Our revels now are ended, the staff is broken, the book drowned and the Porpentine is replete again. Thank you, Colin, for getting the cast into tip-top shape, and thank you Julian and Jo for creating the world for us to strutt in.
There are of course others who laboured to bring this off…..Sandie on costumes, Bryan on costruction, our technical experts in Karen, Jacob, and Andrew….Our selfless volunteers, rota’d half to death by Brenda to keep carpark, box office and programme sales up and running. The prompt, Nick, often struck dumb with incredulity……Even Frank must not be forgotten for undying enthusisasm and flogging of tickets. Thank you all – we could not do this without you.
A sample of the feedback:
Dear all, thanks so much for such a wonderful experience collaborating on The Tempest. I knew I would love working on Shakespeare but it was all made so much more enjoyable and, indeed, magical by the company. This last weekend was one of the best holidays I’ve had and I feel as though I’ve been away for weeks rather than days! Lots of love to all, and hope to see you in September if not before. Lucy xxxx
I just want you to know how pleased I was with all your efforts in “The Tempest”.It was such a pleasant job to work with you all.
There was a lovely co-operative feel during rehearsals and everybody did their best during the performances, contending with off stage noises both mechanical and animal which could easily have thrown you off course. The final two shows were a joy and it will be a long time before I forget the sheer enjoyment and pride I felt watching you on Saturday night especially.
Thank you for my present and thank you, once again, for being such a supportive cast and crew. I look forward to meeting up with you again at the AGM and BBQ in September. Much love, Colin x
It’s been a huge pleasure! Blessed to work with such a lovely bunch of people and to have you directing us. Helena x
Just wanted to thank you and the other Sevenoaks Players for a – truly – magical Tempest last night. It is a lovely play – I did it for O level – and you all did it more than justice! What with delicious food served by the he-who-must-be-obeyed landlord we had a lovely evening. Best Nicola
Here are some of Robert Piwko’s superb (as usual) pics…..feel free to upload your own if you were involved. The widget is at the bottom of the page.
- Sunday 22nd April 2 – 5pm with a Workshop at OVMH Club Room
28/29/30 June 2018 at the White Rock
4/5/6/7/8 July 2018 at the White Rock
14/15 July at St Briavels
14/15 July 2018 at St. Briavels Castle
Times: All performances start at 20:00 hours, apart from 8 July, which starts at 15:30
The Tempest Rehearsal Schedule
Date Time Venue
Mon 21 May 7.45–10 Club Room Act 4 Sc. 1 from 7.45. Act 4 Sc. 2 from 8.30.
Wed 23 May 7.45–10 Club Room Act 5 Sc. 1a from 7.45. Act 5 Sc. 1b from 8.15. Act 5 Sc. 1c from 8.45.
Sun 27 May 2 – 5 Club Room Act 1 Scene 1at 2.00. Act 2 at 2.30. Act 3 at 4.00
Mon 28 May 7.45–10 Club Room Acts 1-3 from 7.45
Wed 30 May 7.45–10 Club Room Acts 4 & 5 from 7.45
Sun 3 June 2 – 5 Club Room Run through whole play from 2pm.
Mon 4 June 7.45–10 Club Room Act 1 Sc. 1 at 7.45 Act 2 at 8.15 Act 3 at 8.45
|Wed 6 June||7.45–10||Unitarians||Acts 4 & 5 from 7.45|
|Sun 10 June||2 – 5||Club Room||Whole play|
|Mon 11 June||7.45–10||Unitarians||Acts 1 – 3 from 7.45|
|Wed13 June||7.45–10||Club Room||As required.|
|Sun 17 June||5-8||UVH||Whole play|
|Mon 18 June||7.45–10||Club Room||Acts 1 – 3 from 7.45|
|Wed 20 June||7.45–10||Club Room||Acts 4 & 5 from 7.45|
|Sun 24 June||2-6||UVH||Whole play from 2.00|
|Mon 25 June||7–10.30||W Rock / UVH||Tech Rehearsal|
|Tues 26 June||7–10.30||W Rock / UVH||Tech Rehearsal|
|Wed 27 June||7–10.30||White Rock||Dress rehearsal / Charity Performance?|
|Thur 28 June||8pm||White Rock||Performance|
|Fri 29 June||8pm||White Rock||Performance|
|Sat 30 June||8pm||White Rock||Performance|
|Wed 4 July||8pm||White Rock||Performance|
|Thur 5 July||8pm||White Rock||Performance|
|Fri 6 July||8pm||White Rock||Performance|
|Sat7 July||8pm||White Rock||Performance|
|Sun 8 July||3.30pm||White Rock||Performance|
|Sat 14 July||8pm||St Briavels||Performance|
|Sun 15 July||2pm||St Briavels||Performance|
Rehearsals are at OVMH when Club Room or Hope Room is mentioned. Unitarians is Sevenoaks Unitarian Church, 5 Westerham Road, Bessels Green, TN13 2PX. Car parking available. UVH is Underriver Village Hall. Parking in the road outside the hall during the rehearsal period and off road during performances.
SCENE I. On a ship at sea: a tempestuous noise of thunder and lightning heard.
Enter a Master and a Boatswain
Here, master: what cheer?
Good, speak to the mariners: fall to’t, yarely,
or we run ourselves aground: bestir, bestir.
Heigh, my hearts! cheerly, cheerly, my hearts!
yare, yare! Take in the topsail. Tend to the
master’s whistle. Blow, till thou burst thy wind,
if room enough!
Enter ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, ANTONIA, FERDINAND, GONZALO, and others
Good boatswain, have care. Where’s the master?
Play the men.
I pray now, keep below.
Where is the master, boatswain?
Do you not hear him? You mar our labour: keep your cabins: you do assist the storm.
Nay, good, be patient.
When the sea is. Hence! What cares these roarers for the name of king? To cabin: silence! trouble us not.
Good, yet remember whom thou hast aboard.
None that I more love than myself. You are a
counsellor; if you can command these elements to
silence, and work the peace of the present, we will
not hand a rope more; use your authority: if you
cannot, give thanks you have lived so long, and make
yourself ready in your cabin for the mischance of
the hour, if it so hap. Cheerly, good hearts! Out
of our way, I say.
If he be not
born to be hanged, our case is miserable.
Down with the topmast! yare! lower, lower! Bring
her to try with main-course.
Re-enter SEBASTIAN, ANTONIA, and GONZALO
Yet again! what do you here? Shall we give o’er
and drown? Have you a mind to sink?
A pox o’ your throat, you bawling, blasphemous,
Work you then.
Hang, cur! hang, you whoreson, insolent noisemaker!
We are less afraid to be drowned than thou art.
I’ll warrant him for drowning; though the ship were
no stronger than a nutshell and as leaky as an
Lay her a-hold, a-hold! set her two courses off to
sea again; lay her off.
The king and prince at prayers! let’s assist them,
For our case is as theirs.
I’m out of patience.
We are merely cheated of our lives by drunkards.
He’ll be hang’d yet,
Though every drop of water swear against it
And gape at widest to glut him.
A confused noise within: ‘Mercy on us!’– ‘We split, we split!’–‘Farewell, my wife and children!’– ‘Farewell, brother!’–‘We split, we split, we split!’
Let’s all sink with the king.
Let’s take leave of him.
Exeunt ANTONIA and SEBASTIAN
Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea for an
acre of barren ground, long heath, brown furze, any
thing. The wills above be done! but I would fain
die a dry death.
SCENE II. The island. Before PROSPERA’S cell.
Enter PROSPERA and MIRANDA
If by your art, my dearest mother, you have
Put the wild waters in this roar, allay them.
The sky, it seems, would pour down stinking pitch,
But that the sea, mounting to the welkin’s cheek,
Dashes the fire out. O, I have suffered
With those that I saw suffer: a brave vessel,
Who had, no doubt, some noble creature in her,
Dash’d all to pieces. O, the cry did knock
Against my very heart. Poor souls, they perish’d.
Had I been any god of power, I would
Have sunk the sea within the earth or ere
It should the good ship so have swallow’d and
The fraughting souls within her.
No more amazement: tell your piteous heart
There’s no harm done.
O, woe the day!
I have done nothing but in care of thee,
Of thee, my dear one, thee, my daughter, who
Art ignorant of what thou art, nought knowing
Of whence I am, nor that I am more better
Than Prospera, mistrss of a full poor cell,
And thy no greater mother.
More to know
Did never meddle with my thoughts.
I should inform thee farther. Lend thy hand,
And pluck my magic garment from me. So:
Lays down her mantle
Lie there, my art. Wipe thou thine eyes; have comfort.
The direful spectacle of the wreck, which touch’d
The very virtue of compassion in thee,
I have with such provision in mine art
So safely ordered that there is no soul–
No, not so much perdition as an hair
Betid to any creature in the vessel
Which thou heard’st cry, which thou saw’st sink. Sit down;
For thou must now know farther.
You have often
Begun to tell me what I am, but stopp’d
And left me to a bootless inquisition,
Concluding ‘Stay: not yet.’
The hour’s now come;
The very minute bids thee ope thine ear;
Obey and be attentive. Canst thou remember
A time before we came unto this cell?
I do not think thou canst, for then thou wast not
Out three years old.
Certainly, I can.
By what? by any other house or person?
‘Tis far off
And rather like a dream than an assurance
That my remembrance warrants. Had I not
Four or five women once that tended me?
Thou hadst, and more, Miranda. But how is it
That this lives in thy mind? What seest thou else
In the dark backward and abysm of time?
If thou remember’st aught ere thou camest here,
How thou camest here thou mayst.
But that I do not.
Twelve year since, Miranda, twelve year since,
Thy mother was the Duke of Milan and
A prince of power.
And thou her only heir
And princess no worse issued.
O the heavens!
What foul play had we, that we came from thence?
Or blessed was’t we did?
Both, both, my girl:
By foul play, as thou say’st, were we heaved thence,
But blessedly holp hither.
O, my heart bleeds
To think o’ the teen that I have turn’d you to,
Which is from my remembrance! Please you, further.
My sister and thy good aunt, call’d Antonia–
I pray thee, mark me–that a sister should
Be so perfidious!–she whom next thyself
Of all the world I loved and to her put
The manage of my state.
The government I cast upon my sister
And to my state grew stranger, being transported
And rapt in secret studies. Thy false aunt—
Dost thou attend me?
Sir, most heedfully.
Being once perfected how to grant suits,
How to deny them, who to advance.
Thou attend’st not!
O, good sir, I do.
I pray thee, mark me.
I, thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicated
To closeness and the bettering of my mind,
In my false sister
Awaked an evil nature.
Made such a sinner of her memory,
To credit her own lie, she did believe
She was indeed the duke.
Dost thou hear?
Your tale, sir, would cure deafness.
Hence, her ambition growing,
She needs will be
Absolute Milan. Me, alas, my library
Was dukedom large enough: of temporal royalties
She thinks me now incapable; confederates–
So dry she was for sway–wi’ the King of Naples
To give him annual tribute, do him homage,
Subject her coronet to his crown and bend
The dukedom yet unbow’d–alas, poor Milan!–
To most ignoble stooping.
O the heavens!
Mark her condition and the event; then tell me
If this might be a sister.
I should sin
To think but nobly of my grandmother:
Good wombs have evil borne.
Now the condition.
The King of Naples, being an enemy
To me inveterate, hearkens my sister’s suit;
Which was, that he, in lieu o’ the premises
Of homage and I know not how much tribute,
Should presently extirpate me and mine
Out of the dukedom and confer fair Milan
With all the honours on my sister: whereon,
A treacherous army levied, one midnight
Fated to the purpose did Antonia open
The gates of Milan, and, i’ the dead of darkness,
The ministers for the purpose hurried thence
Me and thy crying self.
Alack, for pity!
Hear a little further
And then I’ll bring thee to the present business
Which now’s upon’s; without the which this story
Were most impertinent.
Wherefore did they not
That hour destroy us?
Well demanded, wench:
My tale provokes that question. Dear, they durst not,
So dear the love my people bore me, nor set
A mark so bloody on the business, but
With colours fairer painted their foul ends.
In few, they hurried us aboard a bark,
Bore us some leagues to sea; where they prepared
A rotten carcass of a boat, not rigg’d,
Nor tackle, sail, nor mast; the very rats
Instinctively had quit it: there they hoist us,
To cry to the sea that roar’d to us, to sigh
To the winds whose pity, sighing back again,
Did us but loving wrong.
