feat_summary_path: finished_summaries/gradesaver/The Tempest/section_2_part_3.txt
feat_book_id: The Tempest.act 3.scene 3
feat_summary_id: act 3, scene 3
feat_summary: {"name": "act 3, Scene 3", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20210309152602/https://www.gradesaver.com/the-tempest/study-guide/summary-act-iii", "summary": "Alonso, Adrian, Francisco, Sebastian, Antonio, and Gonzalo are still wandering about the island, and Alonzo has finally given up any hope of his son Ferdinand being alive. Antonio and Sebastian decide to make their murderous move later that night, but their conspiracy is interrupted by Prospero sending in a huge banquet via his spirits, with he himself there, but invisible. They are all amazed, but not too taken aback that they will not eat the food; but, as they are about to eat, a vengeful Ariel enters, taking credit for their shipwreck, and makes the banquet vanish. Alonso recognizes Ariel's words as being of Prospero's pen, and the great guilt of Alonso, Antonio, and Sebastian begins to take them over, at the thought of Prospero being alive, and so nearby.", "analysis": "Ferdinand is stripped of the privileges of his rank by Prospero, who did the same to Caliban by making him a slave as well. Prospero's action in this case might not be fair, but Ferdinand bears it, and in so doing, legitimates Prospero's rule, just as Caliban did; this case again stresses the theme that willful obedience is a legitimate source of power. Prospero's tone, when speaking of Ferdinand in this act, is a curious mix of affection and distaste; he refers to Ferdinand as \"poor worm,\" which could be taken as a statement of endearment. However, the worm was often used as a symbol of corruption and lust, as mentioned in Act 2, scene 4 of Twelfth Night, and as it is represented in William Blake's poem \"The Rose\". In this case, the symbolic meaning foreshadows Prospero's suspicious warnings to the couple to wait until their wedding ceremony, and recalls his accusation of Ferdinand of treason and bad faith in the first act. In his speech in this act, Ferdinand employs paradox, overstatement, etc. in his many entreaties to Miranda. The mistress which I serve quickens what's dead, and makes my labours pleasures,\" Ferdinand says, using paradoxes that communicate how magical and wonderful his beloved is, to turn the unpleasant pleasant. A contrast between Miranda and her father shows her to be much more pleasant than her father, who's \"composed of harshness\": yet, he declares, with overstatement, that he will carry \"some thousands of these logs\" for his stern taskmaster, because of the great sweetness of Miranda. Ferdinand overstates his resolve, in order to impress upon Miranda how much he would do for her; he swears that he would rather \"crack sinews, break back\" than see her work, though his work could scarcely be hard enough to cause these injuries. They make all the vows of marriage to each other; Ferdinand swears to \"love, prize, and honour\" Miranda, and in turn Miranda pledges to give him her \"modesty,\" meaning her virginity. They give each other their hands, and Miranda declares him her \"husband\"; the show of love is nice, but they know almost nothing about each other, and given that they have been together for less than twenty-four hours, the sentiment is rather rash, and almost foolish. Ferdinand and Miranda speak with a poetic, romantic, unrealistic tone that is very similar to the tone used by Romeo and Juliet when they spoke to each other; the same devices, of overstatement, paradox, contrast, and comparison are used to make elegant compliments to each other, and high-flown declarations of love. Ferdinand slips into conventional, polished phrases when speaking to this woman whom he hardly knows, an example being when he tells her \"'tis fresh morning with me when you are by at night,\" though they have not been through a night together at all. Indeed, Ferdinand and Miranda's love is the same sort of instant physical attraction that Romeo and Juliet had, though Romeo and Juliet's love was not influenced by a mischievous sprite like Ariel. Although Ferdinand hardly knows Miranda, he brazenly declares her \"perfect and peerless,\" though she cannot be either of those. The mood and feel of these passages is very different from those appearing before it, and are guided by a blind sort of idealism, and a naive, young love. The language in these sections of the play also turns distinctly sexual, with maidenly Miranda showing her hidden, but mature knowledge of desire and sexual politics. Miranda explains the urgency of her love to Ferdinand by telling him \"all the more it seeks to hide itself, the bigger bulk it shows\"; note the image of a concealed pregnancy in her description, which coincides with the increase in their declared desire. Miranda \"dare not offer what desire to give\" to Ferdinand, betraying the lust behind her maidenly exterior; and she acknowledges the sexual exchange inherent in marriage, that the \"jewel in dower\" is the main treasure which she has to attract a husband. Miranda may seem young and isolated, but this scene shows that she is far more knowledgeable about worldly matters than one might expect, given her upbringing on this remote island"}
text: SCENE III.
  
