ACT V. SCENE I.

_Before the cell of Prospero._

  _Enter PROSPERO in his magic robes, and ARIEL._

_Pros._ 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?

_Ari._ On the sixth hour; at which time, my lord,
You said our work should cease.

_Pros._                       I did say so,                          5
When first I raised the tempest. Say, my spirit,
How fares the king and's followers?

_Ari._                            Confined together
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;                    10
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;"             15
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.

_Pros._            Dost thou think so, spirit?

_Ari._ Mine would, sir, were I human.

_Pros._                             And mine shall.                 20
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,             25
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:                        30
My charms I'll break, their senses I'll restore,
And they shall be themselves.

_Ari._                      I'll fetch them, sir.    [_Exit._

_Pros._ 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                         35
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--                           40
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                      45
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                           50
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,                               55
And deeper than did ever plummet sound
I'll drown my book.                    [_Solemn music._

  _Re-enter ARIEL before: then ALONSO, with a frantic gesture,
  attended by GONZALO; SEBASTIAN and ANTONIO in like manner,
  attended by ADRIAN and FRANCISCO: they all enter the circle
  which PROSPERO had made, and there stand charmed; which PROSPERO
  observing, speaks:_

A solemn air, and the best comforter
To an unsettled fancy, cure thy brains,
Now useless, boil'd within thy skull! There stand,                  60
For you are spell-stopp'd.
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,                           65
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 thou follow'st! I will pay thy graces                        70
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 pinch'd for't now, Sebastian. Flesh and blood,
You, brother mine, that entertain'd ambition,                       75
Expell'd remorse and nature; who, with Sebastian,--
Whose inward pinches therefore are most strong,--
Would here have kill'd your king; I do forgive thee,
Unnatural though thou art. Their understanding
Begins to swell; and the approaching tide                           80
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                               85
As I was sometime Milan: quickly, spirit;
Thou shalt ere long be free.

_ARIEL sings and helps to attire him._

    Where the bee sucks, there suck I:
    In a cowslip's bell I lie;
    There I couch when owls do cry.                                 90
    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.

_Pros._ Why, that's my dainty Ariel! I shall miss thee;             95
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,                           100
And presently, I prithee.

_Ari._ I drink the air before me, and return
Or ere your pulse twice beat.    [_Exit._

_Gon._ All torment, trouble, wonder and amazement
Inhabits here: some heavenly power guide us                        105
Out of this fearful country!

_Pros._                    Behold, sir king,
The wronged Duke of Milan, Prospero:
For more assurance that a living prince
Does now speak to thee, I embrace thy body;
And to thee and thy company I bid                                  110
A hearty welcome.

_Alon._         Whether thou be'st 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,                      115
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?

_Pros._              First, noble friend,                          120
Let me embrace thine age, whose honour cannot
Be measured or confined.

_Gon._                 Whether this be
Or be not, I'll not swear.

_Pros._                  You do yet taste
Some subtilties o' the isle, that will not let you
Believe things certain. Welcome, my friends all!                   125
[_Aside to Seb. and Ant._]
    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.

_Seb._ [_Aside_]    The devil speaks in him.

_Pros._                                    No.
For you, most wicked sir, whom to call brother                     130
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.

_Alon._          If thou be'st Prospero,
Give us particulars of thy preservation;                           135
How thou hast met us here, who three hours since
Were wreck'd upon this shore; where I have lost--
How sharp the point of this remembrance is!--
My dear son Ferdinand.

_Pros._              I am woe for't, sir.

_Alon._ Irreparable is the loss; and patience                      140
Says it is past her cure.

_Pros._                 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.

_Alon._                You the like loss!

_Pros._ As great to me as late; and, supportable                   145
To make the dear loss, have I means much weaker
Than you may call to comfort you, for I
Have lost my daughter.

_Alon._              A daughter?
O heavens, that they were living both in Naples,
The king and queen there! that they were, I wish                   150
Myself were mudded in that oozy bed
Where my son lies. When did you lose you daughter?

_Pros._ In this last tempest. I perceive, these lords
At this encounter do so much admire,
That they devour their reason, and scarce think                    155
Their eyes do offices of truth, their words
Are natural breath: but, howsoe'er you have
Been justled from your senses, know for certain
That I am Prospero, and that very duke
Which was thrust forth of Milan; who most strangely                160
Upon this shore, where you were wreck'd, was landed,
To be the Lord on't. No more yet of this;
For 'tis a chronicle of day by day,
Not a relation for a breakfast, nor
Befitting this first meeting. Welcome, sir;                        165
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                       170
As much as me my dukedom.

  _Here Prospero discovers FERDINAND and MIRANDA playing at chess._

_Mir._ Sweet lord, you play me false.

_Fer._                              No, my dear'st love,
I would not for the world.

_Mir._ Yes, for a score of kingdoms you should wrangle,
And I would call it fair play.

_Alon._                      If this prove                         175
A vision of the island, one dear son
Shall I twice lose.

_Seb._            A most high miracle!

_Fer._ Though the seas threaten, they are merciful;
I have cursed them without cause.               [_Kneels._

_Alon._                          Now all the blessings
Of a glad father compass thee about!                               180
Arise, and say how thou camest here.

_Mir._                             O, wonder!
How many goodly creatures are there here!
How beauteous mankind is! O brave new world,
That has such people in't!

_Pros._                  'Tis new to thee.

_Alon._ What is this maid with whom thou wast at play?             185
Your eld'st acquaintance cannot be three hours:
Is she the goddess that hath sever'd us,
And brought us thus together?

_Fer._                      Sir, she is mortal;
But by immortal Providence she's mine:
I chose her when I could not ask my father                         190
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                          195
This lady makes him to me.

_Alon._                  I am hers:
But, O, how oddly will it sound that I
Must ask my child forgiveness!

_Pros._                      There, sir, stop:
Let us not burthen our remembrances with
A heaviness that's gone.

_Gon._                 I have inly wept,                           200
Or should have spoke ere this. Look down, you gods,
And on this couple drop a blessed crown!
For it is you that have chalk'd forth the way
Which brought us hither.

_Alon._                I say, Amen, Gonzalo!

_Gon._ Was Milan thrust from Milan, that his issue                 205
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                           210
Where he himself was lost, Prospero his dukedom
In a poor isle, and all of us ourselves
When no man was his own.

