ANTONIO [aside to Sebastian] I am right glad that he’s so out of hope.
Do not, for one repulse, forgo the purpose
That you resolved t’effect.
SEBASTIAN [aside to Antonio] The next advantage
Will we take throughly.
ANTONIO Let it be tonight,
For now they are oppressed with travail; they
Will not, nor cannot, use such vigilance
As when they are fresh.
SEBASTIAN I say tonight. No more.
Solemn and strange music, and PROSPERO on the top (invisible). Enter several strange shapes, bringing in a banquet, and dance about it with gentle actions of salutations, and inviting the King etc. to eat, they depart. (3.3.11-17SD)
For a play so ostentatiously magical, so deeply invested in wonder, The Tempest has, up until this point, been oddly shy of unleashing the SFX. A storm in the opening scene, true, but that was made from noises off (and a lot of shouting on) and a handful of sodden Mariners. (Enter Mariners wet.) Ariel, invisible, like a sea nymph. But in this scene and the one which follows, spectacle rules. First, however, more low-rent Machiavellianism from Sebastian and Antonio, continuing to express their self-interest – and murderous intent – with cruel cynicism. Antonio is glad that Alonso is so out of hope, not simply because it will make it easier for them to carry out their plot, but perhaps because of sheer pleasure in his suffering. Don’t you dare lose your nerve, he says to Sebastian, just because we didn’t manage it the last time. You promised. And Sebastian confirms: the very next opportunity we get, we’ll make the most of it, do it properly, throughly, or thoroughly. Tonight, says Antonio, because they’re oppressed with travail, exhausted physically by their travels, all this straying over the island, and emotionally by their travails, their suffering. In this state they’re incapable of staying alert, of being as vigilant as they would be when they’re fresh, rested. Tonight it is, replies Sebastian. Shhhh.
And then: Solemn and strange music, and PROSPERO on the top (invisible). With no mention of Ariel, the music is probably off-stage, most likely from the musician’s gallery, which is where Prospero is too, on the top. How is he invisible? Does he wear his magic garment? Or is this mostly a note that he is unseen by the characters on the stage? What is the solemn and strange music? Probably not pipe and tabor. This is not a song, so it could be loud – not a lute, then. I suspect hautboys (woodwinds more generally, not just oboes or their ancestors), associated with enchantment (it’s hautboys that sound from under the stage in Antony and Cleopatra 4.3, leading Antony’s soldiers to speculate that his god Hercules is abandoning him), and perhaps shawms, associated with triumph and solemnity; there could be brass. The strange shapes are fantastical, antic, perhaps (like Ariel, in sea-nymph mode) wearing masquing dress, cast-offs from the court. There must be at least two of them, and perhaps more (four, perhaps? it would make for a better dance, which is presumably of some length, given the trouble of staging the spectacle, although also a rather crowded stage, at least at the Blackfriars) in order to bring in a banquet, which almost certainly means carrying in a table laden with elaborate confections and drinks. It’s not a feast or a picnic, at least it wouldn’t have been in 1611, but rather dessert, sweetmeats and delicacies, sweet spiced wine, and marzipan. (Ideally there will be a ship made out of sugar paste.) And the attendant spirits dance gracefully, elegantly, with gentle actions of salutations, giving gracious welcome, bowing and gesturing, inviting the Neapolitans – who are, presumably, starving – to eat. And then they depart. (And get changed for an even bigger song and dance number…)
