The Tempest

Paperback | November 24, 2015

byWilliam Shakespeare

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Performed variously as escapist fantasy, celebratory fiction, and political allegory, The Tempest is one of the plays in which William Shakespeare's genius as a poetic dramatist found its fullest expression. This Penguin Shakespeare edition is edited with an introduction by Martin Butler. 'How many goodly creatures are there here! How beauteous mankind is! O brave new world, That has such people in't!' A storm rages. Prospero, his daughter Miranda, and his monstrous servant Caliban watch from their desert island as a ship carrying the royal family is wrecked. Miraculously, all on board survive. Plotting, mistaken identities, bewitching love and drunkenness follow as the travellers explore the strange place of spirits and monsters on which they have landed. They soon begin to realize all is not as it seems, in a play whose magical setting and classical unity of time and place have inspired films as varied as Forbidden Planet, Peter Greenaway's Prospero's Books, and Julie Taymor's The Tempest, starring Helen Mirren as 'Prospera'. This book contains a general introduction to Shakespeare's life and Elizabethan theatre, a separate introduction to The Tempest, a chronology, suggestions for further reading, an essay discussing performance options on both stage and screen, and a commentary. If you enjoyed The Tempest, you might like The Merchant of Venice, also available in Penguin Shakespeare. 'Shakespeare, coming upon me unawares, struck me like a thunderbolt' Hector Berlioz

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Performed variously as escapist fantasy, celebratory fiction, and political allegory, The Tempest is one of the plays in which William Shakespeare's genius as a poetic dramatist found its fullest expression. This Penguin Shakespeare edition is edited with an introduction by Martin Butler. 'How many goodly creatures are there here! Ho...

William Shakespeare was born to John Shakespeare and Mary Arden in late April 1564 in Stratford-upon-Avon. He wrote about 38 plays (the precise number is uncertain), many of which are regarded as the most exceptional works of drama ever produced, including Romeo and Juliet (1595), Henry V (1599), Hamlet (1601), Othello (1604), King Lea...

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Format:PaperbackDimensions:240 pages, 7.8 × 5 × 0.6 inPublished:November 24, 2015Publisher:Penguin UkLanguage:English

The following ISBNs are associated with this title:

