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The Tempest - Act 1, scene 2

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Act 1, scene 2.

Prospero, the former duke of Milan, who has been stranded on a barren island for twelve years with his daughter, Miranda, explains to her that he used his magic to raise the storm and that he ensured that no one on the ship was harmed. He then tells her how, twelve years before, his brother Antonio conspired with Alonso, king of Naples, to usurp Prospero’s dukedom and put him and Miranda to sea, where they happened upon the barren island that is now their home. Having charmed Miranda asleep, Prospero summons the spirit Ariel, hears Ariel’s report of the tempest, and gives him further orders. Prospero wakes Miranda, and they visit Caliban, whom Prospero threatens with torture if he will not continue his labors. Ariel, invisible, entices Ferdinand, son and heir to Alonso, into the presence of Prospero and Miranda. Prospero, delighted that Ferdinand and Miranda fall instantly in love, puts false obstacles in their way by accusing Ferdinand of treason and by using charms to enslave him.

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Easy Insightful Literature Notes

The Tempest Act I Scene 2 Summary

Plot summary / the story-line.

In Act I, Scene-ii of William Shakespeare’s play “The Tempest”, we get introduced to the main characters like Prospero and Miranda. Now the setting of scene one is changed into another environ that is of a nearby island. Miranda is very upset on account of the incident of the shipwreck that makes her lose calm composure of mind. Her agitated soul becomes anxious for the mariners of the sinking vessel. Prospero assures her that no one will be harmed.

Prospero now starts narrating his story about his past and about who Miranda is. Miranda was eager to know that as well. Once Prospero was the duke of Milan. Naive Miranda learns a lot about her father’s dukedom and devotion to studies of music and liberal arts. In effect he neglected the governance of his kingdom. Antonio was his brother, a man politically astute and scheming, who entered upon the conspiracy against Prospero.

Prospero narrates how he was deposed by Antonio who was in league with King Alonso. Prospero and two-year old Miranda were set adrift by the conspirators. Their small boat was abandoned at sea. They chanced foot on an island of unknown origin. They have lived there since. Antonio, a voracious scholar, has raised the storm by his magic to bring his old enemies to the island. It was compassionate Gonzalo who supplied Prospero with the books he prized most.

Prospero puts Miranda to sleep with his magic in the middle of his narrative. Prospero now calls upon Ariel who reports that he has entranced the passengers of the sinking vessel. It also informs him how he has harassed the passengers and left the ship safe at anchor with the mariners asleep under the hatches.

Ariel has taken particular care about Ferdinand, the son of king Alonso. Ariel now grumbles a little about his heavy task of drudgery he is given by Prospero. On hearing it the magician sternly reminds Ariel that he is bound to work hard in exchange for his rescue from the imprisonment in tree trunk imposed by the witch Sycorax. Prospero assures him saying that if the present scheme is successful he would set him free. Ariel is instructed to wear the cloak of invisibility to avoid being exposed to others. Ariel leaves and Miranda awakes from sleep.

Now Prospero calls Caliban, a half human savage. He is the son of the witch Sycorax. Again, Ariel returns to carry out further task and is sent away. Caliban complains about his slavery. Prospero reminds him his savage act of rape that he tried on Miranda. Then Caliban is sent to gather wood.

Ariel now goes to Ferdinand amazing him, singing fairy songs. A little later, Miranda meets Ferdinand. She is rivetingly amazed to see Ferdinand, the very first young man she has seen on the island. Such encounter is equally charming to Ferdinand. Prospero notices that both Ferdinand and Miranda are lost and rapt in each other. It was an impulse of love between them. It is what Prospero has always wanted. But in Miranda’s presence, Prospero shows his stern attitude to Ferdinand. Ferdinand attempts to draw his sword but is prevented by Prospero’s magic and is led away as a prisoner.

Commentary on Act 1, Scene 2

Act one scene two of the play “The Tempest” is strikingly opposite to that of the first scene with its quiet and repose. It an exposition scene through which we are conversant with the tale of Prospero’s banishment along with his infant daughter Miranda and subsequent misfortunes that he suffered along with his daughter. Its reflective mood is indicative of philosophic bent of mind of Prospero and over-anxious nature of Miranda.

