The Tempest

by Franzeska G. Ewart

  No sooner had King Alonso woken, than his thoughts turned back to Ferdinand; he was anxious to move away from danger and look for him. He was almost sure it would be a pointless search, but there was still a tiny glimmer of hope inside his heart.

  And there, for the time being, we’ll leave him; for now I’m going to tell you about the second murder plot: the plot against Prospero, hatched by Caliban and his two new friends. But, before I do, I must introduce you properly to Caliban. He’s a strange character and an important one, so you should know him well.

  How can I describe him? Well, let’s say that if you saw Caliban’s twisted tree-root of a body and his big, clawed feet, I’m sure you’d think you’d seen a monster. And I daresay if you smelt him, you’d think he was monstrously smelly. Certainly, he’s a rough, earthy fellow with no airs and graces and – some would say – little in the way of finer feelings. Yet, even now, I often find myself wondering how he is and what he’s doing.

  Caliban, you see, could be considered lord of this isle. It had, after all, belonged to his mother, Sycorax, before she died. And, for all his roughness, perhaps Caliban really is the best ruler it could have. He understands it, you see. From the time he could crawl, he knew where to find the best berries, and the tastiest salt, and the sweetest water; and when Prospero and Miranda arrived and took charge, he happily shared all his knowledge with them. Surprisingly, at first, Caliban didn’t mind doing all their tough, dirty work; and when Prospero and Miranda started to teach him how to speak their language, he was a willing pupil.

  It came to a dreadful end though, when Miranda grew into a beautiful young girl. You see, Caliban had the idea that he, as king of the island, should have her as his queen. And one look at Caliban makes it clear that this was not a choice Miranda or her father was going to make. Miranda, after all, is a beauty; and Caliban – for better or for worse – is a beast.

  Once Prospero realised what Caliban wanted – a wife and family – he was both shocked and furious. He was afraid for his daughter’s safety, too, and so he shut Caliban up in a cave and only allowed him out to work. He treated him like an animal and, in return, Caliban acted like one.

  Beast though Caliban was, I believe he did want to learn. He remembered things he’d been taught by Prospero and Miranda, you see – like the names of the stars, and the story of the man in the moon. Perhaps, if Prospero had given him more time, Caliban would have learned and understood much more. Perhaps, if things had been different, he could have sung my songs – for he always loved my music. But Caliban didn’t learn enough. Here’s what he said about the ‘language’ Prospero and Miranda had tried so hard to teach him:

  You taught me language, and my profit on’t

  Is, I know how to curse.

  Oh yes – I’ll say that for Caliban – he was mighty good at cursing! And on the afternoon of our story, when the tempest was over but the sky was still grey, he was in as foul a mood as ever he had been. How he cursed Prospero! This is what he said:

  All the infections that the sun sucks up

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

  By inch-meal a disease. His spirits hear me,

  And yet I needs must curse.

  Dreadful, isn’t it? If Caliban had had the power, he’d surely have infected our master with the worst diseases he could conjure up. For Caliban was always angry that he was kept prisoner by Prospero and treated so badly by him.

  Although Caliban and I were both Prospero’s slaves, you see, our lives couldn’t have been more different. My work was all magic, enchantments, music and wild flights of fancy, whereas Caliban’s was just hard labour – gathering logs, mostly, to keep Prospero’s cave cosy. It was hardly the kind of work you could be inspired by and, oh, he did it so unwillingly! He grudged Prospero every splinter of that firewood, and it’s easy to see why. For Caliban was king of the isle, wasn’t he? So when you look at it like that – a king being made into a slave by a man who’s taken over his kingdom – is it any wonder Caliban was furious? Is it any wonder he did his work slowly and with as many foul curses as he possibly could? And, believe me, every time he cursed, or refused to do what he was told, he was horribly punished.

  Prospero had to punish Caliban, for he had no reward of freedom with which to bribe him, as he had with me. Caliban could only have his freedom if Prospero left the island. Or if Prospero died…

  Which brings us to the second murder plot, which Caliban hatched against Prospero and which – be warned – was monstrously brutal, monstrously vicious and, above all, monstrously stupid.