_Alon._ [_to Fer. and Mir._] Give me your hands:
Let grief and sorrow still embrace his heart
That doth not wish you joy!

_Gon._                    Be it so! Amen!                          215

  _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?                      220

_Boats._ 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 rigg'd, as when
We first put out to sea.

_Ari._ [_Aside to Pros._] Sir, all this service                    225
Have I done since I went.

_Pros._ [_Aside to Ari._] My tricksy spirit!

_Alon._ These are not natural events; they strengthen
From strange to stranger. Say, how came you hither?

_Boats._ If I did think, sir, I were well awake,
I'ld strive to tell you. We were dead of sleep,                    230
And--how we know not--all clapp'd 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;                           235
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.

_Ari._ [_Aside to Pros._] Was't well done?                         240

_Pros._ [_Aside to Ari._] Bravely, my diligence. Thou shalt be free.

_Alon._ 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.

_Pros._                   Sir, my liege,                           245
Do not infest your mind with beating on
The strangeness of this business; at pick'd leisure
Which shall be shortly, single I'll resolve you,
Which to you shall seem probable, of every
These happen'd accidents; till when, be cheerful,                  250
And think of each thing well.
    [_Aside to Ari._] Come hither, spirit:
Set Caliban and his companions free;
Untie the spell. [_Exit Ariel._] How fares my gracious sir?
There are yet missing of your company
Some few odd lads that you remember not.                           255

  _Re-enter ARIEL, driving in CALIBAN, STEPHANO, and TRINCULO,
  in their stolen apparel._

_Ste._ Every man shift for all the rest, and let no man
take care for himself; for all is but fortune. --Coragio,
bully-monster, coragio!

_Trin._ If these be true spies which I wear in my head,
here's a goodly sight.                                             260

_Cal._ O Setebos, these be brave spirits indeed!
How fine my master is! I am afraid
He will chastise me.

_Seb._             Ha, ha!
What things are these, my lord Antonio?
Will money buy 'em?

_Ant._            Very like; one of them                           265
Is a plain fish, and, no doubt, marketable.

_Pros._ 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,                  270
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                        275
Acknowledge mine.

_Cal._          I shall be pinch'd to death.

_Alon._ Is not this Stephano, my drunken butler?

_Seb._ He is drunk now: where had he wine?

_Alon._ And Trinculo is reeling ripe: where should they
Find this grand liquor that hath gilded 'em?--                     280
How camest thou in this pickle?

_Trin._ 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.

_Seb._ Why, how now, Stephano!                                     285

_Ste._ O, touch me not;--I am not Stephano, but a cramp.

_Pros._ You'ld be king o' the isle, sirrah?

_Ste._ I should have been a sore one, then.

_Alon._ This is a strange thing as e'er I look'd on.
                                [_Pointing to Caliban._

_Pros._ He is as disproportion'd in his manners                    290
As in his shape. Go, sirrah, to my cell;
Take with you your companions; as you look
To have my pardon, trim it handsomely.

_Cal._ Ay, that I will; and I'll be wise hereafter,
And seek for grace. What a thrice-double ass                       295
Was I, to take this drunkard for a god,
And worship this dull fool!

_Pros._                Go to; away!

_Alon._ Hence, and bestow your luggage where you found it.

_Seb._ Or stole it, rather.    [_Exeunt Cal., Ste., and Trin._

_Pros._ Sir, I invite your Highness and your train                 300
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                               305
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                            310
Every third thought shall be my grave.

_Alon._                              I long
To hear the story of your life, which must
Take the ear strangely.

_Pros._               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 Ari._] My Ariel, chick,       315
That is thy charge: then to the elements
Be free, and fare thou well! Please you, draw near.
    [_Exeunt._

  Notes: V, 1.

  7: _together_] om. Pope.
  9: _all_] _all your_ Pope.
  10: _line-grove_] _lime-grove_ Rowe.
  11: _your_] F1 F2. _you_ F3 F4.
  15: _sir_] om. Pope.
  16: _run_] _runs_ F1.
  _winter's_] _winter_ F4.]
  23: F1 F2 put a comma after _sharply_. F3 F4 omit it.
  24: _Passion_] _Passion'd_ Pope.
  26: _'gainst_] Pope. _gainst_ F1 F2. _against_ F3 F4.
  33: SCENE II. Pope.
  37: _green sour_] _green-sward_ Douce conj.
  46: _strong-based_] Rowe. _strong-bass'd_ Ff.
  58: SCENE III. Pope.
  60: _boil'd_] Pope. _boile_ F1 F2. _boil_ F3 F4.
  62: _Holy_] _Noble_ Collier MS.
  63: _show_] _shew_ Ff. _flow_ Collier MS.
  64: _fellowly_] _fellow_ Pope.
  68: _O_] _O my_ Pope. _O thou_ S. Walker conj.
  69: _sir_] _servant_ Collier MS.
  72: _Didst_] F3 F4. _Did_ F1 F2.
  74: _Sebastian. Flesh and blood,_] _Sebastian, flesh and blood._
    Theobald.
  75: _entertain'd_] _entertaine_ F1.
  76: _who_] Rowe. _whom_ Ff.
  82: _lies_] F3 F4. _ly_ F1 F2.
  83: _or_] _e'er_ Collier MS.
  84: Theobald gives as stage direction "Exit Ariel and returns
    immediately."
  88: _suck_] _lurk_ Theobald.
  90: _couch_] _crowch_ F3 F4.
  [Capell punctuates _There I couch: when owls do cry,_]
  92: _summer_] _sun-set_ Theobald.
  106: _Behold,_] _lo!_ Pope.
  111: _Whether thou be'st_] _Where thou beest_ Ff. _Be'st thou_ Pope.
    _Whe'r thou be'st_ Capell.
  112: _trifle_] _devil_ Collier MS.
  119: _my_] _thy_ Collier MS.
  124: _not_] F3 F4. _nor_ F1 F2.
  132: _fault_] _faults_ F4.
  136: _who_] F2 F3 F4. _whom_ F1.
  145: _and,_] _sir, and_ Capell.
  _supportable_] F1 F2. _insupportable_ F3 F4. _portable_ Steevens.
  148: _my_] _my only_ Hanmer.
  _A daughter_] _Only daughter_ Hanmer. _Daughter_ Capell.
  156: _eyes_] F1. _eye_ F2 F3 F4.
  _their_] _these_ Capell.]
  172: SCENE IV. Pope.
  Here Prospero discovers...] Ff. SCENE opens to the entrance of
    the cell. Here Prospero discovers... Theobald. Cell opens and
    discovers... Capell.]
  172: _dear'st_] _dearest_ Ff.
  179: [Kneels] Theobald.
  191: _advice_] F4. _advise_ F1 F2 F3.
  199, 200: _remembrances with_] _remembrance with_ Pope.
    _remembrances With_ Malone.
  213: _When_] _Where_ Johnson conj.]
  _and_] om. Capell.
  216: SCENE V. Pope.
  _sir, look, sir_] _sir, look_ F3 F4.]
  _is_] _are_ Pope.]
  221: _safely_] _safe_ F3 F4.
  230: _of sleep_] _a-sleep_ Pope.
  234: _more_] Rowe. _mo_ F1 F2. _moe_ F3 F4.
  236: _her_] Theobald (Thirlby conj.). _our_ Ff.
  242-245: Given to Ariel in F2 F3 F4.
  247: _leisure_] F1. _seisure_ F2. _seizure_ F3 F4.
  248: _Which shall be shortly, single_] Pope. _(which shall be
    shortly single)_ Ff.
  253: [Exit Ariel] Capell.
  256: SCENE VI. Pope.
  258: _Coragio_] _corasio_ F1.
  268: _mis-shapen_] _mis-shap'd_ Pope.
  271: _command, without her power._] _command. Without her power,_
    anon. conj.
  _without_] _with all_ Collier MS.
  280: _liquor_] _'lixir_ Theobald.
  282-284: Printed as verse in Ff.
  289: _This is_] F1 F2. _'Tis_ F3 F4.]
  _e'er I_] _I ever_ Hanmer.
  [Pointing to Caliban.] Steevens.]
  299: [Exeunt... Trin.] Capell.
  308: _nuptial_] _nuptiall_ F1. _nuptials_ F2 F3 F4.
  309: See note (XVIII).