Nothing significant happens in this scene; it is rather retrogression of Prospero’s previous life. Magic pervades the entire scene as the most important thematic motif that precipitates the action of the story. Such ingenious method of bringing enemies form distant land is a novel dramatic stratagem used by Shakespeare.

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Ariel reports to prospero.

Act 1 Scene 2 – Key Scene

In this scene, Ariel describes for Prospero what the storm was like for those on the ship and how he terrified everyone on board the ship with his magical antics.

You can take a look at the scene and watch it in performance here. Using the following steps, remember to look at it line by line and if you’re watching the scene for the first time, don’t worry if you don’t understand everything at once.

Learned and respected gentleman.

Ariel may be talking about all the skills or 'quality' he has here, or he may be talking about the other spirits of the island who work with him.

I went on-board the king’s ship and appeared as fire on the prow of the ship, then in the middle of the ship, on the deck and in the cabins.

Quicker than the eye can follow.

What do these lines suggest about the strength of the storm?

Who was so calm and together that this turmoil would not make him go mad?

Everyone except the sailors jumped into the turbulent sea and left the ship which was all flaming with my presence.

Why do you think Prospero seems so pleased that everyone on the ship was scared?

Play Scene in rehearsal and performance

Prospero and Ariel.

Ariel appears before Prospero.

Ariel approaches Prospero.

Prospero stands over Ariel.

Ariel reports to Prospero.

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Enter ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, 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.

Prithee, peace.

He receives comfort like cold porridge.

The visitor will not give him o'er so.

Look he's winding up the watch of his wit; by and by it will strike.

When every grief is entertain'd that's offer'd, Comes to the entertainer--

Dolour comes to him, indeed: you have spoken truer than you purposed.

You have taken it wiselier than I meant you should.

Therefore, my lord,--

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.

The cockerel.

Done. The wager?

A laughter.

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 beyond credit,--

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 salt water.

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 their queen.

Not since widow Dido's time.

Widow! a pox o' that! How came that widow in? widow Dido!

What if he had said 'widower AEneas' too? Good Lord, how you take it!

'Widow Dido' said you? you make me study of that: she was of Carthage, not of Tunis.

This Tunis, sir, was Carthage.

I assure you, Carthage.

His word is more than the miraculous harp; he hath raised the wall and houses too.

What impossible matter will he make easy next?

I think he will carry this island home in his pocket and give it his son for an apple.

And, sowing the kernels of it in the sea, bring forth more islands.

Why, in good time.

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.

Bate, I beseech you, widow Dido.

O, widow Dido! ay, widow Dido.

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 To the shore, that o'er his wave-worn basis bow'd, As stooping to relieve him: 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 lose 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.

And most chirurgeonly.

It is foul weather in us all, good sir, When you are cloudy.

Foul weather?

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; No sovereignty;--

Yet he would be king on't.

The latter end of his commonwealth forgets the beginning.

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 nothing still.

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 ANTONIO

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.

Why 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.

Noble Sebastian, 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.

Thus, sir: 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?

I remember You did supplant your brother Prospero.

True: 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 kibe, '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.

Draw together; 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, Open-eyed conspiracy His time doth take. If of life you keep a care, Shake off slumber, and beware: Awake, awake!

Then let us both be sudden.

Now, good angels Preserve the king. They wake

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.

Prospero my lord shall know what I have done: So, king, go safely on to seek thy son. Exeunt

The Tempest: Act 1, Scene 2 Translation

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The Tempest - How does Shakespeare maintain dramatic interest in Act 1 Scene 2.

How does Shakespeare maintain dramatic interest in Act 1 Scene 2?

         The relative calm of Act 1 Scene 2 provides a sharp contrast with disorderly melodrama of the previous scene. The second scene of act one recounts the story of how Prospero and Miranda came to be on the island, introduces Ariel and Caliban and shows Ferdinand come ashore and fall in love at first sight.

