the protests of Caliban, who wants to stick to the plan and kill Prospero. Stephano and Trinculo ignore him. Soon after they touch the clothing, there is “A noise of hunters” (IV.i.251, stage direction). A pack of spirits in the shape of hounds, set on by Ariel and Prospero, drives the thieves out.

Act V, scene i& Epilogue

Ariel tells Prospero that the day has reached its “sixth hour” (6 p.m.), when Ariel is allowed to stop working. Prospero acknowledges Ariel’s request and asks how the king and his followers are faring. Ariel tells him that they are currently imprisoned, as Prospero ordered, in a grove. Alonso, Antonio, and Sebastian are mad with fear; and Gonzalo, Ariel says, cries constantly. Prospero tells Ariel to go release the men, and now alone on stage, delivers his famous soliloquy in which he gives up magic. He says he will perform his last task and then break his staff and drown his magic book.

Ariel now enters with Alonso and his companions, who have been charmed and obediently stand in a circle. Prospero speaks to them in their charmed state, praising Gonzalo for his loyalty and chiding the others for their treachery. He then sends Ariel to his cell to fetch the clothes he once wore as Duke of Milan. Ariel goes and returns immediately to help his master to put on the garments. Prospero promises to grant freedom to his loyal helper-spirit and sends him to fetch the Boatswain and mariners from the wrecked ship. Ariel goes.

Prospero releases Alonso and his companions from their spell and speaks with them. He forgives Antonio but demands that Antonio return his dukedom. Antonio does not respond and does not, in fact, say a word for the remainder of the play except to note that Caliban is “no doubt marketable” (V.i.269). Alonso now tells Prospero of the missing Ferdinand. Prospero tells Alonso that he, too, has lost a child in this last tempest—his daughter. Alonso continues to be wracked with grief. Prospero then draws aside a curtain, revealing behind it Ferdinand and Miranda, who are playing a game of chess. Alonso is ecstatic at the discovery. Meanwhile, the sight of more humans impresses Miranda. Alonso embraces his son and daughter-in-law to be and begs Miranda’s forgiveness for the treacheries of twelve years ago. Prospero silences Alonso’s apologies, insisting that the reconciliation is complete.

After arriving with the Boatswain and mariners, Ariel is sent to fetch Caliban, Trinculo, and Stephano, which he speedily does. The three drunken thieves are sent to Prospero’s cell to return the clothing they stole and to clean it in preparation for the evening’s reveling. Prospero then invites Alonso and his company to stay the night. He will tell them the tale of his last twelve years, and in the morning, they can all set out for Naples, where Miranda and Ferdinand will be married. After the wedding, Prospero will return to Milan, where he plans to contemplate the end of his life. The last charge Prospero gives to Ariel before setting him free is to make sure the trip home is made on “calm seas” with “auspicious gales” (V.i.318).

 

The other characters exit and Prospero delivers the epilogue. He describes the loss of his magical powers (“Now my charms are all o’erthrown”) and says that, as he imprisoned Ariel and Caliban, the audience has now imprisoned him on the stage. He says that the audience can only release him by applauding, and asks them to remember that his only desire was to please them. He says that, as his listeners would like to have their own crimes forgiven, they should forgive him, and set him free by clapping.

 

Character List

Prospero

The play’s protagonist, and father of Miranda. Twelve years before the events of the play, Prospero was the duke of Milan. His brother, Antonio, in concert with Alonso, king of Naples, usurped him, forcing him to flee in a boat with his daughter. The honest lord Gonzalo aided Prospero in his escape. Prospero has spent his twelve years on the island refining the magic that gives him the power he needs to punish and forgive his enemies.

Prospero is one of Shakespeare’s more enigmatic protagonists. He is a sympathetic character in that he was wronged by his usurping brother, but his absolute power over the other characters and his overwrought speeches make him difficult to like. In our first glimpse of him, he appears puffed up and self-important, and his repeated insistence that Miranda pay attention suggest that his story is boring her. Once Prospero moves on to a subject other than his absorption in the pursuit of knowledge, Miranda’s attention is riveted.

The pursuit of knowledge gets Prospero into trouble in the first place. By neglecting everyday matters when he was duke, he gave his brother a chance to rise up against him. His possession and use of magical knowledge renders him extremely powerful and not entirely sympathetic. His punishments of Caliban are petty and vindictive, as he calls upon his spirits to pinch Caliban when he curses. He is defensively autocratic with Ariel. For example, when Ariel reminds his master of his promise to relieve him of his duties early if he performs them willingly, Prospero bursts into fury and threatens to return him to his former imprisonment and torment. He is similarly unpleasant in his treatment of Ferdinand, leading him to his daughter and then imprisoning and enslaving him.

Despite his shortcomings as a man, however, Prospero is central to The Tempest’s narrative. Prospero generates the plot of the play almost single-handedly, as his various schemes, spells, and manipulations all work as part of his grand design to achieve the play’s happy ending. Watching Prospero work through The Tempest is like watching a dramatist create a play, building a story from material at hand and developing his plot so that the resolution brings the world into line with his idea of goodness and justice. Many critics and readers of the play have interpreted Prospero as a surrogate for Shakespeare, enabling the audience to explore firsthand the ambiguities and ultimate wonder of the creative endeavor.

Prospero’s final speech, in which he likens himself to a playwright by asking the audience for applause, strengthens this reading of the play, and makes the play’s final scene function as a moving celebration of creativity, humanity, and art. Prospero emerges as a more likable and sympathetic figure in the final two acts of the play. In these acts, his love for Miranda, his forgiveness of his enemies, and the legitimately happy ending his scheme creates all work to mitigate some of the undesirable means he has used to achieve his happy ending. If Prospero sometimes seems autocratic, he ultimately manages to persuade the audience to share his understanding of the world—an achievement that is, after all, the final goal of every author and every play.

 

Miranda

The daughter of Prospero, Miranda was brought to the island at an early age and has never seen any men other than her father and Caliban, though she dimly remembers being cared for by female servants as an infant. Because she has been sealed off from the world for so long, Miranda’s perceptions of other people tend to be naïve and non-judgmental. She is compassionate, generous, and loyal to her father.

Just under fifteen years old, Miranda is a gentle and compassionate, but also relatively passive, heroine. From her very first lines she displays a meek and emotional nature. “O, I have suffered / With those that I saw suffer!” she says of the shipwreck (I.ii.5–6), and hearing Prospero’s tale of their narrow escape from Milan, she says “I, not rememb’ring how I cried out then, / Will cry it o’er again” (I.ii.133–134). Miranda does not choose her own husband. Instead, while she sleeps, Prospero sends Ariel to fetch Ferdinand, and arranges things so that the two will come to love one another. After Prospero has given the lovers his blessing, he and Ferdinand talk with surprising frankness about her virginity and the pleasures of the marriage bed while she stands quietly by. Prospero tells Ferdinand to be sure not to “break her virgin-knot” before the wedding night (IV.i.15), and Ferdinand replies with no small anticipation that lust shall never take away “the edge of that day’s celebration” (IV.i.29). In the play’s final scene, Miranda is presented, with Ferdinand, almost as a prop or piece of the scenery as Prospero draws aside a curtain to reveal the pair playing chess.

But while Miranda is passive in many ways, she has at least two moments of surprising forthrightness and strength that complicate the reader’s impressions of her as a naïve young girl. The first such moment is in Act I, scene ii, in which she and Prospero converse with Caliban. Prospero alludes to the fact that Caliban once tried to rape Miranda. When Caliban rudely agrees that he intended to violate her, Miranda responds with impressive vehemence, clearly appalled at Caliban’s light attitude toward his attempted rape. She goes on to scold him for being ungrateful for her attempts to educate him: “When thou didst not, savage, / Know thine own meaning, but wouldst gabble like / A thing most brutish, I endowed thy purposes / With words that made them known” (358–361). These lines are so surprising coming from the mouth of Miranda that many editors have amended the text and given it to Prospero. This reattribution seems to give Miranda too little credit. In Act III, scene i comes the second surprising moment—Miranda’s marriage proposal to Ferdinand: “I am your wife, if you will marry me; / If not, I’ll die your maid” (III.i.83–84). Her proposal comes shortly after Miranda has told herself to remember her “father’s precepts” (III.i.58) forbidding conversation with Ferdinand. As the reader can see in her speech to Caliban in Act I, scene ii, Miranda is willing to speak up for herself about her sexuality.

 

Ariel

Prospero’s spirit helper. Ariel is referred to throughout this play and in most criticism as “he,” but his gender and physical form are ambiguous. Rescued by Prospero from a long imprisonment at the hands of the witch Sycorax, Ariel is Prospero’s servant until Prospero decides to release him. He is mischievous and ubiquitous, able to traverse the length of the island in an instant and to change shapes at will. He carries out virtually every task that Prospero needs accomplished in the play.

Ariel is a spirit who works in Prospero’s service. Prospero first encountered Ariel soon after landing on the island. He found Ariel trapped in a cloven pine tree and freed the spirit from his prison. In return, Ariel promised to serve Prospero faithfully for a year, after which time Prospero would give Ariel back his freedom. We don’t know how long Ariel has already worked for Prospero when the play begins. Prospero has been on the island for twelve years, so Ariel might have been in his service for many more years than their agreement required. Then again, possibly Prospero freed Ariel from the tree only a year prior to the events of the play. Either way, Prospero’s unwillingness to set Ariel free stems from the fact that Ariel possesses immense power. As the spirit explains in his first lines in the play, not only does he have an impressive range of abilities, but he also commands a host of lesser spirits. Given Ariel’s extraordinary magical abilities, Prospero leans heavily on him to execute his complex revenge plot. Ariel has spent a lot of time around humans and he learned a thing or two about them. In Act V, for example, he appears to take pity on the castaways. He tells Prospero that if he were human his “affections” would be “tender,” convinces Prospero to stop using magic and reconcile with his enemies. Ariel effectively manipulates Prospero by appealing to his humanity, and in doing so he ushers himself closer to freedom.

