Theme Analysis Sheets

The Tempest — 4 themes · A4 printable

The Tempest as inherently unstable and morally compromising, exploring how those who wield authority — whether through magic, political office, or colonial domination — must ultimately confront the ethical limits of control and the necessity of relinquishing it.

power & control

Power & Control

Point 1

Prospero's magical power functions as an instrument of absolute control over the island and its inhabitants, positioning him as a god-like figure whose authority is both impressive and deeply troubling.

“I have bedimmed the noontide sun, called forth the mutinous winds, and 'twixt the green sea and the azured vault set roaring war” [Prospero] Act 5, Scene 1

The catalogue of supernatural feats — dimming the sun, commanding winds, warring sea against sky — presents Prospero's power as rivalling nature itself, echoing the Renaissance fascination with the magus figure.

The verb 'bedimmed' suggests Prospero can obscure even the most powerful natural force, implying a hubristic overreach that a Jacobean audience would associate with challenging divine authority.

Shakespeare's use of the tricolon creates a cumulative effect that emphasises the sheer scale of Prospero's abilities, yet this speech immediately precedes his decision to renounce magic, suggesting that recognising the limits of power is the truest wisdom.

“Hast thou, spirit, performed to point the tempest that I bade thee” [Prospero] Act 1, Scene 2

The interrogative form reveals Prospero as a demanding overseer who expects precise obedience — 'to point' meaning to the exact detail — establishing the master-servant dynamic that structures the entire play.

The possessive phrase 'the tempest that I bade thee' asserts Prospero's authorship of the storm, collapsing the distinction between natural disaster and deliberate political manipulation.

Shakespeare positions Prospero as a stage-director within the play, metatheatrically reflecting the playwright's own power to orchestrate events — a connection that deepens in the epilogue where Prospero addresses the audience directly.

Point 2

The play reveals that political power is fragile and easily usurped, as multiple plots to seize control mirror one another and expose the cyclical nature of tyranny.

“My brother and thy uncle, called Antonio — I pray thee mark me — that a brother should be so perfidious” [Prospero] Act 1, Scene 2

The parenthetical 'I pray thee mark me' interrupts the narrative to demand Miranda's full attention, revealing Prospero's lingering emotional rawness over the betrayal twelve years after the event.

The adjective 'perfidious' — meaning treacherous and deceitful — elevates the vocabulary to a formal, almost legalistic register, framing Antonio's coup as a violation of natural and political law.

Shakespeare uses the fraternal betrayal to echo the biblical story of Cain and Abel, suggesting that the desire for power can corrupt even the most fundamental human bonds, a theme resonant in Jacobean politics where succession disputes were common.

“Thou dost here usurp the name thou ow'st not, and hast put thyself upon this island as a spy, to win it from me, the lord on't” [Caliban] Act 1, Scene 2

Caliban's accusation that Prospero 'usurps' the island directly mirrors the language used about Antonio's seizure of Milan, creating a structural parallel that destabilises Prospero's moral authority.

The phrase 'the lord on't' asserts Caliban's prior claim to the island through inheritance from his mother Sycorax, raising uncomfortable questions about the legitimacy of Prospero's rule that resonate with early colonial encounters.

Shakespeare gives Caliban the language of political resistance — 'usurp', 'spy', 'win it from me' — complicating any simple reading of him as a savage and inviting the audience to consider whose power is truly legitimate.

Point 3

Prospero exercises psychological control over other characters by manipulating their perceptions and emotions, revealing that power operates not only through force but through the management of knowledge and experience.

“The fringed curtains of thine eye advance, and say what thou seest yond” [Prospero] Act 1, Scene 2

The elaborate periphrasis for 'open your eyes' transforms Miranda's act of looking into a theatrical unveiling, positioning Prospero as a director who carefully stages what his daughter sees and when she sees it.

The imperative verbs 'advance' and 'say' demonstrate Prospero's habit of controlling even the smallest aspects of Miranda's experience, suggesting that his paternal love is inseparable from his need for authority.

Shakespeare uses this moment to show that power can operate through the control of perception itself — Prospero has engineered Ferdinand's arrival and now choreographs Miranda's response to it.

