Enter PROSPERO, in his magic robes, and ARIEL.
PROSPERO Now does my project gather to a head.
My charms crack not; my spirits obey; and time
Goes upright with his carriage. How’s the day?
ARIEL On the sixth hour, at which time, my lord,
You said our work should cease.
PROSPERO I did say so,
When first I raised the tempest. Say, my spirit,
How fares the King and’s followers?
ARIEL Confined together
In the same fashion as you gave in charge,
Just as you left them; all prisoners, sir,
In the line grove which weather-fends your cell.
They cannot budge till your release. (5.1.1-11)
In a play so obsessed with time, and keeping time, and things happening at the right time, and not running out of time—and with the past and the future—the beginning of the scene puts down a definite marker. Now. In 1.2, about to tell Miranda the story of their coming to the island, Prospero had promised her, the hour’s now come. And he is saying the same thing here, as the play’s final movement begins. The stage direction is briefly puzzling, as Prospero and Ariel exited at the end of the previous scene, to re-enter immediately here. The crucial thing is that Prospero has now put on his magic robes, most likely a cloak or perhaps a gown; it could be done very quickly, allowing them to exit through one door and re-enter through another almost immediately, or even for Ariel to help Prospero into his robes in the inner stage, in the sight of the audience (less likely? That would identify the inner stage with the cell, where we know that Ferdinand and Miranda are, and they must not be seen yet). Music would very likely cover the join between the scenes and, particularly at the Blackfriars, it might be quite extended.
Everything is going to plan, says Prospero, and now does my project gather to a head: this is the crisis, the high point, the denouement. (To gather to a head also suggests something coming to the boil; this is, perhaps, alchemical language.) My enchantments work, my charms crack not (crack is an interesting verb; so many of Prospero’s spells are to do with binding and confining) and my spirits obey (we have seen ample evidence of that; it’s also a pointed reminder that Ariel, one of those spirits, is still bound to obey their master in everything). Time goes upright with his carriage, that is, time isn’t rushing or, especially, dragging, weighed down with a burden; everything is running like clockwork, we might say. And what time is it? Almost the sixth hour, at which time, my lord, you said our work should cease. Mmmm, says Prospero, absolutely, that was when I started all this, raised the tempest. Anyway, my spirit, how fares King and his followers? They’re under a spell, confined together, prisoners (in effect) in the line-grove, that acts as a wind-break for your cell. Just as you ordered. They cannot budge till your release. You’ve got them where you want them. (It’s perhaps worth noting that Prospero refers to the King and his followers. Here at least, he does not mention his brother.)
