Acts 4-5: Resolution & Forgiveness
Act 4, Scene 1: The Wedding Masque
Prospero has tested Ferdinand’s love through the log-carrying task and is now satisfied. He blesses the marriage between Ferdinand and Miranda, and stages an elaborate masque performed by spirits. The goddesses Iris, Ceres, and Juno descend to bless the couple with fertility, abundance, and a prosperous future. The masque is beautiful, orderly, and controlled — a vision of harmony that represents everything Prospero hopes to achieve through his plan.
But Prospero abruptly stops the masque when he remembers Caliban’s conspiracy. The spirits vanish, and Ferdinand and Miranda are startled. Prospero’s fury reveals that his control is not as absolute as it appears — the messy reality of human treachery disrupts even his most carefully staged illusion. This interruption is structurally significant: it shatters the artificial perfection of the masque and forces Prospero to confront the world as it really is, not as he would design it.
Prospero’s speech after dismissing the masque is one of Shakespeare’s most famous passages: “Our revels now are ended. These our actors, / As I foretold you, were all spirits and / Are melted into air, into thin air.” He extends the metaphor to all of human existence: “The cloud-capped towers, the gorgeous palaces, / The solemn temples, the great globe itself … shall dissolve.” “The great globe” is simultaneously the world and Shakespeare’s own theatre (the Globe). The speech works on three levels: the masque has ended, all life is temporary, and theatre itself is an illusion.
“We Are Such Stuff as Dreams Are Made On”
The full line reads: “We are such stuff / As dreams are made on, and our little life / Is rounded with a sleep.” This is a metatheatrical moment: Prospero is both a character addressing Ferdinand and a playwright addressing the audience. The word “rounded” means both “completed” and “surrounded” — our lives are brief episodes enclosed by oblivion, just as a play is enclosed by darkness before the curtain rises and after it falls.
For the exam , this speech is crucial because it connects three of the play’s major themes: the nature of illusion, the transience of power, and Shakespeare’s self-reflexive exploration of his own art. If you are given an extract from Act 4 or asked about the theme of illusion, this speech should be at the centre of your response.
Prospero defeats Caliban, Stephano, and Trinculo not through violence but through distraction. He sets out “glistering apparel” — fine clothes — which Stephano and Trinculo cannot resist stealing, despite Caliban’s desperate pleas to focus on the murder plot. Prospero then sets spirits in the shape of dogs to chase them away. The scene is comic, but it makes a serious point: Stephano and Trinculo are easily corrupted by the trappings of wealth and status, exposing the hollowness of their rebellion. Caliban is the only one with genuine grievances, yet he has chosen the worst possible allies.
Act 5, Scene 1: “The Rarer Action Is in Virtue”
Act 5 is the play’s moral climax. Ariel reports that the imprisoned nobles are suffering — Gonzalo is weeping, and Alonso, Antonio, and Sebastian are distracted with grief and madness. Ariel adds a remarkable line: “Your charm so strongly works ’em / That if you now beheld them, your affections / Would become tender … Mine would, sir, were I human.” The spirit who is not human feels more compassion than the human characters who wronged Prospero.
Prospero is moved: “Hast thou, which art but air, a touch, a feeling / Of their afflictions, and shall not myself … be kindlier moved than thou art?” He makes the defining choice of the play: “The rarer action is / In virtue than in vengeance.” Revenge is common; mercy is rare and difficult. This single decision transforms the play from potential tragedy into romance. Prospero chooses to be better than his enemies.
“The rarer action is / In virtue than in vengeance.” Prospero chooses mercy over revenge, prompted by Ariel’s compassion. This is the play’s turning point: it transforms the ending from punishment to reconciliation. The word “rarer” acknowledges that forgiveness is harder and less natural than revenge — making it the more admirable (“virtuous”) choice.
Renouncing Magic: “I’ll Break My Staff”
Before confronting the nobles, Prospero delivers his great renunciation speech: “I have bedimmed / The noontide sun, called forth the mutinous winds … But this rough magic / I here abjure.” He lists his magical achievements, then rejects them. He promises: “I’ll break my staff, / Bury it certain fathoms in the earth, / And deeper than did ever plummet sound / I’ll drown my book.”
The staff and the book are his sources of power. By destroying them, Prospero surrenders his ability to control others. This is a renunciation that works on multiple levels: the character abandons magic, the playwright (Shakespeare) abandons his art, and the authority figure surrenders the tools of domination. Prospero will face the world as an ordinary man — “Now my charms are all o’erthrown, / And what strength I have’s mine own, / Which is most faint.”
Forgiveness and Its Limits
Prospero forgives Alonso, who is genuinely repentant and overjoyed to find Ferdinand alive. He forgives Gonzalo warmly. But his “forgiveness” of Antonio is much colder: “For you, most wicked sir, whom to call brother / Would even infect my mouth, I do forgive / Thy rankest fault.” The language is hostile even as the words are merciful. And Antonio, crucially, says nothing in response — no apology, no gratitude, no acknowledgement.
Prospero’s acknowledgement of Caliban is equally ambiguous: “This thing of darkness I / Acknowledge mine.” On one level, he takes responsibility for Caliban. On another, he claims ownership. The line can be read as an admission of guilt (“I created this situation”), a recognition of his own capacity for darkness, or simply a statement of possession. Shakespeare leaves the interpretation open.
The epilogue is unusual for Shakespeare. Prospero steps forward alone and addresses the audience directly: “Now my charms are all o’erthrown, / And what strength I have’s mine own.” He has given up his magic and now depends entirely on the audience’s goodwill. He asks to be “set free” by their applause: “As you from crimes would pardoned be, / Let your indulgence set me free.” The word “indulgence” carries a religious echo — a pardon for sins. Prospero (and Shakespeare) asks the audience to extend the same mercy the play has preached. The power dynamic reverses completely: the master magician is now a supplicant, powerless without the audience’s approval.