Alack, what trouble
Was I then to you!
O, a cherubim
Thou wast that did preserve me.
How came we ashore?
By Providence divine.
Some food we had and some fresh water that
A noble Neapolitan, Gonzalo,
Out of his charity, did give us, with
Rich garments, linens, stuffs and necessaries,
Which since have steaded much; so, of his gentleness,
Knowing I loved my books, he furnish’d me
From mine own library with volumes that
I prize above my dukedom.
Would I might
But ever see that man!
Now I arise:
Resumes her mantle
Sit still, and hear the last of our sea-sorrow.
Here in this island we arrived; and here
Have I, thy schoolmistress, made thee more profit
Than other princesses can that have more time
For vainer hours and tutors not so careful.
Heavens thank you for’t! And now, I do pray you,
For still ’tis beating in my mind, your reason
For raising this sea-storm?
Know thus far forth.
By accident most strange, bountiful Fortune,
Now my dear lady, hath mine enemies
Brought to this shore; and by my prescience
I find my zenith doth depend upon
A most auspicious star, whose influence
If now I court not but omit, my fortunes
Will ever after droop. Here cease more questions:
Thou art inclined to sleep; ’tis a good dullness,
And give it way: I know thou canst not choose.
Come away, servant, come. I am ready now.
Approach, my Ariel, come.
All hail, great mistress! grave one, hail! I come
To answer thy best pleasure; be’t to fly,
To swim, to dive into the fire, to ride
On the curled clouds, to thy strong bidding task
Ariel and all his quality.
Hast thou, spirit,
Performed to point the tempest that I bade thee?
To every article.
I boarded the king’s ship; now on the beak,
Now in the waist, the deck, in every cabin,
I flamed amazement: sometime I’ld divide,
And burn in many places; on the topmast,
The yards and bowsprit, would I flame distinctly,
Then meet and join. Jove’s lightnings, the precursors
O’ the dreadful thunder-claps, more momentary
And sight-outrunning were not; the fire and cracks
Of sulphurous roaring the most mighty Neptune
Seem to besiege and make his bold waves tremble,
Yea, his dread trident shake.
My brave spirit!
Who was so firm, so constant, that this coil
Would not infect his reason?
Not a soul
But felt a fever of the mad and played
Some tricks of desperation. All but mariners
Plunged in the foaming brine and quit the vessel,
Then all afire with me: the king’s son, Ferdinand,
With hair up-staring,–then like reeds, not hair,–
Was the first man that leaped; cried, ‘Hell is empty
And all the devils are here.’
Why that’s my spirit!
But was not this nigh shore?
Close by, my mistress.
But are they, Ariel, safe?
Not a hair perished;
On their sustaining garments not a blemish,
But fresher than before: and, as thou badest me,
In troops I have dispersed them ’bout the isle.
The king’s son have I landed by himself;
Whom I left cooling of the air with sighs
In an odd angle of the isle and sitting,
His arms in this sad knot.
Of the king’s ship
The mariners say how thou hast disposed
And all the rest o’ the fleet.
Safely in harbour
Is the king’s ship.
The mariners all under hatches stowed;
Who, with a charm joined to their suffered labour,
I have left asleep; and for the rest o’ the fleet
Which I dispersed, they all have met again
And are upon the Mediterranean flote,
Bound sadly home for Naples,
Supposing that they saw the king’s ship wrecked
And his great person perish.
Ariel, thy charge
Exactly is performed: but there’s more work.
What is the time o’ the day?
Past the mid season.
At least two glasses. The time ‘twixt six and now
Must by us both be spent most preciously.
Is there more toil? Since thou dost give me pains,
Let me remember thee what thou hast promised,
Which is not yet performed me.
How now? moody?
What is’t thou canst demand?
Before the time be out? no more!
Remember I have done thee worthy service;
Told thee no lies, made thee no mistakings, served
Without or grudge or grumblings: thou didst promise
To bate me a full year.
Dost thou forget
From what a torment I did free thee?
Thou dost, and think’st it much to tread the ooze
Of the salt deep,
To run upon the sharp wind of the north,
To do me business in the veins o’ the earth
When it is baked with frost.
I do not, mistress.
Thou liest, malignant thing! Hast thou forgot
The foul witch Sycorax, who with age and envy
Was grown into a hoop? hast thou forgot her?
Thou hast. I must
Once in a month recount what thou hast been,
Which thou forget’st.
This blue-eyed hag was hither brought with child
And here was left by the sailors. Thou, my slave,
As thou report’st thyself, wast then her servant;
And, for thou wast a spirit too delicate
To act her earthy and abhorred commands,
Refusing her grand hests, she did confine thee,
By help of her more potent ministers
And in her most unmitigable rage,
Into a cloven pine; within which rift
Imprison’d thou didst painfully remain
A dozen years; within which space she died
And left thee there; where thou didst vent thy groans
As fast as mill-wheels strike. Then was this island–
Save for the son that she did litter here,
A freckled whelp hag-born–not honoured with
A human shape.
Yes, Caliban her son.
Dull thing, I say so; he, that Caliban
Whom now I keep in service. Thou best know’st
What torment I did find thee in; thy groans
Did make wolves howl and penetrate the breasts
Of ever angry bears: it was a torment
To lay upon the damned, which Sycorax
Could not again undo: it was mine art,
When I arrived and heard thee, that made gape
The pine and let thee out.
I thank thee, mistress.
If thou more murmur’st, I will rend an oak
And peg thee in his knotty entrails till
Thou hast howl’d away twelve winters.
I will be correspondent to command
And do my spiriting gently.
Do so, and after two days
I will discharge thee.
That’s my noble mistress!
What shall I do? say what; what shall I do?
Go make thyself like a nymph o’ the sea: be subject
To no sight but thine and mine, invisible
To every eyeball else. Go take this shape
And hither come in’t: go, hence with diligence!
Awake, dear heart, awake! thou hast slept well; Awake!
The strangeness of your story put
Heaviness in me.
Shake it off. Come on;
We’ll visit Caliban my slave, who never
Yields us kind answer.
‘Tis a villain,
That I do not love to look on.
But, as ’tis,
We cannot miss him: he does make our fire,
Fetch in our wood and serves in offices
That profit us. What, ho! slave! Caliban!
Thou earth, thou! speak.
[Within] There’s wood enough within.
Come forth, I say! there’s other business for thee:
Come, thou tortoise! when?
Fine apparition! My quaint Ariel,
Hark in thine ear.
My lord it shall be done.
Thou poisonous slave, got by the devil himself
Upon thy wicked dam, come forth!
As wicked dew as e’er my mother brushed
With raven’s feather from unwholesome fen
Drop on you both! a south-west blow on ye
And blister you all o’er!
For this, be sure, to-night thou shalt have cramps,
Side-stitches that shall pen thy breath up; urchins
Shall, for that vast of night that they may work,
All exercise on thee; thou shalt be pinched
As thick as honeycomb, each pinch more stinging
Than bees that made ’em.
I must eat my dinner.
This island’s mine, by Sycorax my mother,
Which thou takest from me. When thou camest first,
Thou strokedst me and madest much of me, wouldst give me
Water with berries in’t, and teach me how
To name the bigger light, and how the less,
That burn by day and night: and then I loved thee
And show’d thee all the qualities o’ the isle,
The fresh springs, brine-pits, barren place and fertile:
Cursed be I that did so! All the charms
Of Sycorax, toads, beetles, bats, light on you!
For I am all the subjects that you have,
Which first was mine own king: and here you sty me
In this hard rock, whiles you do keep from me
The rest o’ the island.
Thou most lying slave,
Whom stripes may move, not kindness! I have used thee,
Filth as thou art, with human care, and lodged thee
In mine own cell, till thou didst seek to violate
The honour of my child.
O ho, O ho! would’t had been done!
Thou didst prevent me; I had peopled else
This isle with Calibans.
Which any print of goodness wilt not take,
Being capable of all ill! I pitied thee,
Took pains to make thee speak, taught thee each hour
One thing or other: when thou didst not, savage,
Know thine own meaning, but wouldst gabble like
A thing most brutish, I endow’d thy purposes
With words that made them known.
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!
Fetch us in fuel; and be quick.
Shrug’st thou, malice?
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
That beasts shall tremble at thy din.
No, pray thee.
I must obey: her art is of such power,
It would control my dam’s god, Setebos,
and make a vassal of him.
So, slave; hence!
Re-enter ARIEL, invisible, playing and singing; FERDINAND following
Come unto these yellow sands,
And then take hands:
Curtsied when you have and kissed
The wild waves whist,
Foot it featly here and there;
And, sweet sprites, the burthen bear.
[Burthen dispersedly, within]Bow-wow!
The watch-dogs bark!
[Burthen, dispersedly] Bow-wow!
Hark, hark! I hear
The strain of strutting chanticleer
Where should this music be? I’ the air or the earth?
It sounds no more: and sure, it waits upon
Some god o’ the island.
Sitting on a bank,
Weeping again the king my father’s wreck,
This music crept by me upon the waters,
Allaying both their fury and my passion
With its sweet air: thence I have followed it,
Or it hath drawn me rather. But ’tis gone.
No, it begins again.
Full fathom five thy father lies;
Of his bones are coral made;
Those are pearls that were his eyes:
Nothing of him that doth fade
But doth suffer a sea-change
Into something rich and strange.
Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell
Hark! now I hear them,–Ding-dong, bell.
The ditty does remember my drowned father.
This is no mortal business, nor no sound
That the earth owes. I hear it now above me.
The fringed curtains of thine eye advance
And say what thou seest yond.
What is’t? a spirit?
Lord, how it looks about! Believe me, sir,
It carries a brave form. But ’tis a spirit.
No, wench; it eats and sleeps and hath such senses
As we have, such. This gallant which thou seest
Was in the wreck; and, but he’s something stained
With grief that’s beauty’s canker, thou mightst call him
A goodly person: he hath lost his fellows
And strays about to find ’em.
I might call him
A thing divine, for nothing natural
I ever saw so noble.
[Aside] It goes on, I see,
As my soul prompts it. Spirit, fine spirit! I’ll free thee
Within two days for this.
Most sure, the goddess
On whom these airs attend! Vouchsafe my prayer
May know if you remain upon this island;
And that you will some good instruction give
How I may bear me here: my prime request,
Which I do last pronounce, is, O you wonder!
If you be maid or no?
No wonder, sir;
But certainly a maid.
My language! heavens!
I am the best of them that speak this speech,
Were I but where ’tis spoken.
How? the best?
What wert thou, if the King of Naples heard thee?
A single thing, as I am now, that wonders
To hear thee speak of Naples. He does hear me;
And that he does I weep. Myself am Naples,
Who with mine eyes, never since at ebb, beheld
The king my father wreck’d.
Alack, for mercy!
Yes, faith, and all his lords; the Duke of Milan
And his brave son being twain.
[Aside] The Duke of Milan
And his more braver daughter could control thee,
If now ’twere fit to do’t. At the first sight
They have changed eyes. Delicate Ariel,
I’ll set thee free for this.
A word, good sir;
I fear you have done yourself some wrong: a word.
Why speaks my mother so ungently? This
Is the third man that e’er I saw, the first
That e’er I sigh’d for: pity move my fmother
To be inclined my way!
O, if a virgin,
And your affection not gone forth, I’ll make you
The queen of Naples.
Soft, sir! one word more.
They are both in either’s powers; but this swift business
I must uneasy make, lest too light winning
Make the prize light.
One word more! I charge thee
That thou attend me : Thou dost here usurp
The name thou ow’st not; and hast put thyself
Upon this island as a spy, to win it
From me, the lord on’t.
No, as I am a man.
There’s nothing ill can dwell in such a temple:
If the ill spirit have so fair a house,
Good things will strive to dwell with’t.
Speak not you for him; he’s a traitor. Come;
I’ll manacle thy neck and feet together:
Sea-water shalt thou drink; thy food shall be
The fresh-brook muscles, withered roots and husks
Wherein the acorn cradled. Follow.
I will resist such entertainment till
Mine enemy has more power.
Draws, and is charmed from moving
O dear mother,
Make not too rash a trial of him, for
He’s gentle and not fearful.
What? I say,
My foot my tutor? Put thy blade up, traitor;
Who mak’st a show but dar’st not strike, thy conscience
Is so possessed with guilt: come from thy ward,
For I can here disarm thee with this stick
And make thy weapon drop.