“Thou shalt be as free as mountain winds; but then exactly do all points of my command” [Prospero] Act 1, Scene 2

The conditional structure — freedom promised but deferred — encapsulates the manipulative logic of Prospero's authority: liberty is always just out of reach, contingent on further obedience.

The simile 'free as mountain winds' is bitterly ironic given that Ariel is anything but free; Shakespeare exposes how those in power use the language of freedom to justify continued subjugation.

The adverb 'exactly' reveals Prospero's insistence on total, precise compliance, suggesting a controlling personality that cannot tolerate any deviation from his will.

Point 4

Prospero's decision to relinquish his magical power in the final act transforms the play's exploration of control into a meditation on the wisdom of letting go, framing renunciation as the highest exercise of authority.

“But this rough magic I here abjure, and when I have required some heavenly music — which even now I do — to work mine end upon their senses that this airy charm is for, I'll break my staff” [Prospero] Act 5, Scene 1

The verb 'abjure' — meaning to solemnly renounce — carries religious connotations of repentance, suggesting that Prospero has come to see his magic as morally problematic rather than simply useful.

The deliberate destruction of the staff symbolises the voluntary surrender of power, an act that would resonate powerfully in 1611 as Shakespeare's own apparent farewell to the theatre and his creative authority.

Shakespeare structures this as a choice rather than a defeat, implying that true wisdom lies not in the accumulation of power but in the recognition of when and how to release it.

“Now my charms are all o'erthrown, and what strength I have's mine own, which is most faint” [Prospero] Epilogue

The admission that his natural strength is 'most faint' strips Prospero of all authority, presenting him as vulnerable and dependent — the complete inversion of the commanding figure who opened the play.

The metatheatrical epilogue collapses the boundary between Prospero and the actor, and by extension Shakespeare himself, transforming the surrender of magical power into a meditation on the transience of artistic creation.

Shakespeare transfers power to the audience — 'release me from my bands with the help of your good hands' — suggesting that all authority is ultimately contingent on the consent and goodwill of others.

The Tempest interrogates the ethics of colonialism through Prospero's domination of Caliban and Ariel, presenting the island as a contested space where European claims to civilisation are undermined by the violence and exploitation that sustain them.

colonialism & freedom

Colonialism & Freedom

Point 1

Caliban's subjugation by Prospero dramatises the colonial encounter, presenting the dispossession of indigenous people as a process that begins with apparent generosity before hardening into exploitation and dehumanisation.

“This island's mine by Sycorax my mother, which thou tak'st from me” [Caliban] Act 1, Scene 2

Caliban's assertion of inherited ownership through his mother Sycorax presents a matrilineal claim to the island that Prospero's arrival has overridden, directly mirroring how European colonisers displaced indigenous land rights.

The simple, direct syntax — 'mine... thou tak'st from me' — cuts through Prospero's elaborate rhetoric to state a plain truth about dispossession, giving Caliban a moral clarity that complicates his characterisation as a 'savage'.

Shakespeare's audience in 1611 would have been aware of the Virginia Company's recent colonial ventures; Caliban's complaint stages a perspective rarely heard in Jacobean England — that of the colonised subject.

“When thou cam'st first, thou strok'st me and made much of me, wouldst give me water with berries in't, and teach me how to name the bigger light and how the less” [Caliban] Act 1, Scene 2

The initial tenderness — 'strok'st me and made much of me' — recalls historical accounts of early colonial encounters where European settlers and indigenous people exchanged knowledge and kindness before the relationship deteriorated.

The detail of teaching Caliban to 'name the bigger light and how the less' (the sun and moon) echoes the colonial project of imposing European systems of knowledge, replacing indigenous understanding with Western categories.

Shakespeare structures this as a nostalgic recollection of lost friendship, implying that colonialism corrupts what might have been a genuine cultural exchange into a relationship of domination and resentment.

Point 2

The question of language becomes central to the colonial dynamic, as Caliban's forced acquisition of Prospero's tongue simultaneously enables his subjection and provides him with the tools to resist it.

“You taught me language, and my profit on't is I know how to curse” [Caliban] Act 1, Scene 2

The bitter irony that the 'profit' of education is the ability to curse inverts the colonial narrative of civilisation as a gift, suggesting that imposed language becomes a weapon of resistance rather than gratitude.