 

Caliban

Another of Prospero’s servants. Caliban, the son of the now-deceased witch Sycorax, acquainted Prospero with the island when Prospero arrived. Caliban believes that the island rightfully belongs to him and has been stolen by Prospero. His speech and behavior is sometimes coarse and brutal, as in his drunken scenes with Stephano and Trinculo (II.ii, IV.i), and sometimes eloquent and sensitive, as in his rebukes of Prospero in Act I, scene ii, and in his description of the eerie beauty of the island in Act III, scene ii (III.ii.130-138).

Prospero’s dark, earthy slave, frequently referred to as a monster by the other characters, Caliban is the son of a witch-hag and the only real native of the island to appear in the play. He is an extremely complex figure, and he mirrors or parodies several other characters in the play. In his first speech to Prospero, Caliban insists that Prospero stole the island from him. Through this speech, Caliban suggests that his situation is much the same as Prospero’s, whose brother usurped his dukedom. On the other hand, Caliban’s desire for sovereignty of the island mirrors the lust for power that led Antonio to overthrow Prospero. Caliban’s conspiracy with Stephano and Trinculo to murder Prospero mirrors Antonio and Sebastian’s plot against Alonso, as well as Antonio and Alonso’s original conspiracy against Prospero.

Caliban both mirrors and contrasts with Prospero’s other servant, Ariel. While Ariel is “an airy spirit,” Caliban is of the earth, his speeches turning to “springs, brine pits” (I.ii.341), “bogs, fens, flats” (II.ii.2), or crabapples and pignuts (II.ii.159–160). While Ariel maintains his dignity and his freedom by serving Prospero willingly, Caliban achieves a different kind of dignity by refusing, if only sporadically, to bow before Prospero’s intimidation.

Surprisingly, Caliban also mirrors and contrasts with Ferdinand in certain ways. In Act II, scene ii Caliban enters “with a burden of wood,” and Ferdinand enters in Act III, scene i “bearing a log.” Both Caliban and Ferdinand profess an interest in untying Miranda’s “virgin knot.” Ferdinand plans to marry her, while Caliban has attempted to rape her. The glorified, romantic, almost ethereal love of Ferdinand for Miranda starkly contrasts with Caliban’s desire to impregnate Miranda and people the island with Calibans.

Finally, and most tragically, Caliban becomes a parody of himself. In his first speech to Prospero, he regretfully reminds the magician of how he showed him all the ins and outs of the island when Prospero first arrived. Only a few scenes later, however, we see Caliban drunk and fawning before a new magical being in his life: Stephano and his bottle of liquor. Soon, Caliban begs to show Stephano the island and even asks to lick his shoe. Caliban repeats the mistakes he claims to curse. In his final act of rebellion, he is once more entirely subdued by Prospero in the most petty way—he is dunked in a stinking bog and ordered to clean up Prospero’s cell in preparation for dinner.

Despite his savage demeanor and grotesque appearance, however, Caliban has a nobler, more sensitive side that the audience is only allowed to glimpse briefly, and which Prospero and Miranda do not acknowledge at all. His beautiful speeches about his island home provide some of the most affecting imagery in the play, reminding the audience that Caliban really did occupy the island before Prospero came, and that he may be right in thinking his enslavement to be monstrously unjust. Caliban’s swarthy appearance, his forced servitude, and his native status on the island have led many readers to interpret him as a symbol of the native cultures occupied and suppressed by European colonial societies, which are represented by the power of Prospero. Whether or not one accepts this allegory, Caliban remains one of the most intriguing and ambiguous minor characters in all of Shakespeare, a sensitive monster who allows himself to be transformed into a fool.

 

Ferdinand

Son and heir of Alonso. Ferdinand seems in some ways to be as pure and naïve as Miranda. He falls in love with her upon first sight and happily submits to servitude in order to win her father’s approval.

Ferdinand is a man straddling two worlds, and often at the mercy of higher powers. As the prince of Naples, he is not only linked to Alonso but also Antonio, the cause of Prospero’s suffering and ire. Separated from civilization, Ferdinand finds himself drawn inexplicably to the natural world of the island, as he immediately falls in love with Miranda. However, falling for her centers him directly in Prospero’s crosshairs. As Alonso’s heir and Miranda’s suitor, Ferdinand becomes yet another pawn in Prospero’s game of chess, manipulated and maneuvered to serve Prospero's agenda.

 

It is notable just how quickly Ferdinand’s focus on his own passengers falls by the wayside upon meeting Miranda. On the one hand, this could speak to the pure, unadulterated love that he feels for her, but it could also be seen as an indication of just how malleable he is under the right command, particularly as the magically influential Prospero accuses Ferdinand of falsifying his title and forces him to perform acts of labor.

 

Despite the numerous forces puppeteering their actions, the love and affection Ferdinand and Miranda feel for one another is seen as a victory. Still, the manner in which their relationship was formed evokes a sense of unease. Prospero reveals Ferdinand and Miranda playing chess at the end of the play with a showman-like flourish, and while the surrounding players are pleased that Ferdinand is alive and soon to be married, the pair does provide Prospero with the freedom he has schemed for. Though Ferdinand and Miranda have found love, they are still as much a part of Prospero’s machinations as the other players on the chessboard. What’s more, the game of chess may hint at future trouble. A chess game ends when the king is dead, which inevitably births the reign of the next king. Though the play’s ending is a happy one for Prospero, Ferdinand, and Miranda, the narrative of regicide looms large, and Miranda’s accusation that Ferdinand “[played] her false” rings ominous.

 

Alonso

King of Naples and father of Ferdinand. Alonso aided Antonio in unseating Prospero as Duke of Milan twelve years before. As he appears in the play, however, he is acutely aware of the consequences of all his actions. He blames his decision to marry his daughter to the Prince of Tunis on the apparent death of his son. In addition, after the magical banquet, he regrets his role in the usurping of Prospero.

Alonso is the King of Naples and the father of Ferdinand. He is actually the first of the principal cast to speak during the play, but the audience is given little to no information about him in the play’s opening scene, as The Tempest begins in media res, or in the middle of the action. The audience does not learn who Alonso is until the following scene, when Prospero delivers a lengthy monologue to Miranda outlining his fraught history with the men who have just been shipwrecked. He explains that Alonso aided Antonio in unseating Prospero as the Duke of Milan, which is why he and Miranda have been stranded on an island for the past twelve years.

Given Alonso’s treacherous past, it would be easy to assume that Alonso is the play’s antagonist. However, his character invokes more pity than contempt. Alonso is separated from his son during the shipwreck and spends the majority of the play mourning the child he assumes he has lost. He is practically debilitated from the guilt of believing he lives in his son’s place. He also blames himself for Ferdinand’s supposed death because the party was only traveling by sea to begin with because Alonso married his daughter off to the advantageous King of Tunis.

Alonso’s devotion to Ferdinand can be compared to Prospero’s devotion to Miranda. As a result, Alonso and Prospero can be interpreted as doubles, a common convention in the works of Shakespeare in which two characters mirror one another. Given their mutual love for their children (and their children’s impending marriage), it is no surprise that Prospero forgives Alonso after he expresses remorse and restores Prospero’s title.

 

Antonio

Prospero’s brother. Antonio quickly demonstrates that he is power-hungry and foolish. In Act II, scene i, he persuades Sebastian to kill the sleeping Alonso. He then goes along with Sebastian’s absurd story about fending off lions when Gonzalo wakes up and catches Antonio and Sebastian with their swords drawn.

Like many figures in Shakespeare’s plays, Antonio serves as a usurper who desires the title of a more powerful sibling. Often this archetype reflects not only a disruption to the status quo, but also the shifting tides of an evolving society, and a desire to implement change by reconstructing existing power structures from the ground up. Even when Antonio’s own circumstances change greatly upon being shipwrecked, he cannot help but scheme at every opportunity, with politics and power on the mind. His half-baked plan to coerce Sebastian into killing Alonsno is already predicated on a lie, and is only hastily covered up when their companions wake.

 

In the midst of Antonio’s pursuit of power, The Tempest draws a parallel between him and his brother Prospero. Both spend the entirety of the play concocting schemes and manipulating the other players with his own resources. Furthermore, their relationship parallels the relationship between the play’s other set of brothers. Not content with merely usurping his own kin, Antonio encourages Sebastian to do the same to his brother Alonso, the king of Naples. In the end, Antonio’s plot with Sebastian against Alonso doesn’t come to fruition, and Prospero demands the return of his dukedom. Though Prospero forgives him for the betrayal, Antonio is noticeably silent and indeed doesn’t speak again for the rest of the play, perhaps a sign that Antonio is not finished scheming.

 

Sebastian

Alonso’s brother. Like Antonio, he is both aggressive and cowardly. He is easily persuaded to kill his brother in Act II, scene i, and he initiates the ridiculous story about lions when Gonzalo catches him with his sword drawn.

Sebastian is Alonso’s brother and one of the men who is shipwrecked on Prospero’s island. He is callous and impressionable, and he plays henchman to Antonio’s villain. He is an instantly dislikable character from the moment we meet him. For example, he is cantankerous and unhelpful during the shipwreck in 1.1, and he shows a clear lack of empathy in 2.2 when he blames the grieving Alonso for Ferdinand’s alleged death.

As the play progresses, it becomes abundantly clear that Sebastian is as cowardly as he is unkind. Antonio is able to convince Sebastian to kill Alonso and claim his throne, but one gets the sense that Sebastian wouldn’t have acted without external assurance. He also concocts a ridiculous story about lions when he is caught above the sleeping Alonso with his sword drawn to keep himself out of trouble. 

