ACT I
[As the Roman Interlude closes, the light passes from the
ground-circle to the middle stage, where Prospero—descending
his throne with Ariel—moves toward the centre. While they
speak together there, Caliban—coming from his cave—crawls
part way up the steps and lies flat, occasionally lifting
his head to listen.]
PROSPERO
So, Ariel, I have harvested for thee
These orchards of mine art, and let thee taste
Their varied fruitages, some that have ripened
In climes auspicious, some that are part decayed.
Now from three vineyards—Egypt, Greece, and Rome—
I will distill a varicolored wine
For Caliban to drink. So, steeped in spirit,
Haply he also shall see visions. Hast
Thou learned by heart all that I whispered to thee?
PROSPERO
Tell me part.
ARIEL
You will create
Out of this world of art three scenes of vision.
PROSPERO
And who shall act them—say!
ARIEL
My Spirits shall;
And I will be their Prologue.
PROSPERO
For what purpose?
ARIEL
To tutor this beast.
PROSPERO
And why?
PROSPERO
So! and to dispel the Powers
Of Setebos, I have transformed his cave
To be her temple and my theatre.—Look!
[Prospero raises his staff toward the darkness that conceals
the background. As he does so, increasing light reveals the
rude, irregular contours of the cave of Setebos transformed
to the architectural lines of a splendid proscenium, in the
oblong of which the Cloudy Curtains shut off the inner stage.
The idol of Setebos has vanished.
While this transformation is taking place, the Spirit Choirs
of Ariel appear above the proscenium, singing.]
SPIRITS OF ARIEL
In the same abode and cell
Where the Toad was wont to dwell,
And the Tiger stretched his claw,
We have built a shrine of Law:
We have chosen the lair of hate
To love, imagine and create.
Out of blood and dross,
Out of Setebos,
We are risen to show
The art of Prospero:
Here within his head and heart
Our souls are servants of his art.
[Their appearances vanish above.]
ARIEL
Most noble Master! Show me now behind
Those cloudy curtains: How have you transformed
The cave within?
PROSPERO
Come; I will show thee how.
[Prospero and Ariel pass through the curtains at the
centre and disappear within.
Meanwhile Caliban, peering above the top step, stares
in dumb awe at the changed scene. There he is hailed
from below by the priest of Setebos, Lust, who comes
forth from his cell and calls:]
LUST
Caliban! Remember Setebos!
CALIBAN
[Starting, backs down the steps in scared pantomime.]
Aye, Setebos! But I hear their watch-dogs bark:
Bow-wow! I feel their tongue-bites yet—their torments.
LUST
Caliban! Restore thy father’s temple.
CALIBAN
Yea, but my father had no feet to dance.
Curse on their yellow sands! They sting my eyes
Still wi’ their blindings. Blast ’em!
[He springs part way up the steps again.]
LUST
Caliban!
Restore the priests of Setebos!
CALIBAN
His priests!
Nay, what if the cock sang—their chanticleer
His Diddle-diddle-dow! Burneth my spine
Still with that crowing.
[Reënter Prospero through the curtains.]
LUST
Hush! he comes again.
I await thy call. Cry on Caligula
And I will come.
PROSPERO
[Calling within the curtains.]
Now, Ariel, where art thou?
Ariel!
ARIEL
[Stepping forth from behind the curtains, dressed in
the garb of Prologue, bows low.]
Here, great Master! I am now
Prologus, at your service.
PROSPERO
Nay, not mine
But his. [Calling.]
Come, Caliban: behold thy tutor.
Behind these curtains he will show thee now
More than thy nature dreams on. If thou obey him
And learn mine art, thou shalt go free like him.
If not, thou shalt be spitted on a tooth
More sharp than Setebos. What sayest?
CALIBAN
[Cringing.]
Lord,
Art Cock o’ the world, and Caliban thy worm;
Yea, only beggeth thee crow no more, nor set
Thy dancing dogs to bark at him.
PROSPERO
Tush, fool:
Wilt thou obey?
CALIBAN
Obeyeth both of you.
