Journeys Through Bookland Volume Viii Part 55

The story seems to have been original with Shakespeare; at least no satisfactory evidence has been given to show that he borrowed it. This is rather unusual, for Shakespeare showed a fine contempt for originality, and borrowed the plots of his plays from a great variety of sources. His own version of each story, however, was so masterly that no one regrets that he availed himself of all the a.s.sistance he could get.

The scene of the play is laid on an island; what island we do not know.

Probably it is as mythical as the events that happened on it.

_The Tempest_ is one of Shakespeare's most perfect plays. In form it is perfect, and follows, more closely than was customary with him, the strict laws of the old Greek dramas, the laws which critics still uphold as those governing the highest art. The three unities are here observed: The events all occur in a single day; they happen in a single place; from beginning to end there is one continuous line of thought. Only the last characteristic is still generally observed by dramatic writers.

Beside perfection in form, _The Tempest_ shows the greatest nicety in the way the natural and supernatural move along together without a single interference. It is difficult to think of the magic art of Prospero as more marvelous than the coa.r.s.e plotting of Sebastian, or to consider the delicate Ariel and the mis-shapen Caliban less human than the manly Ferdinand, or the honest old Gonzalo. Only a great writer could accomplish this, and none but a genius could make of his work a piece so fine that we delight in every line of it. It would be unfair too not to mention the beautiful expressions that abound in it, the high sentiments that prevail, and the great renunciation that Prospero makes when he has in his hands every means for swift and terrible revenge.

CHARACTERS. In reading the drama we become acquainted with the characters, and begin to be indifferent toward some, to have admiration for others and contempt for others. In real life we must not be governed by our first impressions of people. We must study their appearance, their speech, their actions, and make up our minds as to their characters before we decide to make them our friends. It is very unwise to trust every agreeable person we meet, and especially unwise to be suspicious of every person who at first impresses us unfavorably. The older we grow, the keener becomes our power to read character, and the less liable we are to be deceived if we try always to use our best judgment. One of the great benefits literature can offer us is the opportunity to study character, and Shakespeare had such a remarkable insight into human nature, and so great a power of drawing character that in his plays we can see before us almost every type of human being, and from a study of them we can gain a knowledge of humanity that will help us every day of our lives.

Accordingly, let us take up, one after another, the princ.i.p.al characters in _The Tempest_ and study them in such a way that we shall be able to read other plays with greater ease and quickened intelligence.

1. _Prospero._ The hero of the drama is a man well advanced in years, grave, dignified and serene. As Duke of Milan he was a prince of power, "without a parallel in dignity and knowledge." He was popular with his subjects, for so dear was the love his people bore him, that the conspirators did not dare to destroy him. Yet he was not inclined to rule his dukedom, for he grew a stranger to his estate, so transported and wrapt was he in secret studies. He confesses that his library was dukedom enough for him, and that he had volumes that he prized above his dukedom. This was his weakness, and upon this his false brother preyed, until one night in the dead of darkness the Duke and the crying Miranda were set adrift in the rotten carca.s.s of a boat, which the very rats instinctively had quit.

On the island, with the books Gonzalo had preserved for him, he continued his studies and played the schoolmaster to his gentle child until she was better educated and more highly cultured than other princesses that spend more time in vain enjoyments and have less careful tutors. Prospero's love for his daughter is the strong, central trait in his character. He has raised her judiciously, guarded her zealously, and now when he finds, brought to his very door, all the actors in the tragedy of his life, his one great care is to provide for Miranda's happiness. All his plans lead to that end, and when he has achieved it, the labors of his life are over.

The supernatural powers that Prospero has acquired seem natural to the studious, dignified old gentleman, and amazing as they are, we can discredit none of them. He tells us he caused the storm, and Miranda begs him to save the pa.s.sengers on the doomed s.h.i.+p with perfect confidence in his ability to do it. He causes sleep to fall on Miranda, and he summons the gentle Ariel, who enters as naturally as a human being, and admits the marvelous acts that he has seen Prospero perform.

Caliban testifies to the power of Prospero so convincingly that we know the magician has control of the destinies of every human being on the island, and can wreak a terrible vengeance if he is determined to do it.

When Ferdinand draws his sword, the magician by a word makes him powerless as he stands. We see the magic banquet appear and disappear, and Iris, Ceres, Juno, the nymphs and the reapers come and converse, as a proof positive of his more than mortal power. How has he used this power and how will he continue to use it? When first he came upon the island it was full of evil, and the powers of darkness ruled. He has imprisoned and punished the evil spirits; freed the gentle and the good, banished all discord, and filled the island "full of noises, sounds and sweet airs that give delight and hurt not." That in the future he will use his vast power only for good, we feel a.s.sured. Only Caliban hates and abuses him, but the testimony of one so wicked rather proves the gentleness, wisdom and justice of the magician.