Beseech you, mother.
Hence! hang not on my garments.
Oh, have pity;
I’ll be his surety.
Silence! one word more
Shall make me chide thee, if not hate thee. What!
An advocate for an imposter! hush!
Thou think’st there is no more such shapes as he,
Having seen but him and Caliban: foolish wench!
To the most of men this is a Caliban
And they to him are angels.
Are then most humble; I have no ambition
To see a goodlier man.
Come on; obey:
Thy nerves are in their infancy again
And have no vigour in them.
So they are;
My spirits, as in a dream, are all bound up.
My father’s loss, the weakness which I feel,
The wreck of all my friends, nor this one’s threats,
To whom I am subdued, are but light to me,
Might I but through my prison once a day
Behold this maid.
[Aside] It works.
Thou hast done well, fine Ariel!
Hark what thou else shalt do me.
Be of comfort;
My father’s of a better nature, sir,
Than he appears by speech: this is unwonted
Which now came from him.
Thou shalt be free
As mountain winds: but then exactly do
All points of my command.
To the syllable.
Speak not for him.
SCENE I. Another part of the island.
Enter ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, ANTONIA, GONZALO, ADRIAN, FRANCISCO, and others
Beseech you, sir, be merry; you have cause,
So have we all, of joy; for our escape
Is much beyond our loss. Our hint of woe
Is common; every day some sailor’s wife,
The masters of some merchant and the merchant
Have just our theme of woe; but for the miracle,
I mean our preservation, few in millions
Can speak like us: then wisely, good sir, weigh
Our sorrow with our comfort.
He receives comfort like cold porridge.
The visitor will not give him o’er so.
(Aside to ANTONIA)
Look he’s winding up the watch of his wit;
by and by it will strike.
Fie, what a spendthrift is he of his tongue!
I prithee, spare.
Well, I have done: but yet,–
He will be talking.
Which, of he or Adrian, for a good
wager, first begins to crow?
The old cock.
Done. The wager?
Though this island seem to be desert,–
Ha, ha, ha! So, you’re paid.
Uninhabitable and almost inaccessible,–
He could not miss’t.
It must needs be of subtle, tender and delicate temperance.
Temperance was a delicate wench.
Ay, and a subtle; as he most learnedly delivered.
The air breathes upon us here most sweetly.
As if it had lungs and rotten ones.
Or as ’twere perfumed by a fen.
Here is everything advantageous to life.
True; save means to live.
Of that there’s none, or little.
How lush and lusty the grass looks! how green!
The ground indeed is tawny.
With an eye of green in’t.
He misses not much.
No; he doth but mistake the truth totally.
But the rarity of it is,–which is indeed almost
As many vouched rarities are.
That our garments, being, as they were, drenched in
the sea, hold notwithstanding their freshness and
glosses, being rather new-dyed than stained with
If but one of his pockets could speak, would it not
say he lies?
Ay, or very falsely pocket up his report
Methinks our garments are now as fresh as when we
put them on first in Afric, at the marriage of
the king’s fair daughter Claribel to the King of Tunis.
‘Twas a sweet marriage, and we prosper well in our return.
Tunis was never graced before with such a paragon to
Sir, we were talking that our garments seem now
as fresh as when we were at Tunis at the marriage
of your daughter, who is now queen.
And the rarest that e’er came there.
Is not, sir, my doublet as fresh as the first day I
wore it? I mean, in a sort.
That sort was well fished for.
When I wore it at your daughter’s marriage?
You cram these words into mine ears against
The stomach of my sense. Would I had never
Married my daughter there! for, coming thence,
My son is lost and, in my rate, she too,
Who is so far from Italy removed
I ne’er again shall see her. O thou mine heir
Of Naples and of Milan, what strange fish
Hath made his meal on thee?
Sir, he may live:
I saw him beat the surges under him,
And ride upon their backs; he trod the water,
Whose enmity he flung aside, and breasted
The surge most swoln that met him; his bold head
‘Bove the contentious waves he kept, and oar’d
Himself with his good arms in lusty stroke.
I not doubt
He came alive to land.
No, no, he’s gone.
Sir, you may thank yourself for this great loss,
That would not bless our Europe with your daughter,
But rather loose her to an African;
Where she at least is banish’d from your eye,
Who hath cause to wet the grief on’t.
You were kneel’d to and importuned otherwise
By all of us, and the fair soul herself
Weigh’d between loathness and obedience, at
Which end o’ the beam should bow. We have lost your son,
I fear, for ever: Milan and Naples have
More widows in them of this business’ making
Than we bring men to comfort them:
The fault’s your own.
So is the dear’st o’ the loss.
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.
It is foul weather in us all, good sir,
When you are cloudy.
Had I plantation of this isle, my lord,–
He’ld sow’t with nettle-seed.
Or docks, or mallows.
And were the king on’t, what would I do?
‘Scape being drunk for want of wine.
I’ the 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;
Yet he would be king on’t.
The latter end of his commonwealth forgets the
All things in common nature should produce
Without sweat or endeavour: treason, felony,
Sword, pike, knife, gun, or need of any engine,
Would I not have; but nature should bring forth,
Of its own kind, all foison, all abundance,
To feed my innocent people.
No marrying ‘mong his subjects?
None, man; all idle: whores and knaves.
I would with such perfection govern, sir,
To excel the golden age.
God save his majesty!
Long live Gonzalo!
And,–do you mark me, sir?
Prithee, no more: thou dost talk nothing to me.
I do well believe your highness; and
did it to minister occasion to these gentlemen,
who are of such sensible and nimble lungs that
they always use to laugh at nothing.
‘Twas you we laughed at.
Who in this kind of merry fooling am nothing
to you: so you may continue and laugh at
What a blow was there given!
An it had not fallen flat-long.
You are gentlemen of brave metal; you would lift
the moon out of her sphere, if she would continue
in it five weeks without changing.
Enter ARIEL, invisible, playing solemn music
We would so, and then go a bat-fowling.
Nay, good my lord, be not angry.
No, I warrant you; I will not adventure
my discretion so weakly. Will you laugh
me asleep, for I am very heavy?
Go sleep, and hear us.
All sleep except ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, and ANTONIA
What, all so soon asleep! I wish mine eyes
Would, with themselves, shut up my thoughts: I find
They are inclined to do so.
Please you, sir,
Do not omit the heavy offer of it:
It seldom visits sorrow; when it doth,
It is a comforter.
We two, my lord,
Will guard your person while you take your rest,
And watch your safety.
Thank you. Wondrous heavy.
ALONSO sleeps. Exit ARIEL
What a strange drowsiness possesses them!
It is the quality o’ the climate.
Doth it not then our eyelids sink? I find not
Myself disposed to sleep.
Nor I; my spirits are nimble.
They fell together all, as by consent;
They dropp’d, as by a thunder-stroke. What might,
Worthy Sebastian? O, what might?–No more:–
And yet me thinks I see it in thy face,
What thou shouldst be: the occasion speaks thee, and
My strong imagination sees a crown
Dropping upon thy head.
What, art thou waking?
Do you not hear me speak?
I do; and surely
It is a sleepy language and thou speak’st
Out of thy sleep. What is it thou didst say?
This is a strange repose, to be asleep
With eyes wide open; standing, speaking, moving,
And yet so fast asleep.
Thou let’st thy fortune sleep–die, rather; wink’st
Whiles thou art waking.
Thou dost snore distinctly;
There’s meaning in thy snores.
I am more serious than my custom: you
Must be so too, if heed me; which to do
Trebles thee o’er.
Well, I am standing water.
I’ll teach you how to flow.
Do so: to ebb
Hereditary sloth instructs me.
O, if you but knew how you the purpose cherish
Whiles thus you mock it! how, in stripping it,
You more invest it! Ebbing men, indeed,
Most often do so near the bottom run
By their own fear or sloth.
Prithee, say on:
The setting of thine eye and cheek proclaim
A matter from thee, and a birth indeed
Which throes thee much to yield.
Although this lord of weak remembrance, this,
Who shall be of as little memory
When he is earth’d, hath here almost persuade,–
For he’s a spirit of persuasion, only
Professes to persuade,–the king his son’s alive,
‘Tis as impossible that he’s undrown’d
And he that sleeps here swims.
I have no hope
That he’s undrown’d.
O, out of that ‘no hope’
What great hope have you! no hope that way is
Another way so high a hope that even
Ambition cannot pierce a wink beyond,
But doubt discovery there. Will you grant with me
That Ferdinand is drown’d?
Then, tell me,
Who’s the next heir of Naples?
She that is queen of Tunis; she that dwells
Ten leagues beyond man’s life; she that from Naples
Can have no note, unless the sun were post–
The man i’ the moon’s too slow–till new-born chins
Be rough and razorable; she that–from whom?
We all were sea-swallow’d, though some cast again,
And by that destiny to perform an act
Whereof what’s past is prologue, what to come
In yours and my discharge.
What stuff is this! how say you?
‘Tis true, my brother’s daughter’s queen of Tunis;
So is she heir of Naples; ‘twixt which regions
There is some space.
A space whose every cubit
Seems to cry out, ‘How shall that Claribel
Measure us back to Naples? Keep in Tunis,
And let Sebastian wake.’ Say, this were death
That now hath seized them; why, they were no worse
Than now they are. There be that can rule Naples
As well as he that sleeps; lords that can prate
As amply and unnecessarily
As this Gonzalo; I myself could make
A chough of as deep chat. O, that you bore
The mind that I do! what a sleep were this
For your advancement! Do you understand me?
Methinks I do.
And how does your content
Tender your own good fortune?
You did supplant your sister Prospera.
And look how well my garments sit upon me;
Much feater than before: my brother’s servants
Were then my fellows; now they are my men.
But, for your conscience?
Ay, sir; where lies that? if ’twere a corn,
‘Twould put me to my slipper: but I feel not
This deity in my bosom: twenty consciences,
That stand ‘twixt me and Milan, candied be they
And melt ere they molest! Here lies your brother,
No better than the earth he lies upon,
If he were that which now he’s like, that’s dead;
Whom I, with this obedient steel, three inches of it,
Can lay to bed for ever; whiles you, doing thus,
To the perpetual wink for aye might put
This ancient morsel, this Sir Prudence, who
Should not upbraid our course. For all the rest,
They’ll take suggestion as a cat laps milk;
They’ll tell the clock to any business that
We say befits the hour.
Thy case, dear friend,
Shall be my precedent; as thou got’st Milan,
I’ll come by Naples. Draw thy sword: one stroke
Shall free thee from the tribute which thou payest;
And I the king shall love thee.
And when I rear my hand, do you the like,
To fall it on Gonzalo.
O, but one word.
They talk apart
Re-enter ARIEL, invisible
My master through his art foresees the danger
That you, his friend, are in; and sends me forth–
For else his project dies–to keep them living.
Sings in GONZALO’s ear
While you here do snoring lie,
His time doth take.
If of life you keep a care,
Shake off slumber, and beware:
Then let us both be sudden.
Now, good angels
Preserve the king.
Why, how now? ho, awake! Why are you drawn?
Wherefore this ghastly looking?
What’s the matter?
Whiles we stood here securing your repose,
Even now, we heard a hollow burst of bellowing
Like bulls, or rather lions: did’t not wake you?
It struck mine ear most terribly.
I heard nothing.
O, ’twas a din to fright a monster’s ear,
To make an earthquake! sure, it was the roar
Of a whole herd of lions.
Heard you this, Gonzalo?
Upon mine honour, sir, I heard a humming,
And that a strange one too, which did awake me:
I shaked you, sir, and cried: as mine eyes open’d,
I saw their weapons drawn: there was a noise,
That’s verily. ‘Tis best we stand upon our guard,
Or that we quit this place; let’s draw our weapons.
Lead off this ground; and let’s make further search
For my poor son.
Heavens keep him from these beasts!
For he is, sure, i’ the island.
Prospera shall know what I have done:
So, king, go safely on to seek thy son.
SCENE II. Another part of the island.
Enter CALIBAN with a burden of wood. A noise of thunder heard
All the infections that the sun sucks up
From bogs, fens, flats, on Prosper fall and make him
By inch-meal a disease! His spirits hear me
And yet I needs must curse. But they’ll nor pinch,
Fright me with urchin–shows, pitch me i’ the mire,
Nor lead me, like a firebrand, in the dark
Out of my way, unless he bid ’em; but
For every trifle are they set upon me;
Sometime like apes that mow and chatter at me
And after bite me, then like hedgehogs which
Lie tumbling in my barefoot way and mount
Their pricks at my footfall; sometime am I
All wound with adders who with cloven tongues
Do hiss me into madness.
