finished_summaries/sparknotes/The Tempest/section_0_part_0.txt
The Tempest.act i.scene i
act i, scene i
{"name": "Act I, scene i", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20210131162607/https://www.sparknotes.com/shakespeare/tempest/section1/", "summary": "A violent storm rages around a small ship at sea. The master of the ship calls for his boatswain to rouse the mariners to action and prevent the ship from being run aground by the tempest. Chaos ensues. Some mariners enter, followed by a group of nobles comprised of Alonso, King of Naples, Sebastian, his brother, Antonio, Gonzalo, and others. We do not learn these men's names in this scene, nor do we learn  that they have just come from Tunis, in Africa, where Alonso's daughter, Claribel, has been married to the prince. As the Boatswain and his crew take in the topsail and the topmast, Alonso and his party are merely underfoot, and the Boatswain tells them to get below-decks. Gonzalo reminds the Boatswain that one of the passengers is of some importance, but the Boatswain is unmoved. He will do what he has to in order to save the ship, regardless of who is aboard. The lords go belowdecks, and then, adding to the chaos of the scene, three of them--Sebastian, Antonio, and Gonzalo--enter again only four lines later. Sebastian and Antonio curse the Boatswain in his labors, masking their fear with profanity. Some mariners enter wet and crying, and only at this point does the audience learn the identity of the passengers on-board. Gonzalo orders the mariners to pray for the king and the prince. There is a strange noise--perhaps the sound of thunder, splitting wood, or roaring water--and the cry of mariners. Antonio, Sebastian, and Gonzalo, preparing to sink to a watery grave, go in search of the king.", "analysis": "Analysis Even for a Shakespeare play, The Tempest is remarkable for its extraordinary breadth of imaginative vision. The play is steeped in magic and illusion. As a result, the play contains a tremendous amount of spectacle, yet things are often not as they seem. This opening scene certainly contains spectacle, in the form of the howling storm  tossing the little ship about and threatening to kill the characters before the play has even begun. In terms of stagecraft, it was a significant gamble for Shakespeare to open his play with this spectacular natural event, given that, in the early seventeenth century when the play was written, special effects were largely left to the audience's imagination. Shakespeare's stage would have been almost entirely bare, without many physical signs that the actors were supposed to be on a ship, much less a ship in the midst of a lashing storm. As a result, the audience sees Shakespeare calling on all the resources of his theater to establish a certain level of realism. For example, the play begins with a \"noise of thunder and lightning\" . The first word, \"Boatswain!\" immediately indicates that the scene is the deck of a ship. In addition, characters rush frantically in and out, often with no purpose--as when Sebastian, Antonio, and Gonzalo exit at line 29 and re-enter at 33, indicating the general level of chaos and confusion. Cries from off-stage create the illusion of a space below-decks. But in addition to this spectacle, the play also uses its first scene to hint at some of the illusions and deceptions it will contain. Most plays of this era, by Shakespeare and others, use the introductory scene to present the main characters and hint at the general narrative to come--so Othello begins with Iago's jealousy, and King Lear begins with Lear's decision to abdicate his throne. But The Tempest begins toward the end of the actual story, late in Prospero's exile. Its opening scene is devoted to what appears to be an unexplained natural phenomenon, in which characters who are never named rush about frantically in service of no apparent plot. In fact, the confusion of the opening is itself misleading, for as we will learn later, the storm is not a natural phenomenon at all, but a deliberate magical conjuring by Prospero, designed to bring the ship to the island. The tempest is, in fact, central to the plot. But there is more going on in this scene than initially meets the eye. The apparently chaotic exchanges of the characters introduce the important motif of master-servant relationships. The characters on the boat are divided into nobles, such as Antonio and Gonzalo, and servants or professionals, such as the Boatswain. The mortal danger of the storm upsets the usual balance between these two groups, and the Boatswain, attempting to save the ship, comes into direct conflict with the hapless nobles, who, despite their helplessness, are extremely irritated at being rudely spoken to by a commoner. The characters in the scene are never named outright; they are only referred to in terms that indicate their social stations: \"Boatswain,\" \"Master,\" \"King,\" and \"Prince.\" As the scene progresses, the characters speak less about the storm than about the class conflict underlying their attempts to survive it--a conflict between masters and servants that, as the story progresses, becomes perhaps the major motif of the play. Gonzalo, for instance, jokes that the ship is safe because the uppity Boatswain was surely born to be hanged, not drowned in a storm: \"I have great comfort from this fellow: methinks he hath no drowning mark upon him; his complexion is perfect gallows\" . For his part, the Boatswain observes that social hierarchies are flimsy and unimportant in the face of nature's wrath. \"What cares these roarers,\" he asks, referring to the booming thunder, \"for the name of king?\" . The irony here, of course, is that, unbeknownst to the occupants of the ship, and to the audience, the storm is not natural at all, but is in fact a product of another kind power: Prospero's magic."}
ACT I. SCENE I.