Interestingly, Sebastian’s ambitions are left unresolved by the end of The Tempest. There is no reconciliation between Sebastian and his brother. In fact, there are only vague allusions on Prospero’s end about Antonio and Sebastian’s plot to kill Alonso and place Sebastian on the throne. This has caused many to question the stability of the text’s happy ending. After all, the play ends with Alonso heading back to Italy on a ship with his would-be-assassins.

 

Gonzalo

An old, honest lord, Gonzalo helped Prospero and Miranda to escape after Antonio usurped Prospero’s title. Gonzalo’s speeches provide an important commentary on the events of the play, as he remarks on the beauty of the island when the stranded party first lands, then on the desperation of Alonso after the magic banquet, and on the miracle of the reconciliation in Act V, scene i.

Gonzalo is among the men cast ashore during the tempest that opens the play. He serves as a counselor to Alonso, the King of Naples, though he once worked in Prospero’s service, back when he was Duke of Milan. In fact, Gonzalo helped Prospero and Miranda escape Milan. He filled their shabby boat with food, clothing, and prized books on the magic arts from Prospero’s library. The care he took to ensure Prospero and Miranda’s survival indicates an innate kindness and compassion that he continues to embody throughout the play. Gonzalo attempts to get other characters to act kindly toward one another. In Act II, for instance, Gonzalo chastises Sebastian for blaming the shipwreck on Alonso. “My lord Sebastian,” he says: “The truth you speak doth lack some gentleness / And time to speak it in. You rub the sore / When you should bring the plaster” (II.i.). With these lines, Gonzalo articulates his philosophy that kindness is always more productive harshness.

For all that Gonzalo represents a beacon of kindness, he’s also somewhat naïve. For instance, when he tries to cheer Alonso up at the top of Act II, his words only offer cold comfort: “Beseech you, sir, be merry. You have cause, / So have we all, of joy, for our escape / Is much beyond our loss” (II.i.). Alonso, who believes he’s just lost his son to the sea, doesn’t find Gonzalo’s cheerful words very consoling, despite their good intentions. Gonzalo’s naïveté also provides a source of amusement for Antonio and Sebastian, who talk circles around him and laugh at his expense. Yet Gonzalo may not be as naïve as these two cynics believe. He knows he’s an object of ridicule, but he remains steadfast in the face of their inconstancy. At one point, when Antonio tells him not to get upset on account of their jokes, Gonzalo responds maturely: “No, I warrant you, I will not adventure my discretion so weakly” (II.i.). Ultimately, with the reconciliation that concludes the play, Gonzalo’s kindness wins out over his companions’ cynicism.

 

Stephano & Trinculo

Stephano, a drunken butler, and Trinculo, a jester, are two minor members of the shipwrecked party. They provide a comic foil to the other, more powerful pairs of Prospero and Alonso and Antonio and Sebastian. Their drunken boasting and petty greed reflect and deflate the quarrels and power struggles of Prospero and the other noblemen.

Stephano and Trinculo consistently offer comic relief throughout the play. Their time on the island consists of a bumbling series of events, as the result of chaos and confusion and resulting in even more. A drunk Stephano, for example, stumbles upon Caliban and Trinculo and mistakes them for a monster, and it isn’t long before all three are cooking up a half-baked scheme to kill Prospero and supplant Stephano as king of the island. Not only does the plan fall apart before it can gain any traction, but it only leads to further captivity, confusion, and total disengagement from anything close to plausible.

 

Trinculo, during the episode in which Stephano takes him and Caliban to be a monster, only ends up hiding alongside him due to his own curiosity and unfazed lack of critical thinking. The persistent inebriation of all three characters adds an ongoing swerve of chaos to the calculated chessboard maneuvers orchestrated by Prospero. Stephano and Trinculo also provide social commentary of the civilized world. Their boorish behavior indicates that they believe they deserve to inherit the island just as Prospero did when he arrived years previously. Like Prospero, Stephano and Trinculo immediately position themselves as more important and worthy of power than Caliban, whom they see as a subject in their kingdom, illustrating the entitled and manipulative nature of “civilized” society.

 

By the play’s end, they are given no extreme punishment by Prospero, but are chastised and sent away. There does not seem to be any explicit growth from them, nor any major ripple effects from their influence. If anything, their drunken and manipulative exploits serve to humanize Caliban.

 

Boatswain

Appearing only in the first and last scenes, the Boatswain is vigorously good-natured. He seems competent and almost cheerful in the shipwreck scene, demanding practical help rather than weeping and praying. And he seems surprised but not stunned when he awakens from a long sleep at the end of the play.

 

Sycorax

Caliban’s mother and a powerful witch. She never appears in the text because she dies several years before the events of the play begin. She was one of the only native inhabitants on the island on which Prospero and Miranda are stranded.

 

Ceres

One of the spirits summoned by Prospero during the masque celebrating Miranda and Ferdinand’s impending marriage. Ceres is a goddess of agriculture and fertility, and her presence in the masque is a blessing for the young couple.

 

Iris

One of the spirits summoned by Prospero during the masque celebrating Miranda and Ferdinand’s impending marriage. She is the goddess of the rainbow and the messenger of the gods, which means she bridges the gap between the mortal world and the magical world.

 

Juno

One of the spirits summoned by Prospero during the masque celebrating Miranda and Ferdinand’s impending marriage. She is the queen of the gods and the goddess of marriage. Her blessing of Miranda and Ferdinand symbolizes the prosperous union between the two families.

 

Adrian

One of the lords who gets shipwrecked on Prospero’s island. He is a cheerful man who is loyal to his superiors and follows orders.

 

Francisco

One of the lords who gets shipwrecked on Prospero’s island. He comforts Alonso and tries to reassure him that Ferdinand, Alonso’s son, did not drown during the shipwreck.

 

Themes

Themes are the fundamental and often universal ideas explored in a literary work.

The Illusion of Justice

The Tempest tells a fairly straightforward story involving an unjust act, the usurpation of Prospero’s throne by his brother, and Prospero’s quest to re-establish justice by restoring himself to power. However, the idea of justice that the play works toward seems highly subjective, since this idea represents the view of one character who controls the fate of all the other characters. Though Prospero presents himself as a victim of injustice working to right the wrongs that have been done to him, Prospero’s idea of justice and injustice is somewhat hypocritical—though he is furious with his brother for taking his power, he has no qualms about enslaving Ariel and Caliban in order to achieve his ends. At many moments throughout the play, Prospero’s sense of justice seems extremely one-sided and mainly involves what is good for Prospero. Moreover, because the play offers no notion of higher order or justice to supersede Prospero’s interpretation of events, the play is morally ambiguous. As the play progresses, however, it becomes more and more involved with the idea of creativity and art, and Prospero’s role begins to mirror more explicitly the role of an author creating a story around him. With this metaphor in mind, and especially if we accept Prospero as a surrogate for Shakespeare himself, Prospero’s sense of justice begins to seem, if not perfect, at least sympathetic. Moreover, the means he uses to achieve his idea of justice mirror the machinations of the artist, who also seeks to enable others to see his view of the world. Playwrights arrange their stories in such a way that their own idea of justice is imposed upon events. In The Tempest, the author is in the play, and the fact that he establishes his idea of justice and creates a happy ending for all the characters becomes a cause for celebration, not criticism. By using magic and tricks that echo the special effects and spectacles of the theater, Prospero gradually persuades the other characters and the audience of the rightness of his case. As he does so, the ambiguities surrounding his methods slowly resolve themselves. Prospero forgives his enemies, releases his slaves, and relinquishes his magic power, so that, at the end of the play, he is only an old man whose work has been responsible for all the audience’s pleasure. The establishment of Prospero’s idea of justice becomes less a commentary on justice in life than on the nature of morality in art. Happy endings are possible, Shakespeare seems to say, because the creativity of artists can create them, even if the moral values that establish the happy ending originate from nowhere but the imagination of the artist.

 

The Difficulty of Distinguishing “Men” from “Monsters”

Upon seeing Ferdinand for the first time, Miranda says that he is “the third man that e’er I saw” (I.ii.449). The other two are, presumably, Prospero and Caliban. In their first conversation with Caliban, however, Miranda and Prospero say very little that shows they consider him to be human. Miranda reminds Caliban that before she taught him language, he gabbled “like / A thing most brutish” (I.ii.359–360) and Prospero says that he gave Caliban “human care” (I.ii.349), implying that this was something Caliban ultimately did not deserve. Caliban’s exact nature continues to be slightly ambiguous later. In Act IV, scene i, reminded of Caliban’s plot, Prospero refers to him as a “devil, a born devil, on whose nature / Nurture can never stick” (IV.i.188–189). Miranda and Prospero both have contradictory views of Caliban’s humanity. On the one hand, they think that their education of him has lifted him from his formerly brutish status. On the other hand, they seem to see him as inherently brutish. His devilish nature can never be overcome by nurture, according to Prospero. Miranda expresses a similar sentiment in Act I, scene ii: “thy vile race, / Though thou didst learn, had that in’t which good natures / Could not abide to be with” (I.ii.361–363). The inhuman part of Caliban drives out the human part, the “good nature,” that is imposed on him. Caliban claims that he was kind to Prospero, and that Prospero repaid that kindness by imprisoning him (see I.ii.347). In contrast, Prospero claims that he stopped being kind to Caliban once Caliban had tried to rape Miranda (I.ii.347–351). Which character the audience decides to believe depends on whether it views Caliban as inherently brutish, or as made brutish by oppression. The play leaves the matter ambiguous. Caliban balances all of his eloquent speeches, such as his curses in Act I, scene ii and his speech about the isle’s “noises” in Act III, scene ii, with the most degrading kind of drunken, servile behavior. But Trinculo’s speech upon first seeing Caliban (II.ii.18–38), the longest speech in the play, reproaches too harsh a view of Caliban and blurs the distinction between men and monsters. In England, which he visited once, Trinculo says, Caliban could be shown off for money: “There would this monster make a man. Any strange beast there makes a man. When they will not give a doit to relieve a lame beggar, they will lay out ten to see a dead Indian” (II.ii.28–31). What seems most monstrous in these sentences is not the “dead Indian,” or “any strange beast,” but the cruel voyeurism of those who capture and gape at them.