  _Another part of the island._
  
    _Enter ALONSO, SEBASTIAN, ANTONIO, GONZALO, ADRIAN, FRANCISCO,
    and others._
  
  _Gon._ By'r lakin, I can go no further, sir;
  My old bones ache: here's a maze trod, indeed,
  Through forth-rights and meanders! By your patience,
  I needs must rest me.
  
  _Alon._             Old lord, I cannot blame thee,
  Who am myself attach'd with weariness,                               5
  To the dulling of my spirits: sit down, and rest.
  Even here I will put off my hope, and keep it
  No longer for my flatterer: he is drown'd
  Whom thus we stray to find; and the sea mocks
  Our frustrate search on land. Well, let him go.                     10
  
  _Ant._ [_Aside to Seb._] I am right glad that he's so out of hope.
  Do not, for one repulse, forego the purpose
  That you resolved to effect.
  
  _Seb._ [_Aside to Ant._] The next advantage
  Will we take throughly.
  
  _Ant._ [_Aside to Seb._] Let it be to-night;
  For, now they are oppress'd with travel, they                       15
  Will not, nor cannot, use such vigilance
  As when they are fresh.
  
  _Seb._ [_Aside to Ant._] I say, to-night: no more.
  
    [_Solemn and strange music._
  
  _Alon._ What harmony is this?--My good friends, hark!
  
  _Gon._ Marvellous sweet music!
  
    _Enter PROSPERO above, invisible. Enter several strange Shapes,
    bringing in a banquet: they dance about it with gentle actions of
    salutation; and, inviting the King, &c. to eat, they depart._
  
  _Alon._ Give us kind keepers, heavens!--What were these?            20
  
  _Seb._ A living drollery. Now I will believe
  That there are unicorns; that in Arabia
  There is one tree, the phoenix' throne; one phoenix
  At this hour reigning there.
  
  _Ant._                     I'll believe both;
  And what does else want credit, come to me,                         25
  And I'll be sworn 'tis true: travellers ne'er did lie,
  Though fools at home condemn 'em.
  
  _Gon._                          If in Naples
  I should report this now, would they believe me?
  If I should say, I saw such islanders,--
  For, certes, these are people of the island,--                      30
  Who, though they are of monstrous shape, yet, note,
  Their manners are more gentle-kind than of
  Our human generation you shall find
  Many, nay, almost any.
  
  _Pros._              [_Aside_] Honest lord,
  Thou hast said well; for some of you there present                  35
  Are worse than devils.
  
  _Alon._              I cannot too much muse
  Such shapes, such gesture, and such sound, expressing--
  Although they want the use of tongue--a kind
  Of excellent dumb discourse.
  
  _Pros._                    [_Aside_] Praise in departing.
  
  _Fran._ They vanish'd strangely.
  
  _Seb._                         No matter, since                     40
  They have left their viands behind; for we have stomachs.--
  Will't please you taste of what is here?
  
  _Alon._                                Not I.
  
  _Gon._ Faith, sir, you need not fear. When we were boys,
  Who would believe that there were mountaineers
  Dew-lapp'd like bulls, whose throats had hanging at 'em             45
  Wallets of flesh? or that there were such men
  Whose heads stood in their breasts? which now we find
  Each putter-out of five for one will bring us
  Good warrant of.
  
  _Alon._        I will stand to, and feed,
  Although my last: no matter, since I feel                           50
  The best is past. Brother, my lord the duke,
  Stand to, and do as we.
  
    _Thunder and lightning. Enter ARIEL, like a harpy; claps his
    wings upon the table; and, with a quaint device, the banquet
    vanishes._
  