EPILOGUE.

SPOKEN BY PROSPERO.

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,                                       5
Since I have my dukedom got,
And pardon'd the deceiver, dwell
In this bare island by your spell;
But release me from my bands
With the help of your good hands:                                   10
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,                                           15
Unless I be relieved by prayer,
Which pierces so, that it assaults
Mercy itself, and frees all faults.
As you from crimes would pardon'd be,
Let your indulgence set me free.                                    20

  Notes: Epilogue.

  EPILOGUE ... PROSPERO.] advancing, Capell.]
  1: _Now_] _Now, now_ F3 F4.
  3: _now_] _and now_ Pope.
  13: _Now_] _For now_ Pope.

NOTES.

NOTE I.

I. 1. 15. _What cares these roarers._ This grammatical inaccuracy, which
escaped correction in the later folios, probably came from Shakespeare's
pen. Similar cases occur frequently, especially when the verb precedes
its nominative. For example, _Tempest_, IV. 1. 262, 'Lies at my mercy
all mine enemies,' and _Measure for Measure_, II. 1. 22, 'What knows the
laws, &c.' We correct it in those passages where the occurrence of a
vulgarism would be likely to annoy the reader. In the mouth of a
Boatswain it can offend no one. We therefore leave it.

NOTE II.

I. 1. 57-59. _Mercy on us!--we split, &c._ It may be doubtful whether
the printer of the first folio intended these broken speeches to express
'a confused noise within.' Without question such was the author's
meaning. Rowe, however, and subsequent editors, printed them as part of
Gonzalo's speech. Capell was the first editor who gave the true
arrangement.

NOTE III.

I. 2. 173. _princesses._ See Mr Sidney Walker's _Shakespeare's
Versification_, p. 243 sqq. 'The plurals of substantives ending in _s_,
in certain instances, in _se_, _ss_, _ce_, and sometimes _ge_, ... are
found without the usual addition of _s_ or _es_, in pronunciation at
least, although in many instances the plural affix is added in printing,
where the metre shows that it is not to be pronounced.'

In this and other instances, we have thought it better to trust to the
ear of the reader for the rhythm than to introduce an innovation in
orthography which might perplex him as to the sense. The form
'princesses,' the use of which in Shakespeare's time was doubted by one
of our correspondents, is found in the _History of King Leir_.

Rowe's reading 'princes' might be defended on the ground that the
sentiment is general, and applicable to royal children of both sexes; or
that Sir Philip Sidney, in the first book of the _Arcadia_, calls Pamela
and Philoclea 'princes.'

NOTE IV.

I. 2. 298. The metre of this line, as well as of lines 301, 302, is
defective, but as no mode of correction can be regarded as completely
satisfactory we have in accordance with our custom left the lines as
they are printed in the Folio. The defect, indeed, in the metre of line
298 has not been noticed except by Hanmer, who makes a line thus:

  'Do so, and after two days I'll discharge thee.'

Possibly it ought to be printed thus:

              'Do so; and
  After two days
  I will discharge thee.'

There is a broken line, also of four syllables, 253 of the same scene,
another of seven, 235.

There is no reason to doubt that the _words_ are as Shakespeare wrote
them, for, although the action of the play terminates in less than four
hours (I. 2. 240 and V. 1. 186), yet Ariel's ministry is not to end till
the voyage to Naples shall be over. Prospero, too, repeats his promise,
and marks his contentment by further shortening the time of servitude,
'within two days,' I. 2. 420. Possibly 'Invisible' (301) should have a
line to itself. Words thus occupying a broken line acquire a marked
emphasis.

But the truth is that in dialogue Shakespeare's language passes so
rapidly from verse to prose and from prose to verse, sometimes even
hovering, as it were, over the confines, being rhythmical rather than
metrical, that all attempts to give regularity to the metre must be made
with diffidence and received with doubt.

NOTE V.

I. 2. 377, 378:

  _Courtsied when you have and kiss'd_
  _The wild waves whist._

This punctuation seems to be supported by what Ferdinand says (391,
392):

  'The music crept by me upon the waters,
  Allaying both their fury and my passion, &c.'

At the end of the stanza we have printed _Hark, hark! ... The watch-dogs
bark_ as that part of the burthen which 'sweet sprites bear.' The other
part is borne by distant watch-dogs.

NOTE VI.

I. 2. 443. _I fear you have done yourself some wrong._ See this phrase
used in a similar sense, _Measure for Measure_, I. 11. 39.

NOTE VII.