 

The Allure of Ruling a Colony

The nearly uninhabited island presents the sense of infinite possibility to almost everyone who lands there. Prospero has found it, in its isolation, an ideal place to school his daughter. Sycorax, Caliban’s mother, worked her magic there after she was exiled from Algeria. Caliban, once alone on the island, now Prospero’s slave, laments that he had been his own king (I.ii.344–345). As he attempts to comfort Alonso, Gonzalo imagines a utopian society on the island, over which he would rule (II.i.148–156). In Act III, scene ii, Caliban suggests that Stephano kill Prospero, and Stephano immediately envisions his own reign: “Monster, I will kill this man. His daughter and I will be King and Queen—save our graces!—and Trinculo and thyself shall be my viceroys” (III.ii.101–103). Stephano particularly looks forward to taking advantage of the spirits that make “noises” on the isle; they will provide music for his kingdom for free. All these characters envision the island as a space of freedom and unrealized potential. The tone of the play, however, toward the hopes of the would-be colonizers is vexed at best. Gonzalo’s utopian vision in Act II, scene i is undercut by a sharp retort from the usually foolish Sebastian and Antonio. When Gonzalo says that there would be no commerce or work or “sovereignty” in his society, Sebastian replies, “yet he would be king on’t,” and Antonio adds, “The latter end of his commonwealth forgets the beginning” (II.i.156–157). Gonzalo’s fantasy thus involves him ruling the island while seeming not to rule it, and in this he becomes a kind of parody of Prospero. While there are many representatives of the colonial impulse in the play, the colonized have only one representative: Caliban. We might develop sympathy for him at first, when Prospero seeks him out merely to abuse him, and when we see him tormented by spirits. However, this sympathy is made more difficult by his willingness to abase himself before Stephano in Act II, scene ii. Even as Caliban plots to kill one colonial master (Prospero) in Act III, scene ii, he sets up another (Stephano). The urge to rule and the urge to be ruled seem inextricably intertwined.

 

Prospero’s Threats

Prospero issues many threats in The Tempest, demonstrating his innate violence and cruelty. For the most part, Prospero directs his threats at his servants. Prospero’s threats typically contain elements of magic, as when he reprimands Caliban for his disobedience: “If thou neglect’st or dost unwillingly / What I command, I’ll rack thee with old cramps, / Fill all thy bones with aches, make thee roar” (I.ii.). Prospero also makes harsh threats against his more helpful servant, Ariel. Prospero has promised to liberate Ariel after a period of faithful service, and when Ariel reminds his master of this promise, Prospero warns: “If thou more murmur’st, I will rend an oak / And peg thee in his knotty entrails” (I.ii.). Curiously, the tree prison Prospero describes here echoes the tree prison the witch Sycorax had placed Ariel in prior to Prospero’s arrival. Thus, not only do Prospero’s threats indicate his cruel and domineering nature, but they also link him to other tyrannical figures.

 

Obedience and Disobedience

The themes of obedience and disobedience underscore the island’s hierarchy of power. Prospero stands at the top of this hierarchy. As both the former Duke of Milan and a gifted student of magic, Prospero is the most powerful figure on the island. He therefore demands obedience from all of his subjects, including his servants and his daughter. At some point, however, each of these subjects disobeys him. Caliban swears his allegiance to Stephano, trading one master for another in an attempt to topple the island’s hierarchy altogether. Other examples of disobedience in the play are more nuanced. Miranda, for instance, believes she disobeys her father by pursuing romance with Ferdinand. But her actions are actually in line with her father’s wishes, since Prospero’s harsh treatment of Ferdinand is designed to make Miranda take pity on him and fall in love with him. The situation is again different in Ariel’s case. Ariel has proven himself a faithful servant, yet Prospero considers him disobedient when he asks for his freedom. These complexities ultimately suggest that the island’s hierarchy of power is less stable than it appears.

 

Treason

Shakespeare weaves the theme of treason throughout The Tempest. The first instance of treason occurred in the play’s prehistory, when Antonio conspired with King Alonso to assassinate Prospero and succeed him as the new Duke of Milan. The attempt to kill Prospero was both political treason and brotherly betrayal. The theme of treason returns in the form of twin assassination plots that arise during the play. While Caliban and Stephano plot to kill Prospero and take control of the island, Antonio and Sebastian plot to kill Alonso and take control of Naples. Both of these plots get interrupted, so despite these men’s treasonous intentions, they ultimately do no real harm. Yet the interruption of these assassination plots does not fully dismantle the theme of treason. Perhaps indicating future strife, the play’s final scene features Miranda and Ferdinand playing chess—a game that can only be won with the metaphorical assassination of the opponent’s king. When Miranda accuses Ferdinand of cheating, she recalls how her uncle Antonio cheated his way into power twelve years prior. Does the future hold yet more instances of treason?

 

Wonder/Admiration

The themes of wonder and admiration center on Miranda, whose name means both “wonderful” and “admirable” in Latin. In a play so full of negative feelings about past wrongdoings, Miranda’s optimism about the future serves as a beacon of hope. Ferdinand senses Miranda’s admirable qualities upon first meeting her, exclaiming, “O you wonder!” (I.ii.). In a later scene he proclaims her superior virtues: “O you, / So perfect and so peerless, are created / Of every creature’s best!” (III.i.). Aside from Gonzalo, Miranda most clearly symbolizes optimism about the possibility of new beginnings and a better future: what she herself calls a “brave new world.” In spite of Miranda’s optimism, wonder sometimes carries a less positive connotation in The Tempest. Under Prospero’s command and Ariel’s magic, the island is itself a place of wonderful occurrences meant to confuse and disorient. At one point in Act V Prospero comments that Alonso and his company have had many wonderful visions, and that these visions prevent them from thinking clearly. In this sense, the island’s wonderful occurrences conceal truth for the purpose of manipulation.

 

Monstrosity

The theme of monstrosity constitutes the flip-side to the themes of wonder and admiration. Whereas wonder and admiration apply mainly to the beautiful and loving Miranda, monstrosity applies mainly to the ugly and hateful Caliban. The word “monster” appears most frequently in the scenes with Stephano and Trinculo. Upon first laying eyes on Caliban, Trinculo identifies him as a fishy-looking freak, and he imagines exploiting Caliban’s monstrous appearance for profit on the streets of a city: “holiday fools” would willingly part with “a piece of silver” to witness the sideshow attraction. Caliban’s monstrosity derives not from his appearance alone, but from the contrast between his savage appearance and his civilized language. At one point Trinculo expresses surprise that a creature like Caliban should use a term of respect like “Lord.” Although Caliban stands as the primary example of monstrosity in The Tempest, Alonso also uses the word “monstrous” to refer to illusory sounds and visions produced by Ariel.

 

Motifs

Motifs are recurring structures, contrasts, and literary devices that can help to develop and inform the text’s major themes.

Masters and Servants

Nearly every scene in the play either explicitly or implicitly portrays a relationship between a figure that possesses power and a figure that is subject to that power. The play explores the master-servant dynamic most harshly in cases in which the harmony of the relationship is threatened or disrupted, as by the rebellion of a servant or the ineptitude of a master. For instance, in the opening scene, the “servant” (the Boatswain) is dismissive and angry toward his “masters” (the noblemen), whose ineptitude threatens to lead to a shipwreck in the storm. From then on, master-servant relationships like these dominate the play: Prospero and Caliban; Prospero and Ariel; Alonso and his nobles; the nobles and Gonzalo; Stephano, Trinculo, and Caliban; and so forth. The play explores the psychological and social dynamics of power relationships from a number of contrasting angles, such as the generally positive relationship between Prospero and Ariel, the generally negative relationship between Prospero and Caliban, and the treachery in Alonso’s relationship to his nobles.

 

Water and Drowning

The play is awash with references to water. The Mariners enter “wet” in Act I, scene i, and Caliban, Stephano, and Trinculo enter “all wet,” after being led by Ariel into a swampy lake (IV.i.193). Miranda’s fear for the lives of the sailors in the “wild waters” (I.ii.2) causes her to weep. Alonso, believing his son dead because of his own actions against Prospero, decides in Act III, scene iii to drown himself. His language is echoed by Prospero in Act V, scene i when the magician promises that, once he has reconciled with his enemies, “deeper than did ever plummet sound / I’ll drown my book” (V.i.56–57). These are only a few of the references to water in the play. Occasionally, the references to water are used to compare characters. For example, the echo of Alonso’s desire to drown himself in Prospero’s promise to drown his book calls attention to the similarity of the sacrifices each man must make. Alonso must be willing to give up his life in order to become truly penitent and to be forgiven for his treachery against Prospero. Similarly, in order to rejoin the world he has been driven from, Prospero must be willing to give up his magic and his power. Perhaps the most important overall effect of this water motif is to heighten the symbolic importance of the tempest itself. It is as though the water from that storm runs through the language and action of the entire play—just as the tempest itself literally and crucially affects the lives and actions of all the characters.