  _Ari._ You are three men of sin, whom Destiny,--
  That hath to instrument this lower world
  And what is in't,--the never-surfeited sea                          55
  Hath caused to belch up you; and on this island,
  Where man doth not inhabit,--you 'mongst men
  Being most unfit to live. I have made you mad;
  And even with such-like valour men hang and drown
  Their proper selves.    [_Alon., Seb. &c. draw their swords._
                     You fools! I and my fellows                      60
  Are ministers of Fate: the elements,
  Of whom your swords are temper'd, may as well
  Wound the loud winds, or with bemock'd-at stabs
  Kill the still-closing waters, as diminish
  One dowle that's in my plume: my fellow-ministers                   65
  Are like invulnerable. If you could hurt,
  Your swords are now too massy for your strengths,
  And will not be uplifted. But remember,--
  For that's my business to you,--that you three
  From Milan did supplant good Prospero;                              70
  Exposed unto the sea, which hath requit it,
  Him and his innocent child: for which foul deed
  The powers, delaying, not forgetting, have
  Incensed the seas and shores, yea, all the creatures,
  Against your peace. Thee of thy son, Alonso,                        75
  They have bereft; and do pronounce by me:
  Lingering perdition--worse than any death
  Can be at once--shall step by step attend
  You and your ways; whose wraths to guard you from,--
  Which here, in this most desolate isle, else falls                  80
  Upon your heads,--is nothing but heart-sorrow
  And a clear life ensuing.
  
    _He vanishes in thunder; then, to soft music, enter the Shapes
    again, and dance, with mocks and mows, and carrying out the
    table._
  
  _Pros._ Bravely the figure of this harpy hast thou
  Perform'd, my Ariel; a grace it had, devouring:
  Of my instruction hast thou nothing bated                           85
  In what thou hadst to say: so, with good life
  And observation strange, my meaner ministers
  Their several kinds have done. My high charms work,
  And these mine enemies are all knit up
  In their distractions: they now are in my power;                    90
  And in these fits I leave them, while I visit
  Young Ferdinand,--whom they suppose is drown'd,--
  And his and mine loved darling.    [_Exit above._
  
  _Gon._ I' the name of something holy, sir, why stand you
  In this strange stare?
  
  _Alon._              O, it is monstrous, monstrous!                 95
  Methought the billows spoke, and told me of it;
  The winds did sing it to me; and the thunder,
  That deep and dreadful organ-pipe, pronounced
  The name of Prosper: it did bass my trespass.
  Therefore my son i' th' ooze is bedded; and                        100
  I'll seek him deeper than e'er plummet sounded,
  And with him there lie mudded.    [_Exit._
  
  _Seb._                       But one fiend at a time,
  I'll fight their legions o'er.
  
  _Ant._                       I'll be thy second.
  
      [_Exeunt Seb. and Ant._
  
  _Gon._ All three of them are desperate: their great guilt,
  Like poison given to work a great time after,                      105
  Now 'gins to bite the spirits. I do beseech you,
  That are of suppler joints, follow them swiftly,
  And hinder them from what this ecstasy
  May now provoke them to.
  
  _Adr._                 Follow, I pray you.    [_Exeunt._
  
  
    Notes: III, 3.
  
    2: _ache_] _ake_ F2 F3 F4. _akes_ F1.
    3: _forth-rights_] F2 F3 F4. _fourth rights_ F1.
    8: _flatterer_] F1. _flatterers_ F2 F3 F4.
    17: Prospero above] Malone. Prosper on the top Ff. See note (XIV).
    20: _were_] F1 F2 F3. _are_ F4.
    26: _'tis true_] _to 't_ Steevens conj.
    _did lie_] _lied_ Hanmer.
    29: _islanders_] F2 F3 F4. _islands_ F1.
    32: _gentle-kind_] Theobald. _gentle, kind_ Ff. _gentle kind_ Rowe.
    36: _muse_] F1 F2 F3. _muse_, F4. _muse_; Capell.
    48: _of five for one_] Ff. _on five for one_ Theobald.
      _of one for five_ Malone, (Thirlby conj.) See note (XV).
    49-51: _I will ... past_] Mason conjectured that these lines formed
      a rhyming couplet.
    53: SCENE IV. Pope.
    54: _instrument_] _instruments_ F4.
    56: _belch up you_] F1 F2 F3. _belch you up_ F4. _belch up_ Theobald.
    60: [... draw their swords] Hanmer.
    65: _dowle_] _down_ Pope.]
    _plume_] Rowe. _plumbe_ F1 F2 F3. _plumb_ F4.
    67: _strengths_] _strength_ F4.
    79: _wraths_] _wrath_ Theobald.
    81: _heart-sorrow_] Edd. _hearts-sorrow_ Ff. _heart's-sorrow_ Rowe.
      _heart's sorrow_ Pope.
    82: mocks] mopps Theobald.
    86: _life_] _list_ Johnson conj.
    90: _now_] om. Pope.
    92: _whom_] _who_ Hanmer.
    93: _mine_] _my_ Rowe.
    [Exit above] Theobald.]
    94: _something holy, sir_,] _something, holy Sir_, F4.
    99: _bass_] Johnson. _base_ Ff.
    106: _do_] om. Pope.
  