         The scene begins with Miranda expressing her alarm that her father has caused the ‘wild waters’ with his ‘art’. Despite the immediately evident slower moving pace of the scene, created by the longer and more ordered speech of the characters, Shakespeare still creates dramatic interest with this line by altering the audience’s perceptions of what has happened in the previous scene. The Tempest is a play where things seem  to happen, yet often do not. The storm in the previous scene seems to be natural, yet Miranda’s revelation it makes irony of the boatswain’s line ‘What care these roarers for the name of the king?’, again transforming the audience’s perceptions. The ‘roarers’ are merely the work of Prospero who knows well the king. Prospero’s declaration that ‘There’s no harm done’ when in the previous scene it seemed as if everyone aboard the ship had perished also radically alters the audience’s set perception of Scene 1. Miranda’s reference to the ‘god of power’ also makes Prospero seem even more powerful immediately attracting the audience to character who can harm and save with his mysterious ‘art’. By transformation of the audience’s perception on Scene 1 Shakespeare is initially able to engage the audience’s attention in Scene 2, despite the contrasting lack of action.

         The Tempest is different from other Shakespeare plays because the play tells only the end of a story (of Prospero’s exile). Rather than choose to have the story of Prospero and Miranda acted out, avoiding the need to strenuously maintain dramatic interest, Shakespeare chooses to have it retold. This choice coupled with the need to clear the confusion of Scene 1 means that much of Scene 2 is reserved for explaining plot and character to the audience, rather than continuing action in the present. This lack of action means several techniques are employed instead to keep an audience attentive. In place of a narrator, who would most likely not hold the audience’s interest due to an excessive detachment from the protagonists, Prospero is used. By using Prospero, Shakespeare can still create a connection between the past and the present through the emotional effect of Prospero’s narration of his clearly distressing tale upon his character. ‘My brother...called Antonio...mark me, that a brother should be so perfidious – he whom next thyself of all the world I loved’, Prospero’s dramatic outpouring of emotion before he has even begun his story is an extremely effective way of engaging an audience. The idea of the long, brooding emotions built up on the island overcoming Prospero is continued with the use of dashes (as if he is in broken thought) on lines 110 to 115. To keep the audience’s attention for the duration of Prospero’s speech, Shakespeare uses the premise that Miranda is not listening attentively enough. This requires Prospero to chide her, ‘Dost thou attend me?’. He could equally be seen as addressing the audience, keeping their attention, whilst Miranda’s interjections help break up an overlong speech that would require the audience to concentrate for too long a period. Nonetheless, Prospero’s calls on Miranda to listen seem gratuitous in the context of their conversation. It is here the idea of the character as narrator falls short. Earlier in the scene when Prospero announces himself, explicitly more to the audience than Miranda, ‘I am...Prospero, master of a full poor cell and thy no greater father’, there is again a conflicting role between character and a clarifying narrator which Shakespeare has not effectively disguised.

         Prospero’s assertion of himself as ‘master’ of the island also ties into one of the themes of the play. Several other characters in the play also seek to assert to their claim upon the island (ie Caliban, ‘This island’s mine’), evoking the notion of colonialism and power over territory. Within Act 1, parallels can also be drawn by the audience between Antonio’s theft of Prospero’s kingdom and Prospero’s theft of Caliban’s island. The mirroring of the two events would help an audience to find continuity between Prospero’s past and his present situation, maintaining a dramatic interest.

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         Within the language of Prospero and Miranda there is also much to keep and audience occupied. To begin with Prospero talks in near riddles with a strangely repetitive speech ‘There’s no harm done ... No harm  I have done ...but in care of thee , of thee  my dear one thee  my daughter’. Prospero’s language as he recounts their story is, however, very different. The language is condensed in order to avoid an overlong recitation of events. Note the omission of pronouns ‘to my state grew stranger, being transported and rapt in secret studies’.

         The language of characters who arrive later in the scene, Ariel and Caliban is also interesting. Ariel, a spirit, uses language full of movement ‘be’t to fly, to swim to dive into the fire, to ride on the curled clouds’, while Caliban use base language of the earth and animals ‘the fresh springs, brine pits, barren place...toads, beetles bats’.