 

Mysterious Noises

The isle is indeed, as Caliban says, “full of noises” (III.ii.130). The play begins with a “tempestuous noise of thunder and lightning” (I.i.1, stage direction), and the splitting of the ship is signaled in part by “a confused noise within” (I.i.54, stage direction). Much of the noise of the play is musical, and much of the music is Ariel’s. Ferdinand is led to Miranda by Ariel’s music. Ariel’s music also wakes Gonzalo just as Antonio and Sebastian are about to kill Alonso in Act II, scene i. Moreover, the magical banquet of Act III, scene iii is laid out to the tune of “Solemn and strange music” (III.iii.18, stage direction), and Juno and Ceres sing in the wedding masque (IV.i.106–117). The noises, sounds, and music of the play are made most significant by Caliban’s speech about the noises of the island at III.ii.130–138. Shakespeare shows Caliban in the thrall of magic, which the theater audience also experiences as the illusion of thunder, rain, invisibility. The action of The Tempest is very simple. What gives the play most of its hypnotic, magical atmosphere is the series of dreamlike events it stages, such as the tempest, the magical banquet, and the wedding masque. Accompanied by music, these present a feast for the eye and the ear and convince us of the magical glory of Prospero’s enchanted isle.

 

Symbols

Symbols are objects, characters, figures, or colors used to represent abstract ideas or concepts.

The Tempest

The tempest that begins the play, and which puts all of Prospero’s enemies at his disposal, symbolizes the suffering Prospero endured, and which he wants to inflict on others. All of those shipwrecked are put at the mercy of the sea, just as Prospero and his infant daughter were twelve years ago, when some loyal friends helped them out to sea in a ragged little boat (see I.ii.144–151). Prospero must make his enemies suffer as he has suffered so that they will learn from their suffering, as he has from his. The tempest is also a symbol of Prospero’s magic, and of the frightening, potentially malevolent side of his power.

 

The Game of Chess

The object of chess is to capture the king. That, at the simplest level, is the symbolic significance of Prospero revealing Ferdinand and Miranda playing chess in the final scene. Prospero has caught the king—Alonso—and reprimanded him for his treachery. In doing so, Prospero has married Alonso’s son to his own daughter without the king’s knowledge, a deft political maneuver that assures Alonso’s support because Alonso will have no interest in upsetting a dukedom to which his own son is heir. This is the final move in Prospero’s plot, which began with the tempest. He has maneuvered the different passengers of Alonso’s ship around the island with the skill of a great chess player. Caught up in their game, Miranda and Ferdinand also symbolize something ominous about Prospero’s power. They do not even notice the others staring at them for a few lines. “Sweet lord, you play me false,” Miranda says, and Ferdinand assures her that he “would not for the world” do so (V.i.174–176). The theatrical tableau is almost too perfect: Ferdinand and Miranda, suddenly and unexpectedly revealed behind a curtain, playing chess and talking gently of love and faith, seem entirely removed from the world around them. Though he has promised to relinquish his magic, Prospero still seems to see his daughter as a mere pawn in his game.

 

Prospero’s Books

Like the tempest, Prospero’s books are a symbol of his power. “Remember / First to possess his books,” Caliban says to Stephano and Trinculo, “for without them / He’s but a sot” (III.ii.86–88). The books are also, however, a symbol of Prospero’s dangerous desire to withdraw entirely from the world. It was his devotion to study that put him at the mercy of his ambitious brother, and it is this same devotion to study that has made him content to raise Miranda in isolation. Yet, Miranda’s isolation has made her ignorant of where she came from (see I.ii.33–36), and Prospero’s own isolation provides him with little company. In order to return to the world where his knowledge means something more than power, Prospero must let go of his magic.

 

The masque

The masque in The Tempest is not an actual masque; rather, it is a dramatisation of a masque, while serving the narrative of the drama that contains it. It is an example of Prospero's magic art: a performance in which Ariel and his fellows play the roles. In it, the goddesses Iris, Ceres and Juno celebrate the betrothal of Miranda and Ferdinand.

 

Revenge and forgiveness

The tone of Prospero's speech towards his three enemies Antonio, Alonso and Sebastian throughout the play is of rage and vengeance. However, in the final act, Prospero tells Ariel "They being penitent, the sole drift of my purpose doth extend not a frown further."

Prospero freely forgives Alonso. But in his final speeches towards Antonio, Prospero's attitude vascillates: "You, brother mine, that entertained ambition ... I do forgive thee" but then immediately reverses himself: "Unnatural though thou art!"and reconsiders upon remembering the conspiracy to kill Alonso: "At this time I will tell no tales" then almost reverses himself with: "Most wicked sir, whom to call brother would even infect my mouth" and only then confirms his forgiveness, while giving Antonio no opportunity to repent: "I do forgive thy rankest fault - all of them; and require my dukedom of thee, which perforce I know thou must restore."

 

Chastity

An important aspect of Prospero's project is to secure his dynasty by marrying his daughter, Miranda, to the heir of Naples, Ferdinand, for whom she is only a suitable bride if she is a virgin. Chastity had also become embodied as a royal virtue through the reign of Elizabeth, the "Virgin Queen"

 

Magic

Prospero has been described as practicing "theurgy", white magic, known in Shakespeare's time from neo-Platonic writers, and contrasted with "goety", black magic. Related to Prospero's magic is the contrast between him and the unseen character Sycorax, Caliban's mother, an Algerian witch who inhabited the island and died prior to Prospero and Miranda's arrival.

 

Protagonist

A protagonist is the central character in a narrative, the one who drives the plot forward and around whom the main conflicts revolve.

 

Although The Tempest features many characters with their own plots and desires, Prospero is the main protagonist. Prospero sets the events of the play in motion by conjuring the terrible tempest that shipwrecks his enemies. The violence of the tempest indicates the magnitude of Prospero’s rage. After setting things in motion with the tempest, Prospero goes on to orchestrate all of the characters’ movements throughout the rest of the play. He starts by instructing his servant Ariel to place the castaways on three different parts of the island. Also with Ariel’s help, Prospero disorients the different groups of men, making them feel lost and helpless. He keeps up his manipulations of the island’s new inhabitants until the final act of the play, when he leads them all to the same place for the final scene of confrontation and reconciliation. The control he exerts over all other characters makes Prospero something even more than the play’s protagonist; he’s also a master manipulator, much like a puppeteer.

 

Prospero’s desire for revenge drives his manipulation of others. He manipulates the stranded characters in numerous ways. In separating the castaways Prospero makes each group believe the others have perished. This mistaken belief makes several plot points possible. Ferdinand, who believes he alone survived, is ready to pledge himself to Prospero and fall in love with Miranda. Alonso, who believes his son has died, loses all hope, which inspires Antonio and Sebastian to plot his assassination. Prospero also subtly manipulates Miranda into falling in love with Ferdinand as a part of his grand plan to resolve his conflict with Alonso. He hopes the union of their children will help heal the wound between them. What Prospero wants more than anything else is reconciliation. And reconciliation is precisely what he gets in the final act. With peaceful relations restored with Alonso and his men, Prospero gives up on magic and prepares for his return to power in Milan. The play, which begins with a violent tempest and concludes with calm celebration, parallels the trajectory of Prospero’s character arc. Whereas he starts off seething with rage and vengefulness, he eventually calms down and sets the stage for emotional appeasement.

 

Antagonist

An antagonist is a character or force that works against the objectives of the protagonist, or the central character of a story.

 

The Tempest has a large cast of antagonists, all of whom pose challenges for the play’s protagonist, Prospero. The most important antagonists are Alonso and Antonio, who conspired to assassinate Prospero when he was Duke of Milan, and who are responsible for his exile on the island. Although Alonso wronged Prospero in the past, his actions during the play are not particularly antagonizing. Instead, he spends most of the play mourning the death of his son. Antonio’s case proves a bit more complicated, since in Act II he conspires with Sebastian to assassinate Alonso, echoing his betrayal of Prospero twelve years prior. Prospero confronts both men in Act V, and Alonso immediately confesses his guilt and expresses his shame. Antonio, by contrast, doesn’t have any lines in the final act. Prospero ultimately forgives Antonio, and closes the matter by demanding his dukedom back.

The Tempest also features an array of lesser antagonists. Caliban sees Prospero as a violent imperialist who unjustly took control of the island, which had previously belonged to him and his mother, Sycorax. Caliban acts most insubordinate when he befriends two lesser antagonists, the drunkards Stephano and Trinculo, with whom he plots the murder and overthrow of Prospero. Of course, Caliban and his associates don’t stand a chance against Prospero’s magic, and their plot fails spectacularly. At the end of the play, Caliban remains fundamentally unchanged as a character—still as hateful toward Prospero as ever. Compared to Caliban, Prospero’s other servant, Ariel, seems like an angel. Yet Ariel also incites Prospero’s wrath when he reminds his master of his promise to free Ariel after a year of faithful service. Although Ariel’s character doesn’t change much in the play, he does gain his freedom in the end.

 

Setting

Setting refers to the time and place of the action in a narrative work.

The majority of the action in The Tempest takes place on a small, remote island. The island provides a convenient container for the action of the play, a confined space where Prospero can easily observe and influence the actions of his enemies. The island’s isolation allows Shakespeare to concentrate the storytelling and abide by the classical “unities” of drama first set forth by the Greek philosopher Aristotle. The two unities most relevant to this play include the unity of action, which says a play should take place in a single geographical location, and the unity of time, which says the action of a play should span no more that 24 hours. Aside from the play’s first scene, which takes place on a ship, the action of The Tempest remains restricted to the island, and it covers about as much time as it takes to perform the play. The setting therefore helps give the play a more classical form than Shakespeare’s other romances.