Lo, now, lo!
Here comes a spirit of his, and to torment me
For bringing wood in slowly. I’ll fall flat;
Perchance he will not mind me.
Here’s neither bush nor shrub, to bear off
any weather at all, and another storm brewing;
I hear it sing i’ the wind: yond same black
cloud, yond huge one, looks like a foul
bombard that would shed his liquor. If it
should thunder as it did before, I know not
where to hide my head: yond same cloud cannot
choose but fall by pailfuls.
What have wehere? a man or a fish? dead or alive?
A fish: he smells like a fish; a very ancient and fish-
like smell; a kind of not of the newest Poor-
John. A strange fish! Were I in England now,
as once I was, and had but this fish painted,
not a holiday fool there but would give a piece
of silver: 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 lazy out ten to see a dead
Indian. Legged like a man and his fins like
arms! Warm o’ my troth! I do now let loose
my opinion; hold it no longer: this is no fish,
but an islander, that hath lately suffered by a
Alas, the storm is come again! my best way is to
creep under his gaberdine; there is no other
shelter hereabouts: misery acquaints a man with
strange bed-fellows. I will here shroud till the
dregs of the storm be past.
Enter STEPHANO, singing: a bottle in his hand
I shall no more to sea, to sea,
Here shall I die ashore–
This is a very scurvy tune to sing at a man’s
funeral: well, here’s my comfort.
The master, the swabber, the boatswain and I,
The gunner and his mate
Loved Mall, Meg and Marian and Margery,
But none of us cared for Kate;
For she had a tongue with a tang,
Would cry to a sailor, Go hang!
She loved not the savour of tar nor of pitch,
Yet a tailor might scratch her where’er she did itch:
Then to sea, boys, and let her go hang!
This is a scurvy tune too: but here’s my comfort.
Do not torment me: Oh!
What’s the matter? Have we devils here? Do you put
tricks upon’s with savages and men of Ind, ha? I
have not scaped drowning to be afeard now of your
four legs; for it hath been said, As proper a man as
ever went on four legs cannot make him give ground;
and it shall be said so again while Stephano
breathes at’s nostrils.
The spirit torments me; Oh!
This is some monster of the isle with four legs, who
hath got, as I take it, an ague. Where the devil
should he learn our language? I will give him some
relief, if it be but for that. if I can recover him
and keep him tame and get to Naples with him, he’s a
present for any emperor that ever trod on neat’s leather.
Do not torment me, prithee; I’ll bring my wood home faster.
He’s in his fit now and does not talk after the
wisest. He shall taste of my bottle: if he have
never drunk wine afore will go near to remove his
fit. If I can recover him and keep him tame, I will
not take too much for him; he shall pay for him that
hath him, and that soundly.
Thou dost me yet but little hurt; thou wilt anon, I
know it by thy trembling: now Prosper works upon thee.
Come on your ways; open your mouth; here is that
which will give language to you, cat: open your
mouth; this will shake your shaking, I can tell you,
and that soundly: you cannot tell who’s your friend:
open your chaps again.
I should know that voice: it should be–but he is
drowned; and these are devils: O defend me!
Four legs and two voices: a most delicate monster!
His forward voice now is to speak well of his
friend; his backward voice is to utter foul speeches
and to detract. If all the wine in my bottle will
recover him, I will help his ague. Come. Amen! I
will pour some in thy other mouth.
Doth thy other mouth call me? Mercy, mercy! This is
a devil, and no monster: I will leave him; I have no
Stephano! If thou beest Stephano, touch me and
speak to me: for I am Trinculo–be not afeard–thy
good friend Trinculo.
If thou beest Trinculo, come forth: I’ll pull thee
by the lesser legs: if any be Trinculo’s legs,
these are they. Thou art very Trinculo indeed! How
camest thou to be the siege of this moon-calf? can
he vent Trinculos?
I took him to be killed with a thunder-stroke. But
art thou not drowned, Stephano? I hope now thou art
not drowned. Is the storm overblown? I hid me
under the dead moon-calf’s gaberdine for fear of
the storm. And art thou living, Stephano? O
Stephano, two Neapolitans ‘scaped!
Prithee, do not turn me about; my stomach is not constant.
[Aside] These be fine things, an if they be
That’s a brave god and bears celestial liquor.
I will kneel to him.
How didst thou ‘scape? How camest thou hither?
swear by this bottle how thou camest hither. I
escaped upon a butt of sack which the sailors
heaved o’erboard, by this bottle; which I made of
the bark of a tree with mine own hands since I was
I’ll swear upon that bottle to be thy true subject;
for the liquor is not earthly.
Here; swear then how thou escaped’st.
Swum ashore. man, like a duck: I can swim like a
duck, I’ll be sworn.
Here, kiss the book. Though thou canst swim like a
duck, thou art made like a goose.
O Stephano. hast any more of this?
The whole butt, man: my cellar is in a rock by the
sea-side where my wine is hid. How now, moon-calf!
how does thine ague?
Hast thou not dropp’d from heaven?
Out o’ the moon, I do assure thee: I was the man i’
the moon when time was.
I have seen thee in her and I do adore thee:
My mistress show’d me thee and thy dog and thy bush.
Come, swear to that; kiss the book: I will furnish
it anon with new contents swear.
By this good light, this is a very shallow monster!
I afeard of him! A very weak monster! The man i’
the moon! A most poor credulous monster! Well
drawn, monster, in good sooth!
I’ll show thee every fertile inch o’ th’ island;
And I will kiss thy foot: I prithee, be my god.
By this light, a most perfidious and drunken
monster! when ‘s god’s asleep, he’ll rob his bottle.
I’ll kiss thy foot; I’ll swear myself thy subject.
Come on then; down, and swear.
I shall laugh myself to death at this puppy-headed
monster. A most scurvy monster! I could find in my
heart to beat him,–
But that the poor monster’s in drink: an abominable monster!
I’ll show thee the best springs; I’ll pluck thee berries;
I’ll fish for thee and get thee wood enough.
A plague upon the tyrant that I serve!
I’ll bear him no more sticks, but follow thee,
Thou wondrous man.
A most ridiculous monster, to make a wonder of a
I prithee, let me bring thee where crabs grow;
And I with my long nails will dig thee pignuts;
Show thee a jay’s nest and instruct thee how
To snare the nimble marmoset; I’ll bring thee
To clustering filberts and sometimes I’ll get thee
Young scamels from the rock. Wilt thou go with me?
I prithee now, lead the way without any more
talking. Trinculo, the king and all our company
else being drowned, we will inherit here: here;
bear my bottle: fellow Trinculo, we’ll fill him by
and by again.
Farewell master; farewell, farewell!
A howling monster: a drunken monster!
No more dams I’ll make for fish
Nor fetch in firing
Nor scrape trencher, nor wash dish
‘Ban, ‘Ban, Cacaliban
Has a new master: get a new man.
Freedom, hey-day! hey-day, freedom! freedom,
O brave monster! Lead the way.
SCENE I. Before PROSPERO’S Cell.
Enter FERDINAND, bearing a log
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: O, she is
Ten times more gentle than her father’s crabbed,
And he’s composed of harshness. I must remove
Some thousands of these logs and pile them up,
Upon a sore injunction: my sweet mistress
Weeps when she sees me work, and says, such baseness
Had never like executor. I forget:
But these sweet thoughts do even refresh my labours,
Most busy lest, when I do it.
Enter MIRANDA; and PROSPERA at a distance, unseen
Alas, now, pray you,
Work not so hard: I would the lightning had
Burnt up those logs that you are enjoin’d to pile!
Pray, set it down and rest you: when this burns,
‘Twill weep for having wearied you. My father
Is hard at study; pray now, rest yourself;
He’s safe for these three hours.
O most dear mistress,
The sun will set before I shall discharge
What I must strive to do.
If you’ll sit down,
I’ll bear your logs the while: pray, give me that;
I’ll carry it to the pile.
No, precious creature;
I had rather crack my sinews, break my back,
Than you should such dishonour undergo,
While I sit lazy by.
It would become me
As well as it does you: and I should do it
With much more ease; for my good will is to it,
And yours it is against.
Poor worm, thou art infected!
This visitation shows it.
You look wearily.
No, noble mistress; ’tis fresh morning with me
When you are by at night. I do beseech you–
Chiefly that I might set it in my prayers–
What is your name?
Miranda.–O my father,
I have broke your hest to say so!
Indeed the top of admiration! worth
What’s dearest to the world! Full many a lady
I have eyed with best regard and many a time
The harmony of their tongues hath into bondage
Brought my too diligent ear: for several virtues
Have I liked several women; never any
With so fun soul, but some defect in her
Did quarrel with the noblest grace she owed
And put it to the foil: but you, O you,
So perfect and so peerless, are created
Of every creature’s best!
I do not know
One of my sex; no woman’s face remember,
Save, from my glass, mine own and my dear mother.
Nor have I seen
More that I may call men than you, good friend,
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. But I prattle
Something too wildly and my mother’s precepts
I therein do forget.
I am in my condition
A prince, Miranda; I do think, a king;
I would, not so!–and would no more endure
This wooden slavery than to suffer
The flesh-fly blow my mouth. Hear my soul speak:
The very instant that I saw you, did
My heart fly to your service; there resides,
To make me slave to it; and for your sake
Am I this patient log–man.
Do you love me?
O heaven, O earth, bear witness to this sound
And crown what I profess with kind event
If I speak true! if hollowly, invert
What best is boded me to mischief! I
Beyond all limit of what else i’ the world
Do love, prize, honour you.
I am a fool
To weep at what I am glad of.
Of two most rare affections! Heavens rain grace
On that which breeds between ’em!
Wherefore weep you?
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.
My mistress, dearest;
And I thus humble ever.
My husband, then?
Ay, with a heart as willing
As bondage e’er of freedom: here’s my hand.
And mine, with my heart in’t; and now farewell
Till half an hour hence.
A thousand thousand!
Exeunt FERDINAND and MIRANDA severally
So glad of this as they I cannot be,
Who are surprised withal; but my rejoicing
At nothing can be more. I’ll to my book,
For yet ere supper-time must I perform
Much business appertaining.
SCENE II. Another part of the island.
Enter CALIBAN, STEPHANO, and TRINCULO
Tell not me; when the butt is out, we will drink
water; not a drop before: therefore bear up, and
board ’em. Servant-monster, drink to me.
Servant-monster! the folly of this island! They
say there’s but five upon this isle: we are three
of them; if th’ other two be brained like us, the
Drink, servant-monster, when I bid thee: thy eyes
are almost set in thy head.
Where should they be set else? he were a brave
monster indeed, if they were set in his tail.
My man-monster hath drown’d his tongue in sack:
for my part, the sea cannot drown me; I swam, ere I
could recover the shore, five and thirty leagues off
and on. By this light, thou shalt be my lieutenant,
monster, or my standard.
Your lieutenant, if you list; he’s no standard.
We’ll not run, Monsieur Monster.
Nor go neither; but you’ll lie like dogs and yet say
Moon-calf, speak once in thy life, if thou beest a
How does thy honour? Let me lick thy shoe.
I’ll not serve him; he’s not valiant.
Thou liest, most ignorant monster: I am in case to
justle a constable. Why, thou deboshed fish thou,
was there ever man a coward that hath drunk so much
sack as I to-day? Wilt thou tell a monstrous lie,
being but half a fish and half a monster?
Lo, how he mocks me! wilt thou let him, my lord?
‘Lord’ quoth he! That a monster should be such a natural!
Lo, lo, again! bite him to death, I prithee.
Trinculo, keep a good tongue in your head: if you
prove a mutineer,–the next tree! The poor monster’s
my subject and he shall not suffer indignity.
I thank my noble lord. Wilt thou be pleased to
hearken once again to the suit I made to thee?
Marry, will I kneel and repeat it; I will stand,
and so shall Trinculo.
Enter ARIEL, invisible
As I told thee before, I am subject to a tyrant, a
sorcerer, that by his cunning hath cheated me of the island.
Thou liest, thou jesting monkey, thou: I would my
valiant master would destroy thee! I do not lie.
