All will soon be accomplished and Ariel's hour of deliverance is nigh. The parting of the master from his genius is not without a touch of melancholy:
"My dainty Ariel! I shall miss thee,
But yet thou shalt have freedom."
Prospero has determined in his heart to renounce all his magical powers:
"To the elements
Be free, and fare thee well!"
He has taken leave of all his elves by name, and now utters words whose personal application has never been approached by any character hitherto set upon the stage by Shakespeare:
"But this rough service
I here abjure, and, when I have required
Some heavenly music, which even now I do,
. . . . . I'll break my staff,
Bury it certain fathoms in the earth,
And deeper than did ever plummet sound
I'll drown my book."
Solemn music is heard, and Shakespeare has bidden farewell to his art.
Collaboration in Henry VIII. and the production and staging of The Tempest were the last manifestations of his dramatic activity. In all probability he only waited for the close of the court festivities before carrying out his plan of leaving London and returning to Stratford; and Ben Jonson's foolish thrust at those who beget tales, tempests, and such like drolleries, would not find him in town. When we drew attention to his efforts to increase his capital, and his purchase of houses and land at Stratford, we showed that, even at that early period, he hoped eventually to quit the metropolis, to give up the theatre and literature and to spend the last years of his life in the country. Even supposing him to have delayed his departure until after the performance of The Tempest, an event which happened only four months later would have supplied the final inducement to leave. In the month of June 13 a fire broke out, as we know, at the Globe Theatre during a performance of Henry VIII., and the whole building was burned to the ground. Thus the scene of his activity for so many long years disappeared, as it were, in smoke, leaving no trace behind. He was probably part owner of the stage properties and costumes, which were all consumed. In any case, the flames devoured all the manuscripts of his plays then in the possession of the theatre, a priceless treasure—for him surely a painful, and for us an irreparable, loss.