In addition to confining the action of the play, the island is also a site of magic and illusion. With the magician Prospero in charge of Ariel and his fellow spirits, strange things happen on the island constantly, and these things tend to inspire confusion, sadness, and horror more often than amazement. In Act I, scene ii, Ariel conceals himself as he sings a song to Ferdinand. At first Ferdinand feels confused about where the song is coming from, but his confusion turns to sadness as he registers that the song concerns the death of his father, Alonso, in the tempest. Another disorienting vision appears in Act III, scene iii, when spirits create the illusion of a splendid banquet for Alonso and his company. But the enticing vision quickly turns horrifying when Ariel appears in the form of a harpy to chastise the men. Ultimately, the illusions that populate the island serve to confuse and manipulate. Although they do no physical harm, they break individuals down psychologically.

Despite the importance of the play’s island setting, the precise location of the island remains a mystery. The unknown location of The Tempest has long been a source of debate among Shakespeare scholars. One theory posits that the island is located somewhere in the Caribbean. Scholars in this camp see The Tempest as a “New World” play, linked to the colonization of the Americas that was taking place at the time Shakespeare wrote the play. Another theory posits that the island would more likely be located in the Mediterranean, probably off the coast of Tunis. Scholars in this camp see The Tempest as an “Old World” play, linked to the shifting politics and maritime powers of the Mediterranean, which in Shakespeare’s time remained a region charged with tension between Christianity and Islam. British scholar Gordon McMullan proposes a compromise between these two theories, suggesting that The Tempest is geographically hybrid, “[set] in the Mediterranean and in the Caribbean and yet in neither, exactly.”

 

 

Genre

A genre is a category of creative work that follows a shared set of conventions, themes, or styles.

 

Comedy

When the First Folio edition of Shakespeare’s plays was published in 1623, The Tempest appeared under the genre category “comedy.” Like all of Shakespeare’s other comedies, the play resolves happily, with the promise of a wedding between Miranda and Ferdinand. Also as in other comedies, the plot of The Tempest revolves around a series of misunderstandings that are resolved over the course of the play. The tempest, or storm, that gives the play its title causes a shipwreck, stranding many characters on an island. Several of the characters mistakenly believe their shipmates are dead. However, none of the characters actually die in the storm, and everyone is happily reunited at the play’s end. The Tempest also features not one but two attempted assassinations: Alonso and Antonio’s attempted assassination of Prospero, which lead to Prospero fleeing to the island, and Antonio and Sebastian’s plot to murder Alonso. But, again, neither attempt is successful, and no one dies. The play ends with Alonso repenting of his schemes against Prospero, and Prospero reclaiming his title of Duke of Milan. The fact that no one dies in the play, discord is repaired, misunderstandings are resolved, and lovers and united in marriage all contribute to the play’s classification as a comedy.

 

Tragicomedy

Although the plot contains similarities to Shakespeare's early comedies, its darker tone has led some twentieth-century critics including Joan Hartwig to label it a tragicomedy in the same tradition as contemporary mixed-mode plays such as the collaborations between Beaumont and Fletcher.E. M. W. Tillyard argued that the classic principles of tragedy were divided between two of Shakespeare's late plays: destruction being explored more fully in The Winter's Tale, and regeneration more fully in The Tempest.

 

Romance

Although The Tempest contains many elements of comedy, it also deviates significantly from Shakespeare’s other comedies, which is why scholars now classify it as a romance. Romance is a genre scholars began assigning to a group of plays Shakespeare wrote at the end of his career. These plays, while categorized in the First Folio as either comedies or tragedies, don’t neatly fit the conventions of either genre. Along with Shakespeare’s other late plays Pericles, Cymbeline, and The Winter’s Tale, The Tempest contains elements of both tragedy and comedy, with the overall structure of the play moving from “tragic” beginning to “comedic” ending. These four plays also all contain elements of magic and the supernatural. For example, the massive storm that opens Tempest is the result of Prospero’s conjuring. Throughout the play, Prospero (and his magical spirit Ariel) use magic to manipulate and dazzle the other characters. Finally, The Tempest differs from the comedic genre in that while the play ends in marriage, the story of the lovers doesn’t drive the plot. In fact, Miranda and Ferdinand don’t meet until well into the action of the play, and the essential conflict—Prospero’s desire to regain his title—has nothing to do with their separation or reunion. All of Shakespeare’s romances also feature marriage as an element of their plots, but not the driving force of the action.

 

Style

Style refers to all the ways that an author chooses to convey their meaning, including their syntax, word choices, use of literary devices, and tone.

 

Shakespeare wrote much of The Tempest in a dense, poetic language whose complexity and solemnity reflects the noble status of the majority of its characters. Prospero in particular tends to speak in long, compound sentences. Take, for instance, this sentence in which Prospero describes how Antonio usurped his position as Duke of Milan:

He [Antonio] being thus lorded,

Not only with what my revenue yielded

But what my power might else exact, like one

Who, having into truth by telling of it,

Made such a sinner of his memory

To credit his own lie, he did believe

He was indeed the duke, out o’ th’ substitution

And executing th’ outward face of royalty,

With all prerogative. (1.2.)

This sentence has a complex structure that features dependent clauses stuck inside other dependent clauses. The fact that units of thought repeatedly cross line breaks makes it even more challenging to follow Prospero’s meaning. The difficulty of this sentence also derives from Prospero’s use of poetic elision (i.e., omission). Prospero’s poetic elision is visible in his frequent omission of unstressed syllables (e.g., “out o’ th’ substitution”). The overall complexity of Prospero’s language serves to emphasize the greatness of his learning, and the solemnity of his poetry conveys the seriousness of his character.

 

Whereas Prospero and other characters of noble status speak in language that is solemn and grammatically dense, the language of the play’s less well-born characters often proves more playful. Take, for example, Trinculo and Stephano, who become increasingly drunk over the course of the play and frequently exchange jokes and witty one-liners. This kind of clever back-and-forth appears in Act 3, Scene 2, where Trinculo and Stephano jest about whether the “man-monster” Caliban will serve as their lieutenant or their standard bearer. This joke about Caliban quickly descends into a game of puns. Trinculo informs Stephano that Caliban will have to be his lieutenant because, as he puts it, “He’s no standard” (3.2.). Caliban can’t be a standard bearer because, being drunk, he can’t even stand up! Verbal playfulness is not limited only to the less nobly born characters. Antonio and Sebastian exhibit a similar dynamic in Act 2, Scene 1, where they make fun of Gonzalo behind his back.

 

Prose vs. Verse

The stylistic divide between the high- and low-born characters in The Tempest often plays out through differences in verse and prose. Shakespeare wrote the majority of the play in his characteristic blank verse—that is, unrhymed iambic pentameter. Generally speaking, the noble characters (especially Prospero, Miranda, Alonso, and Ferdinand) speak primarily in verse, whereas the less well-bred characters (especially Trinculo and Stephano) speak primarily in prose. Caliban represents an important and interesting exception. Although frequently deemed a lowly “monster,” Caliban received an education from Prospero and Miranda. Not only does this education afford him the ability to “curse,” as Caliban declares in Act 1, Scene 2, but it also enables him to curse eloquently. Thus, most of his speech is verse, excepting the scenes where he gets drunk with Trinculo and Stephano. Another exception to the general rule occurs when solemn situations call for verse. In such situations, even lowborn characters relinquish prose, just as the Boatswain does when reunited with his crew at the play’s end.

 

The classical unities

Like The Comedy of Errors, The Tempest roughly adheres to the unities of time, place, and action. Shakespeare's other plays rarely respected the three unities, taking place in separate locations miles apart and over several days or even years. Of Shakespeare's other late romances, for example, The Winter's Tale contains a gap of sixteen years, and Cymbeline's action veers between Britain and Italy. In contrast, The Tempest's events unfold in real time before the audience, taking around three hours. All action is unified into one basic plot: Prospero's struggle to regain his dukedom; it is also confined to one place, a fictional island.

 

Postcolonial interpretation

The Tempest is one of the plays (alongside The Merchant of Venice and Othello) most analysed from a postcolonial perspective, and indeed is considered to be the work upon which postcolonial studies first took root. The play has become, in the words of Peter Hulme, "emblematic of the founding years of England's colonialism". From a postcolonial perspective, Prospero is seen as having imported to the island the social and moral structures of Milan (meaning, for early audiences, of London) by seizing rule, and making slaves of its inhabitants Caliban and Ariel. (refer the strange king theory)

 

Point of View

A story’s point of view is the perspective from which events are reported to the reader.

 

Shakespeare primarily frames the action of The Tempest through Prospero’s point of view, which makes sense since Prospero’s motivations drive the plot. Prospero’s backstory sets the stage for the play, and his magic and cunning set the play’s events into motion. Shakespeare gives the sorcerer many opportunities to speak, often at length. In Prospero’s first scene, he delivers speeches in which he recounts the story of his exile from Milan, praises his daughter, threatens Ariel, and insults Caliban. Throughout the rest of the play, Prospero commands spirits and manipulates others. Although he may only spend a small amount of time onstage in acts 2 and 3, his actions and motivations continue to guide the plot, anchoring the story to his perspective. In the final act Prospero returns to the spotlight and delivers his longest speeches yet. This return to center stage reminds the audience that despite the many scenes not involving him, Prospero has orchestrated these events with the sole aim of securing a happy ending for his own story.

Even though Shakespeare tends to privilege Prospero’s perspective, he does not necessarily bias the audience toward the sorcerer’s view of things. Shakespeare also gives voice to characters who reject Prospero’s domineering nature and the fact that he has taken over the island. Early in the play Ariel expresses dissatisfaction about having to wait for Prospero to grant him freedom, while Caliban speaks and acts directly against his master. When Caliban enters for the first time, he immediately curses Prospero. He then delivers a speech in which he recounts and condemns Prospero’s villainy. In later scenes, Caliban takes his resistance further, conspiring with Stephano and Trinculo to assassinate Prospero and reclaim the island. By showcasing Caliban’s point of view in this way, Shakespeare complicates Prospero’s perspective. If Prospero’s motivations derive from having been deposed and stripped of his power, then is it not hypocritical of him to have done the same thing to Caliban and the other island inhabitants?