Prospero's pa.s.sionate love for his daughter makes him cunning and wise.

Before he will trust his daughter to Ferdinand, he tests both the character and the love of the latter most severely. He even feigns anger and appears to be cruel and unjust. That he is feigning, neither suspect, but Miranda says: "Never till this day saw I him touch'd with anger so distemper'd," and "My father's a better nature, sir, than he appears by speech." When he is a.s.sured of Ferdinand's worthiness, of the sincerity of his love for Miranda and of her devotion to her young lover, he is delighted, and becomes so interested in the entertainment he is giving them, that he forgets the plot against his life, although the hour of his danger has arrived. It is true the father stoops to listening, but his purpose is so worthy, no one is inclined to cavil at his watchfulness, and, in any event, his exceeding care but justifies the feeling that his love for Miranda is the mainspring of his every act.

On this small island Prospero is little less than a G.o.d, and controls affairs with almost supernatural justice and wisdom. Caliban, the ungrateful, terribly wicked monster, is punished unsparingly but with justice, for in the end with repentance he is forgiven, and the tortures cease. Ariel and the other obedient spirits, though reproved at times, are rewarded by freedom and placed beyond the reach of the evil powers of earth and air.

The sufferings Prospero has endured, the intensity of his studies, and the fierceness of his struggles with the supernatural powers of evil, have given a tinge of sadness to his thought, and have led him to feel that the result of all his labors may amount to little. The world is to him but an insubstantial pageant that shall dissolve and fade, leaving not the trace of the thinnest cloud behind. And as for ourselves,

"We are such stuff As dreams are made on, and our little life Is rounded with a sleep."

Yet no sooner does he give way to this feeling than he sees how unkind it is to trouble the young with such musings, and says pathetically to Ferdinand,

"Sir, I am vex'd; Bear with my weakness; my old brain is troubled: Be not disturbed with my infirmity."

It is, however, at the end of the play, when all his plans have been carried out successfully, and enemies and friends are alike at his mercy, that the character of Prospero s.h.i.+nes out most gloriously.

Rejoicing at the fruition of his hopes, he asks from his enemies only a sincere repentance, and then n.o.bly resigning the great arts which have rendered the plotters powerless, he forgives them one and all: his brother Antonio; the scheming Sebastian; Caliban, the evil spirit; and the two weak but wicked ones, Stephano and Trinculo. Then with generosity unparalleled he restores Ferdinand to his father, the King, who has joined with Antonio, and promises to all "calm seas, auspicious gales and sail so expeditious that shall catch your royal fleet far off." Remembering to set Ariel free, he lays aside his magic gown, breaks his staff, buries it fathoms deep in the earth, and drowns his magic book deeper than did ever plummet sound. Thus he leaves us, only a man once more, but a loving father, a wise and gentle ruler.

2. _Miranda._ We have seen that the master feeling in Prospero's soul is his love for his daughter. Is she worthy of so great an affection? Let us draw our answers from the drama.

(a) She is beautiful.

Ferdinand says:

"Most sure, the G.o.ddess On whom these airs attend!"

And:

"O you wonder!

If you be maid or no?"

Caliban says:

"And that most deeply to consider is The beauty of his daughter; he himself Calls her a nonpareil: I ne'er saw woman But only Sycorax my dam and she; But she as far surpa.s.seth Sycorax As great'st does least."

Alonzo says:

"Is she the G.o.ddess that hath sever'd us, And brought us thus together?"

(b) She is educated, cultured and refined.

Prospero says:

"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."

(c) She is tender-hearted, sympathetic and compa.s.sionate.

She says:

"O, I have suffer'd With those that I saw suffer!"

And:

"O, the cry did knock Against my very heart!"

Prospero speaks of these traits:

"Wipe thou thine eyes; have comfort.

The direful spectacle of the wreck, which touch'd The very virtue of compa.s.sion in thee,----"

Speaking of the trials which Prospero puts upon Ferdinand, she says:

"Make not too rash a trial of him, for He's gentle and not fearful."

When she learns of her helplessness at the time they were set adrift, she says:

"O, my heart bleeds To think o' the teen that I have turn'd you to."

When Miranda hears how her father was treated by her false uncle, she exclaims:

"Alack, for pity!

I, not remembering how I cried on't then, Will cry it o'er again: it is a hint That wrings mine eyes to't."

(d) She is brave.

Prospero says of her childhood:

"O, a cherubim Thou wast that did preserve me! Thou didst smile, Infused with a fort.i.tude from Heaven."

(e) She is innocent and unacquainted with mankind and hates the sight of evil.