CALIBAN Ho, God for Caliban and Setebos! War, War for Prosper’s throne! Miranda’s shrine! [A booming detonation resounds, and a roar of voices from below.]
THE VOICES
Caliban, Caliban, hail!
[From the throne-entrance Prospero—unhooded—hastens in, surrounded by the Spirits of Ariel, bearing long shining lances. Mounting swiftly the throne and joined by Ariel and Miranda, Prospero calls to Caliban, who—wearing his hood and lifting his staff—strides toward him.]
PROSPERO [His unhooded features revealing their likeness to Shakespeare’s.] Who wakes my sleep With these usurping thunders?
CALIBAN War and I! Now Setebos returns, and thou art fallen!
[A second detonation booms. Red glare bursts from Caliban’s cell, and War rushes forth with the Powers of Setebos, clad in his flaring habiliments, followed by the groups of Lust and Death. Bearing lighted torches, amid the roaring of Setebos choruses, flashing fireworks and bombs, they swarm upon the half-obscure stage. Led by War, the flame-colored hordes clash with the Spirits of Ariel, overcome them, and take captive Miranda, Prospero, and Ariel. As War holds Miranda in his power, Prospero confronts Caliban who—wearing his hood and raising his staff—exults before him:]
Hail, Prospero! Who now is master-artist! Who wieldeth now the world?
PROSPERO Hail, Caliban! Slumb’ring, from me thou robb’st my hood and staff Which wield my power; yet not mine art they wield Without my will: my will thou canst not rob Nor ravish.
CALIBAN [With eyes gleaming.] But Miranda!