This speech, delivered by Caliban to Prospero and Miranda, makes clear in a very concise form the vexed relationship between the colonized and the colonizer that lies at the heart of this play. The son of a witch, perhaps half-man and half-monster, his name a near-anagram of “cannibal,” Caliban is an archetypal “savage” figure in a play that is much concerned with colonization and the controlling of wild environments. Caliban and Prospero have different narratives to explain their current relationship. Caliban sees Prospero as purely oppressive while Prospero claims that he has cared for and educated Caliban, or did until Caliban tried to rape Miranda. Prospero’s narrative is one in which Caliban remains ungrateful for the help and civilization he has received from the Milanese Duke. Language, for Prospero and Miranda, is a means to knowing oneself, and Caliban has in their view shown nothing but scorn for this precious gift. Self-knowledge for Caliban, however, is not empowering. It is only a constant reminder of how he is different from Miranda and Prospero and how they have changed him from what he was. Caliban’s only hope for an identity separate from those who have invaded his home is to use what they have given him against them.
2. "There be some sports are painful, and their labour Delight in them sets off. Some kinds of baseness Are nobly undergone, and most poor matters Point to rich ends. This my mean task Would be as heavy to me as odious, but The mistress which I serve quickens what’s dead And makes my labours pleasures." - FERDINAND (Act 3 Scene 1) (Page 79)
Ferdinand speaks these words to Miranda, as he expresses his willingness to perform the task Prospero has set him to, for her sake. The Tempest is very much about compromise and balance. Prospero must spend twelve years on an island in order to regain his dukedom; Alonso must seem to lose his son in order to be forgiven for his treachery; Ariel must serve Prospero in order to be set free; and Ferdinand must suffer Prospero’s feigned wrath in order to reap true joy from his love for Miranda. This latter compromise is the subject of this passage from Act III, scene i, and we see the desire for balance expressed in the structure of Ferdinand’s speech. This desire is built upon a series of antitheses—related but opposing ideas: “sports . . . painful” is followed by “labour . . . delights”; “baseness” can be undergone “nobly”; “poor matters” lead to “rich ends”; Miranda “quickens” (makes alive) what is “dead” in Ferdinand. Perhaps more than any other character in the play, Ferdinand is resigned to allow fate to take its course, always believing that the good will balance the bad in the end. His waiting for Miranda mirrors Prospero’s waiting for reconciliation with his enemies, and it is probably Ferdinand’s balanced outlook that makes him such a sympathetic character, even though we actually see or hear very little of him on-stage.
3. "At mine unworthiness, that dare not offer What I desire to give, and much less take What I shall die to want. But this is trifling, And all the more it seeks to hide itself The bigger bulk it shows. Hence, bashful cunning, And prompt me, plain and holy innocence. I am your wife, if you will marry me. If not, I’ll die your maid. To be your fellow You may deny me, but I’ll be your servant Whether you will or no" - MIRANDA (Act 3 Scene 2) (Page 85)
Miranda delivers this speech to Ferdinand in Act III, scene i, declaring her undying love for him. Remarkably, she does not merely propose marriage, she practically insists upon it. This is one of two times in the play that Miranda seems to break out of the predictable character she has developed under the influence of her father’s magic. The first time is in Act I, scene ii, when she scolds Caliban for his ingratitude to her after all the time she has spent teaching him to speak. In the speech quoted above, as in Act I, scene ii, Miranda seems to come to a point at which she can no longer hold inside what she thinks. It is not that her desires get the better of her; rather, she realizes the necessity of expressing her desires. The naïve girl who can barely hold still long enough to hear her father’s long story in Act I, scene ii, and who is charmed asleep and awake as though she were a puppet, is replaced by a stronger, more mature individual at this moment. This speech, in which Miranda declares her sexual independence, using a metaphor that suggests both an erection and pregnancy (the “bigger bulk” trying to hide itself), seems to transform Miranda all at once from a girl into a woman. At the same time, the last three lines somewhat undercut the power of this speech: Miranda seems, to a certain extent, a slave to her desires. Her pledge to follow Ferdinand, no matter what the cost to herself or what he desires, is echoed in the most degrading way possible by Caliban as he abases himself before the liquor-bearing Stephano. Ultimately, we know that Ferdinand and Miranda are right for one another from the fact that Ferdinand does not abuse the enormous trust Miranda puts in him.