Trinculo, if you trouble him any more in’s tale, by
this hand, I will supplant some of your teeth.
Why, I said nothing.
Mum, then, and no more. Proceed.
I say, by sorcery he got this isle;
From me he got it. if thy greatness will
Revenge it on him,–for I know thou darest,
But this thing dare not,–
That’s most certain.
Thou shalt be lord of it and I’ll serve thee.
How now shall this be compassed?
Canst thou bring me to the party?
Yea, yea, my lord: I’ll yield him thee asleep,
Where thou mayst knock a nail into his bead.
Thou liest; thou canst not.
What a pied ninny’s this! Thou scurvy patch!
I do beseech thy greatness, give him blows
And take his bottle from him: when that’s gone
He shall drink nought but brine; for I’ll not show him
Where the quick freshes are.
Trinculo, run into no further danger:
interrupt the monster one word further, and,
by this hand, I’ll turn my mercy out o’ doors
and make a stock-fish of thee.
Why, what did I? I did nothing. I’ll go farther
Didst thou not say he lied?
Do I so? take thou that.
As you like this, give me the lie another time.
I did not give the lie. Out o’ your
wits and bearing too? A pox o’ your bottle!
this can sack and drinking do. A murrain on
your monster, and the devil take your fingers!
Ha, ha, ha!
Now, forward with your tale. Prithee, stand farther
Beat him enough: after a little time
I’ll beat him too.
Stand farther. Come, proceed.
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 wezand 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: they all do hate him
As rootedly as I. Burn but his books.
He has brave utensils,–for so he calls them–
Which when he has a house, he’ll deck withal
And that most deeply to consider is
The beauty of his daughter; he himself
Calls her a nonpareil: I never saw a woman,
But only Sycorax my dam and she;
But she as far surpasseth Sycorax
As great’st does least.
Is it so brave a lass?
Ay, lord; she will become thy bed, I warrant.
And bring thee forth brave brood.
Monster, I will kill this man: his daughter and I
will be king and queen–save our graces!–and
Trinculo and thyself shall be viceroys. Dost thou
like the plot, Trinculo?
Give me thy hand: I am sorry I beat thee; but,
while thou livest, keep a good tongue in thy head.
Within this half hour will he be asleep:
Wilt thou destroy him then?
Ay, on mine honour.
This will I tell my master.
Thou makest me merry; I am full of pleasure:
Let us be jocund: will you troll the catch
You taught me but while-ere?
At thy request, monster, I will do reason, any
reason. Come on, Trinculo, let us sing.
Flout ’em and scout ’em
And scout ’em and flout ’em
Thought is free.
That’s not the tune.
Ariel plays the tune on a tabour and pipe
What is this same?
This is the tune of our catch, played by the picture
If thou beest a man, show thyself in thy likeness:
if thou beest a devil, take’t as thou list.
O, forgive me my sins!
He that dies pays all debts: I defy thee. Mercy upon us!
Art thou afeard?
No, monster, not I.
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.
This will prove a brave kingdom to me, where I shall
have my music for nothing.
When Prospero is destroyed.
That shall be by and by: I remember the story.
The sound is going away; let’s follow it, and
after do our work.
Lead, monster; we’ll follow. I would I could see
this tabourer; he lays it on.
Wilt come? I’ll follow, Stephano.
SCENE III. Another part of the island.
Enter ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, ANTONIA, GONZALO, ADRIAN, FRANCISCO, and others
By’r lakin, I can go no further, sir;
My old bones ache: here’s a maze trod indeed
Through forth-rights and meanders! By your patience,
I needs must rest me.
Old lord, I cannot blame thee,
Who am myself attach’d with weariness,
To the dulling of my spirits: sit down, and rest.
Even here I will put off my hope and keep it
No longer for my flatterer: he is drown’d
Whom thus we stray to find, and the sea mocks
Our frustrate search on land. Well, let him go.
[Aside to SEBASTIAN] I am right glad that he’s so
out of hope.
Do not, for one repulse, forego the purpose
That you resolved to effect.
[Aside to ANTONIA] The next advantage
Will we take throughly.
[Aside to SEBASTIAN] Let it be to-night;
For, now they are oppress’d with travel, they
Will not, nor cannot, use such vigilance
As when they are fresh.
[Aside to ANTONIA] I say, to-night: no more.
Solemn and strange music
What harmony is this? My good friends, hark!
Marvellous sweet music!
Enter PROSPERA above, invisible. Enter several strange Shapes, bringing in a banquet; they dance about it with gentle actions of salutation; and, inviting the King, & c. to eat, they depart
Give us kind keepers, heavens! What were these?
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.
I’ll believe both;
And what does else want credit, come to me,
And I’ll be sworn ’tis true: travellers ne’er did
Though fools at home condemn ’em.
If in Naples
I should report this now, would they believe me?
If I should say, I saw such islanders–
For, certes, these are people of the island–
Who, though they are of monstrous shape, yet, note,
Their manners are more gentle-kind than of
Our human generation you shall find
Many, nay, almost any.
[Aside] Honest lord,
Thou hast said well; for some of you there present
Are worse than devils.
I cannot too much muse
Such shapes, such gesture and such sound, expressing,
Although they want the use of tongue, a kind
Of excellent dumb discourse.
[Aside] Praise in departing.
They vanish’d strangely.
No matter, since
They have left their viands behind; for we have stomachs.
Will’t please you taste of what is here?
Faith, sir, you need not fear. When we were boys,
Who would believe that there were mountaineers
Dew-lapp’d like bulls, whose throats had hanging at ’em
Wallets of flesh? or that there were such men
Whose heads stood in their breasts? which now we find
Each putter-out of five for one will bring us
Good warrant of.
I will stand to and feed,
Although my last: no matter, since I feel
The best is past. Brother, my lord the duke,
Stand to and do as we.
Thunder and lightning. Enter ARIEL, like a harpy; claps his wings upon the table; and, with a quaint device, the banquet vanishes
You are three men of sin, whom Destiny,
That hath to instrument this lower world
And what is in’t, the never-surfeited sea
Hath caused to belch up you; and on this island
Where man doth not inhabit; you ‘mongst men
Being most unfit to live. I have made you mad;
And even with such-like valour men hang and drown
Their proper selves.
ALONSO, SEBASTIAN & co. draw their weapons
You fools! I and my fellows
Are ministers of Fate: the elements,
Of whom your swords are temper’d, may as well
Wound the loud winds, or with bemock’d-at stabs
Kill the still-closing waters, as diminish
One dowle that’s in my plume: my fellow-ministers
Are like invulnerable. If you could hurt,
Your swords are now too massy for your strengths
And will not be uplifted. But remember–
For that’s my business to you–that you three
From Milan did supplant good Prospero;
Exposed unto the sea, which hath requit it,
Him and his innocent child: for which foul deed
The powers, delaying, not forgetting, have
Incensed the seas and shores, yea, all the creatures,
Against your peace. Thee of thy son, Alonso,
They have bereft; and do pronounce by me:
Lingering perdition, worse than any death
Can be at once, shall step by step attend
You and your ways.
He vanishes in thunder; then, to soft music enter the Shapes again, and dance, with mocks and mows, and carrying out the table
Bravely the figure of this harpy hast thou
Perform’d, my Ariel; a grace it had, devouring:
Of my instruction hast thou nothing bated
In what thou hadst to say: so, with good life
And observation strange, my meaner ministers
Their several kinds have done. My high charms work
And these mine enemies are all knit up
In their distractions; they now are in my power;
And in these fits I leave them, while I visit
Young Ferdinand, whom they suppose is drown’d,
And his and mine loved darling.
I’ the name of something holy, sir, why stand you
In this strange stare?
O, it is monstrous, monstrous:
Methought the billows spoke and told me of it;
The winds did sing it to me, and the thunder,
That deep and dreadful organ-pipe, pronounced
The name of Prosper: it did bass my trespass.
Therefore my son i’ the ooze is bedded, and
I’ll seek him deeper than e’er plummet sounded
And with him there lie mudded.
But one fiend at a time,
I’ll fight their legions o’er.
I’ll be thy second.
Exeunt SEBASTIAN, and ANTONIA
All three of them are desperate: their great guilt,
Like poison given to work a great time after,
Now ‘gins to bite the spirits. I do beseech you
That are of suppler joints, follow them swiftly
And hinder them from what this ecstasy
May now provoke them to.
Follow, I pray you.
SCENE I. Before PROSPERO’S cell.
Enter PROSPERA, FERDINAND, and MIRANDA
If I have too austerely punish’d you,
Your compensation makes amends, for I
Have given you here a third of mine own life,
Or that for which I live; who once again
I tender to thy hand: all thy vexations
Were but my 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 her off,
For thou shalt find she will outstrip all praise
And make it halt behind her.
I do believe it
Against an oracle.
Then, as my gift and thine own acquisition
Worthily purchased take my daughter: but
If thou dost break her virgin-knot before
All sanctimonious ceremonies may
With full and holy rite be minister’d,
No sweet aspersion shall the heavens let fall
To make this contract grow: but barren hate,
Sour-eyed disdain and discord shall bestrew
The union of your bed with weeds so loathly
That you shall hate it both: therefore take heed,
As Hymen’s lamps shall light you.
As I hope
For quiet days, fair issue and long life,
With such love as ’tis now, the murkiest den,
The most opportune place, the strong’st suggestion.
Our worser genius can, shall never melt
Mine honour into lust, to take away
The edge of that day’s celebration.
Sit then and talk with her; she is thine own.
What, Ariel! my industrious servant, Ariel!
What would my potent master? here I am.
Thou and thy meaner fellows your last service
Did worthily perform; and I must use you
In such another trick. Go bring the rabble,
O’er whom I give thee power, here to this place:
Incite them to quick motion; for I must
Bestow upon the eyes of this young couple
Some vanity of mine art: it is my promise,
And they expect it from me.
Ay, with a twink.
Before you can say ‘come’ and ‘go,’
And breathe twice and cry ‘so, so,’
Each one, tripping on his toe,
Will be here with mop and mow.
Do you love me, master? no?
Dearly my delicate Ariel. Do not approach
Till thou dost hear me call.
Well, I conceive.
Look thou be true; do not give dalliance
Too much the rein: the strongest oaths are straw
To the fire i’ the blood: be more abstemious,
Or else, good night your vow!
I warrant you sir;
The white cold virgin snow upon my heart
Abates the ardour of my liver.
Now come, my Ariel! bring a corollary,
Rather than want a spirit: appear and pertly!
No tongue! all eyes! be silent.
Ceres, most bounteous lady, thy rich leas
Of wheat, rye, barley, vetches, oats and pease;
Thy turfy mountains, where live nibbling sheep,
And flat meads thatch’d with stover, them to keep;
Thy banks with pioned and twilled brims,
Which spongy April at thy hest betrims,
To make cold nymphs chaste crowns; and thy broom -groves,
Whose shadow the dismissed bachelor loves,
Being lass-lorn: thy pole-clipt vineyard;
And thy sea-marge, sterile and rocky-hard,
Where thou thyself dost air;–the queen o’ the sky,
Whose watery arch and messenger am I,
Bids thee leave these, and with her sovereign grace,
Here on this grass-plot, in this very place,
To come and sport: her peacocks fly amain:
Approach, rich Ceres, her to entertain.
Hail, many-colour’d messenger, that ne’er
Dost disobey the wife of Jupiter;
Who with thy saffron wings upon my flowers
Diffusest honey-drops, refreshing showers,
And with each end of thy blue bow dost crown
My bosky acres and my unshrubb’d down,
Rich scarf to my proud earth; why hath thy queen
Summon’d me hither, to this short-grass’d green?
A contract of true love to celebrate;
And some donation freely to estate
On the blest lovers.
Tell me, heavenly bow,
If Venus or her son, as thou dost know,
Do now attend the queen? Since they did plot
The means that dusky Dis my daughter got,
Her and her blind boy’s scandal’d company
I have forsworn.
Of her society
Be not afraid: I met her deity
Cutting the clouds towards Paphos and her son
Dove-drawn with her. Here thought they to have done
Some wanton charm upon this man and maid,
Whose vows are, that no bed-right shall be paid
Till Hymen’s torch be lighted: but vain;
Mars’s hot minion is returned again;
Her waspish-headed son has broke his arrows,
Swears he will shoot no more but play with sparrows
And be a boy right out.