On a ship at sea: a tempestuous noise of thunder
and lightning heard._

  _Enter _a Ship-Master_ and _a Boatswain_._

_Mast._ Boatswain!

_Boats._ Here, master: what cheer?

_Mast._ Good, speak to the mariners: fall to't, yarely, or
we run ourselves aground: bestir, bestir.    [_Exit._

  _Enter _Mariners_._

_Boats._ Heigh, my hearts! cheerly, cheerly, my hearts!              5
yare, yare! Take in the topsail. Tend to the master's
whistle. Blow, till thou burst thy wind, if room enough!

  _Enter ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, FERDINAND, GONZALO,
  and others._

_Alon._ Good boatswain, have care. Where's the master?
Play the men.

_Boats._ I pray now, keep below.                                    10

_Ant._ Where is the master, boatswain?

_Boats._ Do you not hear him? You mar our labour:
keep your cabins: you do assist the storm.

_Gon._ Nay, good, be patient.

_Boats._ When the sea is. Hence! What cares these                   15
roarers for the name of king? To cabin: silence! trouble
us not.

_Gon._ Good, yet remember whom thou hast aboard.

_Boats._ None that I more love than myself. You are a
Counsellor; if you can command these elements to silence,           20
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.    [_Exit._                          25

_Gon._ I have great comfort from this fellow: methinks
he hath no drowning mark upon him; his complexion is
perfect gallows. Stand fast, good Fate, to his hanging:
make the rope of his destiny our cable, for our own doth
little advantage. If he be not born to be hanged, our case          30
is miserable.    [_Exeunt._

  _Re-enter Boatswain._

_Boats._ Down with the topmast! yare! lower, lower!
Bring her to try with main-course. [_A cry within._] A
plague upon this howling! they are louder than the weather
or our office.                                                      35

  _Re-enter SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, and GONZALO._

Yet again! what do you here? Shall we give o'er, and
drown? Have you a mind to sink?

_Seb._ A pox o' your throat, you bawling, blasphemous,
incharitable dog!

_Boats._ Work you, then.                                            40

_Ant._ Hang, cur! hang, you whoreson, insolent noise-maker.
We are less afraid to be drowned than thou art.

_Gon._ I'll warrant him for drowning; though the ship
were no stronger than a nutshell, and as leaky as an unstanched
wench.                                                              45

_Boats._ Lay her a-hold, a-hold! set her two courses off
to sea again; lay her off.

  _Enter _Mariners_ wet._

_Mariners._ All lost! to prayers, to prayers! all lost!

_Boats._ What, must our mouths be cold?

_Gon._ The king and prince at prayers! let's assist them,           50
For our case is as theirs.

_Seb._                   I'm out of patience.

_Ant._ We are merely cheated of our lives by drunkards:
This wide-chapp'd rascal,--would thou mightst lie drowning
The washing of ten tides!

_Gon._                  He'll be hang'd yet,
Though every drop of water swear against it,                        55
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!"]

_Ant._ Let's all sink with the king.                                60

_Seb._ Let's take leave of him. [_Exeunt Ant. and Seb._

_Gon._ 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.    [_Exeunt._                                            65


  Notes: I, 1.

  SC. I. On a ship at sea] Pope.
  Enter ... Boatswain] Collier MS. adds 'shaking off wet.'
  3: _Good,_] Rowe. _Good:_ Ff. _Good._ Collier.
  7: _till thou burst thy wind_] _till thou burst, wind_ Johnson conj.
    _till thou burst thee, wind_ Steevens conj.
  8: Capell adds stage direction [Exeunt Mariners aloft.
  11: _boatswain_] Pope. _boson_ Ff.
  11-18: Verse. S. Walker conj.
  15: _cares_] _care_ Rowe. See note (I).
  31:  [Exeunt] Theobald. [Exit. Ff.
  33: _Bring her to try_] F4. _Bring her to Try_ F1 F2 F3.
    _Bring her to. Try_ Story conj.
  33-35: Text as in Capell. _A plague_--A cry within. Enter Sebastian,
    Anthonio, and Gonzalo. _upon this howling._ Ff.
  34-37: Verse. S. Walker conj.
  43: _for_] _from_ Theobald.
  46: _two courses off to sea_] _two courses; off to sea_ Steevens
    (Holt conj.).
  46: [Enter...] [Re-enter... Dyce.
  47: [Exeunt. Theobald.
  50: _at_] _are at_ Rowe.
  50-54: Printed as prose in Ff.
  56: _to glut_] _t' englut_ Johnson conj.
  57: See note (II).
  59: _Farewell, brother!_] _Brother, farewell!_ Theobald.
  60: _with the_] Rowe. _with'_ F1 F2. _with_ F3 F4.
  61: [Exeunt A. and S.] [Exit. Ff.
  63: _furze_ Rowe. _firrs_ F1 F2 F3. _firs_ F4.
  _long heath, brown furze_] _ling, heath, broom, furze_ Hanmer.]
  65: [Exeunt] [Exit F1, om. F2 F3 F4.]