Shakespeare dramatises a central paradox of colonialism: the coloniser's language is both the instrument of oppression and the only available medium through which the colonised can articulate their oppression.

The word 'profit' introduces the commercial vocabulary of colonial enterprise, subtly linking the project of 'civilising' Caliban to the economic exploitation that motivated Jacobean colonial ventures.

“Abhorred slave, which any print of goodness wilt not take, being capable of all ill” [Miranda] Act 1, Scene 2

Miranda's dehumanising language — 'abhorred slave' — reveals how colonial ideology constructs the colonised as inherently inferior, incapable of moral improvement regardless of education or opportunity.

The metaphor of 'print' suggests Caliban is like blank paper that refuses to receive the impression of European 'goodness', echoing the colonial trope of the 'noble savage' who proves ultimately unreformable.

Shakespeare complicates the audience's response by placing this aggressive rhetoric in the mouth of the play's most innocent character, suggesting that colonial prejudice infects even those who consider themselves compassionate.

Point 3

Ariel's enslavement presents a more subtle form of colonial bondage, where the promise of future freedom is used to extract willing compliance, exposing how servitude can be maintained through hope as effectively as through force.

“Dost thou forget from what a torment I did free thee” [Prospero] Act 1, Scene 2

Prospero's rhetorical question functions as emotional blackmail, reminding Ariel of the debt owed for liberation from Sycorax's imprisonment in a cloven pine — a classic colonial justification that frames domination as rescue.

The verb 'forget' implies that gratitude should be permanent and unquestioning, revealing a power dynamic in which the colonised subject must perpetually perform thankfulness for their own subjugation.

Shakespeare exposes how colonial masters construct narratives of benevolence — 'I freed you from worse' — to legitimise their authority and silence demands for genuine independence.

“Is there more toil? Since thou dost give me pains, let me remember thee what thou hast promised, which is not yet performed me” [Ariel] Act 1, Scene 2

Ariel's careful, almost legalistic language — 'promised', 'not yet performed' — frames freedom as a contractual obligation that Prospero has failed to honour, introducing the language of rights into the colonial relationship.

The word 'toil' foregrounds the physical labour extracted from Ariel, connecting the spirit's magical service to the economic exploitation that underpinned real colonial enterprises.

Shakespeare gives Ariel the courage to challenge Prospero directly, yet the challenge is immediately suppressed with threats of further imprisonment, demonstrating how colonial power silences dissent even when the grievance is legitimate.

Point 4

Gonzalo's utopian vision of the island exposes the contradictions inherent in European idealism about the New World, revealing how fantasies of natural paradise coexist with the reality of colonial violence.

“I' th' commonwealth I would by contraries execute all things; for no kind of traffic would I admit, no name of magistrate” [Gonzalo] Act 2, Scene 1

Gonzalo's utopian speech, drawn from Montaigne's essay 'Of Cannibals', imagines a society without commerce or government — yet the irony is that he delivers it on an island already governed by Prospero's authoritarian magic.

The phrase 'by contraries' signals that Gonzalo's ideal commonwealth inverts European norms, reflecting the Renaissance fascination with indigenous societies as mirrors that expose the flaws of Western civilisation.

Shakespeare allows Sebastian and Antonio to mock this vision, suggesting that European power-holders are incapable of genuinely engaging with alternative social models — colonial idealism is always undercut by colonial practice.

“All things in common nature should produce without sweat or endeavour” [Gonzalo] Act 2, Scene 1

The fantasy of nature producing 'without sweat or endeavour' erases the labour of the island's actual inhabitants — Caliban and Ariel — whose forced toil sustains Prospero's comfortable existence.

Shakespeare echoes the language of early colonial promotional literature, which depicted the Americas as a land of effortless abundance to attract investors and settlers to ventures like the Virginia Company.

The dramatic irony is pointed: Gonzalo imagines a paradise of freedom and equality on the very island where Prospero exercises absolute tyrannical control, exposing the gap between European ideals and colonial reality.