High’st queen of state,
Great Juno, comes; I know her by her gait.
How does my bounteous sister? Go with me
To bless this twain, that they may prosperous be
And honour’d in their issue.
Honour, riches, marriage-blessing,
Long continuance, and increasing,
Hourly joys be still upon you!
Juno sings her blessings upon you.
Earth’s increase, foison plenty,
Barns and garners never empty,
Vines and clustering bunches growing,
Plants with goodly burthen bowing;
Spring come to you at the farthest
In the very end of harvest!
Scarcity and want shall shun you;
Ceres’ blessing so is on you.
This is a most majestic vision, and
Harmoniously charmingly. May I be bold
To think these spirits?
Spirits, which by mine art
I have from their confines call’d to enact
My present fancies.
Let me live here ever;
So rare a wonder’d mother and a wife
Makes this place Paradise.
Juno and Ceres whisper, and send Iris on employment
Sweet, now, silence!
Juno and Ceres whisper seriously;
There’s something else to do: hush, and be mute,
Or else our spell is marr’d.
You nymphs, call’d Naiads, of the windring brooks,
With your sedged crowns and ever-harmless looks,
Leave your crisp channels and on this green land
Answer your summons; Juno does command:
Come, temperate nymphs, and help to celebrate
A contract of true love; be not too late.
PROSPERA starts suddenly, and speaks;
PROSPERA Well done! Avoid! No more!
After which, to a strange, hollow, and confused noise, they heavily vanish
[Aside] I had forgot that foul conspiracy
Of the beast Caliban and his confederates
Against my life: the minute of their plot
Is almost come.
This is strange: your father’s in some passion
That works him strongly.
Never till this day
Saw I him touch’d with anger so distemper’d.
You do look, my son, in a moved sort,
As if you were dismay’d: be cheerful, sir.
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-capp’d towers, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Ye 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. Sir, I am vex’d;
Bear with my weakness; my, brain is troubled:
Be not disturb’d with my infirmity:
If you be pleased, retire into my cell
And there repose: a turn or two I’ll walk,
To still my beating mind.
We wish your peace.
Come with a thought I thank thee, Ariel: come.
Thy thoughts I cleave to. What’s thy pleasure?
We must prepare to meet with Caliban.
Ay, my commander: when I presented Ceres,
I thought to have told thee of it, but I fear’d
Lest I might anger thee.
Say again, where didst thou leave these varlets?
I told you, sir, they were red-hot with drinking;
So fun of valour that they smote the air
For breathing in their faces; beat the ground
For kissing of their feet; yet always bending
Towards their project. Then I beat my tabour;
At which, like unback’d colts, they prick’d
Advanced their eyelids, lifted up their noses
As they smelt music: so I charm’d their ears
That calf-like they my lowing follow’d through
Tooth’d briers, sharp furzes, pricking goss and thorns,
Which entered their frail shins: at last I left them
I’ the filthy-mantled pool beyond your cell,
There dancing up to the chins, that the foul lake
O’erstunk their feet.
This was well done, my bird.
Thy shape invisible retain thou still:
The trumpery in my house, go bring it hither,
For stale to catch these thieves.
I go, I go.
A devil, a born devil, on whose nature
Nurture can never stick; on whom my pains,
Humanely taken, all, all lost, quite lost;
And as with age his body uglier grows,
So his mind cankers. I will plague them all,
Even to roaring.
Re-enter ARIEL, loaden with glistering apparel, & c
Come, hang them on this line.
PROSPERA and ARIEL remain invisible. Enter CALIBAN, STEPHANO, and TRINCULO, all wet
Pray you, tread softly, that the blind mole may not
Hear a foot fall: we now are near his cell.
Monster, your fairy, which you say is
a harmless fairy, has done little better than
played the Jack with us.
Monster, I do smell all horse-piss; at
which my nose is in great indignation.
So is mine. Do you hear, monster? If I should take
a displeasure against you, look you,–
Thou wert but a lost monster.
Good my lord, give me thy favour still.
Be patient, for the prize I’ll bring thee to
Shall hoodwink this mischance: therefore speak softly.
All’s hush’d as midnight yet.
Ay, but to lose our bottles in the pool,–
There is not only disgrace and dishonour in that,
monster, but an infinite loss.
That’s more to me than my wetting: yet this is your
harmless fairy, monster.
I will fetch off my bottle, though I be o’er ears
for my labour.
Prithee, my king, be quiet. Seest thou here,
This is the mouth o’ the cell: no noise, and enter.
Do that good mischief which may make this island
Thine own for ever, and I, thy Caliban,
For aye thy foot-licker.
Give me thy hand. I do begin to have bloody thoughts.
O king Stephano! O peer! O worthy Stephano! look
what a wardrobe here is for thee!
Let it alone, thou fool; it is but trash.
O, ho, monster! we know what belongs to a frippery.
O king Stephano!
Put off that gown, Trinculo; by this hand, I’ll have
Thy grace shall have it.
The dropsy drown this fool I what do you mean
To dote thus on such luggage? Let’s alone
And do the murder first: if he awake,
From toe to crown he’ll fill our skins with pinches,
Make us strange stuff.
Be you quiet, monster. Mistress line,
is not this my jerkin? Now is the jerkin under
the line: now, jerkin, you are like to lose your
hair and prove a bald jerkin.
Do, do: we steal by line and level, an’t like your grace.
I thank thee for that jest; here’s a garment for’t:
wit shall not go unrewarded while I am king of this
country. ‘Steal by line and level’ is an excellent
pass of pate; there’s another garment for’t.
Monster, come, put some lime upon your fingers, and
away with the rest.
I will have none on’t: we shall lose our time,
And all be turn’d to barnacles, or to apes
With foreheads villanous low.
Monster, lay-to your fingers: help to bear this
away where my hogshead of wine is, or I’ll turn you
out of my kingdom: go to, carry this.
Ay, and this.
A noise of hunters heard. Enter divers Spirits, in shape of dogs and hounds, and hunt them about, PROSPERO and ARIEL setting them on
Hey, Mountain, hey!
Silver I there it goes, Silver!
Fury, Fury! there, Tyrant, there! hark! hark!
CALIBAN, STEPHANO, and TRINCULO, are driven out
Go charge my goblins that they grind their joints
With dry convulsions, shorten up their sinews
With aged cramps, and more pinch-spotted make them
Than pard or cat o’ mountain.
Hark, they roar!
Let them be hunted soundly. At this hour
Lie at my mercy all mine enemies:
Shortly shall all my labours end, and thou
Shalt have the air at freedom: for a little
Follow, and do me service.
SCENE I. Before PROSPERA’S cell.
Enter PROSPERA in her magic robes, and ARIEL
Now does my project gather to a head:
My charms crack not; my spirits obey; and time
Goes upright with his carriage. How’s the day?
On the sixth hour; at which time, my lord,
You said our work should cease.
I did say so,
When first I raised the tempest. Say, my spirit,
How fares the king and’s followers?
In the same fashion as you gave in charge,
Just as you left them; all prisoners, sir,
In the line-grove which weather-fends your cell;
They cannot budge till your release. The king,
His brother and yours, abide all three distracted
And the remainder mourning over them,
Brimful of sorrow and dismay; but chiefly
Him that you term’d, sir, ‘The good old lord Gonzalo;’
His tears run down his beard, like winter’s drops
From eaves of reeds. Your charm so strongly works ’em
That if you now beheld them, your affections
Would become tender.
Dost thou think so, spirit?
Mine would, sir, were I human.
And mine shall.
Hast thou, which art but air, a touch, a feeling
Of their afflictions, and shall not myself,
One of their kind, that relish all as sharply,
Passion as they, be kindlier moved than thou art?
Though with their high wrongs I am struck to the quick,
Yet with my nobler reason ‘gainst my fury
Do I take part: the rarer action is
In virtue than in vengeance: they being penitent,
The sole drift of my purpose doth extend
Not a frown further. Go release them, Ariel:
My charms I’ll break, their senses I’ll restore,
And they shall be themselves.
I’ll fetch them, sir.
Ye elves of hills, brooks, standing lakes and groves,
And ye that on the sands with printless foot
Do chase the ebbing Neptune and do fly him
When he comes back; you demi-puppets that
By moonshine do the green sour ringlets make,
Whereof the ewe not bites, and you whose pastime
Is to make midnight mushrooms, that rejoice
To hear the solemn curfew; by whose aid,
Weak masters though ye be, I have bedimm’d
The noontide sun, call’d forth the mutinous winds,
And ‘twixt the green sea and the azured vault
Set roaring war: to the dread rattling thunder
Have I given fire and rifted Jove’s stout oak
With his own bolt; the strong-based promontory
Have I made shake and by the spurs pluck’d up
The pine and cedar: graves at my command
Have waked their sleepers, oped, and let ’em forth
By my so potent art. But this rough magic
I here abjure, and, when I have required
Some heavenly music, which even now I do,
To work mine end upon their senses that
This airy charm is for, I’ll break my staff,
Bury it certain fathoms in the earth,
And deeper than did ever plummet sound
I’ll drown my book.
Re-enter ARIEL before: then ALONSO, with a frantic gesture, attended by GONZALO; SEBASTIAN and ANTONIA in like manner, attended by ADRIAN and FRANCISCO they all enter the circle which PROSPERA had made, and there stand charmed; which PROSPERA observing, speaks:
A solemn air and the best comforter
To an unsettled fancy cure thy brains,
Now useless, boiled within thy skull! There stand,
For you are spell-stopped.
Holy Gonzalo, honourable man,
Mine eyes, even sociable to the show of thine,
Fall fellowly drops. The charm dissolves apace,
And as the morning steals upon the night,
Melting the darkness, so their rising senses
Begin to chase the ignorant fumes that mantle
Their clearer reason. O good Gonzalo,
My true preserver, and a loyal sir
To him you follow’st! I will pay thy graces
Home both in word and deed. Most cruelly
Didst thou, Alonso, use me and my daughter:
Thy brother was a furtherer in the act.
Thou art pinched for’t now, Sebastian. Flesh and blood,
You, sister mine, that entertained ambition,
Expelled remorse and nature; who, with Sebastian,
Whose inward pinches therefore are most strong,
Would here have killed your king; I do forgive thee,
Unnatural though thou art. Their understanding
Begins to swell, and the approaching tide
Will shortly fill the reasonable shore
That now lies foul and muddy. Not one of them
That yet looks on me, or would know me Ariel,
Fetch me the hat and rapier in my cell:
I will discase me, and myself present
As I was sometime Milan: quickly, spirit;
Thou shalt ere long be free.
ARIEL sings and helps to attire her.
Where the bee sucks. there suck I:
In a cowslip’s bell I lie;
There I couch when owls do cry.
On the bat’s back I do fly
After summer merrily.
Merrily, merrily shall I live now
Under the blossom that hangs on the bough.
Why, that’s my dainty Ariel! I shall miss thee:
But yet thou shalt have freedom: so, so, so.
To the king’s ship, invisible as thou art:
There shalt thou find the mariners asleep
Under the hatches; the master and the boatswain
Being awake, enforce them to this place,
And presently, I prithee.
I drink the air before me, and return
Or ere your pulse twice beat.
All torment, trouble, wonder and amazement
Inhabits here: some heavenly power guide us
Out of this fearful country!
Behold, sir king,
The wronged Duke of Milan, Prospera:
For more assurance that a living prince
Does now speak to thee, I embrace thy body;
And to thee and thy company I bid
A hearty welcome.
Whether thou best he or no,
Or some enchanted trifle to abuse me,
As late I have been, I not know: thy pulse
Beats as of flesh and blood; and, since I saw thee,
The affliction of my mind amends, with which,
I fear, a madness held me: this must crave,
An if this be at all, a most strange story.
Thy dukedom I resign and do entreat
Thou pardon me my wrongs. But how should Prospero
Be living and be here?
First, noble friend,
Let me embrace thine age, whose honour cannot
Be measured or confined.
Whether this be
Or be not, I’ll not swear.
You do yet taste
Some subtleties o’ the isle, that will not let you
Believe things certain. Welcome, my friends all!
Aside to SEBASTIAN and ANTONIA
But you, my brace of lords, were I so minded,
I here could pluck his highness’ frown upon you
And justify you traitors: at this time
I will tell no tales.
[Aside] The devil speaks in him.
For you, most wicked sir, whom to call 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.