  Now, to set the scene, I provided a most dramatic sound effect. Imagine hearing Caliban’s curse, roared in as furious a voice as you’ve ever heard, followed by an earsplitting crack of thunder. How splendidly loud were my booms! Mercilessly, I rumbled down on the poor, angry monster, as he trudged along with his load of logs, growling and grumbling all the while. And, of course, my thunder made Caliban’s foul mood a hundred times fouler! He just couldn’t help letting out a string of curses.

  He knew, of course, he’d be punished later because, even if Prospero wasn’t within earshot, there were always spirits hiding under stones, beneath leaves, within flowers. They’d tell Prospero, for sure, and then the punishments would come as surely as rainbows follow sun-showers!

  Unfair, wasn’t it? Think what it must have been like to be Caliban…

  You do something wrong one day, and that night you’re pinched all over with sharp pains so you can’t sleep. Next day, you’re so exhausted you work too slowly, and this time you’re pushed into a muddy swamp.

  And those little spirits that Prospero keeps all over the island could change their shapes like me (though not as expertly). So your next punishment could be a great crowd of apes pulling horrible faces, chattering at the tops of their voices, and then biting you.

  Or, if you think that’s bad, how do you fancy having hedgehogs appear under your bare feet as you’re dragging your firewood along, and driving their spikes into your soles?

  Or being wound all round by adders that squeeze you tight, and then sway to and fro in front of your face, flicking their tongues in and out, and hissing into your ears till you feel you’ll go mad?

  It was certainly no fun being Caliban.

  Let’s take a closer look: here he is, cursing fit to burst and then dreading the consequences, and here am I, thundering down on him. And then, just as he thinks the day can’t get any worse, the most hideous spirit he has ever seen appears.

  Now this spirit’s a bit odd… He walks on two legs, or rather he sways from side to side – for he’s been shipwrecked and hasn’t quite found his land-legs yet. He wears a red-and-yellow suit and a red-and-yellow hat with three points, and to each point there’s a little bell attached. He’s scared out of his wits and, because he’s just escaped from the sea, he doesn’t want another drenching. So he’s eyeing the black cloud overhead and thinking miserably that it reminds him of a big barrel of wine, just about to pour its contents on top of his silly head.

  Yes, I’m sure you’ve guessed – it’s not a spirit at all. It’s the first of those two clowns I told you about. It’s Trinculo, King Alonso’s jester, washed up from the shipwreck. He hasn’t a clue where he is, and he could certainly do with a drink to calm his frayed nerves!

  And this is where the comedy begins, for Caliban, terrified by the sight of the ‘spirit’, has crawled under a piece of old sheeting that’s lying washed up on the beach, and now Trinculo sees him. Or rather he sees a large, smelly cloak with a pair of large, smelly clawed feet sticking out from under it, and he decides to investigate. When he does; he sees he’s made quite a discovery!

  Look how excited Trinculo is. He’s found a monster – half-man, half-fish. What a find! See how his greedy eyes sparkle, for no sooner has he decided that’s what Caliban is than he’s planning how much money he can make out of him. What a rogue that jester is. He’s rubbing his hands together with glee as he imagines how muc
h people back home will pay to see this freak. It’s better than a bearded lady, or a giant, or a baby with two heads. He’ll make his fortune.

  Of course I know what he’s up to and I’m going to make life difficult for him – so what do I do? I thunder again! And, just as I’d hoped, Trinculo, who doesn’t want another soaking, crawls under Caliban’s cloak. Imagine it! One large, fishy-smelling cloak with one pair of large, smelly Caliban-feet sticking out one end, and one pair of small, red-and-yellow Trinculo-feet sticking out the other. The stage is set for the entry of the second clown, and what a clown he is.