Act I, scene i
A violent storm rages around a small ship at sea. The master of the ship calls for his boatswain to rouse the mariners to action and prevent the ship from being run aground by the tempest. Chaos ensues. Some mariners enter, followed by a group of nobles comprised of Alonso, King of Naples, Sebastian, his brother, Antonio, Gonzalo, and others. We do not learn these men's names in this scene, nor do we learn  that they have just come from Tunis, in Africa, where Alonso's daughter, Claribel, has been married to the prince. As the Boatswain and his crew take in the topsail and the topmast, Alonso and his party are merely underfoot, and the Boatswain tells them to get below-decks. Gonzalo reminds the Boatswain that one of the passengers is of some importance, but the Boatswain is unmoved. He will do what he has to in order to save the ship, regardless of who is aboard. The lords go belowdecks, and then, adding to the chaos of the scene, three of them--Sebastian, Antonio, and Gonzalo--enter again only four lines later. Sebastian and Antonio curse the Boatswain in his labors, masking their fear with profanity. Some mariners enter wet and crying, and only at this point does the audience learn the identity of the passengers on-board. Gonzalo orders the mariners to pray for the king and the prince. There is a strange noise--perhaps the sound of thunder, splitting wood, or roaring water--and the cry of mariners. Antonio, Sebastian, and Gonzalo, preparing to sink to a watery grave, go in search of the king.
Analysis Even for a Shakespeare play, The Tempest is remarkable for its extraordinary breadth of imaginative vision. The play is steeped in magic and illusion. As a result, the play contains a tremendous amount of spectacle, yet things are often not as they seem. This opening scene certainly contains spectacle, in the form of the howling storm  tossing the little ship about and threatening to kill the characters before the play has even begun. In terms of stagecraft, it was a significant gamble for Shakespeare to open his play with this spectacular natural event, given that, in the early seventeenth century when the play was written, special effects were largely left to the audience's imagination. Shakespeare's stage would have been almost entirely bare, without many physical signs that the actors were supposed to be on a ship, much less a ship in the midst of a lashing storm. As a result, the audience sees Shakespeare calling on all the resources of his theater to establish a certain level of realism. For example, the play begins with a "noise of thunder and lightning" . The first word, "Boatswain!" immediately indicates that the scene is the deck of a ship. In addition, characters rush frantically in and out, often with no purpose--as when Sebastian, Antonio, and Gonzalo exit at line 29 and re-enter at 33, indicating the general level of chaos and confusion. Cries from off-stage create the illusion of a space below-decks. But in addition to this spectacle, the play also uses its first scene to hint at some of the illusions and deceptions it will contain. Most plays of this era, by Shakespeare and others, use the introductory scene to present the main characters and hint at the general narrative to come--so Othello begins with Iago's jealousy, and King Lear begins with Lear's decision to abdicate his throne. But The Tempest begins toward the end of the actual story, late in Prospero's exile. Its opening scene is devoted to what appears to be an unexplained natural phenomenon, in which characters who are never named rush about frantically in service of no apparent plot. In fact, the confusion of the opening is itself misleading, for as we will learn later, the storm is not a natural phenomenon at all, but a deliberate magical conjuring by Prospero, designed to bring the ship to the island. The tempest is, in fact, central to the plot. But there is more going on in this scene than initially meets the eye. The apparently chaotic exchanges of the characters introduce the important motif of master-servant relationships. The characters on the boat are divided into nobles, such as Antonio and Gonzalo, and servants or professionals, such as the Boatswain. The mortal danger of the storm upsets the usual balance between these two groups, and the Boatswain, attempting to save the ship, comes into direct conflict with the hapless nobles, who, despite their helplessness, are extremely irritated at being rudely spoken to by a commoner. The characters in the scene are never named outright; they are only referred to in terms that indicate their social stations: "Boatswain," "Master," "King," and "Prince." As the scene progresses, the characters speak less about the storm than about the class conflict underlying their attempts to survive it--a conflict between masters and servants that, as the story progresses, becomes perhaps the major motif of the play. Gonzalo, for instance, jokes that the ship is safe because the uppity Boatswain was surely born to be hanged, not drowned in a storm: "I have great comfort from this fellow: methinks he hath no drowning mark upon him; his complexion is perfect gallows" . For his part, the Boatswain observes that social hierarchies are flimsy and unimportant in the face of nature's wrath. "What cares these roarers," he asks, referring to the booming thunder, "for the name of king?" . The irony here, of course, is that, unbeknownst to the occupants of the ship, and to the audience, the storm is not natural at all, but is in fact a product of another kind power: Prospero's magic.