PROSPERO
That’s well. Sit here and watch. Now, Ariel,
Thy prologue: then reveal what lies behind.
[Prospero mounts his throne, on the steps of which Caliban
squats below him, watching and listening with growing
curiosity. At the centre, before the Cloudy Curtains,
Ariel speaks.]
ARIEL
From Egypt, by our Master’s art,
Behold now, when these curtains part,
A scene of fleeting pageantry:
Behold where pale Mark Antony
Hath fled his sore defeated ships
In quest of Cleopatra’s lips,
And turned the tides of war amiss
To pawn a kingdom for a kiss.—
So, by my Spirits’ acting, see
Of what strange stuff these humans be!
FIRST INNER SCENE
Against a background of deep blue sky, the barge[14] of Cleopatra lies moored at an ancient wharf:
From the left, along the wharf, enters Mark Antony, attended by Soldiers and Populace in Roman and Egyptian garb.
ANTONY
Hark! the land bids me tread no more upon ’t;
It is ashamed to bear me! Friends, come hither.
I am so hated in the world, that I
Have lost my way forever. I have a ship
Laden with gold; take that, divide it; fly,
And make your peace with Cæsar.
ALL
Fly! Not we.
ANTONY
I have fled myself; and have instructed cowards
To run and show their shoulders. Friends, be gone;
I have myself resolv’d upon a course
Which has no need of you; be gone....
Nay, do so; for, indeed, I have lost command....
[His followers depart, and Antony throws himself
down on a buttress of the wharf.
Meantime from the barge, Cleopatra—who has
looked on and listened—is led down to the landing
by Charmian and her Attendants, behind whom Eros
[a friend of Antony] follows.
They approach Antony, who—absorbed in his
grief—does not see them.]
EROS
Nay, gentle madam, to him, comfort him....
CHARMIAN
Do! Why, what else?
CLEOPATRA
Let me sit down. O Juno!
[As Cleopatra sinks down near him, Antony—now
beholding her—starts up with a cry of surprise and
passionate pain.]
ANTONY
No, no, no; no, no!
EROS
[Pointing to Cleopatra’s piteous aspect.]
See you here, sir?
ANTONY
[Hiding his face.]
O fie, fie, fie!
CHARMIAN
[Bending over her.]
Madam!
ANTONY
Yes, my lord, yes; he at Philippi kept
His sword e’en like a dancer, while I struck
The lean and wrinkled Cassius; and ’twas I
That the mad Brutus ended ... yet now—No matter.
[He sinks down again.]
CLEOPATRA
[Rising, to her Attendants.]
Ah, stand by ... sustain me! O!
EROS
Most noble sir, arise; the queen approaches.
Her head’s declin’d, and death will seize her, but
Your comfort makes the rescue.
ANTONY
[Drawing still away, despairfully.]
I have offended reputation,
A most unnoble swerving.
EROS
Sir, the queen!
ANTONY
[Suddenly crying out.]
O, whither hast thou led me, Egypt? See,
How I convey my shame out of thine eyes
By looking back what I have left behind
’Stroy’d in dishonor.
CLEOPATRA
O my lord, my lord,
Forgive my fearful sails! I little thought
You would have follow’d.
ANTONY
Egypt, thou knew’st too well
My heart was to thy rudder tied by the strings,
And thou shouldst tow me after. O’er my spirit
Thy full supremacy thou knew’st, and that
Thy beck might from the bidding of the gods
Command me.
CLEOPATRA
O my pardon!
ANTONY
Now I must
To the young man send humble treaties, dodge
And palter in the shifts of lowness; who
With half the bulk o’ the world play’d as I pleased,
Making and marring fortunes. You did know
How much you were my conqueror; and that
My sword, made weak by my affection, would
Obey it on all cause.
CLEOPATRA
[Touching his arm, clings to him.]
Pardon, pardon!
ANTONY
[Overcome at her touch.]
Fall not a tear, I say; one of them rates
All that is won and lost. Give me a kiss.
Even this repays me.... Wine!
Bring wine, within there: wine! For fortune knows
We scorn her most when most she offers blows.
[He embraces Cleopatra.