ISBN - 10:014139630X

ISBN - 13:9780141396309

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Chapter 1list of partsPROSPERO, the right Duke of MilanMIRANDA, his daughterALONSO, King of NaplesSEBASTIAN, his brotherANTONIO, Prospero's brother, the usurping Duke of MilanFERDINAND, son to the King of NaplesGONZALO, an honest old councillorADRIAN and FRANCISCO, lordsTRINCULO, a jesterSTEPHANO, a drunken butlerMASTER, of a shipBOATSWAINMARINERSCALIBAN, a savage and deformed slaveARIEL, an airy spiritIRIS, CERES, JUNO, spirits commanded by Prosperoplaying roles of NYMPHS, REAPERSThe Scene: an uninhabited islandAct 1 Scene 1 running scene 1A tempestuous noise of thunder and lightning heard. Enter a Shipmaster and a BoatswainMASTER Boatswain!BOATSWAIN Here, master. What cheer?MASTER Good: speak to th'mariners. Fall to't yarely, or we run ourselves aground! Bestir, bestir! ExitEnter MarinersBOATSWAIN Heigh, my hearts! Cheerly, cheerly, my hearts! Yare, yare! Take in the topsail. Tend to th'master's whistle.- Blow, till thou burst thy wind, if room enough.Enter Alonso, Sebastian, Antonio, Ferdinand, Gonzalo and othersALONSO Good boatswain, have care. Where's the master? Play the men.BOATSWAIN I pray now, keep below.ANTONIO Where is the master, boatswain?BOATSWAIN Do you not hear him? You mar our labour. Keep your cabins! You do assist the storm.GONZALO Nay, good, be patient.BOATSWAIN When the sea is. Hence! What cares these roarers for the name of king? To cabin! Silence! Trouble us not.GONZALO Good, yet remember whom thou hast aboard.BOATSWAIN None that I more love than myself. You are a counsellor: if you can command these elements to silence, and work the peace of the present, we will not hand a rope more: use your authority. If you cannot, give thanks you have lived so long, and make yourself ready in your cabin for the mischance of the hour, if it so hap.- Cheerly, good hearts!- Out of our way, I say.Exeunt [Boatswain with Mariners, followed by Alonso, Sebastian, Antonio and Ferdinand]GONZALO 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 is miserable. ExitEnter BoatswainBOATSWAIN 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.Enter Sebastian, Antonio and GonzaloYet again? What do you here? Shall we give o'er and drown? Have you a mind to sink?SEBASTIAN A pox o'your throat, you bawling, blasphemous, incharitable dog!BOATSWAIN Work you then.ANTONIO Hang, cur! Hang, you whoreson, insolent noisemaker! We are less afraid to be drowned than thou art.GONZALO I'll warrant him for drowning, though the ship were no stronger than a nutshell and as leaky as an unstanched wench.BOATSWAIN Lay her ahold, ahold! Set her two courses off to sea again! Lay her off!Enter Mariners, wetMARINERS All lost! To prayers, to prayers! All lost!BOATSWAIN What, must our mouths be cold?GONZALO The king and prince at prayers: let's assist them, for our case is as theirs.SEBASTIAN I'm out of patience.ANTONIO We are merely cheated of our lives by drunkards. This wide-chopped rascal: would thou mightst lie drowning, the washing of ten tides!GONZALO He'll be hanged yet,Though every drop of water swear against itAnd gape at wid'st to glut him. [Exeunt Boatswain and Mariners]A confused noise within[VOICES OFF-STAGE] Mercy on us! - We split, we split! - Farewell, my wife and children! - Farewell, brother! - We split, we split, we split!ANTONIO Let's all sink wi'th'king.SEBASTIAN Let's take leave of him. Exeunt [Antonio and Sebastian]GONZALO Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea for an acre of barren ground: long heath, brown furze, anything. The wills above be done! But I would fain die a dry death.ExitAct 1 Scene 2 running scene 2Enter Prospero and MirandaMIRANDA If by your art, my dearest father, you havePut the wild waters in this roar, allay them.The sky, it seems, would pour down stinking pitch,But that the sea, mounting to th'welkin's cheek,Dashes the fire out. O, I have sufferedWith those that I saw suffer: a brave vessel -Who had, no doubt, some noble creature in her -Dashed all to pieces. O, the cry did knockAgainst my very heart. Poor souls, they perished.Had I been any god of power, I wouldHave sunk the sea within the earth, or ereIt should the good ship so have swallowed, andThe fraughting souls within her.PROSPERO Be collected:No more amazement. Tell your piteous heartThere's no harm done.MIRANDA O, woe the day!PROSPERO No harm:I have done nothing but in care of thee -Of thee, my dear one, thee, my daughter - whoArt ignorant