         Shakespeare’s method of introduction for these two characters is also interesting. Ariel having just completed what Prospero has asked of him, requests his freedom, this incites Prospero angering him ‘Dost thou forget from what a torment I did free thee?’. By these means Shakespeare uses Prospero to tell the history of Ariel, this is of great benefit for filling in the audience on the story. The fact that Prospero has enslaved Ariel behaving in a similar way to Sycorax who he derides in the story as ‘foul witch’ would draw an interesting moral parallel for the audience. Prospero’s anger helps to retain the audience’s attention, creating dramatic interest in the conflict between these two characters. Shakespeare also uses the story to introduce Caliban ‘a freckled whelp hag-born  - not honoured with a human shape’. This description of Caliban before he is even on stage provides dramatic suspense for the audience as to how this ‘monster’ will appear. Prospero also makes Caliban’s crudeness obvious ‘thou earth’.

         The immediate conflict between Caliban and Prospero, and trading of insults, maintains the dramatic interest in what is effectively a character introduction. It also evokes the theme of forgiveness. Is it acceptable that Prospero enslaves Caliban and steals his island because he has tried to ‘violate’ Miranda? Caliban’s lack of remorse ‘would’t had been done! ... I had peopled this isle with Calibans’ makes this question even harder.

         The character of Caliban links to another them of the play; nature or nurture. Prospero has taught Caliban language, trying to make the savage noble. Can Caliban be blamed for actions as he is no more than a ‘monster’? Is it his nature or can he be changed? Has Prospero failed? All these questions provide a great deal of interest for an audience.

         In contrast with Caliban and Ariel, the introduction of Ferdinand is not particularly enthralling. Shakespeare introduces the idea of a love story between Miranda and Ferdinand to create a greater interest. However, it must be asked, how much interest does the audience have in this love at first sight between two underdeveloped characters who remain so throughout the play? The love story appears more as a half-hearted side line to the more dramatically interesting relationship of Prospero and his servants.

         Aside from the few themes I have already mentioned, this scene contains many themes which all help to maintain dramatic interest. For instance in addition to the parallel of Prospero as the supposedly benevolent magician and Sycorax as a malignant witch there are parallels or opposites between other characters. Caliban and Ariel represents opposites of servitude. Ariel is compliant and willing, whilst Caliban is insubordinate. There is also an interest contrast between non-human Ariel who often has more compassion than the humans around him. Ferdinand and Caliban represent very contrasting suitors to Miranda.

         Themes of the scene tend to revolve around the responsibilities of power. Who has the right to control the island? As Caliban says ‘This island’s mine, by Sycorax my mother’. Prospero has already had his kingdom usurped by Antonio for which he accepts some of his own fault. His ‘trust...sans bound’. Prospero neglected his state by ‘being...rapt in secret studies’, yet has stolen Caliban’s island. This is similar to the Elizabethan colonialists who would steal land in the Americas, often on the false grounds that the original inhabitants were not human. To the audience of the time the parallels would be obvious. This would put Act 1 Scene 2, and the play in a very different light.

         By using the devices I have mentioned above, Shakespeare retains the audience’s interest for the duration of Act 1 Scene 2. Although Shakespeare attempts to give the context of the play within the story of the scene, it is often too explicit to be the real words of the characters. Nonetheless, by using the protagonists to set the scene for the play rather than a detached narrator Shakespeare is on the whole successful in maintaining dramatic interest.

Document Details

• Word Count 1597
• Page Count 3
• Subject English

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The Tempest Original Text: Act 1, Scene 2

This page contains the original text of Act 1, Scene 2 of The Tempest . Shakespeare’s original The Tempest text is extremely long, so we’ve split the text into one Scene per page. All Acts and Scenes are listed on the The Tempest text page, or linked to from the bottom of this page.

ACT 1. SCENE 2. The island. Before PROSPERO’S cell.

Enter PROSPERO and MIRANDA

If by your art, my dearest father, 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.

Be collected: No more amazement: tell your piteous heart There’s no harm done.

O, woe the day!

No harm. 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 Prospero, master of a full poor cell, And thy no greater father.

More to know Did never meddle with my thoughts.

‘Tis time I should inform thee farther. Lend thy hand, And pluck my magic garment from me. So:

Lays down his 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, sir, I can.

By what? by any other house or person? Of any thing the image tell me that Hath kept with thy remembrance.

‘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 father was the Duke of Milan and A prince of power.

Sir, are not you my father?

Thy mother was a piece of virtue, and She said thou wast my daughter; and thy father Was Duke of Milan; and thou his 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, farther.