From the right slaves enter, bearing chalices and
wine-beakers. With them come flutists and harpers,
making festal music.
Snatching from them a golden cup, Antony raises
it aloft with an impassioned gesture, returning the
triumphant smile of the Egyptian queen.]
[Meantime Caliban, who has risen absorbed and drawn slowly
nearer in child-like fascination, stands for an instant,
bewildered. Then, with a cry, he leaps forward in the dim-lit
space and gropes along the curtains with arms wide.]
CALIBAN
Ho, light! All’s smother: ’tis gone! Yo—yo, all gone—
Cloud-swallowed, all! Ah, woman, snake-bright queen,
Thou wonder-thing, come back! Ah, where—where—where?
PROSPERO
So, so! Canst thou, then, taste my vision, slave?
[He descends the throne toward Caliban.]
CALIBAN
[Staring about him.]
O dazzle-blue, gold-shine, hot lotus smell!
Blood-root in bloom, and scarlet water-weed!—
O silver sight and tinkle-tickling sound!—
Spurteth my body with joy—burst in my brain
Enormous moons of wonder!—Float, still float,
You purpling sails! Blaze, thou flame-woman! Speak
Sparkles of kissing fire!
PROSPERO
[Approaching him.]
Nay, art thou touched
Beyond thy tiger cravings?
CALIBAN
Ho, Lord Master,
Lord Chanticleer, unswallow from thy gorge
The world thou hast devoured!
PROSPERO
[Pointing toward Ariel, who comes forth again as
Prologus through the curtains.]
Ask of thy tutor;
He hath revealed that world to thy brute ken.—
Ariel, this lump of earth hath dreams within ’t,
That now begin to sprout. Send it more sun
And watering.
ARIEL
Sir, your art is rain and sun:
I am but air, to carry its wet or warmth
Whereso you list.
PROSPERO
So let it fall on him
Till he shall wax to a more worthy plant
For Miranda’s temple-garden.—Here is my Staff:
This wields my power. Here keep it in thy charge
Till I return. So, use it as a rod
To instruct this bungling cub of Setebos.
ARIEL
[As Prospero goes.]
I will, sir.—Go you far?
PROSPERO
No farther than
The frontiers of mine art. Farewell a while!
[Prospero passes within through the curtains. Half
confiding, half suspicious, Caliban comes near to
Ariel and questions him.]
CALIBAN
Art, saith! What’s that—his art?
ARIEL
’Tis that which burns
Now in thy blood: the same which conjured hither
Bright Egypt and the kiss of Antony.
CALIBAN
The woman and the kiss! Nay, saidest now
’Tis rain and sun!
CALIBAN
Where falleth his rain?
Where shineth his sun?
ARIEL
Yonder on the Yellow Sands.
CALIBAN
Nay, show me this art! Is ’t hidden in thy hand?
Here, let me hold the staff.
[Caliban reaches for the staff; Ariel raises it warningly.]
ARIEL
Stay! Touch it not
Lest it shall scorch thy fingers and set fire
To the building world. The staff of Prospero
Is for his servants, not for slaves, to wield.
CALIBAN
[Drawing back from it, in fear.]
Scorcheth my fingers, ah?—So wield it, thou!
Show me once more the snake-bright queen.
ARIEL
Nay, Egypt
No more! But come with me to Prosper’s throne
Where I play master now. Here thou shalt sit
And watch the battlements of eternal Troy
Where Troilus woos inconstant Cressida.
CALIBAN
Showest me once more—woman?
ARIEL
Even so;
For many kinds of woman make mankind.
[Rising, Ariel points toward the inner stage
and speaks chantingly.]
Now, from out Time’s storied sphere,
Homer’s Troy I summon here,
On a dawn when Hector seeks
Battle with the besieging Greeks:
There, while heroes throng the gates,
Cressida her lover ’waits,
Casting from a height apart
Tangling hooks for Troilus’ heart.—
Behold her now, by Prosper’s art!
[Ariel raises his staff.]