of what thou art: nought knowingOf whence I am, nor that I am more betterThan Prospero, master of a full poor cell,And thy no greater father.MIRANDA More to knowDid never meddle with my thoughts.PROSPERO 'Tis timeI should inform thee further. Lend thy handAnd pluck my magic garment from me. So:Lie there, my art. Wipe thou thine eyes, have his magic cloakcomfort.The direful spectacle of the wreck, which touchedThe very virtue of compassion in thee,I have with such provision in mine artSo safely ordered that there is no soul -No, not so much perdition as an hairBetid to any creature in the vesselWhich thou heard'st cry, which thou saw'st sink. Sitdown, [Miranda sits]For thou must now know further.MIRANDA You have oftenBegun to tell me what I am, but stoppedAnd left me to a bootless inquisition,Concluding 'Stay: not yet.'PROSPERO The hour's now come,The very minute bids thee ope thine ear:Obey, and be attentive. Canst thou rememberA time before we came unto this cell?I do not think thou canst, for then thou wast notOut three years old.MIRANDA Certainly, sir, I can.PROSPERO By what? By any other house or person?Of any thing the image, tell me, thatHath kept with thy remembrance.MIRANDA 'Tis far off,And rather like a dream than an assuranceThat my remembrance warrants. Had I notFour or five women once that tended me?PROSPERO Thou hadst; and more, Miranda. But how is itThat this lives in thy mind? What see'st thou elseIn the dark backward and abysm of time?If thou rememb'rest aught ere thou cam'st here,How thou cam'st here thou mayst.MIRANDA But that I do not.PROSPERO Twelve year since, Miranda, twelve year since,Thy father was the Duke of Milan andA prince of power.MIRANDA Sir, are not you my father?PROSPERO Thy mother was a piece of virtue, andShe said thou wast my daughter; and thy fatherWas Duke of Milan, and his only heirAnd princess, no worse issued.MIRANDA O the heavens!What foul play had we, that we came from thence?Or blessèd wast we did?PROSPERO Both, both, my girl.By foul play - as thou say'st - were we heavedthence,But blessedly holp hither.MIRANDA O, my heart bleedsTo think o'th'teen that I have turned you to,Which is from my remembrance. Please you, further.PROSPERO My brother and thy uncle, called Antonio -I pray thee, mark me - that a brother shouldBe so perfidious - he whom next thyselfOf all the world I loved, and to him putThe manage of my state, as at that timeThrough all the signories it was the first,And Prospero the prime duke, being so reputedIn dignity, and for the liberal artsWithout a parallel; those being all my study,The government I cast upon my brotherAnd to my state grew stranger, being transportedAnd rapt in secret studies. Thy false uncle -Dost thou attend me?MIRANDA Sir, most heedfully.PROSPERO Being once perfected how to grant suits,How to deny them, who t'advance and whoTo trash for over-topping, new createdThe creatures that were mine, I say, or changed 'em,Or else new formed 'em; having both the keyOf officer and office, set all hearts i'th'stateTo what tune pleased his ear, that now he wasThe ivy which had hid my princely trunkAnd sucked my verdure out on't.- Thou attend'stnot.MIRANDA O good sir, I do.PROSPERO I pray thee, mark me:I, thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicatedTo closeness and the bettering of my mindWith that, which but by being so retired,O'er-prized all popular rate, in my false brotherAwaked an evil nature, and my trust,Like a good parent, did beget of himA falsehood in its contrary, as greatAs 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 oneWho having into truth, by telling of it,Made such a sinner of his memoryTo credit his own lie, he did believeHe was indeed the duke, out o'th'substitutionAnd executing th'outward face of royaltyWith all prerogative: hence his ambition growing -Dost thou hear?MIRANDA Your tale, sir, would cure deafness.PROSPERO To have no screen between this part he played,And him he played it for, he needs will beAbsolute Milan. Me - poor man - my libraryWas dukedom large enough: of temporal royaltiesHe thinks me now incapable. Confederates -So dry he was for sway - wi'th'King of NaplesTo give him annual tribute, do him homage,Subject his coronet to his crown, and bendThe dukedom yet unbowed - alas, poor Milan -To most ignoble stooping.MIRANDA O the heavens!PROSPERO Mark his condition and th'event, then tell meIf this might be a brother.MIRANDA I should sinTo think but nobly of my grandmother:Good wombs have borne bad sons.PROSPERO