II. 1. 27. _Which, of he or Adrian._ 'Of' is found in the same
construction, _Midsummer Night's Dream_, III. 2. 336,

  'Now follow if thou darest to try whose right,
  Of thine or mine, is most in Helena.'

NOTE VIII.

II. 1. 157. _Of its own kind._ There is no doubt, as Dr Guest has shewn,
that 'it,' which is the reading of the 1st and 2nd folios, was commonly
used as a genitive in Shakespeare's time, as it is still in some
provincial dialects. 'Its,' however, was coming into use. One instance
occurs in this play, I. 11. 95, 'in its contrary.'

NOTE IX.

II. 1. 241. _she that from whom._ Mr Spedding writes: 'The received
emendation is not satisfactory to me. I would rather read, "She
that--From whom? All were sea-swallow'd &c., i.e. from whom should she
have note? The report from Naples will be that all were drowned. We
shall be the only survivors." The break in the construction seems to me
characteristic of the speaker. But you must read the whole speech to
feel the effect.'

NOTE X.

II. 1. 249-251. All editors except Mr Staunton have printed in italics
(or between inverted commas) only as far as '_Naples?_', but as '_keep_'
is printed with a small k in the folios, they seem to sanction the
arrangement given in our text.

NOTE XI.

II. 1. 267. _Ay, sir; where lies that? if 'twere a kibe._ Mr Singer and
Mr Dyce have changed ''twere' to 'it were' for the sake of the metre.
But then the first part of the line must be read with a wrong emphasis.
The proper emphasis clearly falls on the first, third, and fifth
syllables, 'AY, sir; WHERE lies THAT?' See Preface.

NOTE XII.

II. 2. 165. Before 'here; bear my bottle' Capell inserts a stage
direction [_To Cal._], but it appears from III. 2. 62, that Trinculo was
entrusted with the office of bottle-bearer.

NOTE XIII.

III. 1. 15. _Most busy lest, when I do it._ As none of the proposed
emendations can be regarded as certain, we have left the reading of F1,
though it is manifestly corrupt. The spelling 'doe' makes Mr Spedding's
conjecture 'idlest' for 'I doe it' more probable.

NOTE XIV.

III. 3. 17. The stage direction, which we have divided into two parts,
is placed all at once in the folios after 'as when they are fresh'
[Solemne and strange Musicke; and Prosper on the top (invisible:) Enter
... depart].

Pope transferred it to follow Sebastian's words, 'I say, to night: no
more.'

NOTE XV.

III. 3. 48. _Each putter out of five for one._ See Beaumont and
Fletcher, _The Noble Gentleman_, I. 1. (Vol. II. p. 261, ed. Moxon):
'The return will give you five for one.' MARINE is about to travel.

NOTE XVI.

IV. 1. 146. _You do look, my son, in a moved sort._ Seymour suggests a
transposition: 'you do, my son, look in a moved sort.' This line however
can scarcely have come from Shakespeare's pen. Perhaps the writer who
composed the Masque was allowed to join it, as best he might, to
Shakespeare's words, which re-commence at 'Our revels now are ended,'
&c.

NOTE XVII.

IV. 1. 230. _Let's alone._ See Staunton's "Shakespeare," Vol. I. p. 81,
note (b).

NOTE XVIII.

V. 1. 309. _Of these our dear-beloved solemnized._ The Folios have
'belov'd'; a mode of spelling, which in this case is convenient as
indicating the probable rhythm of the verse. We have written 'beloved,'
in accordance with the general rule mentioned in the Preface.

'Solemnized' occurs in four other verse passages of Shakespeare. It is
three times to be accented 'SOlemnized' and once (_Love's Labour's
Lost_, II. 1. 41) 'soLEMnized.'

       *       *       *       *       *
           *       *       *       *
       *       *       *       *       *

Sources:

The editors' Preface (e-text 23041) discusses the 17th- and
18th-century editions in detail; the newer (19th-century) editions
are simply listed by name. The following editions may appear in the
Notes. All inset text is quoted from the Preface.

  Folios:
  F1 1623; F2 (no date given); F3 1663; F4 1685.
    "The five plays contained in this volume occur in the first Folio
    in the same order, and ... were there printed for the first time."

  Early editions:
  Rowe 1709
  Pope 1715
    "Pope was the first to indicate the _place_ of each new scene;
    as, for instance, _Tempest_, I. 1. 'On a ship at sea.' He also
    subdivided the scenes as given by the Folios and Rowe, making
    a fresh scene whenever a new character entered--an arrangement
    followed by Hanmer, Warburton, and Johnson. For convenience of
    reference to these editions, we have always recorded the
    commencement of Pope's scenes."
  Theobald 1733
  Hanmer ("Oxford edition") 1744
  Warburton 1747
  Johnson 1765
  Capell 1768; _also Capell's annotated copy of F2_
  Steevens 1773
  Malone 1790
  Reed 1803

  Later editions:
  Singer, Knight, Cornwall, Collier, Phelps, Halliwell, Dyce, Staunton

  Dryden:
    "_The Tempest_ was altered by Dryden and D'Avenant, and published
    as _The Tempest; or the Enchanted Island_, in 1669. We mark the
    emendations derived from it: 'Dryden's version.'"

Errors and inconsistencies:

  _Re-enter Boatswain._
    [printed BOATSWAIN in small capitals]
  _Enter _Ariel_._
    [printed "Ariel" in lower case]
  Where my son lies. When did you lose you daughter?
    [Text unchanged: error for "your"?]

  [Text-critical notes]

  I. 2. 135: _to 't_] om. Steevens (Farmer conj.).
    [Here and elsewhere in the volume, body text has unspaced "to't"
    while line notes have spaced "to 't".]
  I. 2. 202: _o' the_] _of_ Pope.
    [Text unchanged: body text is capitalized "O' the"]
  II. 1. 88: _Ay._] I. Ff. _Ay?_ Pope.
    [Text unchanged: apparent error for italic _I._]
  III. 3. 17: Prospero above]
    [Text unchanged: stage direction is after l. 19]

  [Endnotes]

  I: I. 1. 15.  [I. 1. 16]
  V: 377, 378.  [376-377]
  XVI: IV. 1. 146  [IV. 1. 147]