SECOND INNER SCENE[15]
The Cloudy Curtains draw back, revealing the battlements of Troy. Above, on a rampart, in the first rays of morning, CRESSIDA appears, with a maiden Attendant.
Below, murmuring crowds are looking toward the outer gates. Among them pass the aged Trojan Queen, and the Greek Helen, in her younger beauty.
CRESSIDA
[Peering below.]
Who were those went by?
ATTENDANT
Queen Hecuba and Helen.
CRESSIDA
And whither go they?
ATTENDANT
Up to the eastern tower
To see the battle—Hector,
Before the sun uprose, was harnessed light
And to the field goes he.
[Enter behind them Pandarus.]
CRESSIDA
Hector’s a gallant man.—
[Turning to greet him.]
Good morrow, Uncle Pandarus.
PANDARUS
[Smiling.]
Good morrow, Cousin Cressid.
[Trumpets are sounded, off left.]
Hark! They are coming from the field. Shall we
stand up here and see them as they pass toward
Ilium?
CRESSIDA
At your pleasure.
[They move to a better vantage. At a gesture
from Cressida the Attendant departs.]
PANDARUS
Here, here’s an excellent place. I’ll tell you them
all by their names, as they pass by; but mark
Troilus above the rest.
CRESSIDA
[With a reproving laugh.]
Speak not so loud.
[Below, from the left, Trojan warriors, in battle
gear, begin to pass by, through the admiring
populace who cheer them occasionally.
Among them
ÆNEAS PASSES
PANDARUS
That’s Æneas: is not that a brave man? He’s one
of the flowers of Troy, I can tell you. But mark
Troilus; you shall see anon.
ANTENOR PASSES
CRESSIDA
Who’s that?
PANDARUS
That’s Antenor: he’s one o’ the soundest judgments
in Troy. But when comes Troilus? I’ll show
you Troilus anon. If he sees me, you shall see
him nod at me.
CRESSIDA
[Archly.]
Will he give you the nod?
PANDARUS
You shall see.
CRESSIDA
If he do, the rich shall have more.
HECTOR PASSES
PANDARUS
That’s Hector: that, that, look you, that; there’s a fellow!
Go thy way, Hector! There’s a brave man, niece.
CRESSIDA
O, a brave man!
PANDARUS
Swords! anything, he cares not; an the devil comes to
him, it’s all one. Yonder comes Paris—Paris!
PARIS PASSES
Who said he came hurt home to-day? He’s not hurt.
Why, this will do Helen’s heart good now, ha! Would
I could see Troilus now! You shall see Troilus anon.
HELENUS PASSES
CRESSIDA
Who’s that?
PANDARUS
[Searching with his eyes, grows impatiently expectant.]
That’s Helenus.—I marvel where Troilus is.—That’s
Helenus—I think he went not forth to-day.—That’s
Helenus.
CRESSIDA
Can Helenus fight, uncle?
PANDARUS
Helenus? no. Yes, he’ll fight indifferent well.—I
marvel where Troilus is. Hark! do you hear the
people cry “Troilus?”
TROILUS PASSES
[As he approaches, the populace cheer him.
His eyes, however, search about till they rest on
the battlement, where Cressida, returning his look,
starts back, trembling.
Noting both their actions, Pandarus continues
flauntingly to point out the young hero.]
’Tis Troilus! There’s a man, niece. Hem! Brave Troilus!
CRESSIDA
Peace! For shame, peace!
PANDARUS
Mark him: note him. O brave Troilus! Look well
upon him, niece; look you how his sword is bloodied,
and his helm more hacked than Hector’s.
O admirable youth! Go thy way, Troilus, go thy
way! Had I a sister were a grace, or a daughter a
goddess, he should take his choice. O admirable
man! Paris? Paris is dirt to him.
[While he is speaking, Cressida has taken from her
hair a flower, knotted its stem to an arrow, and
dropped the arrow beneath the rampart, where Troilus
lifts it with a smile and happy gesture, bearing it away
with him, right. As Pandarus now turns to her,
Cressida looks away left and points to others below.]
CRESSIDA
Here comes more.