Now the condition.This King of Naples, being an enemyTo me inveterate, hearkens my brother's suit,Which was, that he, in lieu o'th'premisesOf homage, and I know not how much tribute,Should presently extirpate me and mineOut of the dukedom, and confer fair Milan,With all the honours, on my brother: whereon,A treacherous army levied, one midnightFated to th'purpose, did Antonio openThe gates of Milan, and i'th'dead of darknessThe ministers for th'purpose hurried thenceMe and thy crying self.MIRANDA Alack, for pity!I, not rememb'ring how I cried out then,Will cry it o'er again: it is a hintThat wrings mine eyes to't.PROSPERO Hear a little further,And then I'll bring thee to the present businessWhich now's upon's: without the which, this storyWere most impertinent.MIRANDA Wherefore did they notThat hour destroy us?PROSPERO Well demanded, wench:My tale provokes that question. Dear, they durst not,So dear the love my people bore me: nor setA mark so bloody on the business: butWith colours fairer, painted their foul ends.In few, they hurried us aboard a barque,Bore us some leagues to sea, where they preparedA rotten carcass of a butt, not rigged,Nor tackle, sail, nor mast: the very ratsInstinctively have quit it. There they hoist us,To cry to th'sea that roared to us; to sighTo th'winds, whose pity sighing back again,Did us but loving wrong.MIRANDA Alack, what troubleWas I then to you!PROSPERO O, a cherubinThou wast that did preserve me. Thou didst smile,Infusèd with a fortitude from heaven,When I have decked the sea with drops full salt,Under my burden groaned, which raised in meAn undergoing stomach, to bear upAgainst what should ensue.MIRANDA How came we ashore?PROSPERO By providence divine.Some food we had, and some fresh water, thatA noble Neapolitan, Gonzalo,Out of his charity - who being then appointedMaster of this design - did give us, withRich garments, linens, stuffs and necessaries,Which since have steaded much. So, ofhis gentleness,Knowing I loved my books, he furnished meFrom mine own library with volumes thatI prize above my dukedom.MIRANDA Would I mightBut ever see that man.PROSPERO Now I arise: Prospero standsSit still, and hear the last of our sea-sorrow.Here in this island we arrived, and hereHave I, thy schoolmaster, made thee more profitThan other princes can that have more timeFor vainer hours, and tutors not so careful.MIRANDA Heavens thank you for't. And now, I pray you,sir,For still 'tis beating in my mind: your reasonFor raising this sea-storm?PROSPERO Know thus far forth:By accident most strange, bountiful Fortune -Now my dear lady - hath mine enemiesBrought to this shore: and by my prescienceI find my zenith doth depend uponA most auspicious star, whose influenceIf now I court not, but omit, my fortunesWill ever after droop. Here cease more questions:Thou art inclined to sleep. 'Tis a good dullness,And give it way: I know thou canst not choose.- MirandaCome away, servant, come. I am ready now. sleepsApproach, my Ariel, come.Enter ArielARIEL All hail, great master! Grave sir, hail! I comeTo answer thy best pleasure; be't to fly,To swim, to dive into the fire, to rideOn the curled clouds: to thy strong bidding taskAriel and all his quality.PROSPERO Hast thou, spirit,Performed to point the tempest that I bade thee?ARIEL 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'd divideAnd burn in many places; on the topmast,The yards and bowsprit would I flame distinctly,Then meet and join. Jove's lightning, the precursorsO'th'dreadful thunderclaps, more momentaryAnd sight-outrunning were not; the fire and cracksOf sulphurous roaring, the most mighty NeptuneSeem to besiege and make his bold waves tremble,Yea, his dread trident shake.PROSPERO My brave spirit!Who was so firm, so constant, that this coilWould not infect his reason?ARIEL Not a soulBut felt a fever of the mad and playedSome tricks of desperation. All but marinersPlunged in the foaming brine and quit the vessel,Then all afire with me: the king's son, Ferdinand,With hair up-staring - then like reeds, not hair -Was the first man that leaped; cried 'Hell is emptyAnd all the devils are here.'PROSPERO Why, that's my spirit!But was not this nigh shore?ARIEL Close by, my master.PROSPERO But are they, Ariel, safe?ARIEL Not a hair perished:On their sustaining garments not a blemish,But fresher than before: and, as thou bad'st 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 sighsIn an odd angle of the isle, and sitting,His arms in this sad knot. [Folds his arms]