Prospero finally has all under his control; Ariel has apprehended Alonso, Sebastian, and Antonio, and they are all waiting for Prospero's judgment. Finally, Prospero makes up his mind against revenge, and makes a speech that signifies his renunciation of magic; the accused and the other nobles enter the magic circle that Prospero has made, and stand there, enchanted, while he speaks. Prospero charges Alonso with throwing Prospero and his daughter out of Italy, and Antonio and Sebastian with being part of this crime. Prospero announces Ariel's freedom after Ariel sees the party back to Naples, and Ariel sings a song out of joy. Alonso and Prospero are reconciled after Alonso declares his remorse and repents his wrongs to Prospero and Miranda, and Prospero finally wins back his dukedom from Antonio. Prospero, perhaps unwillingly, also says that he forgives Antonio and Sebastian, though he calls them "wicked" and expresses his reservations about letting them off the hook. After despairing that his son is dead, Alonso finds out that his son Ferdinand is indeed alive, and the two are reunited; then, Ferdinand and Miranda's engagement is announced, and is approved before the whole party by Alonso and Prospero. Gonzalo rejoices that on the voyage, such a good match was made, and that the brothers are reunited, and some of the bad blood between them is now flushed out. Ariel has readied Alonso's boat for their departure, and the boatswain shows up again, telling them about what happened to all of the sailors during the tempest. Caliban apologizes to Prospero for taking the foolish Stephano as his master, and Prospero, at last, acknowledges Caliban, and takes him as his own. Stephano, Trinculo, and Caliban's plot is exposed to the whole group, and is immediately forgiven. Prospero invites everyone to pass one last night in the island at his dwelling, and promises to tell the story of his and Miranda's survival, and of the devices of his magic. The play ends with Prospero addressing the audience, telling them that they hold an even greater power than Prospero the character, and can decide what happens next.