MORE FORCES PASS
PANDARUS
Asses, fools, dolts! Chaff and bran! Porridge after
meat! I could live and die i’ the eyes of Troilus.
Ne’er look, ne’er look! the eagles are gone; crows
and daws, crows and daws! I had rather be such
a man as Troilus than Agamemnon and all Greece.
[Enter, above, Troilus’ Boy, who speaks to Pandarus.]
THE BOY
Sir, my lord Troilus would instantly speak with you.
PANDARUS
Where?
THE BOY
At your own house; there he unarms him.
PANDARUS
Good boy, tell him I come. [Exit Boy.]
Fare ye well, good niece.
[He goes off, above.]
CRESSIDA
Adieu, uncle!
[Below, the last of the soldiers and populace have
passed off, right, where Cressida gazes after them,
speaking aloud to herself:]
O more in Troilus thousandfold I see
Than in the glass of Pandar’s praise may be;
Yet hold I off. Women are angels, wooing.
Things won are done; joy’s soul lies in the doing.
[Below, from the right, Troilus hastens back, alone.
The arrow with the flower he has thrust through the
links in his chain armor on his left side. Pointing
to it, he calls up toward the battlement.]
TROILUS
Cressida!
CRESSIDA
[With a glad cry.]
Troilus!
[Unwinding her long wine-red scarf, she ties it to
the battlement, whence it flutters down to Troilus.
Seizing it, he mounts by its aid toward the rampart,
where the face of Cressida peers luringly above him.]
TROILUS
[Calling upward as he mounts.]
Cressida!
[Just as he is about to reach Cressida,
THE CLOUDY CURTAINS CLOSE.
[At the centre Caliban now leaps up in loud, excited
laughter. Clapping his hands in the air, he
strides toward Ariel on the throne.]
CALIBAN
Aha! Troy, Troy! Lips of Troyland and Egypt!
Lovers in links of gold! Ho, wine of woman
Bubbling in vats of war!—drinketh you all
Caliban, Caliban, son of Setebos.—Ariel,
Learnest me Art? Lo, now: I am his Artist!
Tell him, Lord Prospero, Caliban createth
Glories more ’stounding still. Art? Ho, ’tis God’s play!
But me? Am God i’ the mire: can make me Troy
And purple Egypt out of the mud i’ my palm;
Giveth me only that—his little play stick
[Pointing to the staff in Ariel’s hand.]
To stir in the mud withal.
ARIEL
Not yet!—This staff
Is wrought to stir the spirits of the air,
Not dabble i’ the slime.
CALIBAN
Why so? From bog-slime bloometh
The lotus, and the sea-lark feedeth her young
Along the salt flats.—
[With childish wheedling.]
Prithee—the staff?
ARIEL
[Descending the throne.]
’Twould burn thee.
Touch not till thou art free. Yet patience, monster,
For thou hast learned to answer well, and growest
Rarely in thought and speech.
CALIBAN
[Tickled to laughter.]
Yea, clever monster
Soon groweth monstrous clever. More art, fine Ariel!
Let Caliban speak thy Prologue.
ARIEL
Hush!—Miranda!
[From her shrine Miranda comes forth, with the Muses.
Seeing the two, she pauses astonished.]
MIRANDA
Nay!—Is this Ariel?
ARIEL
’Tis I—Prologus.
Will you hear me, Mistress?
MIRANDA
[As Caliban approaches.]
Thou!—thou, Caliban!
CALIBAN
[With confiding assurance.]
Liketh well thy father’s art,
Spring-i’-the-air.
MIRANDA
God speed thy learning, monster!
I am more fain to help thee in that task
Than all else in the world.
CALIBAN
[Astonished and eager.]
Wouldst help me—thou?
MIRANDA
How happy, if I could!
CALIBAN
Yea, canst thou!—Hark:
[Glancing from his garb to Ariel’s.]
Let me wear glory, too! What booteth me
To be his Artist, if I wear no cloth
To show my glory? He there talketh no Prologue
Without his toga. Tog me, too, in brave
Colors!
MIRANDA
Well thought on.
[To one of the Muses.]
Quick, Euterpe: Fetch
Bright vesture forth.