 

Whereas Acts 1 and 5 center on Prospero, the events in Acts 2 through 4 alternate between the perspectives of various groups of individuals on separate parts of the island. This shifting point of view indicates the differences between the various groups. Alonso and his retinue all belong to the ruling class, and much of what this group focuses on has to do with matters of a court that is far away. By contrast, Stephano and Trinculo serve the ruling class, and their scenes of drunken jocularity could not be further from the solemnity of the perspective offered by either Prospero or Alonso and company. The shifts in point of view also create a sense of dramatic irony, where the audience understands things the character don’t. Although many characters believe other characters have perished in the tempest, the audience knows that this is not the case. This form of dramatic irony indicates to the audience that the play’s events likely lead toward a peaceful resolution rather than toward tragedy.

 

Tone

Tone is the attitude of a writer, narrator, or speaker toward the subject matter.

 

Over the course of the play, the tone of The Tempest shifts from threatening to hopeful. The tempest, or storm, that opens the play plunges the audience into chaos. By the end of the play, however, the tone enters a more hopeful register as the characters resolve their conflicts and look to the future. Between these two points, the tone shifts constantly and uneasily. In one scene, Alonso speaks solemnly as he mourns his son’s death, but in the next scene, Trinculo and Stephano are by turns jocular and conspiratorial. The tonal fluctuation from scene to scene reflects the chaos and confusion that Prospero has orchestrated. Newcomers to the island see the island as a “strange” landscape full of mysterious sounds and enigmatic spirits. Audiences, similarly, may wonder how to make sense of the action they see, whether to laugh or cry. By the play’s end, Miranda’s sense of wonder at and hope for the “brave new world” (V.i.) that has opened for her suggests that the proper response to all that has come before is appreciative awe.

Just as the overall tone of the The Tempest shifts as the play progresses, the tone of individual characters also evolves over the course of the play. Prospero initially comes across as overbearing and is quick to issue threats to anyone who disobeys him. Despite his domineering nature, however, Prospero’s ultimate desire is not to rule the island like a despot. Instead, he wants to be a duke again and to rule Milan justly and humanely. In this sense, Prospero’s overbearing tone conceals a deeper seed of hope—a hope that he also expresses by orchestrating Miranda and Ferdinand’s marriage. This concealed sense of hope connects Prospero to the optimism Miranda proclaims in the play’s final scene. To make matters more complicated, however, the hopeful tone that resonates at play’s end may itself conceal a deeper ambivalence. When Miranda calls Ferdinand out for cheating in their game of chess, her accusation may not bode well for the future. On the one hand, it may indicate that their marriage will not end as happily as Prospero intends. On the other hand, since chess is an allegory for regicide (i.e., assassination of a king), Ferdinand’s cheating may suggest a future political betrayal.

 

Foreshadowing

Foreshadowing is a detail that hints at events that will occur later, often to create suspense, expectation, or a sense of inevitability about the characters and their journey.

 

In The Tempest, foreshadowing creates a sense of inevitability about the events that happen over the course of the play. Because the play opens with Prospero explaining to Miranda the events that brought them to the island, and contriving to bring all the significant characters together again, we get the sense that Prospero and Miranda’s situation will soon be altered. Throughout, we get hints about Prospero’s decision to give up magic in order to be restored as Duke of Milan. Other events and situations are foreshadowed as well, including the way the social structure on the island upturns social conventions.

 

Prospero renounces magic

Even though Prospero required the use of magic to manipulate the other characters in the play and restore his reputation, in order for him to resume his position as the rightful Duke of Milan, he must renounce magic. For one thing, Prospero’s relentless pursuit of magic is what cost him his dukedom in the first place. He indicates as much when he explains to Miranda how he had retreated into his studies instead of attending to his political responsibilities: “Those [the liberal arts] being all my study, / The government I cast upon my brother / And to my state grew stranger, being transported / And rapt in secret studies” (I.ii.). This quote sets up the choice Prospero must ultimately make: “government” (his title as Duke) versus “secret studies” (magic.) In order to relinquish his hold on the island and return to his duties as the Duke of Milan, Prospero must, as he says in the play’s final scene, “drown my book” (V.i.).

 

The social order on the island

In the play’s opening scene, the Boatswain shows little respect for his most important passenger, the king. While the king would normally be able to command the Boatswain, here the Boatswain ignores him, saying “what cares these roarers for the name of king,” (I.i.) and implying that he cares about his own safety more than anyone else onboard. This suggests that the rules of society are suspended at sea. The reversal of the social order foreshadows the upheavals in social hierarchies that will take place on the island.

 

Famous Quotes

You taught me language, and my profit on’t

Is I know how to curse. The red plague rid you

For learning me your language! (I.ii.366–368)

This speech, delivered by Caliban to Prospero and Miranda, makes clear in a very concise form the vexed relationship between the colonized and the colonizer that lies at the heart of this play. The son of a witch, perhaps half-man and half-monster, his name a near-anagram of “cannibal,” Caliban is an archetypal “savage” figure in a play that is much concerned with colonization and the controlling of wild environments. Caliban and Prospero have different narratives to explain their current relationship. Caliban sees Prospero as purely oppressive while Prospero claims that he has cared for and educated Caliban, or did until Caliban tried to rape Miranda. Prospero’s narrative is one in which Caliban remains ungrateful for the help and civilization he has received from the Milanese Duke. Language, for Prospero and Miranda, is a means to knowing oneself, and Caliban has in their view shown nothing but scorn for this precious gift. Self-knowledge for Caliban, however, is not empowering. It is only a constant reminder of how he is different from Miranda and Prospero and how they have changed him from what he was. Caliban’s only hope for an identity separate from those who have invaded his home is to use what they have given him against them.

 

There be some sports are painful, and their labour

Delight in them sets off. Some kinds of baseness

Are nobly undergone, and most poor matters

Point to rich ends. This my mean task

Would be as heavy to me as odious, but

The mistress which I serve quickens what’s dead

And makes my labours pleasures. (III.i.1-7)

Ferdinand speaks these words to Miranda, as he expresses his willingness to perform the task Prospero has set him to, for her sake. The Tempest is very much about compromise and balance. Prospero must spend twelve years on an island in order to regain his dukedom; Alonso must seem to lose his son in order to be forgiven for his treachery; Ariel must serve Prospero in order to be set free; and Ferdinand must suffer Prospero’s feigned wrath in order to reap true joy from his love for Miranda. This latter compromise is the subject of this passage from Act III, scene i, and we see the desire for balance expressed in the structure of Ferdinand’s speech. This desire is built upon a series of antitheses—related but opposing ideas: “sports . . . painful” is followed by “labour . . . delights”; “baseness” can be undergone “nobly”; “poor matters” lead to “rich ends”; Miranda “quickens” (makes alive) what is “dead” in Ferdinand. Perhaps more than any other character in the play, Ferdinand is resigned to allow fate to take its course, always believing that the good will balance the bad in the end. His waiting for Miranda mirrors Prospero’s waiting for reconciliation with his enemies, and it is probably Ferdinand’s balanced outlook that makes him such a sympathetic character, even though we actually see or hear very little of him on-stage.

 

[I weep] at mine unworthiness, that dare not offer

What I desire to give, and much less take

What I shall die to want. But this is trifling,

And all the more it seeks to hide itself

The bigger bulk it shows. Hence, bashful cunning,

And prompt me, plain and holy innocence.

I am your wife, if you will marry me.

If not, I’ll die your maid. To be your fellow

You may deny me, but I’ll be your servant

Whether you will or no (III.i.77–86)

Miranda delivers this speech to Ferdinand in Act III, scene i, declaring her undying love for him. Remarkably, she does not merely propose marriage, she practically insists upon it. This is one of two times in the play that Miranda seems to break out of the predictable character she has developed under the influence of her father’s magic. The first time is in Act I, scene ii, when she scolds Caliban for his ingratitude to her after all the time she has spent teaching him to speak. In the speech quoted above, as in Act I, scene ii, Miranda seems to come to a point at which she can no longer hold inside what she thinks. It is not that her desires get the better of her; rather, she realizes the necessity of expressing her desires. The naïve girl who can barely hold still long enough to hear her father’s long story in Act I, scene ii, and who is charmed asleep and awake as though she were a puppet, is replaced by a stronger, more mature individual at this moment. This speech, in which Miranda declares her sexual independence, using a metaphor that suggests both an erection and pregnancy (the “bigger bulk” trying to hide itself), seems to transform Miranda all at once from a girl into a woman.

At the same time, the last three lines somewhat undercut the power of this speech: Miranda seems, to a certain extent, a slave to her desires. Her pledge to follow Ferdinand, no matter what the cost to herself or what he desires, is echoed in the most degrading way possible by Caliban as he abases himself before the liquor-bearing Stephano. Ultimately, we know that Ferdinand and Miranda are right for one another from the fact that Ferdinand does not abuse the enormous trust Miranda puts in him.

 

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 (III.ii.130–138).

This speech is Caliban’s explanation to Stephano and Trinculo of mysterious music that they hear by magic. Though he claims that the chief virtue of his newly learned language is that it allows him to curse, Caliban here shows himself capable of using speech in a most sensitive and beautiful fashion. This speech is generally considered to be one of the most poetic in the play, and it is remarkable that Shakespeare chose to put it in the mouth of the drunken man-monster. Just when Caliban seems to have debased himself completely and to have become a purely ridiculous figure, Shakespeare gives him this speech and reminds the audience that Caliban has something within himself that Prospero, Stephano, Trinculo, and the audience itself generally cannot, or refuse to, see. It is unclear whether the “noises” Caliban discusses are the noises of the island itself or noises, like the music of the invisible Ariel, that are a result of Prospero’s magic. Caliban himself does not seem to know where these noises come from. Thus his speech conveys the wondrous beauty of the island and the depth of his attachment to it, as well as a certain amount of respect and love for Prospero’s magic, and for the possibility that he creates the “[s]ounds and sweet airs that give delight and hurt not.”