If thou be’st Prospera,
Give us particulars of thy preservation;
How thou hast met us here, who three hours since
Were wrecked upon this shore; where I have lost–
How sharp the point of this remembrance is!–
My dear son Ferdinand.
I am woe for’t, sir.
Irreparable is the loss, and patience
Says it is past her cure.
I rather think
You have not sought her help, of whose soft grace
For the like loss I have her sovereign aid
And rest myself content.
You the like loss!
As great to me as late; and, supportable
To make the dear loss, have I means much weaker
Than you may call to comfort you, for I
Have lost my daughter.
O heavens, that they were living both in Naples,
The king and queen there! that they were, I wish
Myself were mudded in that oozy bed
Where my son lies. When did you lose your daughter?
In this last tempest. But, howsoe’er you have
Been justled from your senses, know for certain
That I am Prospera and that very duke
Which was thrust forth of Milan, who most strangely
Upon this shore, where you were wreck’d, was landed,
To be the lord on’t.
This cell’s my court: here have I few attendants
And subjects none abroad: pray you, look in.
My dukedom since you have given me again,
I will requite you with as good a thing;
At least bring forth a wonder, to content ye
As much as me my dukedom.
Here PROSPERA discovers FERDINAND and MIRANDA playing at chess
Sweet lord, you play me false.
No, my dear’st love,
I would not for the world.
Yes, for a score of kingdoms you should wrangle,
And I would call it, fair play.
If this prove
A vision of the Island, one dear son
Shall I twice lose.
A most high miracle!
Though the seas threaten, they are merciful;
I have cursed them without cause.
Now all the blessings
Of a glad father compass thee about!
Arise, and say how thou camest here.
How many goodly creatures are there here!
How beauteous mankind is! O brave new world,
That has such people in’t!
‘Tis new to thee.
What is this maid with whom thou wast at play?
Your eld’st acquaintance cannot be three hours:
Is she the goddess that hath severed us,
And brought us thus together?
Sir, she is mortal;
But by immortal Providence she’s mine:
I chose her when I could not ask my father
For his advice, nor thought I had one. She
Is daughter to this famous Duke of Milan,
Of whom so often I have heard renown,
But never saw before; of whom I have
Received a second life; and second father
This lady makes him to me.
I am hers:
But, O, how oddly will it sound that I
Must ask my child forgiveness!
There, sir, stop:
Let us not burthen our remembrance with
A heaviness that’s gone.
I have inly wept,
Or should have spoke ere this. Look down, you god,
And on this couple drop a blessed crown!
For it is you that have chalk’d forth the way
Which brought us hither.
I say, Amen, Gonzalo!
Was Milan thrust from Milan, that his issue
Should become kings of Naples? O, rejoice
Beyond a common joy, and set it down
With gold on lasting pillars: In one voyage
Did Claribel her husband find at Tunis,
And Ferdinand, her brother, found a wife
Where he himself was lost, Prospero his dukedom
In a poor isle and all of us ourselves
When no man was his own.
[To FERDINAND and MIRANDA] Give me your hands:
Let grief and sorrow still embrace his heart
That doth not wish you joy!
Be it so! Amen!
Re-enter ARIEL, with the Master and Boatswain amazedly following
O, look, sir, look, sir! here is more of us:
I prophesied, if a gallows were on land,
This fellow could not drown. Now, blasphemy,
That swear’st grace o’erboard, not an oath on shore?
Hast thou no mouth by land? What is the news?
The best news is, that we have safely found
Our king and company; the next, our ship–
Which, but three glasses since, we gave out split–
Is tight and yare and bravely rigged as when
We first put out to sea.
[Aside to PROSPERO] Sir, all this service
Have I done since I went.
[Aside to ARIEL] My tricksy spirit!
These are not natural events; they strengthen
From strange to stranger. Say, how came you hither?
If I did think, sir, I were well awake,
I’ld strive to tell you. We were dead of sleep,
And–how we know not–all clapped under hatches;
Where but even now with strange and several noises
Of roaring, shrieking, howling, jingling chains,
And more diversity of sounds, all horrible,
We were awaked; straightway, at liberty;
Where we, in all her trim, freshly beheld
Our royal, good and gallant ship, our master
Capering to eye her: on a trice, so please you,
Even in a dream, were we divided from them
And were brought moping hither.
[Aside to PROSPERA] Was’t well done?
[Aside to ARIEL] Bravely, my diligence. Thou shalt be free.
This is as strange a maze as e’er men trod
And there is in this business more than nature
Was ever conduct of: some oracle
Must rectify our knowledge.
Sir, my liege,
Do not infest your mind with beating on
The strangeness of this business; at picked leisure
Which shall be shortly, single I’ll resolve you,
Which to you shall seem probable, of every
These happened accidents; till when, be cheerful
And think of each thing well.
Aside to ARIEL
Come hither, spirit:
Set Caliban and his companions free;
Untie the spell.
How fares my gracious sir?
There are yet missing of your company
Some few odd lads that you remember not.
Re-enter ARIEL, driving in CALIBAN, STEPHANO and TRINCULO, in their stolen apparel
Every man shift for all the rest, and
let no man take care for himself; for all is
but fortune. Coragio, bully-monster, coragio!
If these be true spies which I wear in my head,
here’s a goodly sight.
O Setebos, these be brave spirits indeed!
How fine my mistress is! I am afraid
She will chastise me.
What things are these, my lord Antonio?
Will money buy ’em?
Very like; one of them
Is a plain fish, and, no doubt, marketable.
Mark but the badges of these men, my lords,
Then say if they be true. This mis-shapen knave,
His mother was a witch, and one so strong
That could control the moon, make flows and ebbs,
And deal in her command without her power.
These three have robb’d me; and this demi-devil–
For he’s a bastard one–had plotted with them
To take my life. Two of these fellows you
Must know and own; this thing of darkness!
I shall be pinch’d to death.
Is not this Stephano, my drunken butler?
He is drunk now: where had he wine?
And Trinculo is reeling ripe: where should they
Find this grand liquor that hath gilded ’em?
How camest thou in this pickle?
I have been in such a pickle since I
saw you last that, I fear me, will never out of
my bones: I shall not fear fly-blowing.
Why, how now, Stephano!
O, touch me not; I am not Stephano, but a cramp.
You’ld be king o’ the isle, sirrah?
I should have been a sore one then.
This is a strange thing as e’er I look’d on.
Pointing to Caliban
He is as disproportion’d in his manners
As in his shape. Go, sirrah, to my cell;
Take with you your companions; as you look
To have my pardon, trim it handsomely.
Ay, that I will; and I’ll be wise hereafter
And seek for grace. What a thrice-double ass
Was I, to take this drunkard for a god
And worship this dull fool!
Go to; away!
Hence, and bestow your luggage where you found it.
Or stole it, rather.
Exeunt CALIBAN, STEPHANO, and TRINCULO
Sir, I invite your highness and your train
To my poor cell, where you shall take your rest
For this one night; which, part of it, I’ll waste
With such discourse as, I not doubt, shall make it
Go quick away; the story of my life
And the particular accidents gone by
Since I came to this isle: and in the morn
I’ll bring you to your ship and so to Naples,
Where I have hope to see the nuptial
Of these our dear-beloved solemnized;
And thence retire me to my Milan, where
Every third thought shall be my grave.
To hear the story of your life, which must
Take the ear strangely.
I’ll deliver all;
And promise you calm seas, auspicious gales
And sail so expeditious that shall catch
Your royal fleet far off.
Aside to ARIEL
My Ariel, chick,
That is thy charge: then to the elements
Be free, and fare thou well! Please you, draw near.
SPOKEN BY PROSPERA
Now my charms are all o’erthrown,
And what strength I have’s mine own,
Which is most faint: now, ’tis true,
I must be here confined by you,
Or sent to Naples. Let me not,
Since I have my dukedom got
And pardoned the deceiver, dwell
In this bare island by your spell;
But release me from my bands
With the help of your good hands:
Gentle breath of yours my sails
Must fill, or else my project fails,
Which was to please. Now I want
Spirits to enforce, art to enchant,
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.
“The Tempest” – Cast
Alonso, King of Naples Phil Newton
Sebastian, Alonso’s brother Steve Williams
Prospera Lucy Smith
Antonia, usurper of Prospera’s title Bizz Portlock
Ferdinand, son of Alonso Iain Drennan
Gonzalo, honest old councillor Paul Friett
Adrian, lord of Alonso’s court Ben Newton
Caliban Ben Dangerfield
Trinculo, witty jester Steve Fenlon
Stephano, drunken butler John Turnbull
Miranda, Prospera’s daughter Kate Peters
Ariel, Prospera’s industrious servant Helena Simpson
Iris, Goddess character in the masque Jenny Armstrong
Ceres, another Goddess Helena Simpson
Juno, another Goddess Shari Newton
Boatswain Christopher Franks
Master of the ship Steve Fenlon
Shapes John T, Steve F, Ben D and Christopher F
The Tempest at Underriver, 2018
Set:Similar to that of “Macbeth” in 2017 with flats at the back, with a gap in the middle and steps back centre, left and right, covered by a flat each, but with the addition of two flats one DSR and one DSL which are covered in gauze so that they can be lit from behind to reveal characters mentioned by Prospera in her 1.2 exposition of matters past and the revealing of Miranda and Ferdinand playing chess in Act 5.
Behind this stage I would like the main changing tent to be set up. This means the stage will be nearer the audience than last year.
I did tell John that I would do without the bridge into next door’s garden, but I have had a re-think and would like to use it this year with the householder’s permission. Sorry to add to the work.
The two special items that need constructing are a ship’s wheel for Act 1, Scene 1 and the banquet table with the vanishing goodies that occurs in Act 3, Scene 2 . I envisage some stuck down items of food on a table split down the middle which collapses inward when some restraining device is removed while the audience’s point of view is distracted by a pyro and Ariel’s wild gestures.
Act 1, Scene 1: On a ship in a storm. Played out on the stage. Ship’s wheel struck as the ship goes down.Scene 2: On the island before Prospera’s cell. Played out on the grass in front of the stage. A rough stool for Miranda to sit on (she’s got a lot to listen to). Characters Prospera refers to appear on stage behind the gauze. Ferdinand comes over the bridge.
Act 2: Two dispersed locations on the island. Courtiers play Scene 1 on the grass in front of the stage, having come across the bridge from next door. They exit DSL to tent.
Scene 2: Caliban comes on from tent to DSR and delivers soliloquy on grass in front of stage. Goes onto stage front to hide from Trinculo, who comes over bridge. Trinculo does early part of scene on grass with Stephano, then goes onto stage front when they discover Caliban. Rest of scene done on stage, then exit DSL to tent.
Act 3: Three dispersed locations on the island.
Scene 1: Ferdinand and Miranda’s scene on grass in front of stage is observed by Prospera who stands at gap in back wall of stage. Ferdinand goes off DSR and Miranda DSL to tent. Prospera exits USC to tent.
Scene 2: Caliban, Trinculo and Stephano enter from tent and play scene on grass in front of stage. Ariel arrives USC. They all exit to tent.
Scene 3: Courtiers come from tent to grass area in front of stage. Strange creatures reveal a banquet on stage, which subsequently vanishes. Prospera watches this from a distance while the courtiers stand entranced by Ariel. The feast is removed, the Courtiers regain their senses and exeunt to tent.
Act 4: Prospera’s Cell. Scene conducted on stage. Masque performed on grass in front of stage. Goddesses arrive from the tent. Ariel “represents Ceres”, so a quick change is needed. He re-appears quite quickly afterwards, so another rapid change is necessary. He also arrives, later, “laden with glittering apparel” Prospera instructs him to “hang them on this line”, but if we have a table at the back of the set throughout, the apparel could go there. Caliban, Stephano and Trinculo arrive DSR from the tent “all wet” and T & S try on the apparel, but are driven off by “fierce dogs” (sound effects) while Prospera and Ariel watch from a distance (probably USC).