ARIEL
For Caliban?
MIRANDA
For whom
So fit? The need of beauty lies
Most near to them who lack it.
[Euterpe returns, bringing bright garments, which she and
the other Maidens help now to put upon Caliban.]
So, dear Muses:
Lay on!
CALIBAN
[Delightedly tries to survey himself.]
Ha, Sycorax, an thou wert here now
To look on this thy son!
[He parades, with swelling pleasure, before the Muses.]
Gaze well, good Spirits!
Now, Ariel, thy pupil soon shall teach thee
What thing this Art is: yea, teach Prospero
A lesson in ’s own lore.
MIRANDA
[To Ariel, who is about to protest.]
Pray, let him tarry
This time with us. He is too full of dreams
To act us harm. Speak on thy Prologue.
CALIBAN
[Still parading.]
Prologue!
Aye, good: my Prologue shall come after.
ARIEL
Mistress,
Keep here, this staff for your protection.
[Accepting the staff from Ariel, Miranda takes seat on
the shrine, where the Muses range themselves about her.]
MIRANDA
So!
Be near us, Caliban.
ARIEL
[At centre, before the curtains.]
Now, in Time’s emblazoned tome
Egypt, Greece, turn page for Rome.
CALIBAN
[Mutters aloud.]
Rome, ha! I’ll show you Rome!
ARIEL
Rocked by mighty Cæsar’s fall
Glooms the world in battle pall,
Where by midnight, worn and spent,
Weary Brutus, in his tent,
Watches ’mid the Roman host.
There the pallid Cæsar’s ghost
Rises from his candle-flame
Accusing.—Who shall bear that blame?
Can Brutus wake a world from shame?
[Ariel disappears through the curtains.
Miranda raises the staff.]
THIRD INNER SCENE
The Cloudy Curtains part, disclosing the tent of Brutus, by moonlight.
Brutus—his outer armor laid aside—sits on a couch: near him Lucius, a boy, nods drowsily over a stringed instrument. After a brief pause, Brutus—gazing at him—speaks wistfully:
BRUTUS
Bear with me, good boy:
Canst thou hold up thy heavy eyes awhile
And touch thy instrument a strain or two?
LUCIUS
Aye, my lord, an’t please you.
BRUTUS
It does, my boy:
I should not urge thy duty past thy might;
I know young bloods look for a time of rest.
LUCIUS
I have slept, my lord, already.
BRUTUS
It was well done; and thou shalt sleep again;
I will not hold thee long. If I do live
I will be good to thee.
LUCIUS
[Tuning his instrument, sings dreamily:]
Fear no more the frown o’ the great;
Thou art past the tyrant’s stroke.
Care no more to clothe and eat;
To thee the seed is as the oak.
The sceptre, learning, physic, must
All follow this and come to dust.
BRUTUS
This is a sleepy tune. O murderous slumber,
Lay’st thou thy leaden mace upon my boy
That plays thee music? Gentle knave, good-night;
I will not do thee so much wrong to wake thee.—
Let me see, let me see; is not the leaf turned down
Where I left reading? Here it is, I think.
[The Ghost of Cæsar appears.]
How ill this taper burns!—Ha! Who comes here?
I think it is the weakness of mine eyes
That shapes this monstrous apparition.
It comes upon me. Art thou anything?
Art thou some god, some angel, or some devil,
That makest my blood cold and my hair to stare?
Speak to me what thou art.
[In the darkness, dark ghostly shapes, hardly visible,
appear to urge forward the dead Cæsar, who alone
is luminous.]
THE GHOST
Thy evil spirit, Brutus.
BRUTUS
Why comest thou?
BRUTUS
Well; then I shall see thee again?
THE GHOST
Aye, at Philippi.
BRUTUS
Why, I will see thee at Philippi, then.
[The Ghost and the dim Shapes disappear.
Brutus rises.]
Now I have taken heart, thou vanishest:
Ill spirit, I would hold more talk with thee.—
[Calling aloud.]
Boy, Lucius! Romans, Romans! Awake—awake!
THE CLOUDY CURTAINS CLOSE