4. "Be not afeard. The isle is full of noises, Sounds, and sweet airs, that give delight and hurt not. Sometimes a thousand twangling instruments Will hum about mine ears, and sometime voices That, if I then had waked after long sleep Will make me sleep again; and then in dreaming The clouds methought would open and show riches Ready to drop upon me, that when I waked I cried to dream again" - CALIBAN (Act 3 Scene 2) (Page 93).
This speech is Caliban’s explanation to Stephano and Trinculo of mysterious music that they hear by magic. Though he claims that the chief virtue of his newly learned language is that it allows him to curse, Caliban here shows himself capable of using speech in a most sensitive and beautiful fashion. This speech is generally considered to be one of the most poetic in the play, and it is remarkable that Shakespeare chose to put it in the mouth of the drunken man-monster. Just when Caliban seems to have debased himself completely and to have become a purely ridiculous figure, Shakespeare gives him this speech and reminds the audience that Caliban has something within himself that Prospero, Stephano, Trinculo, and the audience itself generally cannot, or refuse to, see. It is unclear whether the “noises” Caliban discusses are the noises of the island itself or noises, like the music of the invisible Ariel, that are a result of Prospero’s magic. Caliban himself does not seem to know where these noises come from. Thus his speech conveys the wondrous beauty of the island and the depth of his attachment to it, as well as a certain amount of respect and love for Prospero’s magic, and for the possibility that he creates the “[s]ounds and sweet airs that give delight and hurt not.”
5. "Our revels now are ended. These our actors, As I foretold you, were all spirits, and Are melted into air, into thin air; And, like the baseless fabric of this vision, The cloud-capped towers, the gorgeous palaces, The solemn temples, the great globe itself, Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve; And, like this insubstantial pageant faded, Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff As dreams are made on, and our little life Is rounded with a sleep." - PROSPERO (Act 4 Scene 1) (Page 115)
Prospero speaks these lines just after he remembers the plot against his life and sends the wedding masque away in order to deal with that plot. The sadness in the tone of the speech seems to be related to Prospero’s surprising forgetfulness at this crucial moment in the play: he is so swept up in his own visions, in the power of his own magic, that for a moment he forgets the business of real life. From this point on, Prospero talks repeatedly of the “end” of his “labours” (IV.i.260), and of breaking his staff and drowning his magic book (V.i.54–57). One of Prospero’s goals in bringing his former enemies to the island seems to be to extricate himself from a position of near absolute power, where the concerns of real life have not affected him. He looks forward to returning to Milan, where “every third thought shall be my grave” (V.i.315). In addition, it is with a sense of relief that he announces in the epilogue that he has given up his magic powers. Prospero’s speech in Act IV, scene i emphasizes both the beauty of the world he has created for himself and the sadness of the fact that this world is in many ways meaningless because it is a kind of dream completely removed from anything substantial. His mention of the “great globe,” which to an audience in 1611 would certainly suggest the Globe Theatre, calls attention to Prospero’s theatricality—to the way in which he controls events like a director or a playwright. The word “rack,” which literally means “a wisp of smoke” is probably a pun on the “wrack,” or shipwreck, with which the play began. These puns conflate the theatre and Prospero’s island. When Prospero gives up his magic, the play will end, and the audience, like Prospero, will return to real life. No trace of the magical island will be left behind, not even of the shipwreck, for even the shipwreck was only an illusion.
“As wicked dew as e'er my mother brushed
With raven's feather from unwholesome fen
Drop on you both! A southwest blow on ye
And blister you all o'er!" - CALIBAN (Act 1 Scene 2) (Page 29)
In these lines Caliban is cursing Prospero and Miranda. Once having been a sort of pet to Prospero who taught him how to speak English, Caliban at this point is a slave to Prospero who tortures him with magic beings that come in the night. The reason for Caliban’s change in status is his sexual attraction toward Miranda, which Prospero finds unforgiveable.