My brother and thy uncle, call’d Antonio– I pray thee, mark me–that a brother should Be so perfidious!–he whom next thyself Of all the world I loved and to him put The manage of my state; as at that time Through all the signories it was the first And Prospero the prime duke, being so reputed In dignity, and for the liberal arts Without a parallel; those being all my study, The government I cast upon my brother And to my state grew stranger, being transported And rapt in secret studies. Thy false uncle– Dost thou attend me?

Sir, most heedfully.

Being once perfected how to grant suits, How to deny them, who to advance and who To trash for over-topping, new created The creatures that were mine, I say, or changed ’em, Or else new form’d ’em; having both the key Of officer and office, set all hearts i’ the state To what tune pleased his ear; that now he was The ivy which had hid my princely trunk, And suck’d my verdure out on’t. 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 With that which, but by being so retired, O’er-prized all popular rate, in my false brother Awaked an evil nature; and my trust, Like a good parent, did beget of him A falsehood in its contrary as great As my trust was; which had indeed no limit, A confidence sans bound. He being thus lorded, Not only with what my revenue yielded, But what my power might else exact, like one Who having into truth, by telling of it, Made such a sinner of his memory, To credit his own lie, he did believe He was indeed the duke; out o’ the substitution And executing the outward face of royalty, With all prerogative: hence his ambition growing– Dost thou hear?

Your tale, sir, would cure deafness.

To have no screen between this part he play’d And him he play’d it for, he needs will be Absolute Milan. Me, poor man, my library Was dukedom large enough: of temporal royalties He thinks me now incapable; confederates– So dry he was for sway–wi’ the King of Naples To give him annual tribute, do him homage, Subject his coronet to his crown and bend The dukedom yet unbow’d–alas, poor Milan!– To most ignoble stooping.

O the heavens!

Mark his condition and the event; then tell me If this might be a brother.

I should sin To think but nobly of my grandmother: Good wombs have borne bad sons.

Now the condition. The King of Naples, being an enemy To me inveterate, hearkens my brother’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 brother: whereon, A treacherous army levied, one midnight Fated to the purpose did Antonio 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! I, not remembering how I cried out then, Will cry it o’er again: it is a hint That wrings mine eyes to’t.

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. Thou didst smile. Infused with a fortitude from heaven, When I have deck’d the sea with drops full salt, Under my burthen groan’d; which raised in me An undergoing stomach, to bear up Against what should ensue.

How came we ashore?

By Providence divine. Some food we had and some fresh water that A noble Neapolitan, Gonzalo, Out of his charity, being then appointed Master of this design, 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 his mantle

Sit still, and hear the last of our sea-sorrow. Here in this island we arrived; and here Have I, thy schoolmaster, 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 pray you, sir, 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 dulness, And give it way: I know thou canst not choose.

MIRANDA sleeps

Come away, servant, come. I am ready now. Approach, my Ariel, come.

Enter ARIEL

All hail, great master! grave sir, hail! I come To answer thy best pleasure; be’t to fly, To swim, to dive into the fire, to ride On the curl’d clouds, to thy strong bidding task Ariel and all his quality.

Hast thou, spirit, Perform’d 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 play’d 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 leap’d; cried, ‘Hell is empty And all the devils are here.’

Why that’s my spirit! But was not this nigh shore?

Close by, my master.

But are they, Ariel, safe?

Not a hair perish’d; 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; in the deep nook, where once Thou call’dst me up at midnight to fetch dew From the still-vex’d Bermoothes, there she’s hid: The mariners all under hatches stow’d; Who, with a charm join’d to their suffer’d 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 wreck’d And his great person perish.

Ariel, thy charge Exactly is perform’d: 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 perform’d me.

How now? moody? What is’t thou canst demand?

My liberty.

Before the time be out? no more!

I prithee, 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, sir.

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. Where was she born? speak; tell me.

Sir, in Argier.

O, was she so? I must Once in a month recount what thou hast been, Which thou forget’st. This damn’d witch Sycorax, For mischiefs manifold and sorceries terrible To enter human hearing, from Argier, Thou know’st, was banish’d: for one thing she did They would not take her life. Is not this true?

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 abhorr’d 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 honour’d 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 damn’d, 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, master.