  Enter Stephano, King Alonso’s butler – and be warned, he is very much the worse for drink, for he’s floated ashore astride a barrel of wine, which he’s now proceeding to empty! He’s taking great swigs from the wooden bottle, and he’s singing very loudly and very tunelessly, and when Caliban hears him, he’s beside himself with terror. The first ‘spirit’, he thinks, has been joined by another. He peeps out from under the cloak and, before he knows what’s happening, he’s being offered a drink by Stephano. Caliban has never tasted alcohol, and at first he spits it out, but Stephano doesn’t give up. He tells him to ‘open his chops’, and this time he pours the drink down Caliban’s throat.

  Meanwhile, under the cloak, Trinculo’s puzzled. He hears Stephano’s voice – but surely his old friend and drinking companion is drowned? Like Caliban, he begins to think he’s being haunted by spirits, and cries out. And when Stephano hears Trinculo’s voice, he can’t believe his luck!

  Four legs and two voices, he says. A most delicate monster!

  Eventually, those two bits of flotsam realise what’s happening. Stephano drags Trinculo out from under the cloak and you can imagine how relieved and delighted they are to find they’ve both survived the storm. Look at them dance around!

  Do you remember what Ferdinand thought when he first saw Miranda? And what Miranda thought when she first saw Ferdinand? They both thought they were seeing gods, for I had made sure they were completely blinded by love. Well, there was certainly magic in the island’s air that afternoon, for here’s what Caliban said when he saw the drunken old butler Stephano:

  That’s a brave god, and bears celestial liquor. I will kneel to him.

  And that’s where the second murder plot began to take shape. For Caliban was entranced by a very ordinary mortal (or rather, he was entranced by the effects of a very ordinary mortal’s very ordinary wine), and he suddenly realised he’d found his heart’s desire. Or thought he had.

  Listen to what he’s saying to Stephano now:

  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.

  Ridiculous, isn’t it? A few mouthfuls of wine, and there’s Caliban swearing to follow this man for the rest of his days. And of course Stephano’s lapping it up like a cat does cream. He’s never felt so important in his life. Suddenly he – a mere servant – is being treated like royalty! Even Trinculo sees it’s ridiculous. As you might guess, he’s really put out, for he’s jealous of Stephano’s new friend, and so he heaps insult upon insult on Caliban.

  But things are starting to become dangerous now. Stephano’s suddenly got ideas well above his station. He’s drunk with wine, for sure – but he’s also drunk with power. King Alonso’s drowned, isn’t he? And his son, and all the courtiers? Aren’t he and Trinculo the sole survivors of the storm? Doesn’t that make them lords of the island?

  Meanwhile Caliban, his head spinning, is happier than he’s ever been. He’s got a new master, and this master won’t punish him like Prospero. This master is going to be a great master. Caliban will do anything for him – in exchange for a drink.

  Watch them stagger along the beach together. Aren’t they a laughable trio, if ever there was one. With Stephano and Trinculo as lords of the island, what hope has the place got? But now, as they weave their way along, the comedy’s starting to fade, and things are becoming sinister. That dark mind of Caliban’s is growing darker and darker. The resentment he’s been feeling during all those years of imprisonment is coming to the surface. He’s got a fine new master, and now he’s going to make sure he keeps him – by getting rid of the old one, for ever…

  Act Four

  Trinculo, Stephano and Caliban staggered along the sands, and all the while Stephano, who was even drunker than his friend, was making his plans. He and Trinculo were going to rule the island, with Caliban as their servant. Oh, how ridiculous I found them. For of course I was with them, every staggering step of the way. And, believe me, I had my fun with those clowns!

  Have you ever wondered what it would be like to be invisible? Have you ever thought about what you could do? Because it’s great to be a storm at sea, or a thunderbolt, or a lightning flash – all these things give you enormous power. But to be invisible … now that is perhaps the most powerful magic of all, and the most fun. Listen to what it’s like...

  When you’re invisible, you can be as close to people as the hairs on their heads, are to their scalps. You can hear them breathe, and whisper, and sigh. You can almost hear their thoughts, yet they haven’t the slightest idea you’re there.

  Now that’s what I call ‘power’ – because you can make such fools of them, and I used my cloak of invisibility to make even bigger fools of Stephano and Trinculo than they already were. As you hear how I did it, I’m sure you’re going to wish you had a cloak of invisibility like me.