“Were I in England now, as I once was, and had but this fish painted, not a holiday-fool there but would give a piece of silver. There would this monster make a man--any strange beast there makes a man. When they will not give a doit to relieve a lame beggar, they will lay out ten to see a dead Indian.” - TRINCULO (Act 2 Scene 2) (Page 67)
In these lines Trinculo describes Caliban. Shakespeare lived during the beginning of the great Age of Discovery, the exploration of the Americas, hence the reference to a dead Indian. The phrase “make a man” means make a man rich. Shakespeare here describes the crassness of human behavior, excited by voyeurism of a dead human being, but unwilling to help the poor.
Wonder!
How many goodly creatures are there here!
How beauteous mankind is! O brave new world,
That has such people in't!”
These are very famous lines from Shakespeare. Aldous Huxley echoed them in 1931 when he wrote his classic Brave New World. Miranda, having grown up in isolation on the island, had never seen a human being except for her father. Upon seeing the men, especially Ferdinand with whom she falls in love, she is amazed and astounded.
“And that most deeply to consider is
The beauty of his daughter. He himself
Calls her nonpareil. I never saw a woman
But only Sycorax, my dam, and she
But she as far surpasseth Sycorax
As great'st does least.” - CALIBAN (Act 3 Scene 2) (Page 91)
Caliban, like Miranda, had also not seen humans except Prospero and Miranda. Sycorax, Caliban’s mother, when living, had been an evil witch who imprisoned the spirit Ariel in a tree. Here Caliban compares her to the only human female he has ever seen, and his mother comes up short. It’s worth noting that both Caliban and Ariel are Prospero’s slaves, another possible reference to the New World.
“A devil, a born devil, on whose nature
Nurture can never stick; on whom my pains,
Humanely taken, all, all lost, quite lost
And as with age his body uglier grows,
So his mind cankers. I will plague them all,
Even to roaring.” - PROSPERO (Act 4 Scene 1) (Page 117)
Here Prospero describes Caliban when he learns of the plot on his life. When reading or watching the play, the audience or director must decide about whether Caliban is a villain or just trying to take back an island that is rightfully his. Even in Shakespeare’s romances, characters are complex and plots are worthy of close attention. They can be understood in many ways.
“This island's mine, by Sycorax my mother,
Which thou tak'st from me. When thou cam'st first,
Thou strok'st me and made 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 lov'd thee,
And show'd thee all the qualities o' the isle,
The fresh springs, brine-pits, barren place and fertile.” - CALIBAN (Act 1 Scene 2) (Page 29)
Here Caliban is speaking to Prospero describing their relationship before the Miranda incident. Caliban seems to have welcomed Prospero and Miranda, and Prospero seems to have treated Caliban like a son. Note the tenderness in the poetry that Shakespeare has written for Caliban, a lovely memory. The irony is in the lines that follow. Caliban curses Prospero, regretting having welcomed him to his island.
“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:
Ding-dong.
Hark! now I hear them—Ding-dong, bell.”
This song by Ariel is designed to lead Ferdinand to Prospero. It is of particular significance to Ferdinand because his father had just drowned in the shipwreck. Prospero uses Ariel to bring about his machinations of reuniting with his kin. “Fathom” here is a measure of depth. Shakespeare coins the phrase “sea-change” in these lines of poetry.
“But this rough magic
I here abjure; and, when I have requir'd
Some heavenly music — which even now I do, —
To work mine end upon their senses that
This airy charm is for, I'll break my staff,
Bury it certain fathoms in the earth,
And, deeper than did ever plummet sound,
I'll drown my book.” - PROSPERO (Act 5 Scene 1) (Page 127)
In these lines that come near the end of the play, Prospero denounces the magic he had spent his whole life studying and using. The magic in the play is ambivalent. His study of books and magic are what had caused him to lose his kingdom to his brother. He also uses his magic to subjugate Ariel, Caliban, and the island he inhabits. However, he also uses it to cement the match between his daughter and Ferdinand as well as reuniting his family and regaining his power and opportunity to return home. Traditionally, critics have considered this speech Shakespeare’s “farewell to the stage,” but this idea is less in vogue now because it has been discovered that he wrote several plays after this one. “Magic” here is thought to be a metaphor for the theatre.
