PROSPERO     [to Ferdinand] Look thou be true. Do not give dalliance

Too much the rein. The strongest oaths are straw

To th’ fire i’th’ blood. Be more abstemious

Or else good night your vow!

FERDINAND                                       I warrant you, sir,

The white cold virgin snow upon my heart

Abates the ardour of my liver.

PROSPERO                                         Well!—

Now come, my Ariel; bring a corollary

Rather than want a spirit. Appear, and pertly.      Soft music.

No tongue, all eyes. Be silent! (4.1.51-59)

In some ways, this is a recapitulation of Prospero in his first scene in the play, telling a story, anxious that Miranda attend to every word. Of course Prospero can play this as over-bearing, controlling—but I think it can be more interesting; he is perhaps more anxious about the show that’s about to happen, and that they give it their full attention, than about the way in which they’re currently absorbed in each other. (Although: that too.) First of all, reminding Ferdinand (and Miranda) that he’s still got an eye on them. (Is there snogging happening? There is almost certainly snogging happening.) His reproach to Ferdinand, Look thou be true, is an appeal to his honour, but also to the promise that they have effectively made to each other, man to man: keep your word. Prospero is not worried about Ferdinand being true to Miranda, but to him, Prospero (and to Ferdinand himself). Don’t go too far, give dalliance too much the rein; you’ll get over-excited, specifically over-heated – and then you won’t be able to stop yourselves. You’ve promised but, well, what are promises in the heat of passion? You need to be more abstemious, slow down, back off – or else good night your vow! A neat turn of phrase in the context, echoing Ferdinand’s previous happy anticipation of their wedding night, and his invocation of Phoebus’s horses, here, overlaid with the Platonic charioteer, and the horses of the passions, in the conceit of giving too much the rein to dalliance. Ferdinand not only has a good comeback, but he demonstrates to his future father-in-law that he’s got a good understanding of anatomy and physiology, too: he knows that the liver is the organ which governs lust and desire, which heats the blood, and he is at pains to point out that his own chaste virgin heart (and, by extension, Miranda’s chastity too) keeps desire in check, cools everything down. Everything is balanced and under control. (I want Prospero’s Well! to be not simply interrupted, but a surprised exclamation of satisfaction, of, I’ve met my match, this is a smart young man as well as a virtuous one.) And now it’s almost time for the show: Ariel is summoned, and commanded to bring the rabble, their fellow ministers; better to have extras, a corollary, rather than not to have enough. Appear, and pertly; it’s time. Although when Prospero tells Ferdinand and Miranda no tongue, all eyes, it will inevitably get a laugh (whether they have been snogging enthusiastically or not; of course they have…) he is actually telling them to stop talking and watch. Be silent! Intense, mutually absorbed conversation is something that Shakespeare uses to characterise his successful, hopeful lovers: Romeo and Juliet, Orlando and Rosalind, Beatrice and Benedick, Perdita and Florizel; it’s one of the reasons why Angelo and Isabella are so disturbing. Not having anything to say to each other is usually a bad sign: Helena and Bertram, Hero and Claudio, the Macbeths running out of things to talk about, Brutus keeping secrets from Portia. All of Desdemona and Othello’s significant conversations take place before the start of the play; they do not converse completely alone again until the murder scene.

But now, on with the show…