The Tempest as both a literal force that drives the plot and a metaphor for artistic creation, exploring how supernatural power can serve justice or become a form of tyranny, and ultimately suggesting that the most profound magic lies in the human capacity for mercy.

magic & the supernatural

Magic & the Supernatural

Point 1

Prospero's magic is presented as a product of intense scholarly devotion, rooted in Renaissance traditions of natural philosophy, yet Shakespeare reveals that this intellectual pursuit carries the danger of neglecting worldly responsibilities.

“I, thus neglecting worldly ends, all dedicated to closeness and the bettering of my mind, in my false brother awaked an evil nature” [Prospero] Act 1, Scene 2

Prospero's admission that his obsession with study enabled Antonio's coup establishes a causal link between the pursuit of arcane knowledge and political vulnerability, warning against retreat from practical governance.

The phrase 'bettering of my mind' echoes the Renaissance humanist ideal of self-improvement through learning, yet Shakespeare shows this admirable pursuit becoming destructive when it replaces engagement with the real world.

The verb 'awaked' suggests Antonio's treachery was latent rather than created, implying that Prospero's magical studies did not cause the betrayal but removed the vigilance that might have prevented it.

“Knowing I loved my books, he furnished me from mine own library with volumes that I prize above my dukedom” [Prospero] Act 1, Scene 2

The detail that Gonzalo saved Prospero's books during the exile reveals that magic — and by extension, knowledge — is Prospero's most valued possession, ranked explicitly above political power.

The phrase 'prize above my dukedom' is richly ambiguous: it explains both why Prospero lost Milan (he valued books more than governance) and how he will reclaim it (his magical learning enables the tempest).

Shakespeare draws on the Jacobean fascination with figures like John Dee, the scholar-magician who advised Elizabeth I, blurring the line between legitimate intellectual inquiry and forbidden supernatural arts.

Point 2

The supernatural beings of the island — Ariel and Caliban — represent contrasting aspects of magic, with Ariel embodying ethereal, obedient enchantment and Caliban associated with the earthy, resistant forces of nature.

“All hail, great master, grave sir, hail! I come to answer thy best pleasure; be't to fly, to swim, to dive into the fire, to ride on the curled clouds” [Ariel] Act 1, Scene 2

Ariel's catalogue of elemental abilities — flying, swimming, diving into fire, riding clouds — presents the spirit as a being who transcends the four classical elements, embodying the limitless potential of supernatural power.

The reverential address 'great master, grave sir' establishes Ariel's performance of willing servitude, though the audience knows this obedience is compelled by Prospero's authority rather than freely given.

Shakespeare associates Ariel with air and movement, creating a symbolic contrast with Caliban's earthiness that maps onto the Jacobean hierarchy of elements — the ethereal ranked above the material.

“Be not afeard. The isle is full of noises, sounds, and sweet airs, that give delight and hurt not” [Caliban] Act 3, Scene 2

This lyrical speech reveals Caliban's deep, sensuous connection to the island's supernatural atmosphere, contradicting Prospero's characterisation of him as an insensible brute incapable of appreciating beauty.

The asyndetic list 'noises, sounds, and sweet airs' creates a gentle, lulling rhythm that mirrors the enchanted soundscape Caliban describes, demonstrating Shakespeare's ability to make language itself feel magical.

Shakespeare gives Caliban the play's most beautiful description of the island's magic, subverting the expectation that supernatural sensitivity belongs only to refined or educated characters and suggesting that the colonised native has a deeper understanding of the island than its coloniser.

Point 3

Prospero's masque — the spectacular vision of goddesses performed for Ferdinand and Miranda — demonstrates magic as theatrical spectacle, but its abrupt dissolution reveals the fragility and ultimate insubstantiality of all illusion.

“Our revels now are ended. These our actors, as I foretold you, were all spirits, and are melted into air, into thin air” [Prospero] Act 4, Scene 1

The metatheatrical reference to 'actors' and 'revels' collapses the distinction between Prospero's magic and Shakespeare's theatre, inviting the audience to see the play itself as a form of enchantment that will soon dissolve.

The repetition of 'air, into thin air' enacts the very disappearance it describes, with the phrase seeming to evaporate as it lengthens, demonstrating Shakespeare's mastery of using sound to reinforce meaning.

Shakespeare transforms a moment of dramatic failure — Prospero's masque interrupted by Caliban's conspiracy — into the play's most philosophically profound meditation, suggesting that disruption can produce deeper insight than perfection.