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.

Pardon, master; 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 master! 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, sir, 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?

Re-enter ARIEL like a water-nymph

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!

Enter CALIBAN

As wicked dew as e’er my mother brush’d 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 pinch’d 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.

Abhorred slave, 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. But thy vile race, Though thou didst learn, had that in’t which good natures Could not abide to be with; therefore wast thou Deservedly confined into this rock, Who hadst deserved more than a prison.

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!

Hag-seed, hence! Fetch us in fuel; and be quick, thou’rt best, To answer other business. 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: his art is of such power, It would control my dam’s god, Setebos, and make a vassal of him.

So, slave; hence!

Exit CALIBAN

Re-enter ARIEL, invisible, playing and singing; FERDINAND following

ARIEL’S song. Come unto these yellow sands, And then take hands: Courtsied when you have and kiss’d The wild waves whist, Foot it featly here and there; And, sweet sprites, the burthen bear. Hark, hark!

Burthen [dispersedly, within

The watch-dogs bark!

Burthen Bow-wow

Hark, hark! I hear The strain of strutting chanticleer Cry, Cock-a-diddle-dow.

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 follow’d it, Or it hath drawn me rather. But ’tis gone. No, it begins again.

ARIEL sings

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

Burthen Ding-dong

Hark! now I hear them,–Ding-dong, bell.

The ditty does remember my drown’d 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 stain’d 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.

To FERDINAND

A word, good sir; I fear you have done yourself some wrong: a word.

Why speaks my father so ungently? This Is the third man that e’er I saw, the first That e’er I sigh’d for: pity move my father 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 owest 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.

Follow me. 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, wither’d roots and husks Wherein the acorn cradled. Follow.

No; I will resist such entertainment till Mine enemy has more power.

Draws, and is charmed from moving

O dear father, Make not too rash a trial of him, for He’s gentle and not fearful.

What? I say, My foot my tutor? Put thy sword up, traitor; Who makest a show but darest not strike, thy conscience Is so possess’d with guilt: come from thy ward, For I can here disarm thee with this stick And make thy weapon drop.

Beseech you, father.

Hence! hang not on my garments.

Sir, 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.

My affections 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 man’s threats, To whom I am subdued, are but light to me, Might I but through my prison once a day Behold this maid: all corners else o’ the earth Let liberty make use of; space enough Have I in such a prison.

[Aside] It works.

Come on. 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.

Come, follow. Speak not for him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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The Tempest

William shakespeare, ask litcharts ai: the answer to your questions.

During the time when The Tempest was written and first performed, both Shakespeare and his audiences would have been very interested in the efforts of English and other European settlers to colonize distant lands around the globe. The Tempest explores the complex and problematic relationship between the European colonizer and the native colonized peoples through the relationship between Prospero and Caliban. Prospero views Caliban as a lesser being than himself. As such, Prospero believes that Caliban should be grateful to him for educating Caliban and lifting him out of "savagery." It simply does not occur to Prospero that he has stolen rulership of the island from Caliban, because Prospero can't imagine Caliban as being fit to rule anything. In contrast, Caliban soon realizes that Prospero views him as a second-class citizen fit only to serve and that by giving up his rulership of the island in return for his education, he has allowed himself to be robbed. As a result, Caliban turns bitter and violent, which only reinforces Prospero's view of him as a "savage." Shakespeare uses Prospero and Caliban's relationship to show how the misunderstandings between the colonizer and the colonized lead to hatred and conflict, with each side thinking that the other is at fault.

In addition to the relationship between the colonizer and colonized, The Tempest also explores the fears and opportunities that colonization creates. Exposure to new and different peoples leads to racism and intolerance, as seen when Sebastian criticizes Alonso for allowing his daughter to marry an African. Exploration and colonization led directly to slavery and the conquering of native peoples. For instance, Stephano and Trinculo both consider capturing Caliban to sell as a curiosity back at home, while Stephano eventually begins to see himself as a potential king of the island. At the same time, the expanded territories established by colonization created new places in which to experiment with alternative societies. Shakespeare conveys this idea in Gonzalo's musings about the perfect civilization he would establish if he could acquire a territory of his own.

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Colonization Quotes in The Tempest

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