  
  
  
  
  
feat_summary_name: act 3, Scene 3
target: Alonso, Adrian, Francisco, Sebastian, Antonio, and Gonzalo are still wandering about the island, and Alonzo has finally given up any hope of his son Ferdinand being alive. Antonio and Sebastian decide to make their murderous move later that night, but their conspiracy is interrupted by Prospero sending in a huge banquet via his spirits, with he himself there, but invisible. They are all amazed, but not too taken aback that they will not eat the food; but, as they are about to eat, a vengeful Ariel enters, taking credit for their shipwreck, and makes the banquet vanish. Alonso recognizes Ariel's words as being of Prospero's pen, and the great guilt of Alonso, Antonio, and Sebastian begins to take them over, at the thought of Prospero being alive, and so nearby.
feat_summary_analysis: Ferdinand is stripped of the privileges of his rank by Prospero, who did the same to Caliban by making him a slave as well. Prospero's action in this case might not be fair, but Ferdinand bears it, and in so doing, legitimates Prospero's rule, just as Caliban did; this case again stresses the theme that willful obedience is a legitimate source of power. Prospero's tone, when speaking of Ferdinand in this act, is a curious mix of affection and distaste; he refers to Ferdinand as "poor worm," which could be taken as a statement of endearment. However, the worm was often used as a symbol of corruption and lust, as mentioned in Act 2, scene 4 of Twelfth Night, and as it is represented in William Blake's poem "The Rose". In this case, the symbolic meaning foreshadows Prospero's suspicious warnings to the couple to wait until their wedding ceremony, and recalls his accusation of Ferdinand of treason and bad faith in the first act. In his speech in this act, Ferdinand employs paradox, overstatement, etc. in his many entreaties to Miranda. The mistress which I serve quickens what's dead, and makes my labours pleasures," Ferdinand says, using paradoxes that communicate how magical and wonderful his beloved is, to turn the unpleasant pleasant. A contrast between Miranda and her father shows her to be much more pleasant than her father, who's "composed of harshness": yet, he declares, with overstatement, that he will carry "some thousands of these logs" for his stern taskmaster, because of the great sweetness of Miranda. Ferdinand overstates his resolve, in order to impress upon Miranda how much he would do for her; he swears that he would rather "crack sinews, break back" than see her work, though his work could scarcely be hard enough to cause these injuries. They make all the vows of marriage to each other; Ferdinand swears to "love, prize, and honour" Miranda, and in turn Miranda pledges to give him her "modesty," meaning her virginity. They give each other their hands, and Miranda declares him her "husband"; the show of love is nice, but they know almost nothing about each other, and given that they have been together for less than twenty-four hours, the sentiment is rather rash, and almost foolish. Ferdinand and Miranda speak with a poetic, romantic, unrealistic tone that is very similar to the tone used by Romeo and Juliet when they spoke to each other; the same devices, of overstatement, paradox, contrast, and comparison are used to make elegant compliments to each other, and high-flown declarations of love. Ferdinand slips into conventional, polished phrases when speaking to this woman whom he hardly knows, an example being when he tells her "'tis fresh morning with me when you are by at night," though they have not been through a night together at all. Indeed, Ferdinand and Miranda's love is the same sort of instant physical attraction that Romeo and Juliet had, though Romeo and Juliet's love was not influenced by a mischievous sprite like Ariel. Although Ferdinand hardly knows Miranda, he brazenly declares her "perfect and peerless," though she cannot be either of those. The mood and feel of these passages is very different from those appearing before it, and are guided by a blind sort of idealism, and a naive, young love. The language in these sections of the play also turns distinctly sexual, with maidenly Miranda showing her hidden, but mature knowledge of desire and sexual politics. Miranda explains the urgency of her love to Ferdinand by telling him "all the more it seeks to hide itself, the bigger bulk it shows"; note the image of a concealed pregnancy in her description, which coincides with the increase in their declared desire. Miranda "dare not offer what desire to give" to Ferdinand, betraying the lust behind her maidenly exterior; and she acknowledges the sexual exchange inherent in marriage, that the "jewel in dower" is the main treasure which she has to attract a husband. Miranda may seem young and isolated, but this scene shows that she is far more knowledgeable about worldly matters than one might expect, given her upbringing on this remote island