“We are such stuff as dreams are made on, and our little life is rounded with a sleep” [Prospero] Act 4, Scene 1

The metaphor equating human existence with the substance of dreams extends the dissolution of the masque into a universal statement about mortality, framing all of life as a brief magical performance between two silences.

The adjective 'little' applied to human life is a devastating understatement that reduces all human achievement — including Prospero's magical mastery — to insignificance against the backdrop of eternity.

Shakespeare uses 'rounded' to suggest both 'surrounded' and 'completed', implying that the sleep of death gives life its circular wholeness — a consoling image embedded within a speech of apparent despair.

Point 4

Prospero's renunciation of magic in Act 5 transforms the supernatural from a tool of power into a moral test, suggesting that the greatest act of magic is the choice to surrender it in favour of common humanity.

“I'll break my staff, bury it certain fathoms in the earth, and deeper than did ever plummet sound I'll drown my book” [Prospero] Act 5, Scene 1

The three decisive verbs — 'break', 'bury', 'drown' — enact a ritual destruction that is emphatic and irreversible, ensuring that Prospero's renunciation of magic cannot be undone or reconsidered.

The image of drowning the book 'deeper than did ever plummet sound' places magical knowledge beyond all future recovery, suggesting that some forms of power are too dangerous to preserve even as potential.

Shakespeare echoes accounts of magicians destroying their instruments of power, a tradition familiar from Marlowe's Doctor Faustus, but crucially Prospero acts voluntarily rather than under divine compulsion, making this a freely chosen moral act.

“But release me from my bands with the help of your good hands” [Prospero] Epilogue

The rhyming couplet 'bands/hands' creates a playful, almost pleading tone as the former master of supernatural forces begs the audience for the simple human magic of applause.

The word 'bands' means both 'bonds' and 'theatrical company', simultaneously asking to be freed from the stage and from the enchantment of the play itself, layering metatheatrical meaning upon personal vulnerability.

Shakespeare's epilogue completes the transfer of power from magician to audience, suggesting that all art — like all magic — depends ultimately not on the creator's power but on the audience's willingness to believe and to respond.

The Tempest presents forgiveness not as a spontaneous emotional response but as a deliberate moral choice that requires the surrender of justified anger, suggesting that reconciliation — though imperfect and incomplete — is the only alternative to an endless cycle of retribution.

forgiveness & reconciliation

Forgiveness & Reconciliation

Point 1

Ariel's appeal to Prospero's compassion marks the turning point of the play, as a non-human spirit teaches the powerful magician that mercy is a higher virtue than vengeance.

“Your charm so strongly works 'em that if you now beheld them your affections would become tender” [Ariel] Act 5, Scene 1

Ariel's observation that the sight of the suffering courtiers would make Prospero 'tender' implies that Prospero has deliberately avoided witnessing the consequences of his own magic, maintaining emotional distance to preserve his resolve.

The adjective 'tender' introduces the vocabulary of compassion into a play that has been dominated by the language of power and control, signalling the moral shift that will define Act 5.

Shakespeare creates a profound dramatic irony: Ariel, a spirit who claims to have no human emotions, demonstrates greater empathy than Prospero, who has allowed his justified anger to harden into cruelty.

“Though with their high wrongs I am struck to th' quick, yet with my nobler reason 'gainst my fury do I take part” [Prospero] Act 5, Scene 1

The internal conflict between 'fury' and 'nobler reason' dramatises forgiveness as a battle within the self, rejecting any sentimental notion that mercy comes easily or naturally to the wronged party.

The phrase 'struck to th' quick' — meaning wounded to the living flesh — insists that Prospero's grievance is genuine and deep; Shakespeare does not minimise the injury in order to make forgiveness seem simple.

The adjective 'nobler' frames the choice to forgive as an act of moral elevation, aligning reason with virtue in a distinctly Renaissance humanist framework that values rational self-mastery over passionate revenge.

Point 2

Prospero's confrontation with his enemies in Act 5 reveals that forgiveness can be offered without forgetting, as he holds his betrayers accountable even as he releases them from punishment.