Act 5: Before Prospera’s Cell. A short musical interlude and Prospera returns USC dressed in her magic robes with Ariel in close attendance. Ariel brings on the Courtiers from the tent to stand in a circle on grass in front of stage. Ariel dresses Prospera in the hat and rapier that was her Duke of Milan finery. Prospera tells the Courtiers their fortune, then reveals Ferdinand and Miranda playing chess behind the gauze. (They might need to be miked up). Ferdinand and Miranda come forward. Ferdinand comes down onto the grass to greet his father. Miranda stays on stage with Prospera. She comes down off the stage to meet Alonso. Boatswain is brought on by Ariel from tent. Ariel brings on Caliban, Stephano and Trinculo from tent to grass in front of stage for their chastisement. Prospera announces Ariel’s freedom and it would be nice if we could send him into space. John has an idea, but we’d need the help of some helium. All but Prospera exit for Prospera’s epilogue which is given from the stage. It would be nice if we could make her vanish, leaving only her cloak behind. I need to consult a friend about this.
Curtain call. All on from tent to in front of stage. Prospera, Ariel, Miranda, Ferdinand and Ariel on from USC.
“The Tempest” Plot Summary
ON A SHIP AND ON AN ISLAND BEFORE PROSPERA’S CELL.
Scene 1. A ship carrying King Alonso of Naples and his court encounters a fierce storm and looks doomed to sink. The nobles engage in a furious argument with the sailors about their seamanship. Eventually the ship goes down (it seems).
Scene 2. On an island nearby, Prospera, its ruler, is delighted that her magic has caused the ship’s “destruction”. Her daughter Miranda, however, is upset with her mother’s reaction to the tragedy. Prospera reveals to Miranda that she was once the Duke of Milan and that, more interested in books than power, she had allowed her scheming sister, Antonia, to govern in her name. But Antonia had conspired with Alonso to oust her from her dukedom. Prospera had been too popular to be murdered, so she and Miranda had been set adrift in a leaking boat which had brought them to the island. Now, Prospera explains, with Alonso’s fleet nearby, she has ordered her slave spirit Ariel to conjure up a storm which has brought her enemies under her spell.
Ariel reports the ship is safe and all its passengers alive, though the rest of the fleet have returned to Naples believing Alonso and his son, Ferdinand, have perished. Ariel reminds Prospera of her promise to free him, but the sorcerer is in an irritable mood. She reminds Ariel that when she arrived on the island Ariel was enslaved to the witch Sycorax, even though the old hag had died and Ariel was imprisoned in a pine tree. Prospera promises to release Ariel into freedom if he completes a few more tasks.
Caliban, the monster son of Sycorax, curses the slavery that Prospera has condemned him to, but Prospera reminds him that he had been treated well at first until he had tried to rape Miranda. Something he remembers with great relish.
Eager to please, Ariel returns with Ferdinand, Alonso’s son, in tow. Ariel is invisible to all but Prospera, but Ferdinand follows Ariel’s singing and is led into Miranda’s sight and she falls in love with him immediately. Ferdinand is similarly smitten and says he will make Miranda Queen of Naples, but Prospera declares Ferdinand his prisoner and when the young man tries to resist Prospera uses her magic to immobilise him. Miranda protests, but Ferdinand regards Miranda as welcome consolation.
TWO DISPERSED LOCATIONS ON THE ISLAND.
Scene 1. Having swum ashore with his courtiers, Alonso is distraught over the apparent loss of his son Ferdinand. A lord tells him that he saw him swimming towards shore, but Alonso is unconvinced. Sebastian, Alonso’s brother and Antonia, Prospera’s usurper make light of the shipwreck. When Gonzalo, a decent old nobleman, imagines ruling a paradise island they taunt him. Invisible to this group, Ariel plays music that puts them all but Sebastian and Antonia to sleep. As the two left awake view the sleeping king, Antonia encourages Sebastian to kill his brother so that he can become King of Naples. But Ariel sings in Gonzalo’s ear and the group awakes before the villains can act.
Scene 2. Elsewhere on the island, Trinculo, the comic, discovers Caliban and is horrified by his appearance and his smell! They are joined by Stephano, Alonso’s drunken bar steward who boasts about the wine he has rescued from the sunken ship. Caliban is given wine to drink. He loves it and is intoxicated by it and proclaims Stephano to be a God and kisses his feet. Seeing an opportunity to be free of Prospera’s tyranny, he offers to show Trinculo and Stephano all the delights of the island. Thinking Alonso to be drowned, Stephano imagines himself as King Stephano. The dissolute trio set off to explore his new kingdom.
THREE DISPERSED LOCATIONS ON THE ISLAND
Scene 1. Before Prospera’s cell, Ferdinand has been put to work by Prospera and is busy moving logs and dreaming of Miranda, with Prospera watching secretly. Miranda joins him and offers to help with his work. Thinking they are alone, they declare their love for each other. Prospera is not unhappy with this, but she has other things to attend to before she can give them her blessing.
Scene 2. As Stephano, Trinculo and Caliban stagger drunkenly around the island, the invisible Ariel adds to their confusion by imitating their voices and rousing them to blows. Caliban reveals that Prospera’s powers will vanish if her books are destroyed. Prospera could then be killed and Miranda forced to become Stephano’s queen. Ariel has much to report back to his mistress, Prospera.
Scene 3. In another part of the island, the courtiers are hungry and exhausted. To torture them, Prospera summons strange shapes to appear before them and summon them to a banquet. But Ariel, in the guise of a harpy, claps his wings and makes the banquet vanish. With Prospera present, but invisible to the nobles, Ariel chastises them for expelling Prospera from Milan and explains that the storm was Nature’s punishment for their actions. When Ariel vanishes, the nobles are so shaken that Gonzalo sees it as a measure of their “great guilt”.
Scene 1. Before her cell, Prospera summons Ferdinand and offers him Miranda’s hand, but insists they must remain chaste until their wedding day. Ferdinand modestly agrees. Delighted by the love match, Prospera devises a masque to celebrate, with an array of Goddesses who bless the union of the two young lovers. The festivities end abruptly when Prospera remembers Stephano, Trinculo and Caliban’s treachery. Telling Ferdinand and Miranda to hide, she orders Ariel to bring the three malcontents to her. Wet from falling into a foul pond and more drunken than ever, they can see neither Prospera nor Ariel. Arguing among themselves, they notice lavish garments laid out by Ariel which they promptly put on, despite Caliban’s warnings. Prospera responds by releasing invisible hounds which give chase to the terrorised three who are driven out. Prospera’s plans are coming to a head.
Before Prospera’s cell. She has now made all her preparations for the play’s denouement. Dressed in her magic robes she is moved by Ariel’s reports that King Alonso and his court are full of remorse for their past actions. Sending for them, Prospera draws a a magic circle on the ground which Alonso and his court enter and find themselves trapped inside it. One by one he reproaches them for their treachery and then forgives them. Only the good Gonzalo escapes his fury. But the nobles have still not recognized their captor. Finally, Prospera casts off her magic robes and orders Ariel to dress her in the finery of the “wronged” Duke of Milan.
Alonso and the nobles are amazed that Prospera is still alive. Alonso grants Prospera her old title and then Prospera reveals Ferdinand and Miranda playing chess nearby. Alonso is joyfully reunited with his son and future daughter-in-law. Gonzalo realizes, excitedly, that a descendant of Milan will one day become the King of Naples.
As the king’s flagship is readied to sail, Ariel presents Stephano, Trinculo and Caliban. Prospera mocks them for plotting to kill him, but pardons them. Prospera orders Ariel to provide calm seas and strong winds for the journey home and then frees his ever-loyal slave-spirit.
Left alone, having renounced his magic, Prospera asks the audience for the applause “of your good hands” to set her free, “or else my project fails, which was to please.”
This farewell is regarded not only as Prospera’s farewell to her audience, but Shakespeare’s farewell to his greater audience too.
Archived Information inc Audition pieces by Character
Auditions were held (all at Otford Village Memorial Hall) on:
Sunday 22nd. October 2017 from 10am – 1pm
Monday 23rd. October from 7.30pm – 9.30pm
Tuesday 24th. October from 7.30pm-9.30pm.
Sunday November 5th. from 3-5pm.
The parts listed below are those listed in the uncut script. Some of these characters (especially those listed as “Other parts”) may not survive my final cut of the play.
Similarly, the lines allocated to all the main characters are every one that is in the original text. Some of those lines will definitely go in my adaptation.
The gender of some of the characters will not necessarily influence my decision on who I cast. The parts of Prospero, Ariel, Stephano and Trinculo could be played by female actors as I intend to present the play in a modern setting and we have female Heads of State aplenty and the odd female drunk too. I am prepared to countenance other offers from ladies too, but Miranda is a girl and Ferdinand is a boy.
SEBASTIAN (120 lines) Brother of Alonso, lazy and suggestible. He is persuaded to by Antonio to try to kill Alonso and become King of Naples.
5 i 203 ” I have inly wept …….What is the news?” (omit Alonso’s lines)
PROSPERO (674 lines) The rightful Duke of Milan, cast adrift on the sea by his brother Antonio. Using his magic on the island where he and Miranda are shipwrecked, he creates the tempest which brings those who usurped him to the island where he exacts his revenge on them.
2 Audition Pieces:
1 ii 82 “My brother and thy uncle ….Dost thou hear?” (omit Miranda’s lines)
Epilogue “Now my charms ” …. ” set me free.”
ANTONIO (148 lines) The usurper of Prospero’s title as Duke of Milan. He tries to persuade Sebastian to follow his example and kill his own brother, Alonso.
FERDINAND (140 lines) Prince of Naples. Son of Alonso. He falls in love with Miranda and woos her although taken prisoner by Prospero and has to prove himself a worthy suitor by serving Prospero.
3 i 4 “There be some sports …… when I do it.”
3 I 38 “Admired Miranda ….Of every creature’s best.”
GONZALO (161 lines) Honest old councillor in the court of King Alonso. He allowed Prospero to take his books into exile. Prospero remembers him with affection and does not exact revenge on him.
5 i 203 ” I have inly wept …….What is the news?” (omit Alonso’s lines)
Adrian & Francisco
Two lords of Alonso’s court.
5 i 203 ” I have inly wept …….What is the news?” (omit Alonso’s lines)
CALIBAN (175 lines) Savage and deformed slave to Prospero, but has most of the beautiful poetry in the play. Son of the dead witch Sycorax who ruled the island before Prospero’s arrival. Taught to speak by Miranda, who he tried to rape, so is made captive by Prospero. Finds a new master in Alonso’s alcoholic butler, Stephano and encourages him to overthrow Prospero.
1 ii 396 “This island’s mine …. the rest of the island.”
2 ii 1 “All the infections … Do hiss me into madness.”
ARIEL (194 lines) Spirit once enslaved to Caliban’s mother Sycorax and liberated by Prospero. The “industrious servant” of his new master who wins his freedom by helping Prospero with his plan to humiliate his enemies. Think Puck in skin-tight lycra.
1 ii 230 “I boarded the king’s ship… all the devils are here.” (omit Prospero’s lines)
3 iii 69 “You are three men of sin… And a clear life ensuing.”
1 vi 86 “I told you sir,…..O’erstunk their feet.”
Iris, Ceres & Juno
IRIS (41 lines), CERES (24 lines) and JUNO (7 lines) Characters in a masque played by Ariel and other spirits
4 i 76 “Hail, many-coloured messenger …. I have forsworn.” (omit Iris’s lines)
4 i 60 Ceres, most bounteous lady…..Approach, rich Ceres, her to entertain.”
Other: Mariners, Spirits etc
OTHER PARTS: MASTER OF A SHIP, THE BOATSWAIN, MARINERS, NYMPHS, REAPERS and OTHER SPIRITS IN THE SERVICE OF PROSPERO.
5 i 232 “If I did think, sir ….. moping hither.”
ALONSO (109 lines) King of Naples, he allowed Antonio to usurp the title of Duke of Milan and presumes Prospero to have died at sea.
MIRANDA (142 lines) Daughter of Prospero, she falls in love with Ferdinand. She epitomizes Shakespearean Romantic heroines when she comments, “How beauteous mankind is!” In her mid-teens.
1 ii 49 “If by your art …. The fraughting souls within her.”
1 ii 355 “Abhorred slave…..more than a prison.”
3 I 48 “I do not know one of my sex; …. I therein do forget.”
Stephano & Trinculo
STEPHANO (163 lines) Alonso’s butler, he introduces Caliban to the pleasures and pitfalls of alcohol.
TRINCULO (105 lines) Witty jester, he forms a clown-like trio with Caliban and Stephano to overthrow Prospero.
2 ii 54 “What’s the matter? Have we devils here ….. open your chaps again>” (omit Caliban’s lines.
2 ii 18 “Here’s neither bush …. till the dregs of the storm be past.”