Prospero's first words suggest an alchemic metaphor; the words "gather to a head" denote things coming to a climax, but also liquid coming to a boil, and Prospero's "project" is a kind of scientific experiment as well. Prospero, with his somewhat sinister studies in magic and strange powers, is a figure reminiscent of an alchemist as well, though his experiments are more involved with human nature than metallurgy. Allusions to classical literature also appear in this act, but this time to Ovid rather than Virgil. Prospero's speech, starting at line 33, is very much reminiscent of one of Medea's speeches in the Metamorphoses: both speeches run roughly "ye elvesby whose aid I have bedimmed, called forth,given fire, and rifted," and Shakespeare's language is too similar to Ovid's in its syntax, commanding and formal tone, and implications to be merely incidental. There are also a few interesting allusions to English folk beliefs in Prospero's speeches, one of them with the "green sour ringlets" that he mentions . These "ringlets" that he is referring to are fairy rings, or small circles of sour grass caused by the roots of toadstools; according to folk tales, these rings were made by fairies dancing. Suddenly appearing "midnight mushrooms," as Prospero calls them, were thought to be another sign of fairies' overnight activities. The "curfew" that Prospero mentions in the same speech marked the beginning of the time of night when spirits were believed to walk abroad, and fairies and other creatures were believed to cause their mischief then. When Prospero at last confronts Alonso and his brothers, he uses another ocean metaphor to describe the gradual process of Prospero's spell falling from them, and their minds returning to reason. Understanding, in Prospero's estimation, is the sea, and confusion is the shore at low tide, waiting to be cleared of its "foul and muddy" covering. Though they are still charmed as Prospero speaks like this, gradually understanding will reach them, like the sea on an "approaching tide" . The surprise of Ferdinand alive on the island is nicely set up by one of Alonso's statements; upon being told that Prospero lost a daughter, in a manner of speaking, Alonso exclaims, "o, that they were living both in Naples, the king and queen there!" . The statement is perhaps too tidy a foreshadowing of the revelation that Ferdinand and Miranda are in fact alive, and will be united as king and queen; but, as in Act 1, an urgently expressed wish of one of the characters is fulfilled by the economical workings of the plot. Ferdinand and Miranda's pairing is a prime example of the political marriage, used frequently to cement unions between former enemies, as in this case; and they were also not uncommon in England, with Elizabeth's oft-proposed matches to French and Spanish royalty, and James I's strategic alliances forged with the marriages of his own children occurring in the era of this play. Ferdinand and Miranda metaphorically reduce their parents' political wrangling over "kingdoms" into a game of chess. Allegorically, the game of chess often represented political conflict over a prize, and here, the stakes are the realm that Miranda and Ferdinand will inherit. Although Ferdinand and Miranda are a confirmed couple by the end of the play, their discussion over the game foreshadows some political movement looming in their own future. Miranda makes an accusation, at least partly in jest, that Ferdinand will "play false"; the baseless charge recalls Prospero's false cry of treason against Ferdinand, in the first act . Yet, Miranda openly admits to complicity in any cheating that Ferdinand might commit: "for a score of kingdoms you should wrangle, and I would call it fair play," she assures him, her remark forecasting that the same ambition, deceit, and struggle that marked their parents' lives shall also be present in their own . As for Miranda, her famous exclamation of "o brave new world that has such people in't" can hardly be taken at its cheery face value, when Miranda's knowledge and the context around the statement are considered . The remark comes only ten lines after Miranda's half-joking, politically minded statements to Ferdinand; and, considering Miranda's typical tone and manner in the play, a wide-eyed expression of wonder would be out of character. The remark could have been spurred purely by the briefly worded reunion of Alonso and his son Ferdinand; however, coming so soon after Sebastian's less-than-exuberant remark, and with so little buildup, it is unlikely that Miranda's remark can be construed in a purely positive way. Also, Prospero's reply, "'tis new to thee," sounds more like a remark correcting her assumption about the outside world, than a simple, rather unnecessary, and prosaic affirmation. The tone of Miranda's utterance is complicated by a great many factors, and its meaning is a great deal less straightforward than it suggests when taken out of context and character. As for the closure of this play, do not be misled by Gonzalo's typically optimistic appraisal of the situation. Gonzalo rejoices that "Ferdinandfound a wife Prospero his dukedomand all of us ourselves," conveniently omitting any mention of Caliban's fate, or Sebastian and Antonio's lack of salvation . As with many of Shakespeare's comedies, with which this play is loosely grouped, the resolution is anything but cut and dry. There is a parallel lack of closure in Love's Labours Lost, in which the ladies of France swear at the end to leave off any discussion of marriage for an additional year; and in Twelfth Night, at the end of which Orsino and Viola's union is indefinitely postponed. Also, in Much Ado about Nothing, when Hero reveals herself to Claudio, he says no words of apology or love; a happy resolution can be read into the situation, but there is no reply at all from Claudio to such a major development, either in words or gestures in the stage directions. Shakespeare's comedies might be considered to have "happy endings"; but, the conclusions of these plays, even more so than with tragedies like Hamlet, are rarely simple in their implications, or harmonized in their meaning and tone. Prospero is finally aligned with Medea, a representation of dark magic, like Sycorax, in this act, further complicating his characterization. Prospero makes a rather strange claim in this act, that is brought up nowhere else in the play; he echoes Medea's claim in the Metamorphoses that he can call up dead men from their graves, which seems to be included merely to further identify Prospero with the figure of Medea. Sycorax, the witch whom Prospero takes every opportunity to disparage but whom he resembles in his use of force, manipulative use of his magic, and past history, is actually based upon Ovid's portrayal of Medea; and, the relation between Prospero and Sycorax/Medea becomes more apparent in Prospero's speech, based upon the words of Medea. Medea and Sycorax represent a dark side of magic that is also present in Prospero; Prospero uses his magic for devious, selfish, and questionable purposes, and with him, it is difficult to separate the good-intentioned magic he uses from the bad. Prospero himself has a mixed view of his own magic; he recognizes how his fascination with magic lost him his dukedom, and almost caused his loss of control, and therefore cannot maintain his magical practices and his role as a man of action in the real world. He also chooses to give up his magic when he leaves the island, revealing a mixed view of magic in Prospero himself. Prospero's battle against his fabricated characterization of Sycorax is resolved when he finally accepts Caliban, her offspring, and the dark qualities that Caliban represents to him; "this thing of darkness I / acknowledge mine," Prospero says, bringing closure to his struggles against Caliban and his allegedly evil mother . Prospero's relinquishing of his magic is coincident with the disclosure of his methods and devices; his magic is spoiled, just like any kind of magic, when the boatswain comes forth and tells of the strange fate of the ship, complete with some remarkably vivid sound imagery. Prospero's powers cannot survive the trial of being revealed, and his promise to tell Alonso of his devices and tricks is the final act of his resignation. As for Caliban, the wrongs done to him are not redressed, and the poetic, noble sentiments that he shows within the play, especially in his beautiful speech about the island, do not reappear. "How fine my master is," Caliban exclaims; he fully proves himself a born servant, by apologizing to Prospero for taking the foolish, drunken Stephano for his master, and submitting himself to Prospero more willfully than ever . Trinculo and Stephano's ill-conceived murder plot is simply laughed off by the party, and Prospero shows no signs of treating Caliban with anything other than veiled contempt. Although Prospero does finally accept Caliban, he also still regards Caliban as being "as disproportioned in his manners as in his shape"; Prospero upholds his civilized superiority over this native, though to acknowledge Caliban and to also dislike his ways of being are completely contradictory views. A major theme running through the entire work is forgiveness versus vengeance; Prospero causes the tempest out of a wish for revenge, but by the end of the work, he decides to forgive the crimes against him, fabricated or otherwise. He finally declares this intent, with his words alluding to the proverb "to be able to do harm and not do it is noble." The same sentiment is also offered up in Shakespeare's Sonnet 94: "they that have power to hurt and will do noneRightly do inherit heaven's graces," that poem runs. At last, Prospero renounces the anger and resentment that marked his tone throughout the play, especially in scene 2 of the first act. Prospero declares his brothers "penitent," though they are not; Alonso expresses his regret, but Antonio, who has the most to be sorry for, expresses no remorse. The circle of forgiveness remains unresolved by the end of the play, but, in a moment of irony, Prospero believes that closure has been reached. Throughout the play, Prospero does direct a disproportionate amount of blame toward Alonso, leading him to abduct and enslave Alonso's son Ferdinand; when confronting his brothers, Prospero actually calls Antonio "a furtherer in the act," a great understatement of Antonio's actual role as prime perpetrator of the crime against Prospero. Alonso expresses complete penitence, asking Prospero to "pardon me my wrongs"; and he achieves some sort of reconciliation with Prospero, through his willingness to cooperate with Prospero's wishes of reconciliation. Also ironic is that the only crime that Prospero charges Antonio with is conspiring to kill Alonso, which Prospero himself arranged through Ariel; although Prospero focused his great anger on Antonio almost exclusively in Act 1, by the end of the play, he has, quite ironically, forgotten his primary motivation in causing the tempest and bringing his brothers and their companions to the island. As for Antonio and Sebastian, they are not satisfactorily redeemed by the end of the play, and Prospero's forgiveness, though openly and freely declared at first, is almost rescinded when he finally addresses the pair. His previously conciliatory tone turns threatening, as he says he could "justify them traitors" if he wished to do so . He even states that "to call brother would even infect mouth," which is hardly an expression of forgiveness; but, in a strange paradox of sentiment, he completes his sentence with the words "I do forgive thy rankest fault," turning an insult and a threat into some approximation of absolution . Also, Sebastian returns to his characteristic sarcasm, calling Ferdinand's survival "a most high miracle"; and his unimpressed tone is additional proof that not only is Sebastian not sorry for any wrongs, he is completely unchanged by the events of the play . In the end, the play's concern with political legitimacy is resolved by the disinheritance of the usurper, though it is unresolved in the case of Caliban. Prospero has again secured his dukedom, and also his daughter's power and marriage; and so, with Prospero's main goals achieved, the play ends. However, in an epilogue spoken by Prospero in rhymed couplets, Prospero steps outside the confines of the play to address the audience, as a character from within a fiction. The audience of the play, he says, are the ones who hold the power over his fate, and must finally forgive him for his deeds; a larger world surrounding the play is revealed, with the audience recreating the role of the author, which Prospero himself recreates, in turn, from within the play. No other Shakespeare play has quite this kind of un-ended ending to it; but, the sentiment is completely fitting, coming as it does after a play in which unfinished business is such a recurrent, pervasive theme.

