The Tempest Act Two –“Misery acquaints a man with strange bedfellows.”

The Tempest Act Two –“Misery acquaints a man with strange bedfellows.”

“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.”

And so Act Two of ‘The Tempest’ begins with the ever-positive Gonzalo trying to cheer Antonio, Sebastian, Alonso, Adrian, Francisco and others up after their ordeal of the tempest and their ‘shipwreck’ on the island. Alonso is specifically unreceptive to Gonzalo’s positivity. Then Antonio and Sebastian mock Gonzalo’s feeling that this island is a godsend. The lighthearted banter ends when Alonso voices expresses regret at the marriage of his daughter in Tunis which led to this situation:

“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?”

Then another lord, Francisco, tries to give hope to Alonso when he tells of how he saw Alonso’s son, Ferdinand, swimming from the wreck:

“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.”

Alonso does not think his son is alive and then Sebastian (with a strange combination of heartlessness and racism) tells his brother Alonso that the blame for Ferdinand’s death does sit with him since this would not have happened if had not married his daughter to an African.

“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.”

Gonzalo tries to diffuse these discussions by asking the question of what would each person do if he were lord of this island. Sebastian says he would “ 'Scape being drunk for want of wine.” Gonzalo then espouses his utopian view:

“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…

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.”

Antonio and Sebastian mock Gonzalo’s idealism.

Then Ariel enters and plays music that sends all of the men (except for Sebastian and Antonio) to sleep. Antonio (who years before had usurped Propsero’s position) looks at the others asleep and starts to try to convince Sebastian that he should kill his brother and usurp his title:

“What a strange drowsiness possesses them!

… 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…

Noble Sebastian,

Thou let'st thy fortune sleep--die, rather; wink'st

Whiles thou art waking…

I am more serious than my custom: you

Must be so too, if heed me; which to do

Trebles thee o'er…

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…

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…

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…

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?

… And how does your content

Tender your own good fortune?

… 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…”

Sebastian sees the logic of Antonio’s argument and they draw their swords. However, Sebastian hesitates and Ariel renenters and singing in Gonzalo’s ear that trouble is afoot and Gonzalo awakens shouting “Preserve the King!” Everyone else wakes up. Sebastian claims that Antonio and him drew their swords because they heard a “burst of bellowing like bulls”. Their story, over-alliterated as it is, seems to work but Gonzalo is still suspicious. Then everyone gets up and continues to search Ferdinand.

Meanwhile, we come across Caliban carrying wood for prospero and cursing the spirits that Prospero sends to torment him:

“All the infections that the sun sucks up

From bogs, fens, flats, on Prosper fall and make him

By inch-meal a disease! His spirits hear me

And yet I needs must curse. But they'll nor pinch,

Fright me with urchin--shows, pitch me i' the mire,

Nor lead me, like a firebrand, in the dark

Out of my way, unless he bid 'em; but

For every trifle are they set upon me;

Sometime like apes that mow and chatter at me

And after bite me, then like hedgehogs which

Lie tumbling in my barefoot way and mount

Their pricks at my footfall; sometime am I

All wound with adders who with cloven tongues

Do hiss me into madness.”

Caliban sees Trinculo (a jester who became shipwrecked but separated from the others) and thinks that Trinculo is another spirit who Prospero has sent to pinch and torment him. Caliban lies on the ground covering himself in a cloak. Trinculo looking for some cover from the storm discovers Caliban, muses at this ‘creature’ and decides to take cover under the same cloak with this creature:

“Here's neither bush nor shrub, to bear off

any weather at all, and another storm brewing;

I hear it sing i' the wind: yond same black

cloud, yond huge one, looks like a foul

bombard that would shed his liquor. If it

should thunder as it did before, I know not

where to hide my head: yond same cloud cannot

choose but fall by pailfuls. What have we

here? a man or a fish? dead or alive? A fish:

he smells like a fish; a very ancient and fish-

like smell; a kind of not of the newest Poor-

John. A strange fish! Were I in England now,

as once I 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 lazy out ten to see a dead

Indian. Legged like a man and his fins like

arms! Warm o' my troth! I do now let loose

my opinion; hold it no longer: this is no fish,

but an islander, that hath lately suffered by a

thunderbolt. (Thunder)

Alas, the storm is come again! my best way is to

creep under his gaberdine; there is no other

shelter hereabouts: misery acquaints a man with

strange bed-fellows. I will here shroud till the

dregs of the storm be past.”

Then Stephano (a drunken butler) enters singing and drinking with a bottle in hand. He hears the cry of “Do not torment me!” and sees four legs sticking out from the cloak and thinks that he is looking at a four-legged monster. When the monster cries again, Stephano decides he will give the monster some relief with a drink of alcohol.

“This is some monster of the isle with four legs, who

hath got, as I take it, an ague. Where the devil

should he learn our language? I will give him some

relief, if it be but for that. if I can recover him

and keep him tame and get to Naples with him, he's a

present for any emperor that ever trod on neat's leather…

He's in his fit now and does not talk after the

wisest. He shall taste of my bottle: if he have

never drunk wine afore will go near to remove his

fit. If I can recover him and keep him tame, I will

not take too much for him; he shall pay for him that

hath him, and that soundly.”

Trinculo, under the cloak with Caliban identifies the voice he hears as Stephano and speaks but Stephano thinks that this four-legged monster has two heads and two mouths and proceeds to pour alcohol into both of the monster’s mouths.

“Four legs and two voices: a most delicate monster!

His forward voice now is to speak well of his

friend; his backward voice is to utter foul speeches

and to detract. If all the wine in my bottle will

recover him, I will help his ague. Come. Amen! I

will pour some in thy other mouth.”

Trinculo cries out again and Stephano pulls out Trinculo from under the cloak. They are happy to see one another and tell of how they survived. Caliban emerges and tells of how he thinks the alcohol is wonderful and he starts to worship Stephano like a God and he says that he will show them all the riches of the island.

“I'll swear upon that bottle to be thy true subject;

for the liquor is not earthly…

Hast thou not dropp'd from heaven?

… I'll show thee every fertile inch o' th' island;

And I will kiss thy foot: I prithee, be my god…

I'll kiss thy foot; I'll swear myself thy subject…

I'll show thee the best springs; I'll pluck thee berries;

I'll fish for thee and get thee wood enough.

A plague upon the tyrant that I serve!

I'll bear him no more sticks, but follow thee,

Thou wondrous man…

I prithee, let me bring thee where crabs grow;

And I with my long nails will dig thee pignuts;

Show thee a jay's nest and instruct thee how

To snare the nimble marmoset; I'll bring thee

To clustering filberts and sometimes I'll get thee

Young scamels from the rock. Wilt thou go with me?”

Trinculo and Stephano decide that they will take advantage of their fortuitous control over this drunk and “most ridiculous monster”.