  There they were, Stephano and Trinculo, on the sands, so drunk I’ll swear they would have punched the air if it had dared blow in their faces. And there was Caliban, fawning at Stephano’s feet and swearing to follow him all his days. Oh how shamelessly he flattered that silly old butler!

  Now, the more Caliban flattered Stephano, and the more puffed-up with pride Stephano became, the angrier it made Trinculo. For Trinculo, drunk as he was, was not as foolish as his friend, and he could see how stupid Stephano’s plans to rule the island really were. He knew how ridiculous Stephano was to trust Caliban, too.

  And as they went on in the direction of Prospero’s cave, arguing about Caliban, I kept close, weaving my way in and out of the air, breathing in every word these fools uttered, and waiting for the opportunity to play my tricks. I knew, you see, that I had to split up those two silly friends. For Caliban could only persuade Stephano to plot with him against Prospero. Trinculo would never, ever be convinced.

  Soon my chance came. When Caliban told Stephano he would only serve him, and that Trinculo was not ‘valiant’ enough to be his master, Trinculo’s blood fairly boiled.

  Thou liest! he shouted at Caliban. Then he hurled insult after insult at him, which made Caliban turn to his new ‘master’ for protection. Would you believe it, he asked Stephano to bite Trinculo to death! And Stephano didn’t let him down – he told Trinculo to keep a good tongue in his head, and warned him that if he didn’t behave, he’d be hanged!

  It really was funny to watch, but I knew I had no time to be entertained. I seized my chance to split up those clowns, and let the murder plot develop. As Caliban told Stephano how badly Prospero treated him, I shouted, Thou liest! I shouted it in a voice that sounded a bit like Trinculo’s, and my trick worked a treat. Caliban was furious with Trinculo, and so was Stephano. This time, he threatened to knock his teeth out if he said one more nasty thing.

  Poor old Trinculo, he didn’t have a clue why he was being picked on. He protested his innocence, but Stephano only had ears for Caliban. He wanted to hear all about his plans to get rid of Prospero. And the more Caliban told him, the more tempted he was by the thought of being lord of the island.

  Remember the first murder plot? The one against King Alonso? Antonio did the same thing, didn’t he? He tempted Sebastian by saying he could imagine him with a crown on his head, and then it wasn’t long before Seb
astian’s thoughts turned to murder.

  It was just like that with Stephano. The more Caliban spoke, the more interested he became, and when Caliban said:

  I’ll yield him thee asleep

  Where thou mayst knock a nail into his head

  that old drunkard didn’t bat an eyelid at the thought of the crime he was agreeing to.

  I did, though. I called out again – Thou liest, thou canst not!

  This time, Caliban almost hit Trinculo. Both he and Stephano were furious; but as for me – if I’d had sides, they would have split with laughter. I knew I was almost there, so I said, Thou liest! one last time. And, to my delight, Stephano took a swipe at Trinculo. Then Trinculo, who still hadn’t a clue what was going on, very nearly burst into tears.

  What children these men were. But I suppose I was like a child, too, with my naughty tricks!

  Those tricks worked a treat, though. Stephano ordered Trinculo to go away, and Trinculo retreated, leaving Stephano alone for Caliban to tell him all the details of his devilish plot. And ‘devilish’ it certainly was. I hope you’ve got a strong stomach, for I’m going to tell you all the ways Caliban suggested Stephano might kill Prospero…

  If he didn’t fancy the first suggestion – knocking a nail into his head – he could batter Prospero’s skull with a log. If that wasn’t violent enough, he could stab him in the stomach with a stake. Or, if he preferred something a little more gory, he could cut his throat with a knife. Well, Prospero always said Caliban was a ‘born devil’!

  But there was something else that Caliban told Stephano to do, and it was so important that he told him three times – first seize his books. For Caliban was no fool. He knew very well that without his magic books, Prospero was a weak, old man, and without the help of all us spirits, he’d be an easy victim.