Ariel tells Prospero that the day has reached its "sixth hour" , when Ariel is allowed to stop working. Prospero acknowledges Ariel's request and asks how the king and his followers are faring. Ariel tells him that they are currently imprisoned, as Prospero ordered, in a grove. Alonso, Antonio, and Sebastian are mad with fear; and Gonzalo, Ariel says, cries constantly. Prospero tells Ariel to go release the men, and now alone on stage, delivers his famous soliloquy in which he gives up magic. He says he will perform his last task and then break his staff and drown his magic book. Ariel now enters with Alonso and his companions, who have been charmed and obediently stand in a circle. Prospero speaks to them in their charmed state, praising Gonzalo for his loyalty and chiding the others for their treachery. He then sends Ariel to his cell to fetch the clothes he once wore as Duke of Milan. Ariel goes and returns immediately to help his master to put on the garments. Prospero promises to grant freedom to his loyal helper-spirit and sends him to fetch the Boatswain and mariners from the wrecked ship. Ariel goes. Prospero releases Alonso and his companions from their spell and speaks with them. He forgives Antonio but demands that Antonio return his dukedom. Antonio does not respond and does not, in fact, say a word for the remainder of the play except to note that Caliban is "no doubt marketable" . Alonso now tells Prospero of the missing Ferdinand. Prospero tells Alonso that he, too, has lost a child in this last tempest--his daughter. Alonso continues to be wracked with grief. Prospero then draws aside a curtain, revealing behind it Ferdinand and Miranda, who are playing a game of chess. Alonso is ecstatic at the discovery. Meanwhile, the sight of more humans impresses Miranda. Alonso embraces his son and daughter-in-law to be and begs Miranda's forgiveness for the treacheries of twelve years ago. Prospero silences Alonso's apologies, insisting that the reconciliation is complete. After arriving with the Boatswain and mariners, Ariel is sent to fetch Caliban, Trinculo, and Stephano, which he speedily does. The three drunken thieves are sent to Prospero's cell to return the clothing they stole and to clean it in preparation for the evening's reveling. Prospero then invites Alonso and his company to stay the night. He will tell them the tale of his last twelve years, and in the morning, they can all set out for Naples, where Miranda and Ferdinand will be married. After the wedding, Prospero will return to Milan, where he plans to contemplate the end of his life. The last charge Prospero gives to Ariel before setting him free is to make sure the trip home is made on "calm seas" with "auspicious gales" . The other characters exit, and Prospero delivers the epilogue. He describes the loss of his magical powers  and says that, as he imprisoned Ariel and Caliban, the audience has now imprisoned him on the stage. He says that the audience can only release him by applauding, and asks them to remember that his only desire was to please them. He says that, as his listeners would like to have their own crimes forgiven, they should forgive him, and set him free by clapping.

Analysis In this scene, all of the play's characters are brought on stage together for the first time. Prospero repeatedly says that he is relinquishing his magic, but its presence pervades the scene. He enters in his magic robes. He brings Alonso and the others into a charmed circle  and holds them there for about fifty lines. Once he releases them from the spell, he makes the magician-like spectacle of unveiling Miranda and Ferdinand behind a curtain, playing chess . His last words of the play proper are a command to Ariel to ensure for him a safe voyage home. Only in the epilogue, when he is alone on-stage, does Prospero announce definitively that his charms are "all o'erthrown" . When Prospero passes judgment on his enemies in the final scene, we are no longer put off by his power, both because his love for Miranda has humanized him to a great extent, and also because we now can see that, over the course of the play, his judgments generally have been justified. Gonzalo is an "honourable man" ; Alonso did, and knows he did, treat Prospero "ost cruelly" ; and Antonio is an "nnatural" brother . Caliban, Stephano, and Trinculo, led in sheepishly in their stolen apparel at line 258, are so foolish as to deserve punishment, and Prospero's command that they "trim" his cell "handsomely" in preparation for the evening's revels seems mild. Accusing his enemies neither more nor less than they deserve, and forgiving them instantly once he has been restored to his dukedom, Prospero has at last come to seem judicious rather than arbitrary in his use of power. Of course, it helps that Prospero's most egregious sins have been mitigated by the outcome of events. He will no longer hold Ariel and Caliban as slaves because he is giving up his magic and returning to Naples. Moreover, he will no longer dominate Miranda because she is marrying Ferdinand. Prospero has made the audience see the other characters clearly and accurately. What is remarkable is the fact that the most sympathetic character in the play, Miranda, still cannot. Miranda's last lines are her most famous: "O wonder!" she exclaims upon seeing the company Prospero has assembled. "How many goodly creatures are there here! / How beauteous mankind is! O brave new world / That has such people in't!" . From Miranda's innocent perspective, such a remark seems genuine and even true. But from the audience's perspective, it must seem somewhat ridiculous. After all, Antonio and Sebastian are still surly and impudent; Alonso has repented only after believing his son to be dead; and Trinculo and Stephano are drunken, petty thieves. However, Miranda speaks from the perspective of someone who has not seen any human being except her father since she was three years old. She is merely delighted by the spectacle of all these people. In a sense, her innocence may be shared to some extent by the playwright, who takes delight in creating and presenting a vast array of humanity, from kings to traitors, from innocent virgins to inebriated would-be murderers. As a result, though Miranda's words are to some extent undercut by irony, it is not too much of a stretch to think that Shakespeare really does mean this benediction on a world "hat has such people in't!" After all, Prospero is another stand-in for the playwright, and he forgives all the wrongdoers at the end of the play. There is an element in the conclusion of The Tempest that celebrates the multiplicity and variety of human life, which, while it may result in complication and ambiguity, also creates humor, surprise, and love. If The Tempest is read, as it often is, as a celebration of creativity and art, the aging Shakespeare's swan song to the theater, then this closing benediction may have a much broader application than just to this play, referring to the breadth of humanity that inspired the breadth of Shakespeare's characters. Similarly, Prospero's final request for applause in the monologue functions as a request for forgiveness, not merely for the wrongs he has committed in this play. It also requests forgiveness for the beneficent tyranny of creativity itself, in which an author, like a Prospero, moves people at his will, controls the minds of others, creates situations to suit his aims, and arranges outcomes entirely in the service of his own idea of goodness or justice or beauty. In this way, the ambiguity surrounding Prospero's power in The Tempest may be inherent to art itself. Like Prospero, authors work according to their own conceptions of a desirable or justifiable outcome. But as in The Tempest, a happy ending can restore harmony, and a well-developed play can create an authentic justice, even if it originates entirely in the mind of the author. The plot of The Tempest is organized around the idea of persuasion, as Prospero gradually moves his sense of justice from his own mind into the outside world, gradually applying it to everyone around him until the audience believes it, too. This aggressive persuasiveness makes Prospero difficult to admire at times. Still, in another sense, persuasion characterizes the entire play, which seeks to enthrall audiences with its words and magic as surely as Prospero sought to enthrall Ariel. And because the audience decides whether it believes in the play--whether to applaud, as Prospero asks them to do--the real power lies not with the playwright, but with the viewer, not with the imagination that creates the story, but with the imagination that receives it. In this way, Shakespeare transforms the troubling ambiguity of the play into a surprising cause for celebration. The power wielded by Prospero, which seemed unsettling at first, is actually the source of all of our pleasure in the drama. In fact, it is the reason we came to the theater in the first place.