 

Our revels now are ended. These our actors,

As I foretold you, were all spirits, and

Are melted into air, into thin air;

And, like the baseless fabric of this vision,

The cloud-capped towers, the gorgeous palaces,

The solemn temples, the great globe itself,

Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve;

And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,

Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff

As dreams are made on, and our little life

Is rounded with a sleep. (IV.i.148–158)

Prospero speaks these lines just after he remembers the plot against his life and sends the wedding masque away in order to deal with that plot. The sadness in the tone of the speech seems to be related to Prospero’s surprising forgetfulness at this crucial moment in the play: he is so swept up in his own visions, in the power of his own magic, that for a moment he forgets the business of real life. From this point on, Prospero talks repeatedly of the “end” of his “labours” (IV.i.260), and of breaking his staff and drowning his magic book (V.i.54–57). One of Prospero’s goals in bringing his former enemies to the island seems to be to extricate himself from a position of near absolute power, where the concerns of real life have not affected him. He looks forward to returning to Milan, where “every third thought shall be my grave” (V.i.315). In addition, it is with a sense of relief that he announces in the epilogue that he has given up his magic powers. Prospero’s speech in Act IV, scene i emphasizes both the beauty of the world he has created for himself and the sadness of the fact that this world is in many ways meaningless because it is a kind of dream completely removed from anything substantial.

 

His mention of the “great globe,” which to an audience in 1611 would certainly suggest the Globe Theatre, calls attention to Prospero’s theatricality—to the way in which he controls events like a director or a playwright. The word “rack,” which literally means “a wisp of smoke” is probably a pun on the “wrack,” or shipwreck, with which the play began. These puns conflate the theatre and Prospero’sisland. When Prospero gives up his magic, the play will end, and the audience, like Prospero, will return to real life. No trace of the magical island will be left behind, not even of the shipwreck, for even the shipwreck was only an illusion.

 

Act Wise- Scene Wise Quotes

Act I: Scene i

Methinks he [the Boatswain]

hath no drowning mark upon him. His complexion is

perfect gallows. Stand fast, good fate, to his hanging. (I.i.)

 

I’ll warrant him for drowning though the ship were

no stronger than a nutshell as leaky as an

unstanched wench. (I.i.)

 

He’ll be hanged yet, though every drop of water swear

against it and gape at widest to glut him. (I.i.)

 

Act I: Scene ii

Your tale, sir, would cure deafness. (I.ii.)

 

Great wombs have borne bad sons. (I.ii.)

 

As wicked dew as e’er my mother brushed

With raven’s feather from unwholesome fen

Drop on you both! A southwest blow on ye

And blister you all o’er! (I.ii.)

 

When thou didst not, savage,

Know thine own meaning, but wouldst gabble like

A thing most brutish, I endowed thy purposes

With words that made them known. (I.ii.)

 

I must obey. His [Prospero’s] art is of such power

It would control my dam’s god, Setebos,

And make a vassal of him. (I.ii.)

 

My father’s of a better nature, sir,

Than he appears by speech. (I.ii.)

 

Act II: Scene i

What impossible matter will he [Gonzalo] make easy next? (II.i.)

 

You cram these words into mine ears against

The stomach of my sense. (II.i.)

 

My lord Sebastian,

The truth you speak doth lack some gentleness

And time to speak it in. You rub the sore

When you should bring the plaster. (II.i.)

I’ th’ commonwealth I would by contraries

Execute all things, for no kind of traffic

Would I admit. No name of magistrate.

Letters should not be known. Riches, poverty,

And use of service—none. Contract, succession,

Bourn, bound of land, tilth, vineyard—none.

No use of metal, corn, or wine, or oil.

No occupation: all men idle, all.

And women too, but innocent and pure.

No sovereignty— (II.i.)

 

Act II: Scene ii

Misery acquaints a man with strange bedfellows. (II.ii.)

 

Thou does me yet but little hurt. Thou wilt

anon, I know it by thy trembling. (II.ii.)

 

That’s a brave god, and bears celestial liquor. I will

kneel to him. (II.ii.)

 

Act III: Scene i

This my mean task

Would be as heavy to me as odious, but

The mistress which I serve quickens what’s dead

And makes my labors pleasures. (III.i.)

 

I do not know

One of my sex, no woman’s face remember,

Save, from my glass, mine own. Nor have I seen

More that I may call men than you, good friend,

And my dear father. How features are abroad

I am skilless of, but, by my modesty,

The jewel in my dower, I would not wish

Any companion in the world but you,

Nor can imagination form a shape

Besides yourself to like of. (III.i.)

 

Ay, with a heart as willing

As bondage e’er of freedom. Here’ s my hand. (III.i.)

 

Act III: Scene ii

Tell not me. When the butt is out, we will drink water,

not a drop before. Therefore bear up and board ‘em. (III.ii.)

 

Why, as I told thee, ’tis a custom with him

I’ th’ afternoon to sleep. There thou mayst brain him

Having first seized his books, or with a log

Batter his skull, or paunch him with a stake,

Or cut his weasand with thy knife. Remember

First to possess his books, for without them

He’s but a sot, as I am, nor hath not

One spirit to command. (III.ii.)

 

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. (III.ii.)

 

Act III: Scene iii

He is drowned

Whom thus we stray to find, and the sea mocks

Our frustrate search on land. Well, let him go. (III.iii.)

 

A living drollery. Now I will believe

That there are unicorns, that in Arabia

There is one tree, the phoenix’ throne, one phoenix

At this hour reigning there. (III.iii.)

 

You fools! I and my fellows

Are ministers of fate. The elements

Of whom your swords are tempered may as well

Wound the loud winds, or with bemocked-at stabs

Kill the still-closing waters, as diminish

One dowl that’s in my plume. My fellow ministers

Are like invulnerable. (III.iii.)

 

Act III: Scene iii

All thy vexations

Were but trials of thy love, and thou

Hast strangely stood the test. Here, afore heaven,

I ratify this my rich gift. O Ferdinand,

Do not smile at me that I boast of her,

For thou shalt find she will outstrip all praise

And make it halt behind her. (IV.i.)

 

Our revels now are ended. These our actors,

As I foretold you, were all spirits, and

Are melted into air, into thin air;

And, like the baseless fabric of this vision,

The cloud-capped towers, the gorgeous palaces,

The solemn temples, the great globe itself,

Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve;

And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,

Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff

As dreams are made on, and our little life

Is rounded with a sleep. (IV.i.)

 

If he [Prospero] awake,

From toe to crown he’ll fill our skins with pinches,

Make us strange stuff. (IV.i.)

 

Act V: Scene i& Epilogue

Your charm so strongly works ’em

That, if you now beheld them, your affections

Would become tender. (V.i.)

 

The rarer action is

In virtue than in vengeance. They being penitent,

The sole drift of my purpose doth extend

Not a frown further. (V.i.)

 

For you, most wicked sir, whom to call a brother

Would even infect my mouth, I do forgive

Thy rankest fault, all of them, and require

My dukedom of thee, which perforce, I know,

Thou must restore. (V.i.)

 

If this prove

A vision of the island, one dear son

Shall I twice lose. (V.i.)

 

Look down, you gods,

And on this couple drop a blessèd crown,

For it is you that have chalked forth they way

Which brought us hither. (V.i.)

 

 

Legacy of the play

The novel Brave New World by Aldous Huxley references The Tempest in the title, and explores genetically modified citizens and the subsequent social effects.

 

Robert Browning’s poem "Caliban upon Setebos" (1864) sets Shakespeare's character pondering theological and philosophical questions.

 

Shelley’s "With a Guitar, To Jane" identifies Ariel with the poet and his songs with poetry.

 

Samuel Pepys described it as "an old play of Shakespeares" in his diary.

 

W. H. Auden's long poem The Sea and the Mirror is in three parts, Prospero's farewell to Ariel referring to the matters unresolved at the end of the play; a reflection by each of the supporting characters on their experiences and intentions; then a prose narrative "Caliban to the Audience" which takes a Freudian viewpoint, seeing Caliban as Prospero's libidinous secret self.

 

Aimé Césaire of Martinique, in his 1969 French-language play Une Tempête sets The Tempest in a colony suffering unrest, and prefuiguring black independence. The play portrays Ariel as a mulatto who, unlike the more rebellious black Caliban, feels that negotiation and partnership is the way to freedom from the colonisers.

 

Barbadian poet E. P. Kamau Brathwaite in his 1969 poem "Caliban" identifies the character with the history of colonialism, between the first voyage of Columbus through to the Cuban Revolution.

 

Jamaican-American author Michelle Cliff's No Telephone to Heaven has a protagonist who identifies with both Caliban and Miranda.

 

Caliban influenced numerous works of African literature in the 1970s, including Ngũgĩ wa Thiong'o of Kenya's A Grain of Wheat, and David Wallace of Zambia's Do You Love Me, Master? In 1995, Sierra Leonean Lemuel Johnson's Highlife for Caliban imagined Caliban as king of his own kingdom.

 

Miranda inspired ‘The Diviners’ by Margaret Laurence, Prospero's Daughter by Constance Beresford-Howe and ‘The Measure of Miranda’ by Sarah Murphy.

 

Other writers have feminised Ariel (as in Marina Warner's novel Indigo) or Caliban (as in Suniti Namjoshi's sequence of poems Snapshots of Caliban).