“For you, most wicked sir, whom to call brother would even infect my mouth, I do forgive thy rankest fault” [Prospero] Act 5, Scene 1

The juxtaposition of 'wicked' and 'forgive' in the same address captures the paradox at the heart of Prospero's mercy: he names the sin clearly even as he pardons it, refusing to pretend that reconciliation erases the wrong.

The visceral metaphor 'infect my mouth' reveals the physical disgust Prospero still feels toward Antonio, emphasising that forgiveness does not require the elimination of negative emotion — only the decision not to act upon it.

Shakespeare's refusal to show Antonio expressing remorse or even speaking in response to Prospero's forgiveness leaves the reconciliation deliberately incomplete, suggesting that genuine forgiveness does not depend on the wrongdoer's repentance.

“The rarer action is in virtue than in vengeance” [Prospero] Act 5, Scene 1

The comparative 'rarer' frames forgiveness as the more extraordinary and admirable choice, implicitly acknowledging that vengeance is the natural and common human response to betrayal.

The balanced antithesis of 'virtue' and 'vengeance' condenses the play's central moral argument into a single elegant line, giving Prospero's decision the weight of a philosophical maxim.

Shakespeare draws on the Jacobean expectation that rulers should model Christian mercy — James I styled himself as a peacemaker — while also suggesting that choosing virtue requires genuine strength rather than mere piety.

Point 3

The betrothal of Ferdinand and Miranda symbolises reconciliation between the older generation's enemies, using the union of their children to forge a political and emotional peace that transcends past grievances.

“O wonder! How many goodly creatures are there here! How beauteous mankind is! O brave new world that has such people in't” [Miranda] Act 5, Scene 1

Miranda's innocent wonder at seeing the courtiers for the first time provides a vision of humanity uncorrupted by experience of betrayal, presenting the possibility of a fresh start unburdened by the past.

The dramatic irony is acute: the 'goodly creatures' Miranda admires include the men who tried to murder her father, revealing that her optimism is founded on ignorance — yet Shakespeare does not entirely dismiss it as naive.

The phrase 'brave new world' has become one of Shakespeare's most famous, later adopted by Aldous Huxley as a title; its power lies in the tension between Miranda's genuine hope and the audience's knowledge that these people are deeply flawed.

“Let grief and sorrow still embrace his heart that doth not wish you joy” [Gonzalo] Act 5, Scene 1

Gonzalo's blessing transforms the reconciliation into a communal act, invoking a collective wish for happiness that seeks to bind the formerly divided parties together through shared goodwill.

The conditional curse — grief for anyone who does not wish the couple joy — gently pressures the reluctant or unrepentant characters (notably Antonio and Sebastian) to participate in the reconciliation, even if only outwardly.

Shakespeare gives this benediction to Gonzalo, the character who has been consistently loyal and compassionate throughout the play, suggesting that the moral authority to bless reconciliation belongs to those who have practised virtue rather than those who have wielded power.

Point 4

The play's conclusion leaves reconciliation deliberately ambiguous and incomplete, with several relationships unresolved, suggesting that Shakespeare views forgiveness as an ongoing process rather than a neat resolution.

“Whether this be or be not, I'll not swear” [Alonso] Act 5, Scene 1

Alonso's uncertainty about whether the events are real captures the disoriented, dream-like quality of the reconciliation, suggesting that the transition from enmity to peace is bewildering rather than triumphant.

The refusal to 'swear' — to make a definitive commitment — implies that Alonso is not yet ready to fully trust the new reality, reflecting the psychological truth that trust shattered by betrayal is not instantly restored.

Shakespeare uses Alonso's hesitation to resist a fairy-tale ending, acknowledging that genuine reconciliation requires time, repeated acts of good faith, and a willingness to live with uncertainty.

“As you from crimes would pardoned be, let your indulgence set me free” [Prospero] Epilogue

The appeal to the audience's own need for pardon universalises the play's theme of forgiveness, suggesting that every person is simultaneously in need of mercy and capable of granting it.

The echo of the Lord's Prayer — 'forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us' — frames forgiveness as a reciprocal Christian obligation, connecting the play's resolution to the deepest moral convictions of Shakespeare's Jacobean audience.

Shakespeare's final couplet makes the audience complicit in the act of reconciliation: by applauding, they enact the very forgiveness the play has argued for, transforming passive spectators into active moral participants.