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.]

A ship is being bombarded by thunder, lightning and rain--in short--a tempest that seems worse than the big storm in King Lear. Boat crew members try to keep everything afloat for their passengers, who are, as follows: Alonso , Sebastian , Antonio , Ferdinand , and Gonzalo . Basically, it's a hubbub of courtly figures putzing around while the experienced sailors are trying to save everyone from drowning. Drowning is likely in this storm, since the ship is described as "leaky as an unstaunched wench." The King and Prince take the advice of the sailors and go below deck to pray while Antonio, Sebastian, and Gonzalo stay above. Gonzalo has already exchanged words with the boatswain, who was testy to the royals. Antonio and Sebastian show their nasty dispositions, calling the boatswain an uncharitable dog and a whoreson. Yowch. While everyone's busy being friendly, a mariner demands that everyone should get busy and pray because "all's lost!" The boat splits and everyone seems to go their separate ways into the water. Brain Snack: Shakespeare has always liked to insert a good shipwreck into his plays but the wreck in The Tempest may have been inspired by a real-life accident at sea. In 1609, the Sea Venture was on its way from England to Jamestown when it wrecked in the Bermudas. The crew was thought to be lost forever but managed to survive on an uninhabited island for about nine months--to everyone's shock and dismay, the crew built two new ships and sailed on to Jamestown.

The Tempest opens in the midst of a fierce storm. The location is a ship at sea, with a royal party on board. As the sailors fight to save the ship, several of the royal passengers enter, and Alonso, the king, demands to know where the master is to be found. The boatswain, worried that the passengers will interfere, orders them to go below deck. The king's councilor, Gonzalo, reminds the boatswain that he is speaking to the king, but the boatswain points out that if the king really has so much power, he should use it to quell the storm. If he lacks this power, the royal party should go below decks, as the boatswain orders. The royal party exits, presumably to go below deck to seek shelter. Within moments, however, Antonio, Sebastian, and Gonzalo have returned topside again, much to the boatswain's annoyance. With Sebastian and Antonio cursing him, the boatswain continues in his efforts to save the ship. Soon, however, the sailors enter with laments that the ship is lost. Fearing that they will all soon die, Antonio, Sebastian, and Gonzalo elect to join the rest of the royal party below decks, where they will pray for their survival.

The opening confrontation between Gonzalo and the boatswain reveals one of the most important themes in The Tempest: class conflict, the discord between those who seize and hold power and those who are often the unwilling victims of power. When confronted by members of the royal party, the boatswain orders that they return below deck. He is performing his job, and to stop in response to Alonso's request for the master would be foolish. The boatswain cares little for Alonso's rank as king and asks, "What cares these roarers for the name of king?" . The king has no protection from the storm simply because of his rank, because the storm has little care for a man's social or political position. In response, Gonzalo urges the boatswain to remember that the king and his party are the passengers. The implication is that the boatswain should also remember that his social rank makes him subservient to the royal party, regardless of the circumstances. Gonzalo's words are a clear reminder that even in the midst of a storm, class or status remains an important part of life. However, the boatswain is not intimidated and responds that the royal party should "use your authority," to stop the storm . As far as the boatswain is concerned, all men are equal in a storm and all equally at risk. Alonso seems to understand that the captain is the ship's final authority, at least initially. His original request for the master reflects his belief that the master is in charge of the ship, and that, as passengers, he  and his retinue fall under the captain's authority. But alarm at the severity of the storm and frustration at the boatswain's order to go below decks causes the king's party to fall back on the rules of land -- the king is the final authority. The boatswain's telling Gonzalo that the king should use his authority to stop the storm is a reminder that the king has no authority under these circumstances. Although he can control men , even the king cannot control nature. The storm and the subsequent rebellion on ship is a metaphor for the rebellion occurring in English society. In the Elizabethan and Jacobean world, English society was defined by its class system, in which individuals were born into specific classes by divine right. In the natural order of things , therefore, the aristocracy is superior. Although the characters of The Tempest are depicted as Italian in origin, their experiences and conflicts are English. Indeed, the passengers, who never forget that they are socially superior to the crew, need to be reminded that, during a storm, the captain of the ship is the final authority. Furthermore, in the period just prior to the composition of The Tempest, English society had been rocked by political, social, and religious conflicts. The Gunpowder Plot , for example, serves as an illustration of the conflict between the Protestant James and his Catholic subjects. The goal of the Roman Catholic conspirators was to murder James and kill the members of both houses of Parliament; fortunately for James, the plot failed. The social unrest in England, however, was exacerbated by James' extravagant spending on court entertainment, especially the lavishly staged masques, and the contrast between the poor and the rich became even more evident. Although James subjects lived in severe poverty, their burden was increased as they were taxed to pay for the king's masques. In response, unrest grew and would erupt several years later into revolution. There are many tempests to be explored during the course of The Tempest. In addition to class conflict, there are also explorations into colonialism  and a desire to find or create a utopian society. The storm scene that opens The Tempest establishes nature as an important element of the play and emphasizes the role of nature in society. Other tempests will be revealed in subsequent scenes, such as the emotional tempests that familial conflict creates ; the tempests of discord  and of forbidden love . Finally, there are the tempests caused by the inherent conflict between generations. So, although The Tempest might correctly be called a romantic comedy, the title and the opening scene portend an exploration of conflicts more complex than romantic. Glossary yarely briskly or smartly. Here the boatswain is instructing the sailors to move quickly or the ship will be pushed aground by the storm. roarers noisy and unruly waves; here so called because they care little for royal rank. boatswain the ship's petty officer, in charge of the deck crew, the rigging, anchors, boats, and so on. drowning mark refers to a mole, located on the boatswain's face, the appearance of which was thought to portend a person's manner of death. In this case, the boatswain's mole appears to be the type that predicts a death by hanging. merely  absolutely; altogether; here, it means that they are completely cheated of their lives by drunkards.